High Holy Days -- Take Four

Not long ago, I came across a photo of a medical school class from the 1950s. Although everyone in the photo was a stranger to me and I had no connection to the school itself, the picture triggered an instant feeling of incompleteness and -- I'm searching for a word -- some degree of emptiness. Odd as it sounds, for no apparent reason I felt a little sorry for the class.

After pondering it for a moment or two, I realized that all the students were the same race and gender and at some purely emotional level, that translated into a less rich, less interesting experience than the world I live in every day.

That revealing moment comes to mind as I think about the dilemma schools and communities face when it comes to sensitivity to religious holidays.

People of minority faiths would say it happens pretty regularly: special events are scheduled with no thought given to their particular religious observance -- parent-teacher conferences, professional workshops, community festivals, galas, athletic events.

It's a painful oversight that feels as if it creates a pecking order for something as personal and sacred as religious practices. Mine matters; yours obviously doesn't matter as much.

The only thing that prevents such insensitivity is a realization that sensitivity is a byproduct of respect, and respect isn't a happy, rosy feeling that falls out of the sky but something that is not only intended, but practiced and indeed planned for.

I am lucky enough to live in a community where someone speaks up if holidays are trampled on or religious beliefs are insulted. It's also, not incidentally, a community where fairness and equity are part of the fabric of everyday life.

Respect is an amazingly attractive quality -- lovely, if freely given, but more handsome still when it is insisted upon by all of us.