#rifka

We often look at the past as a picture pulled into focus by the writers of history, rather than an entanglement of events and people and messaging. We forget that the student protests against apartheid, against the Vietnam and Iraq wars, were decried as violent unrest. The pieces of art made for those movements were deemed too controversial or political at the time; and now we display those pieces in our museums, on the walls of our reading rooms on the fourth floor of our libraries. Our universities call it a “history of student activism.” We forget that in the days in which the pieces were produced the art curators of the days, the university administrations, the parents, the news media, and the politicians were usually against those movements. When we look at past protest movements we know some opposed them, but we think of them as "bad people," who are nothing like us "good people," because we could never be so blind or so prejudiced.

This piece is made with the type I used for several protest signs--as I made those signs, and as I made this piece, I took the time to reflect on how the opinions I was expressing lined up with my concept of the history of protest and oppression. I used the phrase tikkun olam—"repair the world" in Hebrew—because I feel aligned with the history of Jewish activism and the need to repair our world, but I include it in this piece specifically because I acknowledge that there have always been Jews who were blind and prejudiced; believing that I am following a commandment does not mean I am kind or righteous.