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Living Life According to Justice Ginsburg

We should be obligated to take RBG’s legacy with us into our daily lives — which is in and of itself a very Jewish idea.
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September 24, 2020
WASHINGTON, DC – MARCH 18: U.S. Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg speaks at an annual Women’s History Month reception hosted by Pelosi in the U.S. capitol building on Capitol Hill in Washington, D.C. This year’s event honored the women Justices of the U.S. Supreme Court: Associate Justices Ruth Bader Ginsburg, Sonia Sotomayor, and Elena Kagan. (Photo by Allison Shelley/Getty Images)

“A Jew, a woman and a mother, that was a bit much. Three strikes put me out of the game,” Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg once recalled.

Ginsburg’s life meant a lot of things to a lot of people. To Jewish working women and mothers, she was our patron saint. Before the term “glass ceilings” was coined, she shattered them. Before we conceptualized intersectionality or a diversity, equity and inclusion movement, she defined them.

On the morning of Sept. 19, Rosh Hashanah morning, I came down the stairs. Before I even reached the last step, my husband called out to me, his voice shaking, “Randi, I have terrible news.” I thought somebody we loved had died —  and indeed, she had.

As we dwell in the 10 Days of Awe between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, we’re asked to seriously consider our mortality and stand in awe of life itself: If we’re inscribed into the Book of Life this year, what will we do with this life?

This year, as we dwell in the Days of Awe, we also are in awe of Ginsburg. Not just of what she accomplished, but what she meant to us. For many of us, that is overwhelming — and that’s OK; awe is, by its very definition, overwhelming in all its wonder and reverence. So as we sit a communal shivah for RBG during these Days of Awe, let’s take time to wonder and marvel at her. Let’s tell her stories and celebrate her life with reverence.

Through reverent tears, many of the Jewish women I’ve spoken with in recent days are overwhelmed because they just can’t imagine the Supreme Court, the country or the world without her. That’s why we should be obligated to take RBG’s legacy with us into our daily lives — which is in and of itself a very Jewish idea.

Famous for chipping away at the wall of gender bias instead of toppling it, the petite associate justice taught us the power of winning the war by winning small battles.

As we say l’dor v’dor, (from generation to generation) we don’t just honor RBG’s legacy as the most influential Jewish American woman of the 20th century. We remind ourselves that it is our responsibility to write the next chapter. One of us will be the RBG of the 21st century: the most influential and beloved Jewish American woman of a century. As we move from generation to generation, many more of us will touch and change the lives of others in the process.

So where do we go from here, at this intersection of grief, memory, celebration and legacy?

Look no further than RBG herself. Honoring her legacy daily and in perpetuity feels like a tall order, but it was she who taught us the power of seemingly “small” actions. Famous for chipping away at the wall of gender bias instead of toppling it, the petite associate justice taught us the power of winning the war by winning small battles. Kabbalah similarly teaches us that each one of us has the ability to tilt the energy of the universe toward good or evil with each of our thoughts, words and deeds. So why not tilt it toward that RBG side each day?

As we consider how to honor her legacy, let’s look to her words for inspiration:

On being more than what you do: “If you want to be a true professional, do something outside of yourself.”

On hope: “So that’s the dissenter’s hope: that they are writing not for today, but for tomorrow.”

On persistence: “Real change, enduring change, happens one step at a time.”

On women in leadership: “Women belong in all places where decisions are being made. It shouldn’t be that women are the exception.”

On being allies as Jewish Americans: “Perhaps I should start by saying, I grew up in the shadow of World War II, and we came to know more and more what was happening to the Jews in Europe. The sense of being an outsider — of being one of the people who had suffered oppression for no sensible reason. It’s the sense of being part of a minority. It makes you more empathetic to other people who are not insiders, who are outsiders.”

On goals and expectations: “You can’t have it all, all at once.”

On being our best self: “I would like to be remembered as someone who used whatever talent she had to do her work to the very best of her ability.”

As we say zichronah livrachah, we know her memory will indeed be a blessing. It’s also a call to action. She personally broke the rules for women in the workplace, then rewrote them for a nation. We should be obligated to follow them — and her.

Randi Braun is an executive coach, consultant, speaker and the founder of Something Major

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