Erika Strassburger: Repair the world, one vote at a time

On the morning of Oct. 27, 2018, I was standing with 30-some constituents, friends and fellow elected officials, drinking coffee and chatting quietly. We were gearing up for a morning of engaging in one of the most fundamental rituals of democracy — going door to door to talk to neighbors and community members about the importance of voting in the upcoming midterm election. Suddenly, we received news that would upend our plans for that Saturday — and our community forever.

“There’s an active shooter situation at the Tree of Life.” The words from my friend Sara shattered the casual, friendly atmosphere in an instant. Obviously, door knocking was no longer an option, but what could we do with our fear and anxiety? After some debate, Rep. Dan Frankel and I made our way to a cordoned-off area near the synagogue and waited with other local officials. Eventually, first responders delivered the grim news: 11 worshippers were dead, four were injured and four responding Pittsburgh Police officers had also been wounded. It was an act of terror that brought the horrifying effects of hate directly into our community.

The shooting was the deadliest antisemitic attack in American history. Pernicious lies about Jewish people continue to be trafficked by prominent commentators and celebrities, feeding an online ecosystem of paranoia and white nationalism that surfaces as real-world violence. The tide of antisemitism continues to rise, as demagogues prey on Jewish stereotypes to rally supporters against a fabricated enemy within. And we know from centuries of historical study that when antisemitic attacks begin, other marginalized groups soon become targets as well.

This week, we observe the fourth commemoration of the lives lost that day. Grief works in strange ways. In some respects, I find the two-, three- and four-year commemorations more difficult to grapple with than the immediate aftermath of the attack. Perhaps I was numbed by shock in the moment, or maybe the weight of the catastrophe builds over time; it’s probably some combination of the two.

There are many similarities between the week of the shooting and this week. Again, there is a midterm election just a couple weeks away. Again, I am thinking about how we strike back against those who seek to erase our neighbors from humanity. For me, one of the ways to respond is the simple, yet powerful act of upholding and fortifying our democratic values. We do the very thing the forces of hate want us not to do — use our power and our voice to create a multi-racial, multi-ethnic, thriving democracy.

This is not a partisan call-to-arms, nor is it a halcyon promise that casting a ballot will cure all of our community’s ills. It’s certainly not a restorative measure; in no way will going to the polls bring the victims back. But by voting and encouraging our families, our friends and our neighbors to do the same, we solidify the bedrock principles of our society — the very principles the terrorist who attacked my neighbors on Oct. 27 sought to destroy.

We vote because in America, we won’t be governed by terror. We won’t be controlled by the threat of violence or vigilantism. In this system, we practice self-government and the rule of law. We choose our leaders and our laws with our votes and voices — not with the barrel of a gun.

During this time of remembrance, as I mourn, reflect and renew my life’s purpose, I recommit to creating the diverse, beloved, democratic society that white supremacists like the one who attacked our city tried to extinguish. I recommit myself, and hopefully those around me, to the belief that all of us — regardless of race, gender, religion, ethnicity or any other identity — has an equal voice in charting our future. I will say with my voice and my vote that an attack on any one group is an attack on the American project itself.

Though I am not Jewish myself, I have been fortunate to absorb many Jewish cultural and religious practices from my husband and his family. I have developed a strong affinity for the philosophy of tikkun olam — “world repair” — that many Jews observe and countless non-Jews admire. The concept of dedicating our time on Earth to slowly but steadily patching up the flaws around us strikes me as a venerable approach to life. It’s also an acknowledgement that antisemitism has unleashed untold hatred, hostility, violence and oppression, and there is much to repair. We may not solve the great issues of our time during our life span, but we can commit to using opportunities big and small to make this planet just a little bit better.

This November, I will keep at the work — repairing the world one thread at a time — by casting my vote. I hope you’ll join me.

Erika Strassburger is a Pittsburgh City Council member.