Building Change Through Community

What’s the difference between pragmatism and vision? Is community organizing more about incremental strategy or long-term goals? How do we actually make our voices heard and create change? These were the questions posed at JCUA’s youth organizing retreat, held on February 6 and 7 at the Darst Center, a social justice retreat center.
Under the guidance of Talia Yaari, JCUA’s Youth Leadership Coordinator, and Mara Wolkoff, Director of Organizing, Or Tzedek interns and Organizing Caucus youth liaisons reflected on what these questions mean to us. Talia read a series of statements, and in response we moved to one side of the room or the other depending on our degree of agreement. Many of us stood awkwardly for a few moments before drifting toward the middle.
That was when I realized that organizing rarely fits into binaries. It cannot be definitively categorized as pragmatic or visionary because meaningful change requires a long-term vision paired with individual realistic steps. But even more foundational than vision or strategy is building a sense of community.
Or Tzedek meets twice a month for two-and-a-half-hour workshops. While the program is a significant time commitment, each session is typically structured around an advocacy lesson to work through, leaving minimal time for extended socializing. The leadership retreat allowed us to form a kehilla – a community – through celebrating Shabbat, making Havdalah, playing hide-and-seek, and even whipping up graham cracker, banana and m&m desserts in a “Chopped”-style baking competition. We went into the retreat knowing each other’s names and we came out as a collective group of organizers.
As we strengthened our community, we learned about the process of consensus-building. A central goal of the retreat was to select a campaign to focus our efforts on for the second half of the year. After spending the first few months of Or Tzedek learning about different campaigns, we worked together to decide what was most important to us. We had discussed campaigns such as Bring Chicago Home, Youth Healing Chi – an advocacy group focused on expanding mental health services in CPS – and the Illinois Coalition for Immigrant and Refugee Rights (ICIRR), whose 2026 platform encompasses economic equality, progressive revenue and increasing health care access.
On Saturday afternoon, we split into three groups to create presentations on these campaigns based on what we were most passionate about. Gathered in a circle, we gave thumbs up, thumbs to the side or thumbs down to indicate how we were feeling about each campaign. When immigration was called, every thumb was either up or sideways. The decision was clear.
Consensus-building does not mean that the chosen campaign was everyone’s first choice. Being a cohort of organizers means that we have to make compromises, negotiate, and engage in generative conflict around how to move forward. Because of the relationships we built and the strength of our consensus process, everyone in Or Tzedek is fully committed to fighting for the ICIRR platform, whether or not it was their top choice campaign.
We had the chance to put our learning into action on Feb 25, when several Or Tzedek participants joined a larger group of JCUA members in Springfield to lobby Illinois state legislators to support the Illinois Coalition for Immigrant and Refugee Rights’ platform. It was my first trip to Springfield, and wasn’t sure what to expect. A fellow Or Tzedek member and I were despondent after we failed to track down Rep. Margaret Croke. We trudged around the capitol building and were upset to see her meeting room empty. Just when we felt like giving up, we managed to catch Sen. Sara Feigenholtz and discussed the platform with her and the rest of the JCUA youth organizers.
Senator Feigenholtz asked difficult questions, such as which prison holds the people we were referring to when referencing the post-conviction relief part of the platform. But we did not back down. We explained that we had taken the day off school to lobby at Springfield, and we were all high schoolers who were passionate about immigration advocacy. In our meeting, Sen. Feigenholtz committed to supporting the ICIRR platform.
The strong relationships I’d built during the Or Tzedek retreat gave me confidence talking to state legislators. I learned that while we don’t always have perfectly polished answers, we have something much more important: we have each other’s backs.
Over 150 people lobbied at Springfield that day in support of the ICIRR platform. On the bus back to Chicago, ICIRR members chanted, “¡Si se puede!” – “Yes it is possible”, a chant coined by Dolores Huerta in the 1970s when she was organizing migrant farm workers in California. I left Springfield energized, excited to continue fighting for change, and proud to be rooted in the Or Tzedek community.