Notthrowingawayourshot

Manuel Miranda change the words, he also lengthened the pause to allow time for the audience noise to settle down.

I raise this because, no doubt, you know what happened when Mike Pence, our new vice president-elect went to see the play a week after we did. He was booed and got a mouthful at the musical’s end: “We, sir — we — are the diverse America who are alarmed and anxious that your new administration will not protect us, our planet, our children, our parents, or defend us and uphold our inalienable rights. We truly hope that this show has inspired you to uphold our American values and to work on behalf of all of us.” Pence graciously responded that he was not offended and that this is what freedom in a democracy sounds like. His new boss was less conciliatory and, as usual, tweeted out his rage.

I saw the play one week after the election results went public. The anxiety of immigrants is palpable. I’ve never before felt it as an American citizen, and, as a Jew from an immigrant family, I am profoundly disturbed by the president-elect’s rhetoric and the newly acquired opportunity to act on it.

You see, as I was standing at the back of the orchestra section, what I saw was a different America. To me, our founding fathers all had the chalk-white complexion of Mount Rushmore. The musical challenged that by making Hamilton black and Jefferson Hispanic, by forcing us out of the familiar and pushing us to understand that American today is not only for or governed by old white men, even though one will soon be our next president. Our master narrative cannot be one colour or from one place. It never was.

The Talmud [BT Bava Metzia 59b] debates whether the prohibition to oppress the stranger appears 36 or 46 times. Either way, the repetition is noteworthy as a summation of our foundational values. In our history, we have lived time and again as strangers. If this does not apply to you, it likely applied to your parents or grandparents. It may, let’s not be naïve, one day apply to your children or grandchildren. In other words, no matter who leads us, we must be vigilant about protecting the stranger.

The theme song of that gets repeated at different junctures is A young, scrappy and hungry immigrant named Alexander Hamilton sees in America an opportunity close enough to touch it. He says, “I got to holler just to be heard.” What echoed at the theatre, in addition to the creative lyrics and plot, was a roomful of people who hollered just to be heard. Immigrants get the job done. Pause. Continue.

I’m glad I saw a week after the election. It reminded me, in my postelection slump, of what this country was, is and will always be: a place where immigrants get a shot at transforming their lives. If that ethos is under harm’s way, then we’ll be extra vigilant to make sure it is protected. Presidents come and go. Values endure. We can wait another four years. As Jews, we must also stand on guard for four years. We are not throwing away that shot.

Standing at the back, I saw a America

Dr Erica Brown is an associate professor at George Washington University and director of its Mayberg Center for Jewish Education and Leadership.