And I don’t know what it takes to end systemic racism in this country.

But I know that the fear and rage and the pain and the racism must stop.

And I know that George Floyd is the latest of senseless deaths that have occurred at the hands of police in this country.

I was not there in Minneapolis. I wasn’t there when Eric Garner was killed. Or Ahmaud Arbery. Or Breonna Taylor. Or Michael Brown. I do not know each of the details. But there is something very wrong with our country that these deaths still occur.

In the past two months, we have demonstrated what is possible when faced with a pandemic. As a community, as a country, as a world, we have come together to fight a disease that attacks and kills us. However, COVID-19 is not random. It harms the elderly, the compromised much more than young, healthy teens. Nonetheless, we have taken it upon ourselves to fight this pandemic, to each do her/his part by physical distancing, by wearing face masks, by washing hands, by quarantining, regardless of our own level of risk. We are using enormous resources to heal those most affected and to seek a cure.

What about the pandemic of racism? No less than COVID-19, it spreads throughout our country without being seen, yet its affects are made clear over and over again. Regardless of our own vulnerability to this disease, we share in the responsibility. It is time for us together to eradicate racism wherever and whenever it is found.

George Floyd could not breathe. But each of us can — and must — speak up and speak loudly.

There is a reason why the Jewish community stood shoulder-to-shoulder with the black community in the 1960s, when we thought we would end the centuries-long pandemic of racism that roiled our nation. We stood with the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. and other leaders of the Civil Rights Movement because — as Jews — we understand what it means to be powerless. We understand what it means to be enslaved. We understand what it means to be beaten, broken and murdered because of how we were born.

We also understand what it means to be a community, a place of support and solidarity. And that is what we must do today.

There are protests and marches and rallies all over the country...including our community. Given the potential for spread of COVID-19, I cannot — in good conscience — ask people to physically join those events.

But that does not mean we can be silent. We can breathe. We can speak. And we must.

Post on social media. Write your congressional, your state representatives. Call them. Call your mayor. Ask what your police department is doing to address systemic racism. Attend a city council meeting either physically or virtually. Get on your school board. Insist that our children learn the ugliness of this pandemic. And how to fight it. Demand that we act today — in our neighborhoods — to make sure that every citizen is afforded equal dignity.

Let me be clear. Many — most — the vast majority — of our law enforcement officials are good, decent human beings. I support them. I applaud their willingness to put their lives on the line each and every day for us. And today, our police and other law enforcement groups are facing terrible choices: how to uphold the right to protest and rage against injustice and — at the same time — contain and stop rioting, looting and senseless violence. We must condemn rioting, the looting, the violence in the strongest terms. None of it promotes the cause of justice. It is not right.

But I understand.

What is emerging in these actions is the manifestation of our racism disease. It is deep. It is systemic. It has infected me and every other person — of whatever color skin.

As Jews, we are commanded to remember that we were slaves. And in the Leviticus 25:10, we are called upon to “proclaim liberty throughout the land and unto all its inhabitants thereof.”

Not white or black or brown inhabitants. Not Christian or Jewish or Muslim inhabitants. Not Republican or Democrat. All inhabitants. It is time to make sure that every inhabitant is free...and feels free.

George Floyd can no longer breathe. We can. What will we do with our breath?