In a new book receiving lots of buzz, author Robert D. Putnam suggests that a serious decline in civic involvement and community activism undermines the very core of American society. Bowling Alone: The Collapse and Revival of American Community documents downward sloping interest in bowling leagues--a 72% drop in recent years--among other communal groups, comparing their shrinking numbers to a trend toward massive civic disengagement.

Putnam builds his case using statistics and anecdotes. Among the more eye-catching numbers, his research notes a 57% decrease in those who attended a public meeting. Decreases of 53% and 46%, respectively, were noted in numbers of individuals who served as officers or committee members of community organizations, and those who signed a petition.

Activist Heather Booth puts a slightly different spin on the state of civic involvement at the millennium. A veteran of civil rights marches and the fight for passage of the Equal. Rights Amendment and acting director of Amos, a new initiative designed to promote social justice and activism within the Jewish community, she says that people do still have a hunger for engagement.

"People want to believe in the struggle for justice in the face of injustice." Booth rattles off a number of recent examples. Last fall's "Battle in Seattle" in response to the World Trade Organization meetings proved that young people, in particular, remain committed to ideals that transcend self-actualization and materialistic pursuit of wealth.

In South Carolina last spring, 50,000 protested the flying of the Confederate flag over the state capital. Communities across the country are passing living wage bills--the result of strong pressure from citizens groups. And last May, 700,000 convened on the National Mall to rally for sensible gun laws--a march conceived out of one woman's anger at the rash of gun violence in recent years.

Why bother? Politicians are still going to do their thing, regardless of what the citizenry says. School systems are still going to keep teachers who do not teach well, and county authorities will endorse economic development policies that expand the revenue base at the expense of the environment. Does what we say make a difference?

Jewish tradition tells us that it does, and that we can and should speak out about policies that affect not only the larger world, but also our own lives. Need a basis for support of "slow growth" economic development? The Mishnah in Bava Batra 2:3 has an answer:

"No one may open a bakery or a dye shop under the dining room of another, nor a cow barn. A store in a courtyard? One may protest and say I cannot sleep because of all the noise of the people entering and leaving the store."

"Elected officials do hear our messages, even when it seems as if they are not listening," insists Booth. And speaking out, even as a lone voice, is an eminently Jewish thing to do, according to Rabbi Gordon Freeman. "Our entire tradition is based on consent. Everyone has to be authorized, even God." Rabbi Freeman says that it is the responsibility of every citizen to exercise his or her right to agree or disagree.

"Officials cannot act without our consent. We have to give them our support or tell them what the problem is, just as in the days of the prophets. It was the responsibility of the prophets to let the kings know whether or not their decrees were righteous."

Rabbi Freeman says the concept remains equally true today. "Activism is implied throughout our tradition. If we are unhappy with something, we have to get a referendum on the legislative calendar, so elected officials can debate it. If we do not like the outcome, we can vote them out of office."

Despite some compelling trends to the contrary, many people are bucking the much-publicized trend of isolation and disengagement with the firm belief that individuals taking a stand can make a difference. They have rolled up their collective sleeves and gotten busy. Many of them, from the very grassiest of roots to the highest corridors of elected power, cut their teeth in a Jewish context.

Take Elaine Bloom, for example. This Florida state representative, currently in the midst of a run for Congress, never intended to become a career politician. She learned to speak out on issues of importance through her involvement with the National Council of Jewish Women. "NCJW was the best training ground," explains Bloom's congressional campaign manager Jeffrey Garcia. "She remembers when she was shy and couldn't speak out. NCJW taught her how to mobilize and how to organize."

In her first run at the legislature, Bloom succeeded in getting her name on the ballot by knocking on doors in neighborhood after neighborhood, to obtain enough signatures to be included as a write-in candidate against a powerful incumbent. She won.

Others have followed her lead. In Florida alone, six women running for seats in the state legislature earned their activist stripes with NCJW--a remarkable statistic. The Jewish connection for Bloom, is "more than just coincidence," says her campaign manager.

How can you jumpstart your own inner activist?

Booth recommends starting by speaking out on issues that matter to you--right at home. As founder of the Midwest Academy, a training ground for budding activists and organizers, Booth's work has always emphasized the difference even one voice can make, and the power created when like-minded people come together for a cause. "If you really think you can't do anything about the big picture, the most important thing is to focus on your own community--is there adequate home care for the elderly, are there good schools, a trustworthy police force?" Once people start locally, they begin to understand the importance and the value of speaking out on the bigger issues as well.

And while it is true that our lives are more time-deprived than ever before, some still manage to show up at meetings, to staff the polls, to speak out at the school board.

Ellen Balis is one. Elementary school PTA president, girl scout leader, officer of the local civic association, officer of her synagogue sisterhood, as well as the full-time working mother of two children, Balis is the poster girl for meaningful civic involvement. She says she cannot imagine her life any different. "I'm not sure if it's a Jewish thing or a just a values thing, because for me, the two are completely intertwined. I do these things because they are important—I learned that from my parents, and I hope I am setting an example for my children."

Even when the meetings drag on endlessly, even when the issues will not set the world on fire, still, she goes. She is quick to point out the reason. "One year at Christmas our civic association wanted to sell a book called A Child's Guide to Jesus." Balis publicly registered her concern. "I knew it wasn't out of malice, but out of ignorance. I think I helped educate a group of people who had no idea that what they were planning was a bad idea." The association voted not to sell the book.

Balis, too, is aware that fewer people today step forward to play a part in local civic life, but that fact does not deter her. Booth suggests that the drop in involvement Balis observes from personal experience, and discussed in Putnam's book, may be due in part to the changing nature of some of the issues and to the increased complexity of the world.

Civic activism as we once knew it must change along with the times. To be sure, as Putnam claims, there is expanded prosperity, and with it, a level of civic complacency. "But we need to provide new tools to grapple with new sorts of issues," she says. And in working for the betterment of our own communities, we gradually improve our larger world as well. It is this goal that Robert Putnam would like to see restored on top of the nation's priority list.

Clearly, some in the Jewish community are already doing just that.

You can too.