Who is the "we"?

Segments of an interview with Rabbi Lau-Lavie by Krista Tippett: 

I want to share . . . this Talmudic parable about a ship that is sailing, and there are many cabins. And one of the people in the cabins on the lower floor decides to dig a hole in the floor of his cabin, and does so, and sure enough, the ship begins to sink. And the other passengers suddenly discover what’s going on and see this guy with a hole in the floor. And they say, “What are you doing?” And he says, “Well, it’s my cabin. I paid for it.” And down goes the ship.
. . .
And it’s a story in the Talmud that talks about human responsibility in the Jewish sense — that we’re all in the same ship together. But I’ve been wrestling with it and talking about . . .  what does it mean for us to be that person? And where have we been only focusing on my cabin and me-me-me-me-me-me-me-me-me-me, and where are we not part of a “we”? And how is that true of every single one of us, and how that is true in some ways of America, and how the narcissistic, me-focused, insight-driven, my own needs and aspirations in this age have taken so hold of us that the sense of public and communal and responsible-for-other, including the limping and the weak at the edges of our camp, in some way has not been looked at as religious traditions have taught us to and as the Bible again and again reminds us: “Remember the Other. Remember the Other. You were the Other.”
And then the question is, what is the “we,” because the boundaries of what is “we “are shifting.
. . .

It’s so easy to descend into animosity and either/or. . . . And I’m trying to think, how do we use love? How do we go face-to-face in difficult conversations with those who see the world so differently than some of us and whose values are coming from the good place of “me” and “preservation,” and even have a “we” in mind, but it’s not as expansive and radical as the we that I’m thinking of and some of us are? How do we use love? . . .

Ms. Tippett: Yeah, and it is something we — we have to walk this, right, because there aren’t answers to that question you’re posing. I mean I was thinking, also, at the very beginning when you talked about a new sense of God being born after the Holocaust, that the kindness — kindness — I mean I think love is also — it sounds so grand, and it sounds like it’s something you have to feel. And this love we have to practice now and learn to practice is so much more practical than that.

Rabbi Lau-Lavie: It’s daily. It’s daily practice. It’s ironic to me now — I’m in my late 40s, and I’m a father, and I’m a rabbi, and I’m looking at my life and how it’s evolving and who knows what else. And I sit every morning for a few moments, wrapped up in my father’s prayer shawl. I meditate and write in my journal. I rarely use any of the liturgical texts. And what it’s about is discipline. It’s just daily discipline. It’s a workout. And it’s the workout for gratitude. And it’s a workout for what Heschel called radical amazement and wonder. And it’s just an exercise in meditation in silence. Sit for a few moments and cultivate love.