What is ours to do?

A few reflections and realizations from a week of clarity.

It is an understatement to say that I’ve begun to feel jaded these past few weeks. Amidst the joys and chaos of a family reunion and wedding, the heartache of our crippling democracy and our devastating role in a genocide weighed heavy. What is ours to do in a moment of hopelessness and perceived powerlessness? This week, maybe it was the shock and fear after the assassination attempt, going to yoga several times, or the new Democratic ticket, but I found greater clarity. This substack serves as a reflection on 5 realizations:

1. We need a care-driven world: “It seems as if you care a lot…” a new friend told me over coffee. It wasn’t the words he said but how he said it that held his discomfort. He was supposed to give me career advice but it seemed as if he was confused about why I took care of my grandfather during the pandemic or cared about my parent’s exercise routine. To him, my path of weaving care into what I do didn’t seem like a good career choice. As I thought about his confusing comments throughout the week, I realized that if I don’t get to give care in what I do, then I don’t want to do it. What is ours to do at this moment? It is to practice care and value care in our communities and our families. At times, I feel like care has been hijacked by self-care consumerism, but, if self-care is not refueling us to give care to others, then what’s the point? It is a care ethic that will strengthen us, that will make us safer, that will boost our economy, and that will make our societies healthier overall.

2. Men need more female friends, and vice versa: After a conversation with my cousin, I had a realization that will one day go into my “Menoir” (a future memoir about men and masculinity). Why has society convinced so many men out of male-female friendships, especially among straight women and men? At times the idea of a meaningful heterosexual male-female friendship is dismissed or forbidden due to religious purity, jealousy, or misogyny, but frankly, I think it’s outdated. It is across the male-female divide under non-romantic and non-sexual conditions that I believe we learn most about our humanity and of one another. From my personal experiences, women make excellent friends. My female friends are filled with abundant care and compassion, and ask our male friends more often about emotional topics that their close male friends avoid, such as family dynamics and relationship challenges. My male friends are also amazing, giving me refreshing perspectives, healthy competitiveness, and bringing lightness to heavy conversations. I wish more men, on their quest for discipline physically, could also take that discipline to their relationships to build more friendships with women, not to pick up girls or so that their female friends can therapize them, but so that we can all learn to model and practice better care for one another.

3. We need to be big enough to look: In a podcast this week, I learned of Kenneth Jarecke’s photography during the Gulf War. He took one of the most gruesome and powerful photos of the war, but no major media outlet in the U.S. would publish it at the time. He said of this image, “If I don’t photograph this, people like my mom will think war is what they see on TV.” But Time said it was a “family friendly magazine” and only shared glorifying images of the war, to which he responded “If we’re big enough to start a war we should be big enough to look at it.” His words from 1991 ring true today. Right now we are in a nation “big enough” to fund a genocide, we must be big enough to look at it and talk about it.

   

   Speaking at a fundraiser for Gaza this week

4. Turning to unlikely spaces: The week started with me speaking at a fundraiser for Gaza with inspiring poets, musicians, and activists. I spoke about Abdallah and his family surviving the most recent Al-Mawasi massacre. But this morning I found myself in a completely different space. I went to a synagogue. I hadn’t been to one since I was invited to a Bar Mitzvah when I was 13. Inside this D.C. synagogue, I witnessed three remarkable panelists speaking on their work in Gaza and the humanitarian and moral catastrophe unfolding before our eyes. The panelists had worked in and lived in Gaza, and several were Jewish. Their insights on the conditions of famine and disease and the disastrous humanitarian consequences of the genocide brought many in the audience to look inward and outward. The line that stuck with me was “We have never seen a situation of such famine taking place next to so much abundance.” Let that sink in.

   
   In the small focus groups that followed the panel, I conversed with zionists, anti-zionists, young mothers, and grandparents. I witnessed the power of storytelling in transforming the minds of individuals with significant power and influence. Through tears, as I talked about my friend Abdallah and his family in Gaza, I was reminded that though protests are crucial to maintaining momentum, there is real power in being willing to grieve publicly and, if you feel safe enough to do so, converse face-to-face with people who might not agree with you. (I recognize my privilege to navigate these different spaces and call on others who have privilege and are far enough from the pain to voluntarily sit in the discomfort of necessary, hard conversations).  Inside this synagogue, where an israeli flag was hung on one side of the room, Jewish community members around me were using the words genocide and apartheid. One elderly Jewish man told our group, “The existential threat we as Jews are facing isn’t necessarily Hamas but how Israel’s response to 10/7 is threatening the soul of Judaism.” I have hope that the tides are changing.

5. The Donkey in the Room: Biden stepping down is a crucial reminder of why democracy is important. He didn’t have to (although we wanted him to) but with the pressure of donors and the people he did. Letting go of power, when your time is up, is always the right choice. I am reminded of the Jimi Hendrix quote, “When the power of love overcomes the love of power, the world will know peace.” I’m hoping for new leadership that can bring a love ethic into the administration, ending genocide and mass incarceration, building social safety nets for individuals and families, furthering ethical immigration policies, and creating a more just nation.

That’s all for now <3

Carolina