It’s hard to find the words. Everything feels insignificant. I’ve been trying (mostly unsuccessfully) for weeks to get back to a “normal” work routine, but I often find myself consumed, both mentally and emotionally, with what’s going on in Gaza. It’s hard to open Instagram, the app from which most of my work relies and lives, and not be bombarded with images and videos that absolutely break my heart over and over. It’s the privilege of a lifetime to bear witness to someone else’s grief and suffering from afar, from the comfort of our own homes. Ignoring the reality of what is going on feels impossible. I’ve been trying to weave in non-Israel/Palestine related content from time to time, but it feels strange and truly not where my heart is. As we approach a holiday that is steeped in false narrative, I encourage you to take some time to educate and reflect on what is going on in Israel/Palestine and what imperial powers have done to indigenous groups since the dawn of time.
I will never claim to know everything, that would be impossible for any of us, but I do know that war does not bring peace. Violence begets violence. Freedom built on oppression is not real freedom. Peace will never come without accountability, without justice. I believe in the safety, dignity and freedom of all people, Jews and Muslims, Israelis and Palestinians, all humans worldwide. This is contingent on nothing. I believe in human rights for everyone, not just those that look like me or share the same political or spiritual beliefs as me. I will not give up hope that there is a political solution that gives both Israelis and Palestinians the peace, safety, freedom and dignity they deserve and desire.
A free Palestine, giving land back to indigenous communities, and decolonization do not mean the genocide of another people. These movements are about accountability, equity and liberation for all. These movements seek to destroy systems that are structured to benefit one people over another. These movements are far more rooted in peace and liberation than the false, status-quo peace and freedom modern colonial systems represent. These movements are not against people, they are for ALL people.
Collectively, we are awakening. It’s been gutting to read and watch atrocity after atrocity happen over the last month and a half, but seeing the way in which our global community has rallied to advocate for Palestinians and to fight against violence and oppression has been massively inspiring. I find the strength to keep talking about it, to keep calling my reps, to keep marching in the streets through those around me who are committed to this movement. To see my Jewish brothers and sisters, especially the ones in Israel, standing up and using their voices when they have so much on the line is beyond inspiring. And to witness the resilience of the Palestinian people over the last 75 years gives me a strength I didn’t even know I had. I’ve always stood for justice, for humanity, for peace. And I will always stand with whomever needs my voice to fight against the systems and governments that seek to oppress and destroy us. It’s the least I can do, especially as a white person.
Moving closer to truth requires both a lot of energy and a lot of introspection. Accessing truth requires us to acknowledge our own past and our collective past. We must admit and recognize how our past has caused suffering and pain. We must look deeply at the ways in which we have contributed to and upheld the suffering of ourselves and of others. It’s uncomfortable work. It requires us to really feel those feelings of guilt and shame and embarrassment, of complacency. But this is how we heal and how we gather the energy and strength to move forward and act as participants in the kind of world we want to create.
We are living in unprecedented times. Hold yourself and others accountable, but also remember the power of compassion and kindness. Facing the truth can be dark and terrifying as hell, but real freedom and liberation for all cannot come unless we do.
Trust that you have the strength and power to do what it takes.
I love you.
I shared this list in June 2020 during BLM, but it’s relevant now, and I want to share it again here. For myself and for anyone else who might need it.
Remember: it’s a marathon, not a sprint. Let’s not lose momentum over the coming days, months or years. Because advocating for justice and for systematic change requires us to actively participate in this work over the course of our lifetime.
1.) Rest. Take care. As the brilliant Black civil rights activist and feminist Audre Lorde said, “Caring for myself is not self-indulgence, it is self-preservation, and that is an act of political warfare.”
2.) Set aside time for self-education. Make lists of books, articles, podcasts, movies, TV shows (some recommendations further down in this newsletter) that you plan to use as tools for doing the work. Set realistic goals.
3.) Limit time on social media. Use it as a tool for education and a way to spread awareness and use your voice. But recognize when it’s causing you more harm than good, and remember taking breaks are important for your mental health.
4.) Reflect on the ways you can best serve this moment and what personal actions you can take that will be most helpful. Use your energy wisely. Everyone has a role to play. And not everyone can play every role. Actions needed in this time: advocating for the voiceless, posting on social media, calling your reps to demand ceasefire, donating to organizations on the ground, having hard conversations with friends and loved ones.
5.) Have real conversations! Social media is a valuable tool for change, but don’t forget to put your energy into having uncomfortable conversations with people in your everyday life. Commit to having real conversations about what is going on and sharing the work and resources you’ve collected with people in your life.
6.) Remember there is room for joy AND grief. We as humans have the capacity to hold a wide range of emotions. Let yourself feel them all. Sit with each one.
7.) Remember the importance of kindness and patience. As Dom Roberts said, “We were all learning at one point. Give people a chance to grow.” Let people change their minds when presented with new information.
This month, take some time to reflect on your personal truths and the collective truth. I love this series of questions from Zeba Blay:
1.) What do we owe each other, really?
2.) Is genocide ever up for debate?
3.) What do you unequivocally stand for?
4.) What do you unequivocally stand against?
5.) Who are you?
6.) Who are you, really?
7.) Are you actually who you say you are?
8.) When no one is watching?
9.) If your sense of comfort or safety comes at the expense of someone else’s, are you truly comfortable? Are you truly safe?
10.) What gifts can you bring to revolution?
11.) What function does fear play in your life?
12.) What are you afraid of?
13.) Is your fear bigger than your faith?
14.) Are you committed to life (not simply your own, or the lives of people you love, but to life as a whole, as an entity in and of itself)?
Here is a short list of resources:
Use the 5 Calls app to demand a ceasefire
Jewish Voice for Peace: 8 ways to have hard conversations about ceasefire this Thanksgiving.
The Hundred Years’ War on Palestine by Rashid Khalidi
Life in Occupied Palestine by Anna Baltzer
Palestinian journalists on the ground in Gaza: Motaz Azaiza, Plestia Alaqad, Bisan Owda, Ahmed Hijazi and Hind Khoudary
Speech by Palestinian representative at the United Nations
Dr. Gabor Maté on Israel/Palestine
The Fragile Hope for Peace in Israel/Palestine with Sally Abed of Standing Together
Fariha Róisín’s Substack: How to Cure a Ghost
The Ethnic Cleansing of Palestine by Ilan Pappe