Intense Repair Takes Work, not Just Slogans

Recent news has rattled me, and I’ve struggled with putting my feelings into words. I am scared. I am uneasy. I am concerned. Not because I am blaming or vilifying one “side” of the political spectrum. Not because I believe that one “side” is more morally right. Not even because of what is going on in politics right now. But because, as a nation and as a society, we are losing our guiding moral compass and our humanity. We are becoming numb to pain. We are becoming insensitive to human suffering. We are choosing to pick sides rather than differentiate between right and wrong.

Talmud (Sanhedrin 37a): “Whoever saves a single life is considered by scripture to have saved the whole world.”

It can be summarized then that destroying one life is equivalent to destroying our world. How much of our world will be destroyed before we understand the sanctity of human life?

“And a stranger shalt thou not oppress; for ye know the heart of a stranger, seeing ye were strangers in the land of Egypt.” Exodus 23:9.

Anybody who reads or says they follow the Bible should be some of the nicest people to immigrants. Especially considering the only ones who did not immigrate here originally are indigenous Americans.

Shall I go on?

History Speaks for Itself

Now, before you get mad and call me every name you can think of, let me clarify that I’m a political moderate. I don’t choose “sides.” I highlight injustice. It’s my duty as both a social justice advocate and as a Jew.

I honestly hate delving into politics because it’s messy and stressful. But I choose to show up to these conversations with facts and fairness. And this time is no different. It’s time I spoke up about what I’m seeing.

Regardless of whether or not you believe ICE should or shouldn’t exist, we can’t deny that they have not been operating justly as of late. And that’s a problem.

• An autistic woman was pulled out of her car by ICE for not following commands quickly enough.

• Toddlers have been arrested by ICE.

• Two people were shot and killed by ICE, weeks apart from each other. Alex Pretti and Renee Good.

Not to mention that many US citizens have been wrongfully detained by ICE, including indigenous Americans, and immigrants have been mistreated and permanently traumatized by the tactics ICE is using. The Supreme Court even issued an order that ICE could technically use skin color/race as a factor in stops and arrests. That’s not okay, no matter what.

My heart goes out to the families who have suffered or lost loved ones because of this injustice. I want those responsible to be held accountable and justice for the families. I’m scared it could happen again to someone else, to me, or to someone I know. I have to think about carrying my passport or other documentation of citizenship when I head out of my home, because I clearly don’t look “American enough.”

It is at moments like these that history calls back to me. As a Black Jewish, autistic queer woman, none of this is new to me. It’s a retraumatizing pattern, but unfortunately familiar.

The Realities of When My Intersectionality Isn’t Trendy or Cute

I grew up hearing about people with and without badges harming those who looked like me. My parents had to give me “the talk” about race and how to stay safe when interacting with an officer when I was seven.

My grandmother went to a segregated school and still doesn’t talk about it. My Ghanaian Jewish foremother survived the Maafa, or Middle Passage, brought here against her will and stripped of her culture and language with a forced conversion and enslavement. My ancestors had to carry papers to travel between plantations so they wouldn’t get stopped and harassed. Antisemitism is surging. And everyone wants to avoid that discussion and still call themselves social justice warriors. I’ve lost many friends and safe spaces because I could no longer pretend that being Jewish wasn’t a huge part of my intersectionality. Hate takes many forms, but it looks the same under the surface.

I am also the granddaughter of an immigrant, and I understand the importance of treating immigrants with respect. Not only is it biblical, but it’s essential to our nation’s history and humanity’s connection.

As a queer and disabled woman, I face unique challenges and fears surrounding safety and security due to my identity and who I love. Rollbacks on supports and protections have left me questioning where I fit and how safe I really am.

Not to mention, I work in the policy and advocacy fields. I see some of the backend. It’s my job to be informed and research things before jumping to conclusions. I learned early on how to objectively navigate policy, implementation, and public discourse. Even from that professional perspective, patterns emerge.

So, forgive me if my interpretation of modern events is different than just quoting slogans, demonizing people, or making obtuse historical comparisons.

Hype Doesn’t Phase Me

I admit, I am an outlier in my generation. I live every day being attacked on all sides for being too much or not enough of something or the other. I fit in nowhere. I fully agree with no one. All the while, I’m thinking, “Here we are, all these years later, still dealing with leadership failures, repeated history, and lots and lots of violence.” We feed this cycle with our own biases, division, and hatred, playing right into the game.

When we go silent. When we avoid nuance. When we let quick glances at headlines inform us more than real stories from real people. When we choose sides over values. We miss the bigger picture and allow history to repeat itself. We’ve forgotten how to live ethically, and we’ve been told politics and pop culture will solve it. It never has.

Hatred is hatred. Harm is harm. And we can’t be selective about when we want to point it out, or who we want to listen to, and expect change to just magically appear.

What we are seeing now is not new. This has been the reality of minoritized individuals in America for as long as we can remember. It’s a shared and generational trauma that NEVER gets easier to process.

We should have the same outrage, regardless of who the victim is or who has done the harm, of the incessant overreach and misuse of power. Regardless of what political position you may hold,

I love you because that’s human. That’s Torah. You deserve a vibrant, safe life. That should be the standard.

I’ve sat in a room with people who believed the total opposite of what I did. Collaborated with people who didn’t even think I deserved to be in their presence. Earned the respect of people who openly admitted to the stereotypes they believed about me. Responded in kindness to those showing me ill intent online. In all those instances, I came out with my morals intact and having created an impact that is still reverberating to this day.

Insults don’t create change. Refusing to listen to someone who thinks differently doesn’t create change. Why? Because repair isn’t just done with those we agree with. It’s done because ALL of humanity needs it.

Tikkun Olam isn’t Optional

It is my responsibility as a person of faith (and as a future clergy member) to push for repair, not further division. You will find no name-calling, curse words, or lashon hara on my pages. You will not find one singular political alignment. I’m a maverick, a wildcard. And I like it that way.

You will find acts of repair. Joy, hope, positivity, and lots of accountability. And that’s what our broken world needs most right now.

To me, repair looks like

• Checking on people processing heartbreaking news

• Reminding people to be safe and spreading info about recent events

• Having productive conversations about political beliefs and how we can find a middle ground

• Stating facts and not misinformation or propaganda

• Avoiding fearmongering

• Being around people who share different beliefs without fighting or making “sides”

• Advocating in policy to make change

• Increasing representation with videos and content so people see us instead of just statistics

• Taking a moment to remove myself from the screens and breathe so I can show up online as my best self

• Differentiating between when things need to be called out for what they are versus when outcry is rooted in misinformation and fear

• Donating to community organizations promoting change

• Voting in elections to get people out who are not doing what they promised

And there are so many more ways.

This is how we foster discussion without hating each others’ guts. This is how we manage political discourse. The future is what we make it. No one determines that for us.

I know I can’t please everyone, even as a moderate. People can look at the news outlets I cited and the words I used, and still think they can label me. They can pick apart my words and assume they know me. But that would be missing the point.

Yes, I’m scared. Yes, I’m angry. But my anger and fear are not directed at a person, perspective, or group. It’s directed at the conditions, beliefs, and lack of empathy we’ve allowed ourselves to fall prey to. We’ve made idols out of our leaders and political perspectives at the expense of sanity and fairness. We’ve allowed discourse to turn into discord simply because we can’t make space for each other anymore. We’ve allowed our algorithms to craft our echochambers, missing the larger issues.

The path forward is repair. Will we live up to our responsibilities, or bend under pressure and become the kind of people we say we hate so much? Truth always wins. History often rhymes. It’s up to us to repair the world and move beyond partisan politics and emotional numbness to see the humanity in every person and push for long-lasting change rooted in respecting wholeness and sacred complexity. I think we can do it.

*These opinions are solely my own and not associated with or reflective of any of the orgs I am affiliated with. This may not have been written perfectly, but it’s what I feel. Please be kind.