Rants and Reflection: My Quiet Journey Since October 7
Editor’s note: I want to start by saying thank you to my Israeli, Palestinian, Muslim, and Jewish friends who have given me food for thought, space to talk, and an open mind and empathetic ear. This article is less of an educational tool and more of an inarticulate emotional release that has been important for me to work through. Thank you to all my friends who have provided space, a sounding board, and support memes. Thank you to my friends who have had difficult and respectful conversations with me. It means more to me than you know. May we all continue to move forward, even if only one conversation at a time.
I’ve been staring at a blank cursor for months. MONTHS. I’ve written, erased, and rewritten this countless times, and finally, I decided I just have to go. I have to write why, right after I relaunched Ranty Em, I almost immediately went dark. So be warned this is going to be a long, rambling mess.
October 7 left me with both too many and not enough words. There is unspeakable suffering among Israelis, Palestinians, Jews, and Arabs, and I have found it impossible to exercise enough care to type out my thoughts and experiences. There is simply no way to succinctly provide the context and nuance required for my Ranty Em project (rantisodes aside). Simultaneously, I’ve been unable to motivate myself to publish other topics in the wake of the ongoing and devastating Israel-Hamas War.
So I stopped publishing. I continued to write – to process my emotions and thoughts. To share my experiences with close friends and family. To cope.
It’s time for me to move forward. It isn’t what I wanted to write. It isn’t what I tried to write. But it is what I need to write.
This won’t help you better understand the Israel/Palestine conflict. It’s unlikely to talk you down from whatever knee-jerk reaction comes to mind. It will barely even touch on my lived experience as a left-leaning Jew, seeing the anti-Jewish sentiments coming from both the left and right. It certainly won’t articulate the experiences of Palestinian and Arab Americans. And it won’t provide a comprehensive, balanced look at the anti-Jewish and anti-Arab vitriol that is 100% exploding globally. I hope it will give a glimpse into why I’ve been quiet and why I haven’t been able to simply publish other topics without addressing at least a piece of what’s been happening.
Mostly I hope it will give outside observers some tangible things they can do to help the people in need, instead of perpetually spewing misinformed, bigoted vitriol at Arabs and Jews. Looking at you, TikTok and Reddit.
Difficult topics require trust
Even in times of honored ceasefires, I’ve struggled to write about the Israeli/Palestine conflict. For one thing, it’s an extremely complex issue with broad-ranging implications and an extensive history that does not adhere to western culture and our comparatively young country. And humans have a natural inclination to draw parallels – however flawed – from global issues to our own. I’m guilty of it myself, but we would all be better off to recognize the impulse and make a conscious effort to replace comparison with context.
For another thing, I’m Jewish and no matter what I say, how much I know – no matter how much time I’ve spent focusing on the importance of context, nuance, multiple sources, outcomes over outrage, even close friends dismiss what I say as biased. Or emotionally charged and therefore invalid. This innate distrust in my ability to be objective about issues impacting Jews because of my Jewishness is ever-present, both under the surface and overtly. There seems to be an asterisk in some people’s minds when people fight for their own causes, as if fighting for equality, justice, or human rights are selfish acts. PLOT TWIST – they’re not. Fighting for fundamental rights is not an attack on others. It isn’t “me, not you.” It’s “us.” Just not the scary Jordan Peele version.
It’s also worth stating the obvious. Difficult conversations are difficult. Be skeptical of anyone who claims to have all the answers or who oversimplifies. Ignoring context and nuance is a bad faith attempt to persuade but not to educate. And those unwilling to learn aren’t interested in progress.
I am not suggesting that one person’s point of view should be taken as ground truth. Nor am I suggesting everyone’s opinion should be given equal weight. Like with everything I talk about, context is critical. When we’re trying to understand complex issues, there is rarely, if ever, a single source of truth. It’s complicated; it doesn’t exist in a vacuum; and anyone who claims otherwise is selling something.
Don’t get me wrong – social media can be a valuable tool to raise awareness and mobilize positive action. But it’s also been gamified for fake internet points, derailing meaningful dialogue and outcomes with easy-to-share, rage-baiting soundbites.
Real talk about this talk? When it comes to Israel/Palestine, if you’re not an expert – and very few are – then your time is better spent listening to reputable sources on each side of the issue before amplifying anything.
People tell me they’re sharing stories to educate and raise awareness, but by-and-large, most people only share what aligns with their views. I do not doubt I’m guilty of this too. In fact, a few weeks ago, I impulsively shared a meme and had a good friend respectfully call me on what it said. I reread it, and I recognized she was right. I thanked her and took it down – not because she asked me to. She didn’t. I took it down because it didn’t represent the way I wanted to communicate about what’s happening. I hadn’t exercised enough care, and I am grateful she felt comfortable to engage with me in an honest and open way. We all get caught up in our emotions, and when we misstep because of it, we can correct it. Difficult topics are difficult. I cannot overstate the importance trust plays in having productive, meaningful discussions.
Tikkun olam means “heal the world”
I’ve been at this now for a long time, but in college and for several years after, I felt like an absolute failure. Some context? Tikkun olam, an important part of Judaism around repairing the world, was a big part of my adolescence. My parents instilled in me the importance of helping others and pursuing social justice. And they did so – and still do – by example. It was part of my Hebrew school. It was part of my Jewish summer camp. I’d always been taught that we have a duty to perform mitzvot (commandments, but colloquially means good deeds). Not because we’ll be punished if we don’t or be rewarded if we do – but because it’s the right thing to do. And that has stayed with me.
But when it came to raising awareness and involvement around Jewish issues, I couldn’t productively navigate conversations about antisemitism or Israel. Even with good friends. I had studied these issues my entire life. I graduated with a degree in COMMUNICATION. And yet, I had very little success articulating these very real and persistent issues. It seemed, accurate or not, that the only people who cared about antisemitism were us. This idea that because many Jewish Americans are of European descent was enough for non-Jews to broadly think that discrimination didn’t touch us. And while there’s no denying there are differences between Jewish discrimination and other marginalized communities, especially today, it has always been here. Plus, this doesn’t even touch the additional challenges Jews of color face, with many straight out denying their existence.
In my early twenties, shocking absolutely no one, my emotions ran hotter; my fuse, shorter. So other than the occasional donation or charity event, I gave up combating anti-Jewish and anti-Israel sentiment.
But I still felt compelled to take action to help people, and civil rights and equality for all had always been important to me. So I changed course.
I spent years exclusively focused on activism for issues that didn’t directly impact me, listening and acting as an ally from an outsider’s perspective. To this day, it’s fundamental to who I am. You don’t just fight the fights that impact you. “You fight the fights that need fighting” – something I wholeheartedly believe despite having 100% stolen the line from A.J. MacInerny in The American President. (If you’re going to steal language, you could do worse than stealing from Aaron Sorkin.) And you know what? I found it more satisfying. Learning about, discussing, and raising awareness on issues like LGTBQ+ rights, redlining, voter suppression, racial disparity in marijuana arrests (among other things), for-profit prisons (they are terrible, by the way), exploitation of sex workers – I became voracious to learn and help, whether with amplification, listening, sharing, donating, volunteering.
It felt so good. I had more successful conversations, both with friends and strangers. In person and online. I recall joking that I would put “changed opinions on Facebook” on my resume. It had seemed so futile, and yet here I was, talking with people, as I thought I’d done before, but seemingly with more credibility, despite my place as an outsider. I was met with less dismissiveness, less defensiveness. I started to doubt my own knowledge about my own history, dismissing myself as having been too emotional to talk about antisemitism and Israel. But that wasn’t the reality.
Outgrowing the comfort zone
In 2015, I began to confront my discomfort around advocating for issues impacting the Jewish people. Both here and abroad, including Israel’s right to exist. I can feel the outrage and anger every time I type the word Israel. And during a gut-wrenching war, I’m not surprised because that tension exists with striking regularity. You may or may not recall, 2015 experienced its share of Israel/Palestinian violence. But even in peaceful times, the hatred is palpable. Not as in “Israel needs a change in policy.” Not “We should sanction Israel when they take actions that warrant it.” That exists but what dominates the discourse is “F*ck Israel; it shouldn’t exist,” an insane claim we don’t apply to virtually any other democratic state. Not to mention the litmus test diaspora Jews face. We’re good Jews if we denounce Israel in its entirety. Otherwise, the hatred we experience is “anti-Israel, not antisemitic” even though the hostility thrown at us happens when Israel isn’t even mentioned. I cannot count the amount of times I’ve seen posts from friends and family that say something like “Wishing everyone a Happy Hanukkah!” that are met with comments like “Free Palestine!” or “COLONIZERS!” It literally is giving me a stomach ache right now, as I type this. But we’re here. Let’s keep going.
I feel like this next section is going to become like a disclaimer on an ad for a new medication.
To be clear, my support for Israel’s existence does not mean I automatically cosign whatever its government does. Informed criticism of Israeli policy/actions is welcome. I engage in it often. Advocating for the destruction of Israel or claiming it doesn’t have a right to exist is antisemitic. It doesn’t mean I believe Palestinians don’t deserve their own, prosperous state. There is a way for both Israel and Palestine to exist in the ancestral homeland of both Arabs AND Jews. Middle Eastern history doesn’t start in 1948 with the foundation of the state of Israel, and I won’t ignore what came before. That isn’t a realistic path to peace.
Although I will not be sharing my extensive background and complicated views on the Middle East here, the TL;DR (too long; didn’t read) for the sake of this exercise is that I believe a two-state solution is the quickest, most effective path to peace, at least for now. I speak out against bad Israeli policy (much like I do when it comes to bad American policy). I actively take action to support Netanyahu’s more pragmatic and empathetic opposition. Netanyahu no longer supports Israel’s foundational democratic principles, and ultimately, he is dangerous. I vehemently oppose Hamas, their antisemitic charter, and the way they rule the Palestinian people. I support the right of both peoples to have safe, secure states in their ancestral homelands. It’s a seemingly impossible goal, but we can take actions that help and can avoid actions that hinder – more on those actions later.
If we consistently debated and discussed serious issues in good faith, it wouldn’t be necessary to add disclaimers in bold. It wouldn’t have taken me so long to write this. Imagine the progress we could make if we didn’t start from a defensive, antagonistic position. But in today’s information overload world, where rage-inducing clickbait rises to the top, good faith discussion simply isn’t our default setting. We have to be intentional about how we engage with information and with others. It requires self-awareness, humility, and impulse control – not the easiest traits to develop in our digital-first, polarizing, reactionary hellscape world.
Where do we even begin? More on that later.
On October 7, I broke down
I got physically ill. Not just once. The attack and my body’s response to it triggered a relapse of a chronic condition I have. And I know I’m fortunate. I’ve experienced no personal violence. I have a strong network of friends and family. I’m lucky. But the terror and tragedy Israelis were experiencing as Hamas brutally attacked, murdered, raped, and tortured civilians – it was a living nightmare. I worried about my friends. I worried about innocent lives lost. I worried about how the country could recover, if they could rescue the hostages, and how the government would respond. Before October 8 even hit, I knew what was coming. I knew that sympathy for what had been the most deadly attack on Jews since the Holocaust would evaporate within days, if not hours. And public perception shifted as expected. Although Israel has not occupied Gaza since 2005, it quickly became the target of blame for the attack itself – before the response had even begun. And that anger quickly spread to Jews across the world. It isn’t the first time it’s happened, but the shift was palpable.
For months, I’ve tried to keep my conversations about this war to only a few trusted friends. But I handle hard times with words so I started writing about it. A small status update here and there, adding some context and some ideas about how people can help. As expected, outside of my close circle, it was met with defensiveness and dismissiveness. It devolved as people began talking past one another, using the same words but with vastly different meanings behind them. I took pause when people I’d otherwise describe as good and caring began to use a positive term I’d grown up with as a dangerous dog whistle.
You keep using that word
Zionist. You may or may not be familiar with Zionism and its history, but it’s almost impossible to avoid seeing it used in a derogatory manner. Most frequently, it’s directed at anyone who publicly supports Israel’s right to exist, but it’s also used as a dog whistle for Jews in general. White supremacists use it in this way, supporting their efforts to dehumanize Jews. These efforts have been dishearteningly successful, particularly among Pro-Palestine activists and on American college campuses.
Here’s the thing. I still don’t understand how anti-Israel activists define “Zionist.” I grew up with Zionism, and the movement I know is nothing like the way activists use the term and delegitimize Israel’s existence. It seems like people think it means some sort of Jewish supremacy that gives Israel carte blanche to attack or imprison others without any cause. Or that non-Jewish citizens of Israel aren’t privy to the same rights as Jewish citizens. It’s hard for me to wrap my head around these ideas. Neither of these definitions are rooted in truth, and the majority of Zionists or Jews would never define it this way. Nor would reputable Jewish organizations – or the dictionary.
The Oxford English dictionary defines it as “a movement for (originally) the re-establishment and (now) the development and protection of a Jewish nation in what is now Israel.” The majority of Jews and Jewish organizations define Zionism as “the movement for the self-determination and statehood for the Jewish people in their ancestral homeland, the land of Israel.” And just for fun, here’s a thorough and measured article about Jewish self-determination, the issue as a matter of international law, and how Palestinian and Israeli self-determination don’t need to come at the expense of one another.
With these long-established definitions, why are well-meaning activists weaponizing Zionism? We’re so mindful that movements like “Black Lives Matter” are an “also” not an “only.” Zionism is not an “only.” But as soon as the word is mentioned, people hit their corners, and it quickly devolves into a competition around who experiences the most oppression. Is it a matter of semantics? Could this issue be solved if we were defining terms the same way? Certainly not solved, but we would definitely have a better starting point to discuss progress. It’s frightening. Zionism is about the Jewish connection to the land of Israel. It isn’t about eliminating others from the region. And with the historical ethnic cleansing of Jews in the Middle East (See Figure 1), it’s no wonder we’re worried. And confused.
No one is claiming Israel is without flaws. The government has done bad things. The people have elected bad leaders. The politicians have acted recklessly. It’s not antisemitic to call Israel out when its leaders violate trust and take irresponsible action. It is, however, antisemitic to deny the indigeneity of the Jewish people to the land of Israel. It is antisemitic to hold all Jews accountable for Israeli policy. It is antisemitic to deny Israel’s right to self-determination. It is antisemitic to tell Jews what is and is not anti-Jewish. And it’s antisemitic to pervert the definition of Zionism to justify anti-Israel and anti-Jewish actions.
Figure 1: Jewish population decline across Muslim nations since 1948.
The interpretation and use of "Zionism" have evolved and, in some instances, been twisted by various groups. Extremists on both sides of the political spectrum, as well as well-meaning individuals within progressive circles, have exploited the term. In some cases, criticism of Israeli government policies has been conflated with Zionism as a whole, leading to accusations where legitimate political critique crosses into antisemitic territory. This conflation can exacerbate antisemitism, as it often fails to distinguish between the actions of a state and the cultural and historical identity of a people.
This misuse of "Zionism" has been co-opted by white supremacist groups, who employ anti-Zionist rhetoric to mask or feed broader anti-Jewish sentiments. Such groups aim to exploit divisions and foster hatred, using the complexities of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict to further their own agenda of bigotry and racism.
Among progressive Jews, there is a growing sense of isolation as the nuanced and diverse perspectives within Jewish communities regarding Israel and Zionism are often overlooked or simplified in broader social and political discourse. This oversimplification can alienate those who hold both progressive values and a Zionist identity, feeling misrepresented by both sides of the debate.
This distortion of "Zionism" not only fuels anti-Jewish sentiment; it does little to advance the cause of Palestinian people. Simplifying the complex Israeli-Palestinian conflict into black-and-white narratives overlooks the nuances of the situation and the legitimate aspirations and grievances of all parties involved. For a just and lasting peace, it is crucial to engage with the issue in all its complexity, recognizing the humanity and rights of both Israelis and Palestinians.
Are Jews white?
Yes or no? This should be an easy question to answer, right? Do some Jews have white skin? Yes. I’m one of them. It’s undeniably that I benefit from having white skin. But white Jews are still othered. When it comes down to it, European Jewish immigrants have assimilated well, but it does not save us from discrimination, hate, or marginalization. I don’t know if anyone noticed, but most of the Jews murdered in the Holocaust had white skin.
Still, European Jews are not the totality of the Jewish people. Mizrahi Jews are non-European Jews who remained in the land of Israel, the Middle East, and northern Africa from biblical times to present day. Jews of color, a term primarily used in North America, also exist and are racially non-white Jews. So no, not all Jews have white skin. But the broad generalization that we are all the same ethnically feeds into misrepresentations of Jews overall.
The truth is it’s complicated. Judaism is a religion, but Jews are also a people. Journalist Yair Rosenberg describes the challenge of defining what being Jewish is because it “doesn’t fit into the usual boxes.” In this 2022 article, he states:
“Jewish identity doesn’t conform to Western categories, despite centuries of attempts by society to shoehorn it in. This makes sense, because Judaism predates Western categories. It’s not quite a religion, because one can be Jewish regardless of observance or specific belief. (Einstein, for example, was proudly Jewish but not religiously observant.) But it’s also not quite a race, because people can convert in! It’s not merely a culture or an ethnicity, because that leaves out all the religious components. And it’s not simply a nationality, because although Jews do have a homeland and many identify as part of a nation, others do not.
Instead, Judaism is an amalgam of all these things—more like a family (into which one can be adopted) than a sectarian Western faith tradition—and so there’s no great way to classify it in English. A lot of confusion results from attempts to reduce this complexity to something more palatable for contemporary conceptions.”
There have literally been books written about whether we are white or not. And when I participated in the 2017 Black-Jewish Alliance workshop, this question came up. I’ll tell you what I told the participants. It doesn’t matter if I identify as white or not. Because non-Jews constantly tell me what I am. It’s situational, and it’s often exploitative. There’s no denying that when it comes to interactions with law enforcement, my white skin benefits me. I would never say otherwise. But I’m also not Christian, and therefore, I’m not like “normal white people.” This is literally something that people have said to me, and I am not alone. We often joke we’re too white for the left and not white enough for the right. It’s a generalization, sure, but the war in Gaza/Israel has reinforced its legitimacy. It’s why I’ve included this section. Defining Jews as white colonizers erases our history. It feeds into the caricatures of what a Jewish person is which has been and continues to be used to demonize and vilify us.
How does it feel? Like Jews don’t deserve the same rights and protection as other minority groups. I highly recommend reading British comedian David Baddiel’s book, Jews Don’t Count. It’s a short, accessible read that sheds light on this issue. Overall, he drives home the reality that bigotry against Jews is the one issue the left and right seem to agree on.
Where do we even begin?
Incrementally. Sustainable changes don’t happen overnight. For me, it all started when my desire to make progress outweighed my interest in staying comfortable. It won’t be the same for everyone. Let’s start with one simple truth: Jews and Palestinians are cousins who are native and indigenous to the land of Israel. Now, let’s consider some steps we can all take to move in a positive direction.
Embrace examination: Block off time to self-reflect. Write down your thoughts and look for patterns and triggers. Seek honest feedback – keeping defensiveness in check – from trusted friends and family. Read reputable opposing viewpoints with an open mind, and avoid emotionally charged news and commentary.
Identify the unknown: True experts on the history of the land of Israel are few and far between. Most online conversations cherry-pick details in order to persuade, not inform. Coupled with the outrage machine of online and social media, it’s a recipe for stoking fires and exacerbating conflict. Familiarize yourself not only with a variety of reputable sources but with the impact digital media has on the brain and behavior. Understanding these mechanisms will help avoid common traps that derail productive dialogue and action. Become intentional about the content you consume, comment on, and share.
Navigate the minefield with caution: There are successful disinformation campaigns that traffic in antisemitic and Islamophobic tropes. Even if bad actors weren’t exploiting the complexities, it’s difficult to wrap your head around all the relevant information. But it’s irresponsible to attack one side while operating from ignorance. Competing in the Oppression Olympics is lazy, lacks critical thinking, and undermines the work serious activists do to make meaningful progress.
Reflect before reacting: Impulse control – or lack thereof – contributes to the online outrage that widens the divide between activists, who ultimately, want peaceful resolution for innocent people. Pause before responding to something that triggers an emotional response. Become intentional about the content you consume, comment on, and share.
Engage in good faith: Acknowledge your biases – we all have some. Listen actively. Use empathetic language. Take a proactive and genuine approach to learning and asking questions. Pro Tip: Questions don’t always need to be asked on a public forum. We will see more productive conversations between smaller groups and one-on-one. Replace defensiveness with vulnerability and look for common ground. The people on the front lines can’t afford a rigid commitment to ideological purity.
Great! Do you feel empowered to solve the Israel/Palestine conflict now? Of course not. What problem has ever been solved by the interaction with a comment section? But conflicts are solved by people, and the role we can all play starts with lessening the divide and keeping our end goal in mind – without dehumanizing the groups involved. And hey, if these tactics are too taxing, there’s nothing wrong with removing yourself from discussing an issue when you don’t have the right frame of mind; lack the time to do the work; or can’t commit to operating with respect and an open mind.
What can we do to help?
Are you still with me? We’ve covered a lot, and yet, as promised, this won’t really help you better understand the Israel/Palestine conflict. Any article that claims they can do that has an overinflated sense of expertise. I’ve studied, read books, spoken with experts, confronted my own biases, sought out Palestinian and Israeli experiences, discussed in groups and one-on-one – I still wouldn’t feel comfortable calling myself an expert. But if we wait until the population is better educated on the conflict before we will help innocent Israelis and Palestinians, we’ll be waiting forever.
In the interest of alleviating suffering and humans supporting humans, here are some things you can do now. And I guarantee, any one of these actions will do more good than arguing online, no matter how sure you are that you’re right. Full disclosure: Most of these involve giving money because ultimately, empowering the people who are in a position to tangibly help is going to do more and well, requires donations.
Alliance for Middle East Peace (ALLMEP): “ALLMEP is a coalition of over 160 organizations—and hundreds of thousands of Palestinians and Israelis—building cooperation, justice, equality, shared society, mutual understanding, and peace among their communities.” Do you want long-term peace between Israelis and Palestinians? Start here. Peacebuilding programs work and are critical to diffuse tensions and reverse counterproductive attitudes that sabotage forward movement. Learn about their diverse initiatives here and check out their public resources around how to help and engage during active conflict here.
Road to Recovery: This is an Israeli Association of volunteers who drive Palestinian patients from checkpoints in the West Bank and Gaza for life-saving treatments in Israeli hospitals.
Save the Children: There’s no denying the children in Gaza are suffering for actions outside of their control. I see endless calls for a ceasefire (while Jews call for the release of hostages to be part of the ceasefire negotiations) , but the reality is Hamas continues to reject ceasefire proposals. This is war, and it’s ugly. Supporting organizations that can get humanitarian aid to the people in need are critical. And since the Gaza Health Ministry is Hamas, it’s challenging to ensure the aid doesn’t get diverted away from the victims.
Hand in Hand: An integrated social education program that brings together Jews and Arabs in Israel. This organization promotes peaceful coexistence through education, outreach, and community building across the country.
Project Shema: Antisemitism has been surging in our communities and across college campuses for years. It has exploded since October 7. Project Shema is an organization built by progressive Jews, focused on having productive conversations about modern antisemitism and Israel/Palestine. Allyship is an important part of Judaism, but it’s also an important need for Jewish people. We all need strong allies, and Project Shema takes a direct approach to depolarizing these complex conversations.
Contact your representatives: Reach out to your representatives to advocate for a peaceful resolution benefiting both Israel and Gaza. A ceasefire agreement will be contingent on the safe return of hostages. Let’s not forget there was a ceasefire on October 6. On October 7, Hamas violated it. Neighboring countries must also provide support to help get aid to vulnerable populations, and we must encourage our representatives to apply pressure for a holistic response.
Friends of Roots: Roots was founded by a “unique network of local Palestinians and Israelis who have come to see each other as the partners we both need to make changes to end our conflict.” They provide support to people after acts of violence. They also build communities of Israelis and Palestinians through summer camps, after school programs, interreligious exchange events, and more.
Support opposition of extremists: While non-citizens cannot vote in Israel and no real elections take place in Gaza, we can support leaders who prioritize diplomacy and human rights. Will peace happen under Netanyahu and Hamas? I truly cannot see how. Get to know Yair Lapid, Leader of the Opposition in Israel. As for who should lead Palestinians instead of Hamas, it’s a more complicated issue. Hamas is a terrorist organization, and they don’t hold democratic elections. Regional leaders do have thoughts, but ultimately, we can work to support new leadership that will support peaceful coexistence.
Check on your Arab, Israeli, Muslim, and Jewish friends: We are not okay. None of us. We are carrying on because what choice do we have? But we are not okay. This may sound like a selfish recommendation, but our friends, our families, our brothers and sisters are dying, and the hatred and anger has rippled from the heart of the war and is impacting us in ways we could not foresee. Help your community and maybe your community’s ability to help others will grow.
Tip of the iceberg
This 5,000+ word article doesn’t even scratch the surface of the Israel/Palestine conflict. This should come as no surprise. I told you it wouldn’t. It doesn’t capture all I want to say, but it’s all I will say for now. There are things we can all do to help, but vitriol seems to be the tactic that spreads the fastest. If we can gain control of our reactions, we can better direct our energy towards things that help. And if you’re here, still reading this, I have to assume that like me, it’s what you want. So in the name of positive outcomes over outrage, let’s lead by example and gently keep one another on the right track.