This was a tragic week for the Jewish community. I’m in Minneapolis, but we are always one, maybe two, degrees of separation away from each other as Jews. We are a family—no matter the city, specific denomination, and so on. And although the friendship topic I’m highlighting this week is about disappointing our friends and learning to be okay with that, I’m happy to report that I’ve felt the opposite of disappointment in relation to the tragedy in Pittsburgh.
While I see all too clearly the ill intentions of those who wish Jews harm, I also felt and saw overwhelming generosity and compassion from fellow Americans. It wasn’t just Jews attending all hose vigils around the country. The amount of money Muslims and others have raised to help the Tree of Life Synagogue keeps going up. What some Jewish Americans may have seen as proof that we will never be fully welcome in America, I saw as the opposite. The outpouring of kindness directed at the Jewish community in Pittsburgh and the Jewish community in general reminds me that America is the only place other than Israel I’d want to live as a Jew. Okay, sometimes Canada.
Believe me, I’m not delusional. I know we are the targets of a “special” kind of hate that comes from every direction. One of the best articles I’ve read lately on the current state of anti-Semitism in America touches on the hate towards Jews—the obsession with Jews, really—that comes from the far Right and the far Left. Aren’t we a lucky bunch to garner so much attention? It’s an excellent essay by Alana Newhouse that you can read in Tablet Magazine—-> “American Yahrzeit.”
STILL, in a tragedy there are often moments of kindness if you look for them. We didn’t have to look too hard this week. I was particularly touched by a phone call from a non-Jewish woman on my block who wanted to say she was so sorry. (I live in an area with few Jews.)
“For what?” I almost said, but didn’t, thank goodness. It took me a moment, but then I realized she meant for the murders the previous day at the Tree of Life Synagogue. We’d never spoken other than an occasional wave on a walk. I thought she might be calling about my kids making too much noise in the backyard, which was why I picked up the phone when I saw her name on the caller ID. It’s so rare to get a call on the home line from anyone other than a candidate or a telemarketer. She looked up our number and took the time to pick up the phone—which alone is a feat these days.
“I’m sorry your kids have to be scared of something like that,” she said.
Not only was I touched by her call and the many other stories I’ve heard from friends receiving similar calls, texts, and emails from their non-Jewish colleagues, neighbors, and friends. But I was also forced to ask myself if I would do (or have done) the same in the face of someone else’s tragedy. Sure, I’ve shared supportive social media posts, but have I picked up the phone to connect with an individual person? No, I have not. But I will. Next time I will do better. Sadly, I will have opportunities to do so. I wish I could feel more optimistic about that.
And now I have to transition to tell you about my friendship column for the month, because that’s what we do. We keep living life and there’s no shame in that as long as we are also doing what we can to help. We can always do more to help everyone feel more welcome and loved in this country. I know I certainly can do more to rise to the occasion.
October’s friendship question was a challenging one to answer even though it seems simple on the first read. It touched on whether a friend can/should intervene when two common friends are not getting along. I also talked about being okay with others’ disappointment in us, and how others’ disappointment (in this case not inviting one of the friend’s young kids to a bar mitzvah party) does not necessarily mean we did the wrong thing. We can’t please everyone, nor can most of us have 300 people at our parties. I struggled with my answer, so was thrilled to get help from my own excellent advisors: Taryn Kutchin, Rebecca Kotok, and my mom.
Thanks for reading if you got this far. I’m wishing everyone a safe, peaceful week.
photo by Mark Strobl via Flickr
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4 Responses
I’m so glad you highlighted the kindness and solidarity that can come from a national tragedy. So many words of pain and anguish have been written. I wanted to write my own but felt paralyzed, and still do. Console the mourners, fight hate, move forward and choose life. May you go from strength to strength.
I read this in your newsletter early this morning, and it has stuck with me all day. Your words are wise and thoughtful, and I appreciate that you touch on the goodness of people in the face of tragedy.
I love how your neighbor reached out. What a selfless act. And now you will pay that forward, and in down the line. Life as it should be. Amen!
Wow, that story about your neighbor’s phone call has inspired me, too. Those small acts can have powerful ripping effects.