Are You Here To Hurt? Or To Heal?

Repairing our broken shards in a world at war across our screens

Genocide doesn’t work. I am living proof that a people will persevere.

The Holocaust cleaved off entire limbs of my family tree. I’ve lost love that I never knew I could have had; that is, until I grew to see for myself the bounty of family other trees of other peoples have. My Jewish tree of life blooms broken, but nevertheless it has persisted. Truly, I don’t know what I’ve been missing but I do know the scars I’ve inherited. I have seen the emotional wounds of passed-on trauma fester in family members who couldn’t know how to not give their anger, their fear, their shame, the echoes of their violence remembered…to me. This has been my inheritance and my only choice in it has been whether to allow my pain to be seen.

Genocide doesn’t work, but we all inherit the world it leaves us in.

When I see people grieving for Israel, I know it’s the shadows of our Holocaust creeping out from the back of our minds with the ferocity of millions of reawakened traumas screaming again before our eyes. For many of us, it is all we see. Death darkens our thoughts. Pain colors our words. We see red because the dark memories kept in our blood have returned. A fear arises that our genocide has only been deferred. This is the Jewish context.

When I see people grieving for Palestine, I see humanity enduring the patterns of genocide being wrought again. From the vantage point of my Jewishness, I see more similarities than differences between us. I see family trees cleaved by the same archetypal sword swung on a different day by different hands. For the Palestinians, these horrors are happening today and the cries coming out are screaming to make the suffering stop. This, as I understand it, is the Palestinian context.

I am certain my understanding of both are incomplete. I am certain of this because I speak to you as an American. If you are reading this, odds are you are an American too. We, in America, have our contexts confused.

War is upon us, yes. But we Americans, unless personally affected, mostly endure battles in this war of a different kind than those who are directly imperiled daily by bomb, bullet, and blade. The context of the suffering is not ours to take from them. Who are we to claim another’s life-altering pain as convenience to our daily dose of rage? We live amongst the wounds of genocide, not its weapons. War is upon us, yes; but for Americans, the war takes place within our minds. Are we losing?

‘Silence is violence’ has once again become social media’s refrain amongst a dissonant torrent of so many loudly spoken hurtful things. It’s a phrase that has populated the battlefield of our feeds many times before when different people have cried out over different pain, different purpose, to proclaim their context. Our time’s drumbeat of horrors has such a diversity that it feels like folly for me to even attempt to list out them all, for fear that I might make the mistake of exclusion. That fear comes from the confusing overwhelm of context collision…and the wrath of its consequences for not fully understanding all of it. If silence is violence, so is derision.

So what to do? For my part, I send donations to those I trust can make a positive difference in the places where suffering is most pronounced. Then, I listen long before I speak knowing that my place in the war is to sort through the confusion of my missing context and not add to its violence of silence or derision. I don’t have a gun in my hands like my grandfather did or a med-kit like some I know in Israel do. I have a keyboard. I have a phone. What do you have in yours?

There are many ways to hurt. There is one way to heal. Reconciliation. Re-pairing what is broken. Reconciliation is literally defined as “the action of making one view or belief compatible with another”. Nowhere in that definition is there mention of determining which belief is right versus wrong. This is the lofty goal pointed toward by the genius of Nelson Mandela and Desmond Tutu and all around them who built the Truth and Reconciliation Commission to help heal South Africa from the violence of its apartheid. Who among us has the courage to see through today’s overwhelming challenges into the vision such hearts have dreamed?

We have a belief in Judaism that has persevered through the many attempts at our genocide. It is called tikkun olam. It translates to ‘repairing the world’. It is founded from the deep mystical belief that when our world was created, the light of creation shattered against the chaos. The shards of that broken light scattered everywhere. It is the sacred mission of the Jewish people to find these shards of light and bring them back together again so the world can reconcile and become whole. Is not another people’s context where they keep their purpose and their pain such a shard of light looking to be made whole again? Perhaps we might find each other’s light in the places our fears have made us unaccustomed to look.

Much is broken in this world we share. That, I know, is a context we all feel. To find your place in it begins first with noticing what is and is not in your hands. Before you share, comment, or post; before you step onto your battlefield in this war of broken hearts and minds, think, feel and listen. What is the context you hold? What is the context you’re missing? Can you find it?

There is no side to choose in the act of making our world whole again. There is only the reassembly of the broken pieces that reflect the illusion of our differences. Are you here to hurt? Or to heal?

Practical Steps

If you are here to heal, here are some prompts that might help as you navigate the battlefield of your screens:

Put intention above attention

Think about why you are sharing what you are sharing. What effect do you hope to have? If you are jumping into things and posting quickly, you are likely being activated by an algorithmic incentive to chase trending topics for the reward of engagement. Is speediness helping you achieve your intention? Or is it bringing you attention? Is that what people really need?Rarely is haste aligned with thoughtfulness. Good intention doesn’t need to chase attention to make an impact. Hurt happens quickly. Healing happens slowly.

Don’t pretend to be a news source when you are not

Citizen journalism happens on the front lines. Misinformation spreads outside the fog of war by those who speak, but don’t see. When breaking news from the front lines crosses your feeds, immediately sharing might feel like signal boosting, but it could actually be adding to the noise. There are other roles for you to play. Discussion and integration of events can help, but not if carried with the illusion of certainty where there is none.

Know the context you carry; seek out the context you don’t

Know what you know and accept that you don’t know everything. Diversify your media sources. Ask for help privately before posting publicly. Ask for help anonymously in places like r/ChangeMyView. Converse with someone different every day, even if only to listen. If your goal is to stay informed, know that you are always working from a state of being incomplete. As my feeds filled with flurries of hot takes, I’ve been patiently crafting this essay and asking feedback for it from trusted people with different perspectives than mine for over a week. Does that mean this essay is complete? No. Far from it, but the process of asking for help has allowed me to connect with others in vulnerability and to learn a lot — safely. This has been my foil for gathering context I’m missing.

Breathe after you listen and before you speak

Feelings are primary to facts. We tend to choose facts to support our feelings. How conscious are you of the feelings you carry and pass along with every post, comment, and share? Should those feelings be passed on? Make a practice of clearing out your nervous system often. You wash your hands, so wash your mind. Breathe in for seven seconds. Hold for seven seconds. Breathe out for seven seconds. Hold for seven seconds. Repeat three times. Notice the difference. Notice how how you breathe affects how you feel, and how how you feel affects how you think, and how how you think affects how you act, and how you act affects how you breathe.

See the best in each other; get the best in each other

People become the version of themselves that you call out with how you see and speak to them. The hurt comes from believing in people’s worst. The healing comes from believing in people’s best. You get the world you see. Violence begets violence. Peace begets peace. Whether in action or in words, your presence makes a difference — even if only to choose whether to mend another person’s heart or break it.