Letter To a Mother In Gaza
An apology for our species . . .
Dear Palestinian Mother:
It’s a hell of a world we’ve been born into, isn’t it? Your life has probably been one of suffering and pain since you were a child, mine has been one of privilege but not without pain. None of us gets out of here without some bruises at the very least, even if that might be hard for you to believe.
At this moment in history, though, I feel a strong connection with you, from my heart, as I felt the connection to the Israeli mother who held her lifeless child on that Saturday in early October. Easier for me to feel the connection with the Israeli mother because I identify more with being Jewish and I have a step-daughter in Israel. However, I believe that you too were suffering then, knowing that another mother was experiencing every mother’s nightmare: holding her lifeless child in her arms. Our connections as mothers transcends every border, every political group, every nationality. We don’t recognize borders when it comes to our children’s lives. We don’t recognize race, or nationality, or things that divide us when it comes to our children. All babies are our babies. All children are our children.
Every child represents hope. I am sure that when you had your children, each one of them, your hope was for a more peaceful world, a world in which these precious creatures could play in safe streets, have enough to eat, be warm in cold winters. I’m sure that you were not thinking that it would be a good thing to give birth to a tiny, pure and innocent being so that he, or she, could grow up, learn about automatic weapons and missiles and hate. I’m sure that you were not thinking that your child would be happy to live a life of conflict, anger and death. I’m sure that you were not thinking that it would be a good thing to raise a child only to be killed in a terrorist attack or war.
As you face each day not knowing if you or your children will survive until the next, with each explosion and sound of gunfire feeling helpless fear, knowing that you cannot give your children the sense of safety they need, that you need — thinking that the world has forsaken you, hates you even because some will identify you as connected to the terrorists that committed the atrocities in Israel — I wish there were some way to let you know that you are not hated by everyone, that there is compassion and caring for you from all corners of the world. There are those of us who wish you and your children good health, prosperity and peace even while knowing that these wishes are futile and even while our compassion and love goes to those Israeli mothers who will grieve for the rest of their days for their dead children.
I have a dream. These words were spoken by a great American, Martin Luther King, and I share his dream. But I have my own dream as well. One that I despair will ever come to be. It would be a world without borders. Some will say: “But what about differences we want to keep? Languages, history, cuisine, culture?” These desired aspects could all be kept, but that’s a different matter that I’ll write about at a different time.
Imagine a country as a kindergarten kid, gathering up his toys and keeping them to himself. (We will imagine that this kid is a boy for expediency.) Will he share? Maybe. Maybe not. But he makes it clear that they are his toys. What if another kid wants to play with some of his toys? What if the other kid comes over and shoves kid #1 and grabs one of the toys? Kid #1 shoves back. Both kids get into a scuffle, maybe hit each other; both are hurt, probably one more than the other — but neither comes out unscathed.
Our species, the human race, is at the developmental level of kindergarten kids. They are very close to the time when they became aware that they are separate from others and they are still intent on making it clear where they stop and another begins. This is a fairly immature and unevolved state of affairs, one in which we haven’t really gotten it that what is good for one kid is good for the other kid: we want what is ours and we will defend our possession of it at all costs.
Wars have always been about territory. Territory because of natural resources, perceived wealth, privilege. Some say this war has to do with differences in religion, but I believe that’s the ostensible reason, one that hides the real reason. I think that belief is a cover-up for greed and envy. We still haven’t gotten it that we are all living on the same planet. The planet has limited resources, but enough to support all of humanity if we distribute and share these resources. We’re all breathing the same air, so if the air is contaminated by smoke from bombs or toxins, it affects all of us. Water is a limited resource, and clean water cannot be hoarded by one group to the exclusion of another. We haven’t learned collaboration and are still stuck in being competitive. Not the best strategy for world peace. This is not a football game.
My dream will never be realized in your lifetime nor in mine. For all I know, at 85, my lifetime may be shorter than yours at this point. Nevertheless, I dream my dream for my children and grandchildren. I dream it for your children.
And I dream it for the children of all mothers everywhere who are suffering together trying to protect their children.
