Summary

The article reflects on the cognitive dissonance experienced by individuals leading ordinary lives amidst the backdrop of the Ukraine conflict, emphasizing the struggle to reconcile daily routines with the harsh realities faced by those in war zones.

Abstract

The author begins the piece with a personal anecdote, contrasting their morning routine of making coffee and cinnamon rolls with the ongoing conflict in Ukraine where families are sheltering from bombings. This juxtaposition sets the stage for an exploration of the dissonance between the comfort and safety of the author's life and the violence and uncertainty in Ukraine. The article delves into the complexity of why the conflict garners attention, touching on factors such as race, the threat of global escalation, and historical Cold War narratives. It acknowledges the privilege of being able to focus on mundane tasks while also feeling the weight of global events. The author discusses the importance of not looking away from the suffering, advocating for continued awareness and action within one's capacity, including political engagement and empathy for those affected. The piece concludes with a recommendation to read the works of Ukrainian poet Ilya Kaminsky, suggesting that his poetry offers a deeper understanding of the human experience during times of conflict.

Opinions

The author believes that the attention given to the conflict in Ukraine is influenced by the country's racial demographics, its relevance to the Cold War narrative, and the potential global threat it poses, particularly to the U.S.
There is a sense of guilt and helplessness in the face of the suffering of others, coupled with an awareness of the privilege to continue with daily life.
The article suggests that while individuals cannot single-handedly stop the conflict, they can engage in meaningful actions such as advocating for policy changes and maintaining awareness.
The author emphasizes the importance of acknowledging the pain and evil in the world, rather than ignoring or minimizing it.
Reading poetry by Ilya Kaminsky is proposed as a way to connect with the human side of the conflict and to gain insight into the experiences of those living through war.

Ukraine Is On Fire And I’m Sipping Coffee

Acknowledging our shared cognitive dissonance

This morning, before I rolled out of bed, I posted on my Facebook page:

The sun is about to come up & I’ll go drink my coffee, bake cinnamon rolls for the birthday sleepover… I can already hear the girls’ footsteps running down the stairs to start the day…meanwhile Ukraine is on fire and parents woke up underground and there is no coffee or cinnamon rolls… and what do they say to their kids? Today we will try not to die??

By the time I had my coffee in hand, a good friend had texted:

I saw your FB post… it is insane, just like during this pandemic, where we can reflect on dual realities and such dissonance can really be unnerving. I am thinking though–are we paying more attention to this because these countries are white and the consequences of Russia expanding are more of a direct threat to the U.S. Also no masks indoors.

My friend raises really important questions.

This is 2022. We question our intentions and biases.

This is 2022. Many of us have been navigating dissonance since the 2016 election. Our hearts are worn out.

And, hot damn, those subways look like a den of germs!

But we don’t get the privilege of not caring.

How do we write or think about anything else?

Actually, I don’t seem to have a problem with that. Our ducks need more straw, the kids have been eating a hole in the refrigerator, I’m writing these self-absorbed pieces on Medium, and I had to take our garbage to the dump. Oh yeah, somebody in our house had her first birthday slumber party.

The lives in front of us scream for our attention as the broader world falls to pieces.

I texted my friend back. It wasn’t yet 8 am…

So many thoughts on this… we care because of oil and because it’s part of this longer Cold War narrative that we’re a part of, and yes, because they’re white. We also care because we could be sleepily watching the beginnings of WWWIII.

What I didn’t say to my friend, but I wish I had: and we care because these are our fellow humans and there is nothing we can do. Oh, I know we can make calls, raise our voices, comfort each other — but we, as individuals, cannot disrupt the trauma those families are experiencing. We cannot save the lives of the mothers and fathers or children.

The most radical thing we can do is not look away.

That doesn’t mean saturating ourselves in our news feed or minimizing the situation.

It’s not surrender, but it is admitting to the immense pain and evil we are witnessing.

It’s acknowledging we are all experiencing a kind of cognitive dissonance and a related helplessness.

It’s saying prayers for people we don’t know.

It’s demanding we break away from oil dependency and exerting pressure on our politicians to do the right thing. (Although “right thing” is wildly complicated right now.)

There is a poet I deeply admire, Ilya Kaminsky, who was born in Ukraine. I’ve been thinking about his poetry collections, Dancing in Odessa and Deaf Republic.

If you followed me this far, you need to read his poems.

So here are a couple….

Author's Prayer by Ilya Kaminsky | Poetry Foundation

If I speak for the dead, I must leave

www.poetryfoundation.org

Ukraine Is On Fire And I’m Sipping Coffee

Acknowledging our shared cognitive dissonance

Author's Prayer by Ilya Kaminsky | Poetry Foundation

If I speak for the dead, I must leave

We Lived Happily During the War by Ilya Kaminsky | Poetry Foundation

And when they bombed other people's houses, we but not enough, we opposed them but not in my bed, around my bed America…