I usually read the first few posts on my social media platforms each morning. I get a quick sense of what’s happening based on the posts I see when I open the apps. Then I start scanning for words or images that catch my attention, rather than focusing on each individual post. I continue for a moment or two just to see if anything jumps out at me.
It was during the scanning phase the other day when I saw a tweet that made me stop. I wish I could say it was a quick anecdote of parenting humor or a hilarious meme. I usually find one or two of those each morning that make me laugh and put me in a better mood.
But yesterday was not that day.
The tweet brought up emotions that I hadn’t realized were simmering underneath my surface. It forced me to come back to the realities I can usually ignore while I’m focused on work or parenting. It reminded me that the world outside my apartment is not nearly as forgiving for most people who don’t look like me or live where I do.
Here was the tweet:
So many of us haven’t taken the time to truly cope with all of the death around us.
— Frederick Joseph (@FredTJoseph) April 7, 2021
My first reaction was to think of the recent shootings in Boulder, Atlanta, and South Carolina. I thought of the victims and their families and the terrible circumstances they suddenly faced. I thought of the laws that enabled the shooters to obtain their firearms and the political debates that sound more like white noise with every additional incident.
Then I thought of the people who passed away after contracting COVID-19. I imagined the people who died in the first months after the virus’ arrival in the United States last spring. I thought of the parent in my synagogue community who had given me some of the best compliments I’d ever received; the anniversary of his death just passed a few days ago. I thought of my friend’s father who fought – and ultimately lost – his most difficult battle a few weeks ago.
And, of course, I thought of my grandfather, who died in July.
Finally, my thoughts came to rest on Yom HaShoah – Holocaust Remembrance Day – which was yesterday. Yom HaShoah commemorates the murder of six million Jews that began almost ninety years ago in Nazi Germany. It is a solemn day when we do our best to remember the people victimized by the Nazis, while also preventing such atrocities from ever happening again.
My religious school students and I led a Yom HaShoah program for other students and their families earlier this week. It has become an annual tradition for us to do so, since I teach the Facing History curriculum to that class. The students researched individuals who lived during the Holocaust who had the same first names. They read summaries of the individuals’ lives and noted the similarities with their own experiences as pre-teens living today.
But, as meaningful and impressive as the ceremony was, that tweet forced me to stop in my mental tracks. It hadn’t occurred to me before just how much the concept of death has infiltrated our daily lives. The idea has always been present as part of the biological life cycle. But it has somehow begun to feel more… aggressive. There is nothing natural, for instance, about multiple lives – especially children’s lives – ending in a supermarket, a nail salon or a grandparent’s home. At the very least, there is nothing natural about the manner in which those lives ended.
Death is no longer just a next step in the logical progression of a person’s life. It has become a weapon, often wielded by people too blinded by their own narrow-minded convictions. And I refuse to believe that the people using that weapon have enough respect for it to truly understand the implications of their actions.
That is where I return to Yom HaShoah. We recite the phrase, “Never again,” repeatedly throughout the services on Yom HaShoah. We commit to eradicating all forms of anti-Semitism and hatred so that we can create a safer world for our people. And we pledge to become upstanders, to call out and protest injustices whenever we see them.
The process of banding together against hate is long and difficult. It is fraught with challenges, some of which have more to do with our connections to each other than our collective response to adversity. But, as long as we can continue to recognize our responsibilities to each other, we can continue to improve the world around us.
Never forget; and never again.
