Can You Imagine?

Can you imagine?

News of your loved ones missing traveling across the globe.

Over two hundred of them.

Missing.

Women.

Children.

Infants.

Babies. 

BABIES.

Grandmothers.

Grandfathers.

Can you imagine?

As the news travels people ask more questions.

And more.

And more.

What happened?

What do you mean they're missing?

We don't believe that.

What women?

What children?

What babies?

Can you imagine?

It's propaganda! 

They shout.

Cursing as they tear down the photos our people have worked so painstakingly hard to share.

There were no babies!

They scream.

As they take knives and scissors to the tape. To the photos. To scratch out their faces.

Can you imagine?

Professors.

Students.

Americans.

Immigrants.

Shouting. Screaming. Calling for the end of you, your missing loved ones, and anyone like you.

Can you imagine?

Walking down a city street and being told by someone to 'go back to your country' when you were born here and they were not.

When they don't want you to have an actual country.

When they believe the land that you identify as your homeland should be wiped clean of people like you.

Just as was done on October 7th.

To thousands of people.

Women. Men.

Children. Infants. Babies.

Grandmothers. Grandfathers.

Israelis. Americans. 

On their homeland. Or just visiting.

Lives cut down in an instant.

Can you imagine?

And those who remain missing.

All held captive.

Over one month since they were taken.

It's propaganda! 

They shout.

As they call.

For the extermination.

Of all Jewish people.

Can you imagine?

I never thought I could.

But now.

I can.

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What It's Like.

I am almost 51 years old.

I have watched as antisemitic sentiments and hate crimes have risen across America in recent years.

Not that they ever went away.

But the freedom that evil has experienced has been powerful. Fierce. Deadly.

I am almost 51 years old.

I was born in Brooklyn, NY. 

A place I never felt myself to be a major minority. 

A place I called home for much of my life.

A place that felt safe.

I am almost 51 years old.

And as I watch as the hatred against Jewish people grows and thrives?

I'm afraid.

As I hear the chants shouted at so-called peaceful protests?

I'm afraid.

Have you heard them?

Have you seen?

Have you been listening?

Watching?

Can you imagine?

I am almost 51 years old.

And before now I had never seen such death and carnage on my people in my lifetime. 

I had always heard, never forget and never again.

I never thought I would have to FEEL it. 

Your Jewish friends are afraid.

Your Jewish friends feel alone.

Your Jewish friends are watching. Waiting. Listening.

We hear the echo of our own voices.

We see the lack of condemning posts about Hamas and their actions.

We see you sharing your every day lives.

We comment, like, love, care.

And also ...

We wonder.

We question.

We try to breathe.

We question some more.

I am almost 51 years old.

And I never thought in my lifetime I would see this. Live this. Worry so. 

But here I am.

Living. Worrying. Breathing.

Questioning.

And that, my friends. 

That is what it's like.

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Breathe.

Breathe.

But I ---

Breathe.

How can I? 

Breathe.

What about - ?

Breathe.

I can't.

You can.

Slowly.

Gently.

No deep breaths.

Just. Gently. Breathe.

Gently?

Yes.

No deep breaths?

Yes.

Deep breaths are not necessary.

Breathe?

Yes.

Inhale.

Softly.

Exhale.

Gently.

Breathe?

Breathe.

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Laughter

Eyes crinkle.

Tears shine.

Cheeks swell.

Hearty chuckles.

Throaty laughs.

Happiness comes.

Goes.

Ebbs.

Flows.

But laughter.

Somehow.

Remains.

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Where Can We Go?

It's the guns.

A shopping mall.

It's the guns.

Kids playing hide and seek.

It's the guns.

Ringing the wrong doorbell.

It's the guns.

Turning around in someone's driveway.

And again. 

One neighbor asking another to consider their sleeping baby.

Still.

Playing basketball in our own yard.

Yet again.

Accidentally opening the door to a car that isn't ours.

Every.

The grocery store.

Single.

Our schools.

Time.

Churches. Synagogues. Mosques.

It's the guns.

Where can we go?

Is anywhere safe?

What's the possibility of someone we love not returning home?

How can we do anything anymore while living in this fear our elected officials do nothing about? 

The heart breaks. 

But anger prevails. 

Vote them out.

We. Must.

Vote them out. 

Because it's the guns.

Always. The. Guns. 

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