Stories I Tell Myself

Linda Brody Bakst on Brooklyn, growing up, identity and more

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Author | Brooklyn-born Jewish American on a search for identity & deeper meaning. Debut book “More than Matzoh Balls” out 2/15.

  • People Are Angry, or Are They?

    The other day, I came back to my car and found the following note wedged into the driver’s side window:

    Some people might scrunch up the paper and toss it away. Some people might be angry. Some people might be scared. I wanted to understand. I honestly could not figure out what this individual was upset about. I walked around my car looking to see if I was parked in the bike lane. I was not. I looked to see if I was hanging over someone’s driveway, but I was not. I checked the signage, and I was parked legally.

    It was a rainy evening when I arrived at the place I was going, I was attending a writing workshop. It was still drizzling when I left. So, there were few people out and about. There weren’t many cars parked on the street, either; there were plenty of spots available. For those who know Albany, I was on Madison Avenue in the area that formerly housed Saint Rose’s campus. Anyway, the point is, I couldn’t figure out what I had done wrong. I don’t like doing things wrong, and I don’t like it when someone is upset with me. I have probably already spent more time on this than most people would, but that is me.

    So, I came up with an explanation, but I have no idea if it is true. When I arrived, an individual was getting out of his car. I started to pull over to park. Maybe he thought I came too close to him? I certainly didn’t think so, and he showed no discernible reaction at the time.

    If the point of leaving the note was to educate me so I would become a better driver, it failed. I can console myself with the fact that at least the person signed the note with a smiley face. What was that about, after calling me an asshole?

    The point I did get from the note is that people are angry. It doesn’t take much to get someone riled up these days. While that has always been true to some extent, I believe it is worse. Is that your experience?

    In another instance, I was waiting to cross the street in Manhattan. I was at 96th and Columbus, a major, busy intersection. Not one of those smaller streets that you sometimes cross against the light. As my fellow pedestrians and I stepped off the curb because we had the green, a car ran the red light. I was startled and put my palms up and open in the universal signal of ‘what the hell?’ I didn’t yell. I didn’t give the driver the finger. I just gestured in a questioning way, what are you doing? He, it was a male driver, came to a stop, looked at me with fury and gave me a very aggressive middle finger. He may have accompanied it with a f*** you, but in the din of Manhattan, I didn’t hear it. I was taken aback. I didn’t think my reaction warranted that, plus he was in the wrong! He went through a red light!

    It all leaves me uneasy. If people are so on edge, I guess we need to walk on eggshells. You never know how close someone is to losing it (and if they are carrying a weapon). Plus, I need to grow a thicker skin. I certainly can’t take these things personally.

    I should mention there are pleasant interactions, too. At that workshop, the folks at my table were friendly. I’m sure I’ve had lots of people hold the door for me, but I don’t necessarily notice. Maybe I need to be more mindful of those gestures, and it will give me a more balanced perspective of what is going on. I probably take those ordinary kindnesses for granted.

    I know when I am in the car, I can get impatient with slow drivers or with folks who aren’t paying attention (most likely on their phone), but I try not to overreact. I remind myself that nothing is that important, I’m not in that much of a rush. Plus, I don’t want to get into some kind of road rage situation.

    Do you think the tone of our interactions has changed? Or am I giving too much weight to the angry ones?

  • Let’s Go Knicks!

    Note: First, a shout out to Gary, it is his birthday today! That means I will be celebrating Gary Bakst Day! He deserves it! Second, I know it has been a while since I posted here, but so much has been going on with my book and family life (happily all good things!). I wanted to come back with something fun. I hope you enjoy.

    Time for something lighter.

    The New York Knicks are headed to the playoffs with high hopes for a long run. For about two decades, the team had offered little to cheer about, until the last few years. I can’t say I follow them as closely as I did as a teenager. It would be impossible to do that and have a life as a functioning adult. I was obsessed in those days. I still keep an eye on them, watch an occasional game on television (I love listening to Walt ‘Clyde’ Frazier’s rhymes and seeing his outlandish suits), and root for their success. It is also an interest I share with my son, Daniel.

    Daniel and I have developed a tradition. Each year I buy us tickets to a game as his Hanukkah present. We seem to be a good-luck charm, as they have won those games. We went in January and saw a double-overtime win over the Denver Nuggets. Obviously, it was an exciting contest. More important than the game, I get to spend quality time with my son. We have entertained the idea of inviting Gary, his dad, my husband, and each time we decide, nah, this can be our special time. Besides, I’m more of a fan than Gary anyway.

    Dan and I meet for dinner beforehand. He usually picks the place – he has good taste in restaurants. This time, he suggested a small Italian one near Madison Square Garden. It turned out to be excellent. Dan insisted on treating. It is very cool to have your adult child be in the financial position to treat you to a meal in New York City. I am grateful and proud of his generosity. I also just generally enjoy his company.

    Our seats were reasonably good – about halfway up and just off midcourt. The crowd at MSG is well-behaved. There was only one idiot that I noticed. This older guy was upset that there was one Nugget fan in our midst, and he was looking for a fight. He almost got one, too. Fortunately, everyone else was level-headed and prevented fisticuffs.

    I told Dan about a time, years ago, when Gary and I went to a game. The Knicks were terrible, during the two decades they stunk. If I recall correctly, they beat the Seattle Supersonics (that’s how long ago it was – the team left Seattle in 2008, and this experience was years before that) in a close one. The thing about it, though, was that there was a man sitting next to Gary who smoked reefer throughout the entire game. He didn’t move, he didn’t cheer, he just sat there inhaling. We probably got a contact high, but it didn’t interfere with our enjoyment of the game. When it ended, the guy still sat there. I think it took a while for it to penetrate that the game was over.

    Many things have changed since then. The Knicks have dancers, and at every break in the action, there is something – a brief shooting contest for fans, t-shirts shot into the crowd, etc. God forbid there is a moment without entertainment. And after the fiasco at the Coldplay concert, I was surprised they still had a kiss cam. Yuk. I don’t mind them putting video of fans up on the big screen if they are dancing, waving, smiling, or whatever – but forcing a kiss? Really? Enough of that.

    I guess I’m just too old or uptight for that kind of thing. Another piece of evidence that I am old is that when they show the celebrity row, I rarely know who they are! Who are these people? They are generally actors or performers of some sort; I only know that after googling them. And that’s despite the fact that I read some of the gossip pages. I do recognize the steady, old-time celebrity fans like Spike Lee, Michael J. Fox, Tracy Morgan, Matthew Modine, and former Knicks like Patrick Ewing. I wonder how they decide who makes the cut as a celebrity.

    Anyway, it is always exciting to go to a game at the Garden. For as long as I am able, and Daniel is willing, we will be there at least once a year. Meanwhile, I hope they go deep in the playoffs. They can start by beating the Atlanta Hawks tomorrow.

    Love my boy!
    Love it when MSG is rocking!

  • Travelogue: Norway

    I’m on the final leg of a cruise through Norway. We’re heading to Amsterdam as the last stop on this trip abroad. The stops in Norway included Bergen, Alta, Tromsø, and Narvik—starting in the southern part of the country, traveling north of the Arctic Circle, then crossing the North Sea to reach Amsterdam.

    The trip was advertised as a search for the Northern Lights – something I’ve always wanted to see. They made no guarantee, obviously, that we would see them, but this time of year gave a reasonable chance. Apparently, there is a seasonal pattern to their appearance, and we are nearing the end of a period when they are usually active. We have been lucky to see them several times. 

    The ship sends a recorded message to each room whenever the bridge detects activity, alerting passengers. The first few times it happened, I wondered why it seemed to occur when we were warm and in bed for the night—either at midnight or later. Did the aurora borealis have something against us getting a full night’s sleep? I requested that they adjust their timing, and, lo and behold, they did! The next few times were at a more reasonable hour.

    Interestingly, sometimes the ‘lights’ appeared more as streaks of white gas in the sky, without color, until you looked through a camera lens. Then, magically, the color would appear – mostly green in varying intensity, sometimes with hints of red. They look otherworldly as they dance in the sky. It was exciting to see them, especially the first time. Our cabin had a veranda, so we looked out first to see what we could see. Then we bundled up and went out on one of the upper decks for a better view. One night, it was late, cold, and windy, and I decided I didn’t need to see them again that badly and went back to bed. Overall, I am very grateful to have had the experience.

    We are traveling with two other couples, and one night at dinner, I asked what it was about traveling that they liked most. One of our companions said they most enjoyed walking through new and different places, taking photos of interesting and/or beautiful sights. And, also sampling local cuisine. Food ranked high for several of my fellow travelers. They wanted to try things they had not had before, discovering dishes they might then try to make at home.

    Trying food is a little complicated for me. When I was in my mid-30s, I developed a reaction to shellfish. My neck turned bright red, and my heart would race. I loved shellfish – especially shrimp. But after the second time it happened, and I thought I might need to go to the emergency room, I stopped eating it. It has been 30 years. Aside from avoiding shellfish, it made me wary of trying new things in general. Perhaps there is no good reason for that, but it has interfered with my willingness to be adventurous when eating. I am sorry that’s the case, but while I enjoy a good meal, food isn’t that high a priority for me. As long as I can get something tasty, I’m good. I imagine that someone for whom it was more important might take a different approach and not limit themselves as I have.

    Anyway, I still love traveling. I love seeing new places – it doesn’t have to be as exotic as a Norwegian fjord (at least that’s exotic to me), it can be an ordinary American city, just someplace I have never seen before. I like seeing how other people live. When you can get a glimpse of other lives, it is so interesting, especially when it reflects different priorities. Our tour guide in Tromsø, who had a dry sense of humor, shared with us two fundamental ideas that Norwegians are basically born understanding: (1) Don’t think you’re so special – you are a speck in the world; and (2) you can’t control Mother Nature – take her seriously and respect her. I found that very interesting and quite a contrast to the way Americans generally think. Americans tend to believe in our exceptionalism and individualism, and while we might not think we can conquer our natural environment, I don’t know that we give it its due.

    I also appreciate learning the history of different places. It broadens my perspective on the world, which is so important, especially as the world gets smaller and more connected. It helps to take a step back and recognize that there is more than one way to see an issue.

    But, probably the thing I enjoy the most about travel is the scenery – seeing beautiful places with my own eyes, not just in photographs or videos. Appreciating how spectacular this world is and how there are many different landscapes. There are similarities, too. One could argue that a beach is a beach, or a mountain is a mountain. But that isn’t really true. The Adirondacks are not the same as the Rockies, the beaches of California are not like the beaches of Florida. Cruising the fjords of Norway is not the same as the inside passage of Alaska.

    I am grateful that I have seen the differences. I hope to continue to do that. There is so much beauty on this earth. I just hope we humans don’t screw it up! While I am on vacation, trying to relax, it is hard to block out the realities of conflict around the globe. There are staff on this ship who are not able to get home because they either live in or need to pass through the Middle East, so they are stuck. Same with their replacements. I can pretend, for the moment, that all is well as I gaze out on the flowing sea, but I know better.

    I hope for peace for this beautiful world.

  • Celebrating Family and Identity: A Toast

    There aren’t that many days in our lives when we feel truly special. At least I haven’t had that many. Even if we try to slow down, appreciate our day-to-day lives, and notice gestures of kindness and affection, we don’t often feel showered with love and respect. Maybe a milestone birthday, your wedding, or a retirement party, but sometimes those occasions are fraught as well. I had that rare experience of feeling enveloped in warmth, surrounded by people who were rooting for me this past weekend.

    My brother, Mark, and sister-in-law, Pam, organized a book party for me to celebrate the publication of More Than Matzoh Balls: My Search for Jewish-American Identity. Some family and friends came together to toast my achievement.

    Gary, my husband of 42 years and change, offered the following poem as his toast:

    Linda and her Nana’s table

    They were inseparable

    A safe cocoon, so stable

    A time so memorable.

    Her family hid a shocking secret

    No one spoke about.

    A letter told them of the loss

    Silence could not block out.

    When we met, she also learned

    How my parents survived.

    While many fell, against all odds

    They made it through alive.

    Two families, two traumas

    And two ways to cope.

    Scars of anguish, fear and pain

    Entwined with love and hope.

    All this family legacy

    Stirred around her brain

    And mingled with modernity

    In introspective pain.

    How did Linda fit in?

    And where did she belong?

    Could she find her place and yet

    Embrace that family bond?

    So she started writing

    Blog posts week by week.

    Giving us those snippets

    Giving us a peek.

    A book was such a daunting task

    But she had a tale to tell.

    She wrote and rewrote endlessly

    Dug deep into her well.

    Sometimes it seemed impossible

    Would it ever get done?

    But then she found a publisher

    A new phase had begun.

    She wrote stories we need to hear

    She wrote with care and love

    What the human soul can bear

    And can rise above.

    And now the book is published

    To fill the void with light

    Filled with purpose, filled with hope

    Invested with insight.

    So now we toast our Linda

    For nurturing the dream.

    For showing how a world that vanished

    Can sometimes be redeemed.

    To Linda

    Everyone lifted their glasses and took a sip. It was a special moment. Gary understood all that had gone into this, and he expressed it so beautifully. Sometimes I think he should be the writer in the family! Maybe when he retires, we both can be.

    Whatever happens with the book in terms of sales or attention, it is not as important as having the love and support of family and friends. Of course, I won’t be disappointed if it sells, too!

  • An Open Letter to Steven Spielberg

    Note: I have no expectation that Steven Spielberg will read this or hear about it, but I want to put it out into the world. Of course, if any reader has a connection to him, please share it!

    Dear Mr. Spielberg,

    I am writing to thank you for creating the Shoah Visual History Foundation. It has been a gift to my family.

    In August of 1995, the Bakst family gathered at the Pines Hotel in the Catskills to support Paula Bakst, née Silverfarb, and David Bakst as they gave their testimony about their experiences during the Holocaust. Each was interviewed separately. Our entire family was filmed as a coda to Paula’s presentation. Though it was painful for Paula and David to relive those memories, they viewed it as a responsibility to future generations and wanted it to serve as proof of the reality of the horror of the Holocaust.

    In contrast to some survivors, Paula and David spoke of their experiences during the war before participating in the Shoah Foundation program. I am their daughter-in-law and joined the family in 1983. I heard stories piecemeal in the decade before their testimony. Their four children heard even more over the years, but it wasn’t a narrative. Being interviewed by a trained person helped to create a more complete picture. Importantly, it also painted a portrait of their lives before the upheaval of the invasion, first by the Soviets and then by the Nazis. Watching their testimony, we better understood all that was lost: a way of life, their shtetl culture. We also better appreciated all that was involved to allow for their survival.

    Aside from illuminating our family’s history, their testimony, along with the 59,000 others collected for the project, can be studied by scholars. There are countless stories waiting to be heard. It is at least somewhat reassuring, in this time of rising antisemitism and denial of truth, that this library exists.

    You may be interested to know that Paula’s and David’s testimonies were key resources for two books: The Shoemaker’s Son, written by their granddaughter, Laura Bakst, and More Than Matzoh Balls: My Search for Jewish-American Identity, written by me.

    On a lighter note, I recognize you don’t need help developing material for your movies, but Paula’s and David’s survival and love story would make a wonderful movie!

    I hope you take pride in and feel deep satisfaction knowing how impactful your work has been. It goes without saying that your movies have entertained, enlightened, and uplifted millions of people worldwide. The Shoah Foundation initiative deserves to be recognized on equal footing. It serves as an essential archive of the truth of the Holocaust today and for generations to come.

    Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

    Sincerely,

    Linda Brody Bakst

    Screen grabs from their visual testimony:

  • Explore Identity in ‘More Than Matzoh Balls’

    I have some exciting news to share! My book, More Than Matzoh Balls: My Search for Jewish-American Identity, is being published. It is available to preorder now on Barnes and Noble and will be available soon on Amazon (see link below). You can also request it from your local bookseller. It will be in print on February 15th.

    The book is not simply a compilation of my blog posts. Faithful readers of Stories I Tell Myself may recognize some of the experiences I recount, but there is significant new material. It is not just a series of essays. It is a story, a journey of searching for identity and the challenges one faces in that process. I also weave the extraordinary Holocaust survival story of my in-laws throughout the narrative.

    Though it may be particularly resonant for Jewish-Americans, I believe it addresses universal themes of faith, legacy, family relationships, generational trauma, and self-understanding. Many of us, dare I say most of us, have at least dual identities as Italian-Americans, African-Americans, Mexican-Americans; the list can go on and on. Navigating that duality is challenging in our society. Add to that different faith traditions, and you have complex strands of identity.

    I hope you will order the book, read it (!), and then offer a review on Amazon, Goodreads, or whatever platform you prefer. Of course, you are welcome to reach out with comments through my blog, as well.

    I believe it is a good choice for book clubs. If you are part of one, I hope you will consider recommending it. If you are interested, I am happy to participate as my schedule allows.

    More Than Matzoh Balls has been a project with a very long gestation! I have been writing parts of it in my head for decades, before finally committing it to paper, starting about five years ago. I am excited and proud to see it come to fruition. I hope readers will come away with new insights and questions to ask themselves.

    Here is a peek at the cover!

    If you want to preorder the book: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/more-than-matzoh-balls-linda-brody-bakst/1149134869?ean=9798295417085

    Or from Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Matzoh-Balls-Linda-Brody-Bakst/dp/B0GFC22XD3/ref=sr_1_1?crid=3UAY43SZUWRED&dib=eyJ2IjoiMSJ9.wtTprPo3Zdyd99mfbE6ZRN1JWtN_moezdglrfxj9t0jURAWnoPJFA4hLT1Qev9aZvbf5V3YkJugnsr_Fu-2eXP9z3FzGGsbKEbACEt1O0YEzMQtRvP2Dl0nouC3jCvrhBw2JYtxwsaS6–QNBXA7Kg.DJM2due-G-arBFh_4FewDF9au_Vq8l5lyI8H448j-2M&dib_tag=se&keywords=more+than+matzo+balls&qid=1768490275&s=books&sprefix=%2Cstripbooks%2C127&sr=1-1

    Thank you, dear blog readers, for giving me the encouragement I have needed over the years to continue this project. I hope you will take satisfaction in knowing you contributed to my seeing this through – and more than that, I hope you will enjoy the read!

  • Searching for Light

    The succession of terrible events has hit me hard. The shooting at Brown University, the attack on Jews celebrating Hanukkah in Sydney, Australia, and the murder of Rob and Michelle Reiner combined to drive the cold, dark winter into my soul. As I lay in bed, I thought about the individuals who carried out these monstrous acts. I imagined peering into their hearts and minds, and what I saw frightened me. How does a person get to a place where they feel that this is their only alternative? How angry, aggrieved, hopeless must the person be? If it is mental illness, how does it get to that point? Is a person who commits any one of these acts, by definition, mentally ill? I don’t know how to process this.

    I am always looking for solutions. I want to understand the problem and come up with a plan of action. I don’t know where to start.

    I do have one idea, and that is more restrictive gun laws. As I wrote before, I would be more than willing to repeal the Second Amendment, though, despite the accumulation of mass shootings, Americans are not willing to go there. Obviously, restricting guns doesn’t address how the Reiners were murdered, but it might help limit mass shootings and suicides.

    It also appears that we need to pay more attention to the intersection of mental illness and addiction. We have not successfully addressed, from either a medical or a policy perspective, how to help those who suffer from both. It appears that they feed each other and create a complex set of problems that are not easily solved despite the best efforts of parents, spouses, friends, or therapists. We need to commit resources to find answers; it is unlikely under the current administration.

    None of this is helped by having a president so ill-equipped to empathize, so deficient in humanity. Every decision he and his administration make sends us in the wrong direction. In his offensive social media statement after the death of the Reiners, which struck the wrong note in every respect, he characterized someone who was murdered as having ‘passed away,’ which is just wrong. This may be a small point, especially relative to the larger issue, but using ‘passed away’ to describe what happened to Rob and Michelle Reiner is absurd. They didn’t pass away. People pass away from old age. I can accept the term in the context of illness, but when someone is violently killed and has their life abruptly cut short, they didn’t pass away. My mother passed away. She was in her 90’s, was in hospice care, and was ready.  But what would one expect from our President? He is devoid of decency or insight.

    I watched the movie The Apprentice. It was about Trump’s ascension in New York City’s real estate scene. It came out in 2024 and starred Sebastian Stan and Jeremy Strong; both were nominated for Academy Awards for their performances. I’m not sure what motivated me to watch it – probably boredom – but given my disdain for Trump, it was an odd choice. I started watching, thinking I would probably turn it off after a few minutes, but I was surprised to find it very compelling. The apprentice in the title refers to Trump himself, not his television show. Trump was an acolyte of Roy Cohn, and the film follows Trump being taken under Cohn’s wing. If you don’t know who Roy Cohn is, all you need to know is that he was the attorney who supported Joe McCarthy’s witch hunt for communists in the 1950s. Cohn subscribed to a philosophy of gathering power at all costs – he didn’t believe in right and wrong. He pursued his own or his clients’ interests relentlessly without regard for ethics or morality.

    In the movie, Trump is young, still unformed – he’s stumbling, trying to make deals and impress his difficult father. He is attracted to Cohn’s power. Over time, he adopts Cohn’s approach, perhaps more ruthlessly than Cohn could even imagine. I think the movie offers insight, which may or may not be accurate, into how Trump became the monster he is now. The movie ends long before he becomes president, but you see hints of what the future will bring.

    It is challenging to integrate the terrible things that are happening in our world with the love and beauty I see and feel. This holiday season, I am trying not to let the dark overwhelm the light. It felt especially important to light our menorah in the window each night of Hanukkah. I want to be a light. I can’t ignore the dark – I can’t completely turn off the news or stay off social media. To me, that feels irresponsible, but I understand that some may need to do that for their mental health.

    Despite the challenges we face, I hope folks can feel the love of family and friends, see the beauty in a sunset, enjoy a good meal, smile when they see a child giggle, and hold hope for the new year—wishing everyone a brighter, more joyful 2026.

    Celebrating the light
    or appreciating the beauty of snow on trees.

  • The Power of History: Insights from Normandy

    Note: I wrote a blog post a while ago that asked the question ‘History,’ History In the following post, I take a different perspective.

    What is history? When you visit a new city or country and take a tour, the guide often tells you about the history of the place. I love that. Perhaps my enthusiasm is based on being the daughter of a father who was a high school history teacher and a mother who was a reading teacher. So, I have been a student of history for basically my entire life. But that doesn’t answer the question of what it is. What does a tour guide include in their presentation?

    I am thinking about this because we just returned from a trip that took us to some very interesting places with long, long histories. It is hard not to conclude that when we learn about history, we are often told about wars, and if not outright wars, then power struggles. Is history really a narrative of power? It appears to be so. And, when you dig into it a bit, you sometimes find that those power struggles and wars are about personal things – insults or slights.

    This is a stretch, but if Hitler had been accepted to art school, could that have changed the course of history? Would his ego have been assuaged enough? Would he not have needed to go on a quest to prove himself with such horrific and destructive consequences?

    The trip we took was D-Day themed, so perhaps it was inevitable that the places we saw were chosen based on the role played in that momentous event, or in World War II in general. Perhaps my perception that history is often the recounting of conflicts or wars is colored by the type of tour we chose.

    We took a Viking river cruise that was organized around D-Day. We visited London, Paris, and Normandy. Each place we visited was the site of intense World War II action. Gary and I share a fascination with the topic. Our families were impacted, if not shaped, by those events. Gary has watched countless documentaries about the military battles. I have read innumerable historical novels set in that era. With that said, I learned so much on the trip, and Gary would say the same.

    First, I did not understand the scope of the D-Day invasion. It covered 72 miles of France’s coastline. I thought of it as a single beach, perhaps because of the way it was portrayed in movies. In fact, even that beach, Omaha Beach alone, was six miles long. Aside from breadth of the operation, it also involved so much in the way of logistics and coordination among the allies. They built a temporary port to facilitate bringing in more troops and supplies. It was quite an undertaking.

    Asnelles – part of Gold Beach
    Gold Beach with remnant of temporary harbor
    Part of Omaha Beach

    It was also clear that the difference between success and failure was very narrow. The Allies were on the brink of failure. It is scary to think about the consequences of that possibility. One can’t help but be moved by the extraordinary sacrifice made by the young soldiers who carried out that mission. Standing in the cemetery, which overlooks the English Channel, looking upon row after row of crosses and Stars of David, is overwhelming.

    A small portion of the cemetery

    The land in Normandy still bears the scars of the battle, too. There are craters in grassy areas, and they have left the remnants of the German battlements. The coastline is also dotted with monuments. The statues, sculptures, and museums express the gratitude of France and Europe for their liberation and tell the story of how that was achieved.

    German bunker
    Another German Bunker
    sculpture on Omaha Beach
    Monument at Utah Beach
    sculpture near Pointe du Hoc

    Perhaps the most powerful aspect of visiting this sacred space is its breathtaking beauty.

    I stood on the cliffs, it was so peaceful, the only sounds were birds and the waves. The stark contrast to what it must’ve been like on June 6, 1944, with the pounding of artillery and bombs falling, is striking. When I looked at the cliffs that the soldiers had to scale, I couldn’t help but be amazed by their strength and bravery.

    img_0537
    The cliffs at La Pointe du Hoc

    The towns, which withstood the onslaught, are charming. Some have modern elements that reflect the rebuilding effort, but many of the structures, which date back centuries, are still standing. I could have spent a great deal more time there. We visited for two full days, and it didn’t feel like enough.

    These photos are from the old part of Rouen, considered the capital of Normandy.

    I can’t recommend a visit strongly enough. We need to be reminded of all that went into fighting fascism and what people were willing to sacrifice for freedom. It would be tragic if we allowed our country to continue to slide into authoritarianism. I’m not sure Gary and I needed reminding, but I came away with a renewed sense of responsibility for doing what I can to prevent that from happening.

    If one of the reasons we study history is to learn from it and avoid making the same mistakes, I urge everyone to revisit what World War II and the rise and fall of fascism have to teach us. War, even a just one, is brutal and exacts a steep price.

  • Reflections on Life in America: A Call to Action

    We are driving south on the Thruway once again. Heading to New York City for the weekend. Gary will be going to see a Met game with our son on Saturday. I will find ways to amuse myself – not a difficult assignment in the City (in my heart the one and only city :)).

    I am struck by the disconnect between my life and the world at large. It is a beautiful day. The green hills of the Catskills are showing hints of color as we approach fall, they still look green and lush. The air is clear, the is sky a cloudless, azure, and the sun is beaming. If I only look at the world right in front of me, it is lovely. But, I know better. If I cast a wider look I think of the tragedies around the world  (in Gaza, Israel, Ukraine, etc.), the crackdown on free speech, the unrelenting gun violence in our country, the degradation of our environment that leads to more and more natural disasters, the fear that immigrant families live with, the extraordinary corruption and lack of integrity of Donald Trump. Most of those realities don’t touch me directly. Not yet, anyway. I am fortunate. I can afford higher prices in the supermarket and at the gas pump. I already own a home. Gary and I have savings – hopefully enough to ensure a comfortable retirement. We are able to make these pleasant plans for the weekend.

    I look at the cars streaming down the highway, wondering about the inhabitants. Are they like me, heading off to pleasant destinations? If they aren’t faced with serious illness or job loss/uncertainty, are they just taking things at face value, telling themselves, “It’s all good.”

    I worry that people like me, who are in my economic situation more or less, can delude themselves that everything is okay. If your immediate family is okay – they are gainfully employed, aren’t married to immigrants, perhaps own homes, if their children are healthy – you can put your head down and ignore everything that is going in the wrong direction. They may not be paying attention to the larger picture. Maybe they don’t need Medicaid, maybe their employment isn’t impacted by federal budget cuts, maybe the confusion around vaccinations isn’t concerning if they aren’t immunocompromised, maybe they assume that since they have resources, their children and grandchildren will be protected.

    But life is fragile, and things can change on a dime.

    A mass shooting and/or random violence can strike anyone. A natural disaster can unmoor a whole family. Illness can change everything. We don’t have control over these things, for the most part, but when they happen, we hope to have support to get through it. Some things could help minimize the occurrences – gun control (or see my last essay on repealing the second amendment), more mental health services, steps to slow down climate change could help. But even if we can’t stop these things from happening, we can build supports to help us cope and knowing that support is there, can lessen the anxiety. The current attitude, though, is in the opposite direction. Our social safety net is being decimated. Cutting FEMA, loosening environmental regulations, reducing funding for mental health and pulling government resources from medical research are all disastrous policy choices.

    More than that, though, the attitude that is allowing all this to happen flows from our president, his callousness, his thirst for revenge, his selfishness. We, the American people, are being led by someone who is a terrible role model, and we are worse for it. We cannot allow his character flaws to become part of our national character.

    The danger is that if our lives are largely blessed, or if our vision is narrow, we can pretend all of this is not happening.

    I hope your eyes are open. I hope, as we approach the midterm elections, you pick your head up and use a wide lens to look around and then vote accordingly. It’s not all good and if we continue on this road, we will no longer be the United State of America that I grew up believing in, its values established in the Declaration of Independence: We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men* are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.

    *I note the archaic use of the term men and understand it to mean all humans.

    Lady Liberty still stands in the harbor of New York City, as viewed from Governor’s Island on a recent visit.

  • Repeal the Second Amendment

    Repeal the second amendment! I know that is an inflammatory statement, and maybe unpopular, too, but I need to put it out there.

    It would be the ultimate irony if we made progress on gun control after Charlie Kirk’s assassination. My heart does go out to his family, and all those affected by gun violence. Charlie Kirk, though, does not deserve martyrdom. He did a great deal of damage, bringing a message of intolerance and divisiveness to young people on college campuses. I watched a number of videos of him espousing his beliefs. In some instances, I actually agreed with his point (I don’t think Cardi B is a great role model). However, even in those instances, he did it in a disrespectful, one-sided way. I don’t think Britney Spears or Madonna were great role models for little girls either – and for the same reason. We shouldn’t be sexualizing young girls. Why focus only on a Black star? But that isn’t my point, it is just illustrative of the problem with how Kirk approached things. His racism ran deep, and he was oblivious to his privilege. He shouldn’t be lionized in death.

    Now back to my main point: we should repeal the second amendment. I welcome arguments to the contrary, but please don’t bother explaining the meaning of the second amendment to me – whether it was intended only for militias or individuals. I don’t care what our forefathers intended, just as I wouldn’t accept the argument that because our forefathers tolerated (supported? profited from? believed in? were indifferent to? – pick your verb) slavery, holds no water today. We know better. We should know better about guns.

    For those who require guns to hunt, to protect livestock, to protect us, we can make provisions in law; we can set up mechanisms to allow for that. But, we have to let go of the notion that owning a gun is a God-given right. Some of us don’t believe in God, for one thing, but that aside, even if we can all agree in a common morality –  like ‘thou shall not kill’ – I don’t understand how that morality includes gun ownership.

    The Bill of Rights protects our freedom. How do guns protect our freedom? I could more effectively argue that owning a car is more connected to being free in this country than having a gun. We don’t believe that owning a car is a God-given right. Someone explain to me, in the context of the world we live in now, how possessing a gun enhances your freedom, or is essential to your freedom.

    Somewhere along the line we got things twisted in this country. There may have been a time when settling the ‘wild west’ or living a pioneer life, folks needed guns for their survival. That time has passed. As time went on, though, the gun became symbolic of something else (of rugged individualism, of strength, of masculinity…) – not just a tool to hunt or even to protect oneself. If we have gotten to the point where every man, woman and child needs a gun to protect themselves, we are lost.  

    Most Democrats are not willing to say that the second amendment should be repealed. The attachment to guns is too strong, the gun lobby is too powerful (still! – despite the fact that the NRA has been discredited). I believe we need to be bolder. If we start from the presumption that we don’t have a God-given or forefather-given right to have a gun, so much becomes possible. We can still have shooting ranges. People can still hunt, though unless you hunt for food, I don’t understand the pleasure in that – but that is just me. Police and other security-related people can be armed. But it can all be regulated. And, it moves the question of regular folks having automatic weapons off the table – we wouldn’t need a special law to prohibit it. Think how much simpler it would be – we wouldn’t have to argue about what the second amendment actually means! We’d save millions of dollars in litigation costs.

    I understand how freedom of speech, assembly, press and religion relate to freedom. It is a direct connection to the way we live our lives. I get why we have the Bill of Rights. Those activities are central, crucial to our liberty. It is not a slippery slope if we were to remove the second amendment. The right to bear arms has not made us more free and won’t make us more free. Hasn’t that point been made again and again over the last 25 years!?

    I believe the exact opposite of what Charlie Kirk espoused. The second amendment is not worth the loss of life we as a country have endured. The rate of gun violence is too high a price to pay for the right to bear arms.