Circumstance & Happenstance
January 20, 2023 (written by Dr. Laurie Greenberg)
I’ve often thought of the tremendous impact circumstance has not only on our lives but also on our viewpoints and resultant actions. A day doesn’t go by when I don’t feel gratitude for my life circumstance, what it’s afforded me, my values, and the lessons I’ve learned — for my Jewish heritage; to live in a great democracy; for my family values of education, service, tolerance; how those gifts come with responsibilities, and so much more. I’m aware that if I had been born in a different place or time or had a different upbringing, I’d be a completely different person.
Last weekend I was in Washington DC. I had planned the visit to coincide with my daughter Elisa’s business trip there, to visit my ex’s family whom I have little opportunity to see. It was wonderful to visit with my mother-in-law and her husband, my brother and sister-in-law, my nephew and his wife, and of course to spend time with my daughter, taking public transportation (one of her true passions), walking, seeing the White House, the Capitol, the Washington Monument, the Supreme Court, feeling grateful to be there, for the principles on which the United States was founded.
While in DC I had heard that there was going to be a pro-Palestine rally and I was curious — what would it look like, what would the messaging be? Would the attendees be urging support for Palestinian people, would they be urging support for Hamas, and would the expected anti-Israel messaging also be anti-Jew messaging? We were already out and about walking in the area, and I wanted to see what the vibe was. Elisa was nonchalant; having lived and worked in DC she was accustomed to frequent rallies for all sorts of causes.
As we approached I had a rush of thoughts: Would I feel fearful, angry, hopeless? Would I see any Jews there, and if so would I recognize them? What if I had happened to have been born to a Palestinian family? Would I have relatives engulfed in war? Would I have attended the rally as a participant?
We saw hundreds of people walking to and from the rally, carrying Palestinian flags, wearing the Palestinian keffiyeh, and carrying signs. There was chanting and cheering, signs to stop the genocide, for the U.S. government to stop the funding for Israel.
We made our way to dinner, and the streets and restaurants were full of the protesters. There were many staying at our hotel, and I thought how under any other circumstance I would have made conversation with the people hanging in the hotel lobby. Still, this time I was uncomfortable with the perceived divide and did not initiate conversation.
The next day Elisa and I went to dinner at a Thai restaurant which was her favorite when she lived in DC. The food was delicious and the staff was lovely. They remembered her and she them, and they warmly embraced. After the meal, I went to the restroom before heading to the Metro. In the ladies room was a small Palestinian flag, which could have been placed by a protester or the restaurant staff.
As I took the Metro to the airport, I listened to a part of a podcast a friend had sent. Two Americans were arguing about the Hamas-Israel war, and some of the anti-Israel “facts” that were presented I knew to be false. I thought about how easy it is for us to believe, to get emotionally charged, to react. I avoid social media, a tremendous source of information and misinformation. I thought about how AI can be used to further incite our reactivity.
Still processing all this I returned to work the next day. Someone at the office started to share a story about October 7 and I froze, only to realize after several minutes that she was talking about her daughter’s wedding that took place that day. Her reality and the meaning of the day were light-years from mine. I thought about how often people have disparate realities.
Though I was not a firsthand witness to the atrocities in Israel, the stories are numerous. Later that day, a non-Jewish colleague offered me support about the tragedies in Israel and the ongoing horror of war, and I felt a flood of gratitude to be seen.
I’ve continued to reflect on this and more this week. Last night my daughter Danya and I attended a Shine-the-Light dinner with churchgoers at the First United Methodist Church in Mission Valley. The Jewish ambassadors shared a bit about Shabbat and Tu B’shvat, and I had the opportunity to speak with Reverend Trudy and some participants and learn a little about Methodist belief and practice. I found many commonalities with my Jewish beliefs and practices. I thought about how I could have happened to have been born to a Methodist family.
At the end of the evening, I spoke with a woman who shared her joy in having discovered the JCC and the Film Festival, and her surprise in finding that as a non-Jew she is welcome at the J. She marveled at the warmth she feels when she comes to the JCC, and was curious (though delighted) as to why there would be food served alongside a film! I shared that, unlike an Arts organization where the focus is the art itself, the JCC’s focus is building community, of which food is always a part!
All of these experiences remind me that our beliefs and behaviors are influenced by our circumstances, some of which are arbitrary, that conversation and getting to know the other (who might have been us) is critical, and that nothing is more meaningful than the blessing of community.
Shavuah Tov,
Laurie
Laurie Greenberg
Board Chair, LFJCC
