Category Archives: immigrants

Taking Stock of 2022–Part I: Won’t Get Fooled Again

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“An artist needs to be something like a whale swimming with his mouth wide open, absorbing everything until he has what he really needs.”–Romare Beardon

Ten days into 2022, I lost my brother, Danny–an unexpected death due to an imploded port. The malfunction had scheduled for repair, but that had been delayed due to COVID (one of many statistics that would not be included in the pandemic’s path of destruction). Beset with mental illness from the age of 15, which was later accompanied by a host of physical problems, Danny’s life was not easy and neither was our relationship. Yet, as teens, we bonded over baseball and rock music. I’d play the guitar and we’d sing together. Danny would ask me to listen as he turned the amp on high and belted along with The Who’s “Won’t Get Fooled Again.” As his illness became worse, he got more delusional about being a rock star, his stubborn insistence occasionally edging on violence when my parents tried to curtail the raucous sound from being blasted out into the neighborhood.

When I think of what I “absorbed” this year, this sad life event from early January continues to stand out despite its countering with one of my happiest life events: the birth in September of my grandchild, Manu. Both have inspired a lot of writing, and watching the awe and wonder with which Manu approaches the world fills me with a poignancy hard to describe without resorting to clichés about both the preciousness and fragility of life, and how one of the most healing things we can do for grief (at least for me) is to continue to practice gratitude and look forward, even as we continue to struggle to make sense of the cracks in our past.

Meanwhile, the echoes of Won’t Get Fooled Again continue to resonate as a backdrop on my musings, as in the song I can feel both the anger at the state of the world and (despite the sarcasm) the hope of better tomorrows that don’t need to be mere delusions. I say this after reading about the Governor of Texas sending busloads of migrants to the Vice President’s House in subfreezing weather on Christmas Eve–an anti-nativity story if there ever was one. However one feels about the situation at our borders, it’s this kind of deliberate cruelty that triggers my anger at both sides of the government for “fooling us” into thinking that they care. And yet, I hang on to the hope of better tomorrows, reflected in the many people who are on the streets, helping migrants and other unhoused people who are stranded in the cold.

I’m determined not to get fooled (or worse, despondent) in 2023. Out of grief comes hope, the awe of new discovery, and the determination to work for a better world.

 

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Gratitude, Mourning, and Alice’s Restaurant

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Sometimes it’s hard for me to get into Thanksgiving, even though as a Jew, it at least feels more inclusive than the hoopla around Christmas. Yet, the holiday is still problematic, especially as we find ourselves needing to let go of the old elementary school story of the Pilgrims and Indians sitting down at the table together and sharing a big feast–perhaps a moment in our common history, but certainly not where the tragic plot ended.

So, as I attempt to pull off small bits of our family dinner menu (cooking one-handed is not easy), I expect to again be listening to the livestream of the United American Indians of New England National Day of Mourning from Plymouth. Here’s a snippet of a poem I wrote last year on that topic.

….earlier I listened

to indigenous speakers lamenting loss of their land,
made a pastry with cranberries

harvested from the place pilgrims landed,
wondered what truth in bogs,

in magenta juices
spilling onto the oven’s bottom,

refusing to be smothered
by my pale and doughy crust?

And I think this cartoon I saw on Facebook also needs some contemplation as we think about what is happening right now to immigrants in our country, the Governor of Texas going so far as to call for the National Guard to shoot immigrants on site.

But on to gratitude: One of the many things I’m grateful for is  that my ancestors were able to escape pogroms and come to this country to build a new life. That is my wish for those now facing death threats, gang violence, war, climate devastation, and other pressing issues who are now seeking to cross our borders.

Thanksgiving to me is also all about Arlo Guthrie’s, Alice’s Restaurant, which we used to search for on the car radio when we drove from Massachusetts to my parents home in New York City every Thanksgiving morning. Hilarious and uplifting in its snarky sarcasm, the best message I take home from Arlo is that we don’t need to accept that status quo, even as we do feel gratitude. I look forward to sharing this family tradition with my grandchild, Manu who will be spending his first Thanksgiving with us tomorrow.

So, whatever y’all do or don’t do to celebrate this fourth Thursday in November, I hope that as the song comes around again on the guitar, you’ll think about gratitude, and mourning, and hope for those in search of a better world.

 

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