Is This Who We Are?
I don’t have a recipe for you today. I do, but I also don’t. I struggle to produce, be creative, and share inspiring words when I am simply crumbling.
If you, like me, have ever wondered what you would have done during the Holocaust, well, what are you doing today?
12,660 children have died in Gaza since October 7th. On Tuesday, Save the Children stated that “Time is running out for children in Gaza as reports emerge that they are starting to die because of malnutrition while Israel continues to impose restrictions preventing the safe delivery of aid.”
Only monsters do this. Enable this.
I donated $75 to the World Food Program today for emergency food aid for Gaza. Will it matter? According to WFP, $75 can feed one family for a month; two minutes later, I saw an article on how one Palestinian man spent over $90 on one plate of food for his pregnant wife. It looked like about a cup of rice and maybe two to three ounces of meat.
The lack of accurate, reliable, and useful information out of Gaza is scarce. We do know that Palestinians are being forced to eat grass and animal feed while drinking unsafe water. None of that is sustainable on any level, a means simply to make it another hour, another day.
Why the lack of food? Israeli armed forces are impeding access points for aid workers, hindering the delivery of food assistance to Gaza. Amidst the challenges, aid convoys face frequent instances of looting and attacks, resulting in the loss of over 100 aid workers' lives in the ongoing conflict. Those attacks led the World Food Program to suspend efforts in Northern Gaza last week due to safety concerns. Efforts are still ongoing in other parts of Gaza. Yesterday, Israeli military targeting Palestinians queued for essential food aid killed 104 civilians.
What does this accomplish? What is the goal other than complete genocide?
Hunger is also so close to home. A few weeks ago, Alex and I had gone on a long walk around town. I’m used to being stopped and asked for money and will always give some cash if I have it on hand. We had just turned a corner about to hop into a local Vietnamese spot for a quick spring roll. Before we reached the door, an unhoused gentleman approached and asked, “Do you think you could get me something to eat.” My heart was already breaking; I said, “Of course,” and asked if he wanted to take a look at their menu sign outside and tell me what he wanted. He scanned the board for a few minutes before I gently asked if he’d like some Pho, which he emphatically said “yes” to while his entire face shifted to thankfulness while also asking if the soup “came with those noodle things.” Walking into the restaurant, which has a double-door system and a small waiting area, we realized they had closed about 10 minutes prior with the interior door locked.
I walked out and gently told him they were closed and that I was sorry. I didn’t see any other restaurants around as we were in a bit of an empty area of town that I’m not super familiar with. When I told him as such he started crying. I wanted so much to hug him. I walked down the sidewalk a few steps and saw a ramen spot that didn’t have a ton of signage. I quickly got his attention, and we walked in together so he could order. I paid, told him to have a great day, and left. And I’ve thought about him every day since.
Personally, our food budget has never been more expensive or more scarce. Work has been slow, as it is for many of the creatives in my network. The Kellogg CEO this week made a repulsive, but not surprising, comment stating that Americans facing inflation should eat more cereal for dinner.
Food is a human right, but I’d go a step further and say that whole, nutritious food is a human right. Food that’s of place, food that nourishes and sustains both body and soul.
This morning I woke up in tears. Tears for humanity, myself and my loved ones going through incredibly difficult circumstances. My body feels heavy, like I can’t lift my arms. My sorrow, the collectives’ sorrow, is all too much to handle today.
How do we live in this world? How do we function while such horrors are happening to the collective? Maybe I feel too much. Other people’s sorrows manifesting as literal pain in my body. I don’t know how to handle it. I don’t have the tools, the support systems, or the words. All I have is sadness and the life-sustaining hope that I can alleviate suffering, even for just one person.
I realized while proofing before publishing that I’ve asked many questions above. One’s that no one has any answers to. They’re hypothetical in that way but also not. These are the questions we need to ask 24/7 if we want to build a better future. Or have a future, for that matter.
I hope you rest today. I hope you eat something nourishing with someone you love. Alex is in the kitchen roasting some herbed tofu and potatoes that we’ll have with some leftover quinoa, a roasted artichoke hummus we photographed for a client this week, and some olives, onion, and cucumber. Maybe the greatest resistance of all is to love one another.
