It's good to be wrong.
It's the path to getting it right.
Yesterday, I had the most nourishing evening I’ve had in a long time, speaking with a group of exceptional women all bonded in part by our values and our politics.
It’s the most wonderful feeling to go around a circle of mostly-new-to-you people introducing themselves and the things they care about, and to find yourself nodding furiously to so much, desperate to hear more.
Some of these women had authored or been a part of creating the widely circulated, extremely important, and undoubtedly disturbing Slate editorial about the need for all of us to stand up for victims of sexual assault, regardless of our politics or allegiances. You will know their names.
If you haven’t read their words, you must.
If you have not read the deeply researched and infallibly sourced New York Times investigation called Screams Without Words: How Hamas Weaponized Sexual Violence on October 7 (gift article link), you must. It will be incredibly difficult.
I should have shared it here sooner.
I really should have shared it here sooner.
The truth is, I have struggled greatly with the October 7 terror attack and the complexity of its aftermath — the horrific loss of life in Gaza, the struggle to get aid care to children in need, the rise of anti-semitism around the world, the suffering of parents who have lost children, the pain of the families of the hostages still in captivity, the pain of all people who struggle to be free from the violence of extremism and authoritarian rule. I struggle with the hypocrisy of right-wing officials who said nothing after Charlottesville and now find it politically expedient to “stand up” against anti-semitism as a craven entrance to the dismantling of important DEI programs. I struggle seeing presumed liberal Jewish friends move to support those politicians, so desperate they are to feel seen and heard right now.
Above all, I have struggled looking to so many of my feminist idols, my forever allies, my outspoken heroes and realizing that maybe some women’s bodies matter to them less than others.
(If you’re already thinking “but what about..” please don’t. Just stay with me for a bit.)
I think about these things all the time.
Still, I know I have lost friends and valued colleagues who think I’m not speaking up for Israel enough or in the right way. I know I have lost friends and valued colleagues who think I’m not speaking up for Palestine enough or in the right way. I’ve been challenged by people parsing my social feeds to “see where I stand” or which hashtags I’m using.
I never want to hurt people who are already hurting so much.
Everyone seems to be hurting.
So for better or for worse, I have spent less time speaking about all this in public, and more time asking questions, more time listening, more time learning from experts on all sides (note that I don’t say both sides) of the issues (note that I don’t say issue) that are at play here.
It’s just so complex. And I know we like our politics black/white, good/bad, my side right/your side wrong. But here, there are so many interwoven issues, it’s hard to extract them.
I think what was most incredible about last night was to be invited into a space not where we all agreed, but where we didn’t and that was okay. Passion didn’t trump thoughtfulness. Women spoke fiercely, and still listened to each other.
It was a space to hear things I hadn’t considered, in ways I hadn’t heard them expressed.
It was a space to have my ideas challenged.
It was a space where I could be wrong.
(Including referring to the ADL as the JDL, which oy. I definitely did not mean the JDL. I blame my second glass of wine but yeah, that was my Adele Nazeem moment and it will pretty much haunt me forever.)
Other than that one gaffe (really, I’m sweating just thinking about it right now), I loved being wrong.
Imagine how much we would all grow if we enter any discussion or debate with the thought, “what if I’m wrong?” and not just “I’m going to prove I’m right.”
(No doubt I have inadvertently borrowed that thought from someone and whoever it is, thank you.)
A lot of things are still difficult for me to figure out, but on this I am 100% clear, and I am 100% right:
Rape is wrong under any circumstance. It is not ever justified. It is not ever a path to anything good. It is not ever the victim’s fault. If we can’t all say that much, loudly and with total conviction, then who even are we?
Sexual violence should be abhorrent to all of us, no matter who it is perpetrated against or where they live, they wrote.
To express moral outrage and legal horror at the offenses perpetrated on women in Israel is not tantamount to approving the governing Netanyahu coalition, nor does it signal support for the bombings in Gaza. It is simply to assert the long-standing feminist argument that our bodies are not to be weaponized in global conflicts. Acknowledging these atrocities does not diminish the suffering of Palestinian women in Gaza. It is essential to reaffirming our shared humanity
I was wrong not to share those words here two months ago when they were written. I am sharing them now.
Comments are open. Be thoughtful and respectful. Those are the rules.
Unfortunate Update: Due to a number of rape apologists commenting here, denying the lived experience of women along with hours and hours of credible corroborating video and photos , I’ve been forced to close comments. This is rare and makes me incredibly sad. If you are working this hard to disavow proven stories of violent sexual assault on women - but only certain women - I truly hope you’ll spend some time examining your biases. We all have biases, of course. But these in particular are vile, and I will not provide a platform for it.
Oh it's hard to be a Jew right now. I hear you. I've not said much because some people I know are all about Palestine. Other are all about Israel. I'm all about not killing people.