This essay is part of a new collection of work inspired by the anthology On Being Jewish Now: Reflections of Authors and Advocates. Want to contribute? Instructions here. Subscribe here.
Who am I now?
I am Jewish. I am Canadian.
Words now political, analytical.
You can read between those lines, under lines.
I am sad.
I do not understand this world anymore.
And I don’t know who I can talk to.
What I can say out loud.
What newscasts I can listen to.
What truth is to me is so different for others.
Are there really versions of truth?
Even as Jews, we are not united, and our truths seem to vary.
How? How?
By country, by territory, by political affiliation.
Within my family.
Within my family.
Those words do not make sense.
I am shaken. I am poured. Like hot oil into the sink.
The sizzle, the stain, the residue that remains.
I have changed.
I cannot believe the thoughts I have.
Me, the Peace and Love generation.
A peace sign hanging off a leather strap on my chest like a tattoo to my soul.
Who am I?
I am so angry.
I cannot climb out of sadness.
Bleak. Grey. Grainy.
Salt on open wounds.
A bandage ripped off too soon, and the wound will never heal.
Hostages out of Gaza.
The spat a tat spit of gun fire,
the echo of footsteps descending dark stairwells,
etched on their faces,
engraved in their lines,
stuck in my mind that will not recede
and stake home in my heart.
I am fragile. I am hate.
I did not know I could hate.
I did not know I could have such thoughts.
I am steadfast.
I cannot wallow, be hollow.
And I swear and I swear, this is more than I can bear, the fate of those children coming home.
Will they be wrapped in gauze.
Murderers.
Ashes, eyelashes.
Butterflies under tires.
Imprints in the sand.
Oh God, I hope I am wrong.
Oh God.
The lies we tell ourselves to survive.
Jacqueline Markowitz is a writer with a background in film, visual art and advertising. Mom and Buby, she recently gave up life in Toronto and moved to the country with her husband and Luna, the sheepadoodle, where she can be found differentiating the flowers from the weeds, painting and writing. Her novel Conversations for Two was published in 2015. Currently she is completing her latest novel, The Grimsby Girl.
This essay is part of a new collection of work inspired by the anthology On Being Jewish Now: Reflections of Authors and Advocates. Want to contribute? Instructions here. Subscribe here.
Powerful, resonating, relatable Words , sentiments, sadness to mark this time that has scarred our hearts and souls . Your voice speaks for me too. Thank you for finding your words, for bearing witness. We are people of the word, words that heal and question and plant seeds of hope for the continued strength of our people . Such an important poem as document for this painful time in our history
This is beautiful. Thank you for sharing it with us.