5784: an open letter to my fellow jews as we ring in the new year

"if it doesn't apply, let it fly."

if something stings, it's a wound and not a scar, i've learned. am learning. am accepting.

a consistent theme throughout all my recent spaces is the need for storytelling, but we don't talk about when the stories aren't fun ones that people enjoy hearing. the ones that dampen a room because they are more akin to horror stories rather than feel-goods.

how can we, those who have heavy stories with us, share with folks who have still yet developed the muscles to love the reflection that looks back at them?

reflecting back on some of my Experiences with specifically My Jewish communities, which have a penchant for being predominantly white Ashkenazi - I am still trying to find the words to name the amalgamation of feelings that have been bottled, festered, and bursting at the seams.

i am trying not to keep transferring the rage, the pain, the anger, And - it feels like it goes against some values to share vulnerably, my less than ideal origin story.

to talk about class amongst a community that doesn't quite understand the differentiation lived experience. the concepts that i have just recently been offered the language for.

recently i had a mandatory racial trauma training, based on a book from an adept educator on the topic.

some terms that i was introduced to, which really helped widen my vocabulary, and put a name to the feelings and experiences in more intellectual (digestible/approachable/palatable) way:

experiences by the people of the global majority (non-yt people)

-internalized devaluation

-assaulted sense of self

-learned voicelessness

-psychological homelessness

-orientation towards survival

-intangible loss(/anticipatory grief)

-rage

there are positive terms too, which directly converse the ones listed

-countering devaluation

-promoting a reconstructed self

-overcoming learned voicelessness

-promoting relational connectedness

-transforming habits of survival strategies to strategies of survival

-acknowledging and humanizing loss

-rechanneling rage

capitalism is the grip that has us all believing that our humanity matters more.

we all have such varied 'standards of living' and the stratification can go on and on.

socio-standing and economic status go hand in hand because it informs of the depths to which we can be in relation to one another.

an example of this is the gaps in understanding between folks who have generation wealth and folks who dont. to clarify my usage of this term, my understanding of "wealth" includes but is not limited to:

-property, estates

-secure income, savings

-social networks (access to affluence or opportunities)

i was not raised with these.

i was raised listening to unadulterated rage and pain,

by a man who was wounded by a wounded man

brought up by a wounded patriot,

to a land who thought him disposable.

who thought a purple heart was enough.

what about the pain internal?

what about the wounds unseen?

to fight a war,

you must debate the humanity of your enemy,

you need to think in binary: me or you?

whose life is on the line?

lower the stakes.

consider how you wake up every morning.

what is your morning routine?

what thoughts cross your mind?

do you get to ponder?

or do you have to prepare?

"will somebody else's bad day, make today my last?"

i am chinese. i am trans. i am jewish.

i cannot be visibly jewish anymore.

the anti-semitism is tangible.

the assumption that i have money.

the assumption i have "generational wealth" when i have generational wounds.

as do we all,

but mine are still unattended.

i want to write a book,

to stave off all the big bads,

they cannot live in my head anymore.

there is not enough room for them here.

they have been taking up far too much space for far too long.

i want to do better. and be better, because the people i love Deserve it.

because i deserve it.

what use is financial literacy if you cannot obtain a means of survival that can even grant you financial stability? sure the skill is vital, but what is there to sell aside from ourselves?

the reputation of sex work is one that is so steeped in stigma,

while we are all out here selling our bodies to a certain capacity.

are you selling a skill you developed?

or are you selling your face?

is your brand, the image of you that you carefully sculpted?

or is it the integrity with which you engage with the world around you?

why are some forms of survival deemed respectable,

and others..deplorable?

if i could tell you i can sell you happiness,

how much would you pay me?

if we could bottle joy,

what would it be worth?

you cannot replicate authenticity,

or genuine elation.

you can tell when someone Loves,

and you can tell when one is Loved.

what if you took a second,

to really Watch how someone else is Received by the world,

the many worlds that are often forgotten,

the ones that we take for granted.

i have been carrying more than my fair share of weight.

i am so tired.

my bags are too big,

for me to get to you.

i have boxes,

waiting to be unpacked,

will you help me?

drawers,

i have been holding off on building,

because i want the dust made,

doing them with you.

breath in your gallbladder,

and let's fucking go.