Frederick, I awoke to this piece this morning having forgotten the date and already having forgotten why this broken, almost dead “democracy” ever had reason to celebrate. I have come to realize that celebrations are more often a tool of control, a collective, annual hypnotism that doses you with just enough euphoria to forget the ills of history, organized religion, and the culture that is built around the power of the few, the oligarchy of the national narrative, religious doctrine, and a culture that convinces the hypnotized that the ugly underbelly of a powerful organization, be it religious or system of government, caste or racial hierarchy, does not exist because the euphoria cannot be disturbed or challenged.
I have never, by nature, been “all in” on narratives fed me by collectives or groups convinced that their willing consumption of the elixirs of amnesia would be my salvation. Your narrative captures so vividly the cost of collective surrender. And that surrender comes with a terrible cost to the powerless.
A family denied justice and the power of generational wealth was not, however, wiped off the slate because the power of truth could not be generationally silenced. Your work has deftly reminded us that not all that is shiny is gold, and that suffering is the currency of truth. I will walk through this “holiday” acknowledging that reality and celebrating the fact that truth may be battered and bloody, but it will always be preserved by those with the courage to speak it. Thank you for that.
Thank you so much for this piece. So brave, so powerful. Can I ask when was your great-grandfather killed and his store burned down? I'm writing a piece about my family, especially focused on their assimilation as Jews and they also owned a store in Orangeburg; I wonder if the businesses existed at the same time.
Frederick, I awoke to this piece this morning having forgotten the date and already having forgotten why this broken, almost dead “democracy” ever had reason to celebrate. I have come to realize that celebrations are more often a tool of control, a collective, annual hypnotism that doses you with just enough euphoria to forget the ills of history, organized religion, and the culture that is built around the power of the few, the oligarchy of the national narrative, religious doctrine, and a culture that convinces the hypnotized that the ugly underbelly of a powerful organization, be it religious or system of government, caste or racial hierarchy, does not exist because the euphoria cannot be disturbed or challenged.
I have never, by nature, been “all in” on narratives fed me by collectives or groups convinced that their willing consumption of the elixirs of amnesia would be my salvation. Your narrative captures so vividly the cost of collective surrender. And that surrender comes with a terrible cost to the powerless.
A family denied justice and the power of generational wealth was not, however, wiped off the slate because the power of truth could not be generationally silenced. Your work has deftly reminded us that not all that is shiny is gold, and that suffering is the currency of truth. I will walk through this “holiday” acknowledging that reality and celebrating the fact that truth may be battered and bloody, but it will always be preserved by those with the courage to speak it. Thank you for that.
Powerful essay. Thank you.
Whether we wanted it or not, this is what we needed today. Thank you! (“We” know who we are.)
You are a spectacular writer, able to bring us into the truth of not just a moment, but a history.
Brilliant piece! Absolutely brilliant.
Thank you so much for this piece. So brave, so powerful. Can I ask when was your great-grandfather killed and his store burned down? I'm writing a piece about my family, especially focused on their assimilation as Jews and they also owned a store in Orangeburg; I wonder if the businesses existed at the same time.
What a powerful piece to read today. Thank you.
Wow, breathtaking. Thank you for sharing your family’s story and I hope we all take it to heart.