Do You Understand What I'm Trying To Say?

Dispatch from a young man in America

What am I supposed to do? I can’t stop the next great war. I can’t save the plane from crashing in India; can’t save the Ukrainian man I saw blown to bits on my phone; can’t help his friend who posted the video of his exploding body overcome the trauma; can’t help the starving Palestinian children whose ribbed bodies plaster my Instagram; can’t help my cousins in Israel as they hide in a cellar. I can’t do anything about the bullets of information that come shattering through my screen. Nothing I learn in the news changes my daily life. All of it feels existentially, crucially important. Far more important than anything I have going on.

There is nothing I can do to stop the world from collapsing. If my cousins are blown apart by an Iranian missile, the New York Times will tell me long before my grandma ever knows. I cannot save my future. All my choices are insulting: “What restaurant will I order from?” Who cares!?

I want to tell you a secret: I love Israel. I love Israel because every Jewish place I’ve ever loved my people in has had its flag on the wall, so I associate Israel with Judaism. And in a world of emojis, where every Progressive has the Palestinian flag in their bio, and Israel is called “Is-not-real” with the puking emoji after it, I feel like these are attacks on Judaism — these are attacks on me. Do you understand what I’m trying to say? I know it isn’t rational; I know that I should know better. But that’s how I feel. And isn’t that the whole point? Isn’t that what we’ve been fighting for: for people to talk about how they feel? For that to be acknowledged. Honored. Isn’t that what we say: “I honor what you’re feeling.” Why is it then that Progressives, whom I’ve sided with my whole life, have not included me in their anthology of victims? Why aren’t the Jews victims? I feel like a victim!

And the worst part is: I don’t even really want to be included. I think the whole thing is stupid. But it still hurts to be left out. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?