Words and Deeds

60: (February 2025)

Lately, there are so many words and deeds whipping about in our country that are deeply disturbing. E.g., Secretary of State Marco Rubio cites his directive: “Every dollar we spend, every program we fund, every policy we pursue must be justified by the answer to one of three questions: Does it make America safer? Does it make America stronger? Does it make America more prosperous?”

I understand why these questions are important, but they cannot and should not exist in a vacuum. The country I grew up in went well beyond those questions and understood the role and importance of being a moral leader in the larger world. The country I grew up in would recognize that those words fall far short with respect to pausing USAID for humanitarian programs worldwide. The country I grew up in aspired to be better than rounding up immigrants of all stripes for deportation, whether or not they committed crimes. The country I grew up in would not make the preposterous threat to round up and remove all Palestinians from their homeland in order to build a Gaza ‘Riviera.’ The country I want to live in would not capriciously eradicate all diversity, equity, and inclusion efforts. I thought my country had more humanity.

The following words are inscribed on a plaque attached to the base of the Statue of Liberty’s pedestal:

Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore.
Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door.

Those are the words that I grew up with, etched into my heart. Those are the words that inspired me, made me proud to be an American. And now, my heart breaks a little more with each passing day as I hear words and see deeds that lack any shred of compassion, empathy, or justice.

Other words written into my heart were learned from the Bible through my Catholic upbringing, such as, “Do to others as you would have them do to you,” (Luke 6:31). And the 7th Principal of the Unitarian Universalist Church, which I currently attend: “Respect for the interdependent web of all existence of which we are a part.” Our country used to aspire to goodness—which was indeed a path to greatness—but now we seem to have obliterated any noble aspirations within just a few weeks.

We are all connected, no matter how high one builds walls, or how much of a blind eye we turn. It is not possible to simply separate ourselves from the rest of humanity, or from the health of our planet. Do we as a nation no longer have any moral compass? We will all ultimately suffer from the narrow-minded, intensely self-interested views of the current administration.

It is infuriating, exhausting, and saddens me deeply to see all the values that mean so much to me being trampled upon. Is the America I loved gone? Are self-interest and cruelty becoming the new status quo? I turn to my friends and family for solidarity, for strength, and for humor as we all face these new challenges. And I return to sacred texts and wise words that provide spiritual nourishment—for the spirit needs to stay alive and well, especially during these times. For there was never more urgency to do what we can, whenever we can, to see that decency and compassion prevail.

40: (February 2005)

My daughters and I recently had dinner with my cousin and her 17-year-old daughter. They live in California, but were in Boston for the day on a college visit. The last time I saw my cousin was almost 21 years ago at my father’s funeral. Funny thing was, I felt like I had seen her yesterday. I experienced the miraculous sensation made possible when love is present, when time does not seem to pass in a linear dimension, but just drops away, evaporates.

It’s not like we had grown up side by side. I grew up in New York, she in New Mexico. We met once at my grandmother’s funeral when we were about 10 years old and then again when she came east to go to college. Although she lived several states away, she had been able to make a few visits, and later, I went to her wedding.

Communication has been mostly by way of the annual Christmas card since then. I have had to imagine my cousin’s life: first in the navy; then as a doctor; then as the mother of one, two, three—okay, six children. When she heard that my marriage was ending three years ago, this cousin sent me a care package of sweets and tea. She, the mother of six children, still a practicing physician, made time to send me a box filled with comfort. That gesture will always remain in the core of my heart. When I learned that she and her daughter were coming east for a visit, I was thrilled.

We all shared a meal and talked, talked, talked, and laughed. When we parted, I felt lighter, joyful, and deeply grateful for having these two wonderful women in my family, with their infectious, positive spirits and their good humor and kindness. My father seemed present in a palpable way through this cousin, whose blood flows from the same source as mine, through our grandparents. My dad, me, my cousin, her daughter, my daughters, all connected through this lifeblood. Bonded.

Family. Irrational to feel so connected to people I have actually not spent much of my life with. And yet, it makes the living worthwhile.

60-40:

Turn to those you love. Shower them with love. We’ve got to hold onto the belief that love—and its manifestations—will conquer in the end, so combat hate with love as well.

We may not know how to best respond to words and deeds that assault our sense of morality right now, but we can seek ways to join others in actions both large and small as we navigate the future together.