It's the 7th of October and I'm almost fearful of turning my tv on. I've know so many feminists who've been to either Palestine or Israel. Starhawk was there and wrote about it. Alice Walker was there and wrote about it. Many Dutch feminists set up support groups. Women of my choir have gone there as human shields and came back feeling so disturbed by what they observed, they organised a whole weekend to talk about it publicly after their return. They couldn't talk about anything else for months. So much energy went there and yet they were all left with a sense of utter powerlessness. The last film by Chantal Akkerman comes to my mind too. 'Not a home movie'. There is a very long scene in there where she films 'the promised land' from a driving car. All you see is dessert, a bare landscape looking like a moonscape. But she also films her Jewish mother in Brussels and how effected she was by WWII, and her and her sister interacting with their mother in quite a disturbing way. Emotionally frozen like my parents were who barely survived the hunger winter. The way you end this reminiscing piece is how it is now during the carnage we are witnessing. I don't know how to talk about this any more. I truly don't either.... I don't think I can take more soul destroying war mongering, and seeing the multitude of dead bodies.... How do we process all of this. Thanks for your words Bronwyn.
I sure am glad I asked to friend you, Bronwyn. You have a lot of experience and wisdom to impart on this intractable issue. Thanks for the posting.
Thank you! I'm glad the post resonated with you. Every time I speak or write about it, it feels like I'm striding into a minefield.
A spot on position.
It's the 7th of October and I'm almost fearful of turning my tv on. I've know so many feminists who've been to either Palestine or Israel. Starhawk was there and wrote about it. Alice Walker was there and wrote about it. Many Dutch feminists set up support groups. Women of my choir have gone there as human shields and came back feeling so disturbed by what they observed, they organised a whole weekend to talk about it publicly after their return. They couldn't talk about anything else for months. So much energy went there and yet they were all left with a sense of utter powerlessness. The last film by Chantal Akkerman comes to my mind too. 'Not a home movie'. There is a very long scene in there where she films 'the promised land' from a driving car. All you see is dessert, a bare landscape looking like a moonscape. But she also films her Jewish mother in Brussels and how effected she was by WWII, and her and her sister interacting with their mother in quite a disturbing way. Emotionally frozen like my parents were who barely survived the hunger winter. The way you end this reminiscing piece is how it is now during the carnage we are witnessing. I don't know how to talk about this any more. I truly don't either.... I don't think I can take more soul destroying war mongering, and seeing the multitude of dead bodies.... How do we process all of this. Thanks for your words Bronwyn.