Growing from tragedy

I see promise. I see hope. I see a country that gave all of us Jews an outpouring of love such that my ancestors could never have dreamed of.

By AKIVA GOTTLIEB
A woman bows her head in front of a memorial on October 28, 2018, at the Tree of Life synagogue after a shooting there left 11 people dead in the Squirrel Hill neighborhood of Pittsburgh on October 27 (photo credit: BRENDAN SMIALOWSKI / AFP)
A woman bows her head in front of a memorial on October 28, 2018, at the Tree of Life synagogue after a shooting there left 11 people dead in the Squirrel Hill neighborhood of Pittsburgh on October 27
(photo credit: BRENDAN SMIALOWSKI / AFP)
This past Saturday in Pittsburgh a terrible tragedy was committed in the name of hate. A massacre of innocents. The shockwaves of pain and horror rippling across America are palpable as we collectively mourn this horrific act of terror.
Many people look at a tragedy like this and see a divided country that promotes distrust of all those who are different, be it physically or ideologically. Many people say that the divides are too great, the hates are too deep. They ask how this country can go anyplace but down when our day-to-day rhetoric is so filled with vitriol and the shift towards tribalism seems to be inevitable.
And I don’t believe they are wrong in asking these questions, for these are indeed toxic times in which we live, where the unequivocal love Abraham displayed toward all people begins to sound more and more like a fairy tale to my generation growing up amid social media.
But I also see something different. I see promise. I see hope. I see a country that gave all of us Jews an outpouring of love such that my ancestors could never have dreamed of. I see a country, Republicans and Democrats as one, united firmly against all forms of hate and injustice.
What I see from this past weekend, through the tears of tragedy, is truly one nation firmly united against evil. I see us sharing the same hopes and values as we all, under God, pray for those affected by this and all tragedy. In our most vulnerable moments, I see a country that looks indivisible. I see now a group of people who truly care about their neighbors; a caring that goes way beyond party lines.
We must take this moment with us, making the most of a tragedy, and remember there truly is much more that unites us than divides us. We must remember our moment of unity and carry it with us so we can remain united even when there is no calamity to bind us together. Perhaps, if we can remember this, we can heal our hates and work together to continue building this beautiful country of freedom and justice for all.
The writer is a 22-year-old Orthodox Jew from Monsey, NY, currently studying at Touro College.