The upcoming immigrant crisis and the grief of LA

This fire tornado seems emblematic of what the next few years may look like for immigrants.

I wrote a piece towards the hopeful end of the last Trump Administration. On Tuesday, the 2nd term begins, with threats of mass deportation, this time, with few guardrails to curb the madness.

August 2020 was a time of uncertainty and fear, like now. We were worried this exact administration would stay in the White House. In the end, we were given a 4 year reprieve, but now we are up against it again. The immigrant crisis, the fences and cages just south of me, reminded me of the holocaust, and the helplessness we felt about how to help them.

After a day program with Groundswell Community Project on the 31st of August, I wrote a piece after a Groundswell Community Project one-day program my friend and colleague, fellow PTI team member, Dr. Gabriella Hirsch and it resonates today even more than it did then. With the added Israeli/Gaza war, being Jewish has put strain on Jews like myself, that are not happy, and in fact are distressed about the political policies of Mr. Netanyatu, but also feel a deep connection to Judiasm and the threat Israel has been under constantly since its inception. Why is Israel forced into great compromise when threatened by terrorists who want nothing more than the elimination of Jews on this planet? Misinformation has produced pro-Palestinian protests, that are in reality anti-semitic, even if those protesting the horrors do not understand that fully.

I don’t know. This is not a story I can weigh on without more understanding, of a middle-east crisis that has existed since before I was born. I just know that myself and my Jewish colleagues are all feeling the confusion of what it means to be Jewish today. It hadn’t hit me until I went to see Bassem Yousseff, the Egyptian comedian. The hostage situation and gaza horror were in full swing, and when the lights dimmed, Mr. Youssef looked around the mostly arab audience and said “it is just us here, fuck Israel!”. To which everyone whooped along with and cheered. Fuck Israel. To me, I heard, “Fuck Jews”.

August 31st, 2020.

After today’s paddle out, my friend and colleague and I had a very deep conversation. We are both Jewish, both have lost family to the holocaust. After the joy we experienced in the water, we both felt the pull, back to the pain around us, that has been taught to us by our families. Engraved purposely. Passed down generation to generation.

Gabriella’s paternal grandfather was on the last boat out of Europe during World War II. Her great grandfather was a prominent Jewish doctor in Berlin leading up to this tortuous time. He had prepared two cyanide tablets for the expected day when the Nazis were to come. When they finally did, he took his pill and died immediately. His wife died 3 days later in a hospital after taking hers.

There are records of this

They were meticulous in their extinction. End all aberrance.

Her great uncle died while riding a bicycle in Berlin in 1938. He was shot in the head and died instantly.

There is a record of this too.

My family have no records. My mom travelled to Hungary to try to find the village her family was from, and was un-successful. I have heard from other family members since that there are some records, but my mom never did find them.

As we sit today, there are children in cages, families being separated. They are not very far away from us either.

It makes me think of the people who lived near the camps. They were living their lives, suffering as well, in a war-torn country not of their choosing. They were not all Nazis. They lived in fear as well.

Still, they were not being terrorized and starved and forced to labor in the cold, only then only to be cruelly gassed and burned.

Think about it. Just 3 blocks away someone is screaming bloody murder and living through a nightmare we cannot even fathom, and another family sits down to a war time rationed dinner and turns on the radio. That nightmare within those fences has so much power that it impacts us many generations after.

The people who lived outside the gate, ate war-rationed meals and lived on. They went quietly, forgetfully.

We went violently, systematically,

And we made sure to never forget. It is our mantra. Never forget.

We were in a fence once. We knew that there were people outside that knew we were there. Why couldn’t they help us? Why wouldn’t they help us?

Now we are them.

Outride the fence, feeling helpless.

Having the ability to take a morning like today and spend time with Mother Ocean feels wrong. We should be suffering too, we think. It is not okay to be content when 85 missing immigrant children were just found in Georgia.

But what can we do?

I don’ know. Obviously, we vote. Do we go try to help in more direct ways and face arrest? Do we really risk anything significant? I don’t know if I would, I feel bad about that. “I’m too chicken” I told my daughter. I tend towards fleeing as my survival id.

The easy answer and simplest one is that We can help each other, those in our sisterhoods, friendships. We can reach out further to friends from years past to get re-acquainted. Donate money to worth causes. Support and be supported.

But I can’t help but feel that maybe there is more I could do.

I put the flower in the water during the ceremony today when the wave was coming in, as directed, I was told that meant I was asking for something.

What I asked for was advice and support as to how to navigate living in this world right now. I both await and seek out the answer at the same time.

Gal Gadot, an Israeli woman, actress and philanthoprist. This picture is from Nat Geo, “Impact”. Episode 2, about Surf Therapy for Grief. Recent fires in LA have brought up a grief of a whole city, of a people who were getting messages of hatred of their beloved hometown, while they were dealing with a disaster the immensity of which could and has fueled many Hollywood Disaster movies.

The Grief of the LA Fires

The disaster in LA is an all too recent blow to a progressive city and state that based on the right-wing media, not only deserving of this disaster, but also at fault for it. “DEI”, said the media, “mismanagement of forests”. A gay fire chief? A female mayor? Most certainly it was that, not the wind above 50 miles per hour which produced fire tornadoes.

The grief of LA’s citizens is not well understood by those of us who don’t claim Los Angeles as our home. I have several patients from LA, and i learned just how distressing it was to be in that much fear and grief, and feel hate spewing out of the media. It felt personal.

I don’t understand this hate. My opinion is that people are jealous of those of us enjoying the life we have built in California, the high price we pay for property and the threat of fire always possible. There is a reason we do this. We live here because we love it, and I learned from my patients just how LA was coming together, its love for the city and eachother has created community across all sides of the political spectrum. We are at a tipping point. Will hatred win out? Or will LA come back stronger than ever. I vote for the latter. .

PTI will be offering free grief therapy for those affected by the LA disaster. We will also post an upcoming Sunset Grief Circle at Dog Beach, Del Mar. Contact us if you are interested.