A Letter to My American Friends: See Me

It was my birthday recently and a friend from the States called to wish me a happy birthday.  We have been friends since university and have always kept in touch. When I go to the States, usually we arrange to meet. She is not Jewish.

When asked that impossible question these days of “How are you doing?” my answer included the extreme ups and downs, the ongoing trauma of what we are experiencing here in Israel since the atrocities of October 7^th, the tension of listening to the news in the morning, hoping that no Israelis were killed –  soldiers or others by rockets from Gaza or the north, putting on my hostage dog tag, placing a new number of days of captivity of our hostages in Gaza on my chest, running in and out of shelters, working with the traumatized of the Nova Festival and Kfar Aza, helping them to tell their stories to the international community and how we feel that we were attacked twice — once by the inhuman monsters of Hamas and once by the world’s apathy, disbelief and even celebration of that horrific day.

Her response, “Yeah, that’s rough. And the 50,000 Palestinians who have died.”

Me: mouth agape. Wheels turning in my head. How do I respond to this? I am used to helping our diplomats and spokespeople answer the insensitive and jaw dropping questions of the international press, but what is the right response to a friend who truly loves me?

Maybe I could have explained that in sharing with you my fears and trauma, I expected you to focus on me, my children, my side. And, it’s even hurtful that you ask me to talk about others. I’m not saying that I don’t care about Palestinian lives, but, when I share my pain with you, my friend, be with me for a second, acknowledge me, see me.

Usually, it is only the Jews and Israelis who have to consider and express concern over Palestinian lives, not the other way. Rarely have Palestinians been asked to say, “And, it is also awful what has happened to Israelis.”

So, how did I respond, you ask?  Well, I did go into public diplomacy defense mode. “You know that we have to take those numbers with a grain of salt, right?  These are quotes from the Hamas ‘Health Ministry’. They do not include combatants as part of this number.  And they seem to know within seconds how many people were killed in an attack. “

“Yes, but the pictures we see in the news . . .,” she says.

I went on, of course, to explain that perhaps you don’t see that Israel does everything possible to warn civilians when attacking an area controlled by Hamas. No other country in the world does that. That Hamas puts their people intentionally in harm’s way.  They even shoot them when they come to collect humanitarian aid. And, the IDF is forced to protect them! On to John Spencer, the military expert who has explained that the ratio of killed combatants to civilians is the lowest in any war, ever. How can I express that we put our own children at risk since we don’t blanket bomb like everybody else, including the US?

Her response, “How are your kids?”

So, yeah, we went on to the personal stuff, the safe stuff.

How could this have gone better?  How about letting me talk about my experiences, my fears, my trauma and then respond with “Wow, that sounds tough.” And leaving it at that. There is this beautiful punctuation mark — the period. It’s there for a reason. Use it. Full stop. That is all I am asking. Ask about me, my family. You are my friend.

I guess what surprised me was how raw it all is. How the wrong prompt can throw me. How the trauma of living through October 7^th and its aftermath is still so strong. How little people know of what is happening here. How fragile my soul is every day hoping for good news.

So, I apologize for not handling this better – for not telling you exactly what I needed. How it is painful for you not to just be with me for a minute. Your friend of four decades.

I know you love me, your friend Linda. See me.