The Blessing of Belonging

A reflection on identity in a time of crisis

It took me a while to write my newsletter this past week because I didn't really know what to say. I drafted something about sports and education that I'll probably post next week, but truthfully, it seemed too light during a time that has felt so heavy.

I am Jewish, and while I don't want to get into the broader Jewish experience over the past year and a half, I do want to share my thoughts about the recent hostage releases. Each weekend, I see videos of hostages returning home, of children reuniting with their parents. I think about the unimaginable anguish of their separation, the unimaginable joy of their reunion, and even the tiny fraction I can comprehend of their emotions is enough to be completely overwhelming.

Parenthood is perhaps best defined by profound vulnerability and fear, making all stories of separated families devastating. But as a Jewish parent, last week intensified that vulnerability beyond measure. I see Shiri, and I see myself. I see Ariel and Kfir, and I see my own children. The weight of it is crushing. And, while my heart aches for all suffering parents and children, it breaks differently for them. And that's okay. It's the very essence of identity. I identify with them. We are the same.

My ability to mourn for these strangers with whom I feel such a deep connection is actually a blessing. It means my identity is affirmed. I can reach out to family and friends to share this grief. I can express it at work. This sorrow is acknowledged, validated, and shared. It binds us together. We are the same.

And it makes me so happy to see this identity taking root in my children, too. My sixteen-month-old son does his "bim bam hands," and his face lights up, his smile revealing all eight of his tiny teeth when I sing Shabbat Shalom HEY. And my daughter, who looks forward to joining her friends at religious school each week, speaks eruditely when she explains the difference between a keppe and a rosh. They're developing an identity that is validated, that connects them to others.

As a psychologist, I know that this is a good thing. Developmental psychology research consistently shows that strong, affirmed identities foster resilience. In American society, assimilation is valued, but in truth, people are healthiest, happiest, and most productive when the things that make them unique–when the different aspects of their identity–are maintained and celebrated.

Looking around at the erosion of identities–through rhetoric and social pressure, through policies and laws, through violence–I know this isn't the path forward. As a Jew, I believe tikkun olam–repairing the world–can only be achieved by allowing everyone to exist authentically. While I don't claim to know exactly how we get there, I wish that every child can find their own version of bim bam hands: to know, feel, and love who they are in whatever way is meaningful to them.

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So excited that Waitress is streaming on MAX and has become my daughter’s recent favorite.