A Note on Disaster

I am keeping this very brief. I have a lot of thoughts bouncing around in my head, but I am just giving some food for thought as we all process the horrible situation in Los Angeles.

My life was forever changed by a national tragedy that altered the course of history. Many people I know had their lives changed by others: The Boston Marathon bombing, Hurricane Katrina, Superstorm Sandy, Sandy Hook. All of these events happened for different reasons with different results, but what they have in common is that they all irrevocably changed the communities in which they happened. It’s always a strange feeling when the world moves on and you have no idea what moving on even means now.

I saw in real time how 9/11 led to a co-opting and suppression of grief, and how it led straight to our current political moment. I think a lot about how it could have been handled differently. About what would have happened if we were not deceived by the EPA, which ultimately has lead to more deaths than the day itself. About what would have happened if grief hadn’t been twisted into rage and vengeance.

America sucks at grief. We saw that with 9/11. We saw that with COVID. We saw that with every mass shooting. And we are seeing it now.

Liz Plank

wrote a beautiful piece today about collective grief, and touches on a lot of points that I think about all the time:

Rage is easy! But real grief, is messy. It doesn’t fit into a cute slogan on a bedazzled poster board or an instagram carrousel. How we collectively mourn this, will shape not just how we process the losses of today, but how effectively we organize and mobilize for the future we envision tomorrow. This grief might be a group project, and the irony is that recognizing it as such may be our greatest source of strength. Healing together, grieving together, we may find new ways to rise together.

We were so focused on being strong that we never stopped to realize that the real strength is in letting yourself feel what you need to feel. That grief can bring people together even when the cause of the grief tore things apart.

On a personal note, many of my friends were directly affected, including my dear friend Barbara who worked at a school in the Palisades that burned to the ground. I am posting her GoFundMe here. I know there are many causes to support, but if you have anything to spare, here is the link.

https://www.gofundme.com/f/support-barbara-sheridan-after-eaton-canyon-fire

Feel free to link to other fundraisers in the comments.

Sending all of my love to Los Angeles. I am thinking about you every second. While the things I lived through are not exactly the same, I understand the shock, the fear, and the sorrow. And I also know that the worst days of your grief are still to come, as the losses become even clearer. Normal is not normal now, and there won’t be a “normal” for a while. Let yourself cry and grieve. It’s not a sign of weakness, nor does it take away from anyone else who may have had it worse.