Hate - 060

 
 

Date Night

This month, Lauren and I were mad at each other.

As I've shared before: our days are full. Working, getting dinner on the table, and putting the kids to bed. So we don't have lots of time to resolve our tiffs.

But on a Sunday, I arranged a drop-off playdate for Golda during Abe's nap so Lauren and I could talk.

The air was cleared.
Things were smoothed over.
Another cliche about being less heated.

Two days later, we planned a coffee date after dropping the kids off at school.
Sitting across the table from each other, we talked about work, we joked about our family, we fawned over recent videos of our kids.

And I realized:
Oohhhhh! We don't actually hate each other.

This month, I'm thinking about hate.

I learned recently that because Facebook, Instagram, and YouTube (among others) make money the longer you're on their site, they prioritize titles and captions with the word "hate" in it because it's more likely to upset you. And when you're upset, you engage with the content.
Ugh. I hate that.

Why are we so quick to hate? To respond to hate? To meet hate with more?
Let's dive a little deeper, shall we?

 
 

Jewish Geography

Over the summer, my daughter took a picture with a friend from school.
His mom posted the picture and tagged me, then four people liked it: my dad, her dad, and two people I grew up with who apparently know us both.
The strange thing is not how unusual that is, but actually how common it is.

It's a game that we play all the time– Jewish Geography.

You grew up in Chicago (ok, actually Highland Park)? Do you know Karen Hoffman?
You're from Detroit (fine, West Bloomfield) do you know Jason Melvin?
You're from North Jersey (Livingston, I presume). You must know Andie Schwartz.

It usually works.
We DO know a lot of those people.

Research has proven that six degrees of separation is real.
All of us are actually connected to literally anyone else on the planet with just about 5 introductions or less.

So when that JCC in Montreal gets firebombed,
When that synagogue in Pittsburg gets attacked,
When that protester in LA gets killed,
And when hostages are taken or released in Israel
these strangers across the world are not just names on the news...
these are people I know.

And you probably do, too.

The world is small.
We are closer to each other than it can sometimes feel.

 
 

The Harder Option

I've been learning more about my family.
For decades, my dad's brother has been ostracized from the family for a misunderstanding in the family business. Over the years, this misunderstanding on both sides has snowballed into a mythology of hatred.
The family has split.

The news lately seems weirdly connected to this family story.

All of the hate feels like it's coming from the same place:
loneliness.

Not like "I have no friends" lonely.
More like "no one understands my suffering."
As an individual. And as a people.
"And because no one understands these sacrifices I make, I need to lash out.”
”Blame the people that don't see me.”
”Hate them."

Perhaps hate is just a form of expressed loneliness.

Think about the last time you hated someone.
Ghosted. Or cut someone off.
Was it because–in all of your hardship and struggle– that wasn't seen?

In a way, hate is the easier option.
Because the other choice is to forgive. Understand. Listen. Humanize.
To see and actually recognize that we're all suffering.


One thing that has given me hope this year is to see other humans choose the harder option.
When people choose to put aside blame and vengeance and hatred, amazing things happen.
We're one meal away from better understanding our enemies.
We're one phone call away from healing a broken relationship.
We're one hug away from re-connection.
One choice away from overcoming hate.

 
 

People Are Not Their Country

One of the scariest videos I saw this month took place at an airport in Russia.
As a plane from Tel Aviv landed, hundreds of people stormed the terminal, broke down doors, and forcefully made their way onto the runway, chanting antisemitic slogans.

Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu was not on the plane.
Nor were the leaders of the Israel Defense Force (IDF).
It was just a group of civilians traveling from Israel to Dagestan, Russia.

We– and I'm including myself AND YOU in this group– are easily confused.
We often conflate people with their leader. Or their country.

Let's take this example. "Russia has invaded Ukraine."
No wait. Countries can't actually invade each other. Countries are abstract concepts and geographic regions. They can't DO anything. So what's happening is actually "The group of individuals that rule Russia is attacking the sovereignty of the organization that leads Ukraine."


It's not just semantics.
Conflation is dangerous.


If we continue to have headlines like this and don't stop to critically think about separating the people from the leaders and the country, we will blame things that merely come from that place (like a plane full of tourists).
Or protest and destroy things merely associated with the place (like a synagogue).

It's a way to justify the mistreatment of huge populations.
It's the root of racism, antisemitism, islamophobia, and hate.
It's dangerous to conflate Netanyahu with all of Israel.
With anyone on an airplane that comes from Israel.
With anyone who is Jewish.
Equally, it's unfair to equate a Palestinian with all of Hamas.


We must catch ourselves when we’re making judgments and statements about groups of people.
Instead, we should pay more attention to the actual people.
Conflation is dangerous.

 
 

3 Questions To Un-Hate

1. What could make something you hate better?
Public bathrooms could be so much cleaner and nicer with just a little bit more effort and education. A sign about respecting the communal space, for example.

I love this question because it forces you to change. To do something about it and not just continue to hate but to realize that your hate can be shifted with something small.

2. What do you love now that you used to hate?
I hated naps. I used to think of them as a waste of time. Power through. Caffeinate. Sleep when you're dead. But now, I so appreciate a good nap.
A boring night of staying in to watch bad tv, too.

The question is perfect for starting a creative conversation because it implies that you can change your mind. Something you used to hate is now actually something you love. It means that the people, places, and ideas that you avoid are all potential future loves. How cool is that?

3. What do you love that most people hate?

For me, it's getting into a hot car in the Summer.
Or maybe awful puns.

It's a great question because it implies that you're not on any bandwagon. You've got your own strong opinions, regardless of what is seen as "normal."

What's your answer? (reply!)

Ask it next time you want to get to know someone better.

 
 

Hate is not a topic I thought I'd normally give my time to.
But I believe art is meant to reflect and react to the world around us. Here's a little reflection. Thank you for opening up this refrigerator and spending time with me and this topic.
I’m grateful that you read this far and always love hearing your thoughts if this sparked anything for you.  Until next month.

Refridgeyalater,

Jake



Hey it’s me again.

If someone forwarded this Email Refrigerator and you'd like one every month, sign up here.
Read the last 59 issues here.
If  you hated this email, just click here to change your settings. I'll hate you forever. Kidding, no hard feelings, really.


The email refrigerator is a monthly delivery of essays, poetry, imagery, and thoughts, written and curated by Jake Kahana. Why a refrigerator? Well, it's where we look for snacks, a little freshness, and where we hang the latest, greatest work. And besides, "newsletter" sounds like spam.

 
Jake Kahana