I cherish Saturday mornings with my family. Hot coffee, a little snuggling, and maybe a dance move or two: nothing beats it.
This weekend, my Saturday morning sanctuary felt safe, warm and alive, just a few moments before I turned on the news to discover another deadly mass shooting in America.
As much as school shootings are deeply personal for us at Move This World, the murderous attack at the Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh hit very close to home. As a young Jewish woman starting a family, the thought of so much death and destruction at a place of worship is terrifying.
I am stunned, horrified, and scared. I feel frozen, overwhelmed by how much work we have to do to shape this world into a better one for my daughter and her generation. I am paralyzed by fearful reminders of the early 1930s and the terror it brought upon us.
This attack on public life goes against everything we work toward and cultivate in our children. It is the antithesis to who we work to become.
In a world where technology connects us more than ever, you would think the kind of access we have to each other now would inspire us to build a better, more connected world. Even though we are more connected to information than we’ve ever been, we’re more disconnected to each other than we’ve ever been. We have the potential to use technology to better understand one another. Instead, we are tearing each other apart.
If any member of our Move This World family has been personally affected by this tragedy, our hearts are with you. The wounds are open for all of us. We grieve with you, and we hope that as time passes, we as a nation will grow stronger, more tolerant, more empathetic.
We are committed more than ever to the values instilled in us: the appreciation of dignity in each person, the hope and optimism for humanity, the opportunity for all of us to feel, connect, and persevere with love, light and peace.
In sadness and solidarity,
Do not be daunted
by the enormity
of the world’s grief.
Do justly, now.
Love mercy, now.
Walk humbly, now.
You are not obligated
to complete the work,
but neither are you free
to abandon it.
– The Talmud