Months ago, my mom randomly stumbled on a Christian radio station, and she was hooked! She has always struggled to find clean music she could enjoy that wasn’t riddled with promiscuity, curse words, or sexism. Miraculously, she found the answer to her prayer, in which about 40%-45% of the songs are aligned with our own faith. For context (to my new readers), we are Muslim, and in our faith, we believe in Jesus as a prophet and messenger of God—a mortal, not a divine being or son of God. So the songs about that, well, we enjoy the tune but tune out the lyrics. Or in my head, I convert them to love songs about the unicorn of a man I have yet to meet. You know, the loyal, sensitive, and supportive one.
Thanks to remote work and school, I rarely use the car these days—mostly errands, appointments, or poetry workshop—and today was one of those days. I was in a rush and didn’t have time to connect my phone and switch over to my playlist, so Christian rock was my soundtrack. No lie, some of these songs are hits and relevant to me in my own current spiritual journey. But what I dislike (what I dislike most about radio in general) are the banter sessions of the radio hosts. It’s why I also struggle to tolerate podcasts. Faceless people talking annoy me, and even more so when they talk idiotically. And today, I was reminded of this.
In between Jeremy Camp and Lauren Daigle, the host of the hour started her spiel. Apparently, the Stove Top brand, renowned for their Turkey stuffing and recipes, released apparel—specifically “stretchy” pants that enable Thanksgiving eaters to pig out comfortably in clothing that expands three or so sizes to accommodate their overblown bellies. The host then followed it up with serious recommendations of alternatives for anyone who didn’t want to buy clothes from a foods brand: sweatpants a few sizes larger or maternity pants.
I was appalled, heading to week six of my poetry workshop, and drowning in the deepest survivor’s guilt I have ever endured. On any given day, I can use a restroom whenever I need to, I have access to clean running water, I am allowed to crave a latte and satiate said craving, and I am blessed to have healthy loving family members I can share a home cooked meal with. A Palestinian friend of mine reminded me, Palestinians are teaching us how to live, and he is right. They are most certainly teaching us how to embrace gratitude, forgiveness, and the fact that life is too precious to neglect. And though these are not lessons I was unaware of—watching my dad die over the span of five months gave me eternally resonating lessons I’m still learning—they have been reinforced in ways I never thought I would have to witness: With almost six weeks of Israeli terrorism and ethnic cleansing of Palestinians with no action taking place to end it.
My morning started with three news reports on Palestine, none of which were western media outlets (because I’ve grown tired of biased reporting and/or lack of reporting). The first report panned across a line of premature Gazan babies in the NICU, crying intensely, without any resources or incubators. Yesterday, we watched the previous set of infants who passed being wrapped and buried. The second report featured a story of a Palestinian gravedigger who has grown physically and emotionally exhausted from all the burying his hands have done in 35+ days. The third report highlighted the conditions of the makeshift camps internally displaced Palestinians are now “living” in and how they’re faring with the current rainfall.
But halfway around the world, a Christian radio station is fixated on how to eat more? Financial Times and Business Insider continue to consider Taylor Swift breaking news? Timothy Chalamet and Saturday Night Live belittle an ethnic cleansing/genocide and dismiss the resistance of Palestinians born from 75 years of occupation in a disgusting insensitive joke? Academic and professional institutions continue to call for neutrality and/or punish those who speak out for true justice?
This is NOT one of those moments where life goes on. This is a revolution with still too many people on the wrong side of history.
