Dear Israelis (ex-fellow citizens),

CW: war, violence, military occupation, death, and complacency.

I am writing to you today with a heavy heart and an aching soul. Writing these words is difficult, knowing that many of you would feel attacked, or feel that I betrayed you, or that I don’t understand. 

It is with great sorrow that I’d like to direct your attention to a crucial part of the country’s reality. I am not saying our country, because – well, it doesn’t feel like it’s mine anymore, nor have I felt that I could belong there, or that my voice mattered, for years. 

I used to believe there was hope for change. Back when I was a kid watching teenagers wear white t-shirts with the slogan Peace Now, singing the peace song. But a lot has changed since those days, and my votes for peace-promoting parties have drowned in millions of votes for violent, militant, dividing parties. 

It hurts me that the basic understanding that Palestinians and Arabs deserve the same rights and opportunities that we do, is still up for debate. Actually, it almost isn’t up for debate, it is seen as plain wrong. The rhetoric that Arabs all hate and want to kill us, is so pervasive that I’ve been continuously nauseated over the last week looking at the news. 

We used to say that ‘by the time it’d be your turn, there won’t be a military anymore’ but now we’ve stopped saying it. You tell your children this is normal – that a military occupation, a stripping of human rights, a constant war or an impending war, death by rockets and racial violence, are normal and unavoidable. You ask children as young as four what they want to do in the army. 

You have been voting for parties that do only harm. Voices of those who want equality and to end decades-old violence drown, are ridiculed and are labelled as ‘Arab-loving’ or unrealistic. Meanwhile the world sees children losing their lives, families, hope for a basic, free, safe life. The Israeli government refuses a cease fire. 

Yet your children tell me ‘I’ve had enough of Hammas’, because your media only shows the damages on the Israeli side of the fence, and only if it’s far enough from it. The violence and dispossession of property in your cities isn’t reported about, or if it is, it is accepted, like a normal part of every country’s reality. You don’t make any sound about police, army or civilian violence against those who aren’t Jews. A small minority of you makes a little noise, but it isn’t loud enough, not even close. And the violence continues. 

This week you are attacking those with an international platform, like Gal Gadot, for not speaking up to defend Israel. Here’s a newsflash – YOU are doing absolutely nothing to defend Israel or ensure long-lasting peace. Most people do not see the current war as anything to worry about. The media presents it as an ‘operation’ and you all tell me it will be over in a few days. 

‘It’ won’t be over, because you do not speak up and make your leaders accountable, because you do not demand justice. Because you allow the government to be violent towards peaceful protesters. Because you keep electing a corrupt and violent prime minister for fifteen years. Your idea of an alternative is another military commander whose policy is exactly like the current government’s. You have let human rights, peace and equality be utterly de-prioritised.

You are promoting violence, with the absurd expectation it will lead to no violence in return. You do not make the basic connection between the military occupation, discrimination, dispossession, and racism, to the violence you and your children endure.

I’m tired of the expectation to defend your country when all you do is say everything is fine. I am tired of hearing criticism of my decision to live overseas, when life in the region is filled with a cycle of colonisation, violence, dispossession and hatred. 

I am tired of the complete lack of accountability. Everything is always someone else’s fault. Even when the Israeli government rejects a ceasefire, you are silent and blaming someone else. I am tired of hearing that you don’t care about the lives of those behind the fence, and are just happy to send your children to die there in the name of ‘the land’. 

I am exhausted by the toxic rhetoric that we cannot get along. I am exhausted by the decision over generations to ignore how our children are being indoctrinated against anyone who isn’t an Israeli, who isn’t a Jew. I am sick of the discrimination against Arabs, Muslims, and Palestinians. Of the racist jokes.

I am ashamed. It’s always been scary to admit I was born in Israel, or raised Jewish, but now it is plain embarrassing to let the world know that that is actually the country I’m a citizen of. 

I cannot ‘stand by Israel’ like the slogan running through social media is promoting, because Israel as a nation isn’t standing by basic human rights, and hasn’t been for a while. 

You wonder why Wonder Woman hasn’t been speaking up to defend Israel, but I’m not surprised. I can’t speak for anyone else, but for me, living outside of Israel, and wanting the war to stop, I feel helpless. I feel alone in the cause – because you don’t seem to want the same thing. 

If you really want the rockets to stop, if you really want to protect the next generation, and the next – start making noise. Start looking in and seeing the real problems. Start demanding change, start a conversation to make sure that everyone gets to live. And live free, and safe. Not behind walls and with guns to their faces, not in reliance on Israeli governments’ allowance of electricity or water. 

I am tired, and so is the world. The (still-alive) children of Gaza, the West-Bank, Jerusalem, Tel-Aviv and Ashkelon are tired, and scared. 

If you’re tired too, do something.

Liel K. Bridgford 

P.S. I know some of you would now label me as an ‘Israel hater’, which is a part of the huge problem. But I am writing this out of love – love for the people and children, everywhere. All children deserve a safe place to call home.   

Who Gets to ‘Save Lives’?

CN: ableism and internalised ableism.

Yesterday at work I got to critique an Australian health campaign for its accessibility. The video focused on cervical screening, and ended with ‘It saves lives’, although it doesn’t actually save lives. This made me reflect on how this euphemism is used, and who gets to be labeled as ‘life saving’ in our cultures? 

Medical health professionals are the first to be labelled as ‘saving lives’. It makes sense – doctors literally re-start hearts that stopped beating and prescribe life-sustaining medication. But we also use this phrase for tests, or even when a friend babysits for us. Today I’m proposing to expand your idea of life-saving.

Life isn’t just about staying breathing or having blood pumping through our veins. Despite what medical, ableist TV shows tell us, it also isn’t about being able-bodied, or funciniong in a spcific body shape. Life is about feeling things that make us human, and still want to get up in the morning. It is about grieving the loss of loved ones, or rip in anger and still keeping faith that humans are worth saving. It is living through intergenerational trauma and thriving through hatred, and all the isms around us – sexism, racism, antisemitism, ableism. It is about speaking up, learning, loving and birth and deaths and so much more. 

Because life is about all of those things, our definition of ‘life saving’ should drastically change. I have spend countless hours of my childhood in hospitals – under anesthesia, in rehabilitation, in check ups, in cast building. Despite this, my life wasn’t saved between those cold hospital walls. My mobility was the only focus of the medical health professionals. 

When I was discharged, after the major treatments for my leg were completed, I felt ashamed. I was hiding all the time and felt worried about what people thought when they saw parts of my body. I dealt with shame and stigma in silence, and I judged myself for being me. I craved acceptance from others but I couldn’t give it to myself.

Only when I started reading and listening to the stories of others like me, was when I could feel all the feelings, thrive inside my body, and feel truly and fully alive. My life was saved by Laura Hershey, Vassar Miller, Carly Findlay, Imani Barbarin, Eliza Hull, and other disabled creators and activists. Their stories and words was what allowed me to live in this body without shame, acknowledge the pain, and find a home in the world. Their poems, books, articles, songs and sentences have helped me finally embody an essential truth – that I am enough.

Of course we need blood in our veins and oxygen in our brains to function, but none of that would matter without stories, feelings, aches, joys and pleasures. Regardless of what our bodies look or feel like, connecting with other humans and feeling good about ourselves is what makes life worth living. Knowing that we belong, that we are accepted, celebrated and loved, is living. Helping any person to feel a little more safe, a little more loved or a little more whole, is saving a life. And as the Bible says, saving one life is like saving a whole world.

Stories save lives. [Image description: a children’s section of a library. Bookshelves are filled with colourful books and behind them a bright orange wall is panted with a tree, flowers, starts and birds. By the bookcase stands a colourful armchair.]

The spaces, the value, the money, the prestige that we assign to health professionals and creators are all too divergent. The work of a musician, a poet, a filmmaker, an artist, or an advocate, are just as important as the work of those keeping us physically alive. Who would have survived 2020 without movies, poetry, music, podcasts, or books?

In a world were hatred is still rife, where many of us don’t feel safe in our bodies, countries, or homes, hope lives in our stories. Through stories we can learn about ourselves and each other, and through stories we can create empathy, equality, and safety for all.

So I urge you to contemplate – who is saving your life, who is making your life worth living? I would love to hear your thoughts in the comments below.

Until next time, 

Liel K. Bridgford 

(Un)marginalised: S1, E6 with Jennifer Hankin

In the final episode for the season, Jen and I explore how the intersection between gender and invisible disability drives a person’s health, employment and education experience. We also talk fashion, music, the Australian disability support system, and what to do when people ask ‘how are you?’.

  • CW: ableism, mental health issues and family violence
  • For an exclusive bonus episode and to support the making of the podcast, go to https://www.patreon.com/LielKBridgford
  • Complete transcripts available on http://lkbridgford.com/unmarginalised-podcast 
  • If you need support after listening, you can contact Lifeline on 13 11 14. Outside Australia, you can find support here: https://www.befrienders.org

To continue the conversation, go to my Instagram https://www.instagram.com/lielkbridgford/ or Facebook https://www.facebook.com/lielkbridgford

Please note the views expressed by the interviewee do not necessarily reflect my own.

“To flourish as a person I can’t feel like I have to force my way into spaces. I need to feel like somebody had made that space for me.” – Jennifer Hankin on the (Un)marginalised Podcast.