Guilt and Empathy

It’s been one month since members of Hamas broke through the Gaza-Israel barrier and killed 1400 Israelis, as well as taking over 200 people hostage, including children. Since then, Israel has continually bombed Gaza, resulting in over 10,000 Palestinian deaths, including over 4,000 children. The Palestinian-Israeli conflict didn’t begin on October 7, of course, although there are people who, some through innocent ignorance, some through wilful prejudice insist that it did. I’ve been informed, to a small extent, about the history of Palestine and Israel since my childhood. My Dad served in the army in WWII and was, during that time, stationed in what was then Palestine, so he spoke to me about the region’s history. As well as this, in my extended family, I’m related by marriage to people of Palestinian heritage, so I’ve come to know more about Palestine this way, and those family members, and their children, are a treasured blessing to me.

Ten years ago, my family hosted two teenagers from Bethlehem which I wrote about here and I’ve written at other times about my connections and feelings about Palestine. In 2016, on this blog, I shared tweets from Palestine Festival of Literature, which took place in Ramallah. Looking at those pictures now, I gain a sense of what life was like, some of the time, for some Palestinians. These images are very different from the images being shared from Palestine at the moment. More recently, I’ve written on Substack about poems and actions that have been informative and helpful during this turbulent time.

I’d like to think that I would care about Palestinians even if I wasn’t related to or knew any. I like children very much – my own children, and their friends; my nieces and nephews who I’ve known since they were born, and their children; other family members; children I’ve met and written with in school workshops I’ve run. The Israeli children who are being held hostage by Hamas and the Palestinian children being killed by Israeli bombs deserve the world’s care and support. The fact that there are SO MANY child deaths in Gaza and other Palestinian territories is reason enough to support a ceasefire, in my view.

Because of being rather ill (I’m starting to feel better now, I hope) I haven’t been on any marches since October 7 although I’ve marched to show support for Palestine at other times. I continue to write to my MP, to donate to charities working on the ground in Gaza and to make considered consumer choices where I can. It never feels like enough – it can never be enough. I find it impossible not to feel guilty that I’m living a life without hardship and pain when others are not. But guilt is a pretty useless emotion, isn’t it, and rather self-indulgent. I have allowed myself to switch off the news and to think of other things once I’ve written and donated and done the small empathetic actions available to me.

On Saturday, I met with others from Trowbridge Stanza, the monthly poetry group I organise, and I ran a workshop centred on the Penned in the Margins anthology Adventures in Form. There were ten of us, reading about, trying out exercises, writing and sharing fragments of writing that might become poems. The session was quite tiring but fun and stimulating, according to feedback!

There are still a few places available on the workshops I’m running in Bradford-on-Avon in November. Writing the Earth (November 14) is for anyone who would like to read and write more poetry about the natural world and the environment. Turning Up to the Page (November 25) is for anyone who would like to read more deeply and consider strategies for taking their poetry further. We’ll be reading, talking about, writing and sharing poems in both of these sessions. Some details here or do get in touch if you’re interested.

Apart from this, I have one more reading this year with my Live Canon pamphleteers. We’re reading in Taunton on November 18. Details and bookings are here.

I’ll end with sharing this poem by Taha Muhammad Ali. I originally found it on Bloodaxe Poetry’s YouTube Channel but this is a link to the Dodge Poetry Festival where this reading took place. I can’t remember how I found it, years ago now. I find it incredibly moving.