Horror and hope beyond Halloween
Over the weekend, while out on a walk, savoring one of the last warm days of autumn, I came upon a fawn that had been struck by a car — so violently it had been split almost in half. Its little black hooves and its little face were still perfect, but what remained of its middle had become a red horror. Shuddering, I turned away from its ruined body. The fawn’s death seemed like yet another ill omen in a time of unrelenting darkness in this country.
Last week, Gregory A. Bush, a white supremacist, tried to enter a predominantly black church in Kentucky. Unable to get in, he left, then shot and killed two African Americans — Maurice Stallard and Vickie Jones — at a nearby grocery store.
In Florida, Cesar Sayoc Jr. was arrested after allegedly sending pipe bombs to former Secretary of State Hilary Clinton, Sen. Cory Booker of New Jersey, former President Obama and his wife, liberal philanthropist George Soros, and other prominent Democrats, as well as the news outlet CNN.
In Mexico, thousands of desperate migrants originating from Central America are headed north, hoping to seek asylum in the United States. At campaign rallies ahead of next week’s midterm elections, President Trump has demonized them, claiming that the travelers include gang members, terrorists and “very bad people” who are about to invade our southern border.
As I began walking home, my thoughts turned to errands: We had to carve our pumpkins, hang up the decorations, clean up the house and plan the menu for our Halloween party. But when I glanced down at my phone, I reeled again at the reports of a massacre at the Tree of Life, a venerable Pittsburgh synagogue.
Eleven victims — ranging in age from 54 to 97 — Joyce Fienberg, Richard Gottfried, Rose Mallinger, Jerry Rabinowitz, Cecil and David Rosenthal, Bernice and Sylvan Simon, Daniel Stein, Melvin Wax, and Irving Younger — perished in what may be the deadliest attack in history on Jewish people in the United States. They died on their Sabbath day at the hands of a modernday Nazi.
Robert Bowers shouted “All Jews must die!”and fired upon worshipers. Hours earlier, in a social media post, he had blamed HIAS — a Jewish refugee resettlement organization — for bringing in “invaders that kill our people.” He had added, “I can’t sit by and watch my people get slaughtered.”
Like Bush, like Sayoc, Bowers is a fan of Trump, whose hateful rhetoric has created a climate of fear and uncertainty. Extremists get riled up with conspiracy theories, such as a recent one that claims that Soros is funding the migrants traveling north. Yet the president blames the media — “Fake News ... the true Enemy of the People” — for the divisiveness that he himself has stoked.
Halloween is fun in part because it’s ephemeral: the spooky skeletons, giant spiders and bloody axes aren’t real. The scary masks will come off and the gory makeup will wash away. Starting the day after, all those ghouls, witches and zombies will be tucked away for another year, and candy corn will go to the sale rack — where it belongs.
By contrast, what’s chilling about the recent news is how such violence, hatred and xenophobia are a permanent fixture of American life.
This week, Trump — despite knowing what happens when he scapegoats migrants — continued his crass political plays: He sent troops to the border, to “defend” us against the families who are hundreds of miles away and whose numbers will shrink as the people straggle on the arduous journey. He also claimed he’ll use an executive order to end birthright citizenship. (In fact, Congress would have to amend the Constitution or the Supreme Court would have to overturn the 14th Amendment.)
The twins have heard us talking about the news, and we’ve explained, as best we can, about the pain and injustice in this world, the devastation that traces its roots to generations ago and persists until now.
The hope persists, too. After Didi and Gege sketched out the designs for their pumpkins, my husband and I cut them open and pulled out the slimy guts and seeds.
“Carve its mouth,” Gege said. “When you put a candle in, it comes alive.”
It’s a light that will last long past Halloween, a light that drives us to the polls; a light that glows over the interfaith gatherings that reject hate; a light that symbolizes every effort to get out the vote and fight voter suppression, to donate to causes and candidates; a light thin and flickering but one that does not go out in the deepest part of the night.
Halloween is fun in part because it’s ephemeral . ... What’s chilling about recent news is it’s permanent.