Whatever are we doing?

Whatever are we doing?

As humans, we have a long history of separation. It’s time to make peace with the price we pay for the killing fields. My memoir has already been written. Myopia, a memoir was published in 2017 by IP Books (International Psychoanalytic Books). When folks ask me if I will write another one, I look at them aghast. If it took me thirty years to write this one, what sacrifices would another one require? I cannot imagine. In any event, my thoughts on that particular topic have been exhausted. But as I reflect on the changes occurring in this country today, and then ponder the history of the world, I find myself devoting more blogs to the questions that arise for me. I am first generation here. My father fled from some of the worst pogroms in Russia. The family who...

A Few of the Wonderful Places Writing Takes Me: My Upcoming Book Talk with Anna Ornstein in Boston

A Few of the Wonderful Places Writing Takes Me: My Upcoming Book Talk with Anna Ornstein in Boston

This past Monday, Martin Luther King Day, my publicist, Carolyn Flynn, initiated a dialogue for me with Dr. Anna Ornstein. The connection came about through a conversation that Carolyn had with my publisher, IP Books, which suggested that I think about presenting and reading with Anna. She was not completely unknown to me through psychoanalysis and her publications on trauma, but I had no idea of the amount she has written. And I did not know about her book, My Mother’s Eyes: Holocaust Memories of a Young Girl, a collection of stories she read to her children over many years of Passover seders. Because I have read so much Holocaust writing, I was certain that I had read her book, but when I went to my Holocaust shelves, the book was not there. IP Books kindly...

DACA Dad: What If…?

DACA Dad: What If…?

My father did not become a citizen until he was an adult. He fled the Russian pogroms to create a better life. Gratitude can shape some pretty good citizens. My sister is now an activist and works for the rights of immigrants. I am so proud of her. I did most of my activism during the 1960s and 1970s, although I do sign many petitions and support special candidates and causes. We were on the phone chatting last week, when she said something that really made me sad. When I researched our father’s papers for Myopia, a memoir, it was the first time I realized that my father did not become a citizen until he was an adult. What the reason could be for this is only speculation. I am sure that they were too busy surviving to consider this issue. They had no money and...

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