A Loss of Innocence

With the current trends in our world, which I doubt I need to pontificate, I find myself contemplating one facet. Possibly with selfish intent, but as I see events like what occurred in Charlottesville and the sequential reactions of not just a nation but the world, I find myself growing introspective, questioning my own loyalties, ideologies, and even aspirations. That’s not to say I agree with anything which occurred. As I said, I’m not actually going to express an opinion, but I will reassure you, dear readers, I do not agree with what happened. That much I owe you.

What happened in Charlottesville is a vile, disgusting thing which causes me to weep for the sake of humanity, not because I’m some illustrious sage or saint, but because I too am human with the same weakness, the same darkness, capable of the same evils, the same hate. I weep because the pain is just too much. I weep because there is no other response which I have.

And in my sorrow, that is where I begin to ask my questions. After the tears, I come to that still, quiet place and allow my soul to speak. It begs to know, “Am I like them? If so, how much? What am I? Has my innocence been so destroyed I no longer have hope?”

I find myself questioning my innocence, or rather the supposed loss of it, for I grew up in a culture which praised the innocence and purity of young girls blossoming into women. So concentrated was the fixation that should anything which would be a taint on their precious reputations, it would only beget shame and scandal, no matter how petty or insignificant. I was one of those tainted girls.

At too early an age, I questioned such restrictions, for their execution was suffocating, suppressing the me of my being which was so much more than a body or a mind to be upheld, or rather confined, in a box of esoteric cleanliness. Since, I have come to uphold and praise them, understanding them as they always should have been understood, not ironically tainted by those who enforced such skewed ideals upon me – but only because of what I have lost.

It is a strange thing to gaze at one’s soul, as if you can hold it in the palm of your hand and see the specks of darkness or light which emanate from it, not unlike in the TV show Once Upon a Time. (Of course, I’m being abstract. Please don’t think I have mastered the art of ripping out my heart or something equally grotesque.)

However, the box of innocence I found myself culturally trapped in is a petty version of what innocence truly is. Innocence transcends the physical, permeating the mental, emotional, experiential aspects of who we are.

Around age twenty-something, the younger end of the decade, I was angry at G-d. Vehemently. Why? Because I didn’t want to grow up. For me, growing up was about losing my innocence, an innocence I was taught to protect, cherish, and defend at all costs. Only, my physical innocence – which I fought to restore, and have reclaimed – was already taken. Thus, what I did not want to relinquish to this raping world was my heart, my mind, my soul. And I was blaming G-d for such problems. I was blaming Him for not rescuing me and keeping my extremely narrow view of the world protected from the darkness which lied outside my precocious, pretentious bubble.

Like so many accuse about my generation, admittedly I had a rather Peter Pan view of reality, but not because I didn’t want to “grow up” by getting a job, paying bills, trying to maintain some sort of healthy lifestyle, and taking on all those other “responsibilities” “Life” has a funny way of throwing at you like a pitcher’s killer curve ball. Believe me when I say I never had any intention of staying at my parents’ house like some sort of hybrid adult-child for the rest of my unforeseeable future, which so many people mistakenly say about us “millennials” (or whatever they criticise us for).

Rather, to me, leaving this “Never Never Land” I had mentally created in my mind was about leaving the carefree innocence of childhood behind and facing, sometimes embracing, the perils and evils which lurked outside in the “real world”. Everything about adulthood screamed at me as a resounding cacophony of so many dashed dreams, hopes, and childhood wishes which had been violently murdered and pillaged by what society calls as “growing up”. In other words, it wasn’t innocence I was afraid of losing, but hope.

I think what’s so beautiful about children, in their innocence, is they have so much hope. Hope for beauty, goodness, and peace. Hope that there exists a place where good triumphs over evil, where people are not self-aggrandising or self-preserving, but show deference and compassion to one another; a place where everyone is safe.

For my generation, especially us Americans, most of us were told at a very early age such worlds do not exist when we saw in fire and ash two Twin Towers crumble into utter ruin, with thousands of lives trapped inside, and the sequential consequences which ensued.

So of course we clung to our faerie stories, our childhood heroes like Peter Pan who told us there was a place we could escape the evil in this world, where we didn’t have to grow up and face such atrocities, where the pain would magically go away.

And yes, I think some of us are still trapped there by our own stubborn wills. However, I think most of us are not. I don’t think we “millennials” get enough credit because though some of us accept the reality that this world is dark, we refuse to let the darkness win. We refuse to give up hope.

That is why something like the hatred which fueled the acts of Charlottesville will not win, I pray. I pray that whatever good is left in this world, Hashem will uncover and blow upon these embers of our frail hope, for as Samwise Gamgee said, “There is some good in this world, and it’s worth fighting for.”

There is a concept, an ideal, which I and many others strive towards. It’s called tikkun olam, or repairing the world. It is done through selfless acts of kindness, for it was to us humans domain and sovereignty was given over this world. Yes, we screwed up, and it was cursed, but it is still our role and duty to maintain and repair it until Mashiach comes.

Until then, let us rebuild this world. Let us fight, and above all, let us not give up hope.