i wish i knew an appropriate ritual. i wish i knew the kaddish. i wish i knew something that i could do besides give blood. i am in mourning for thousands of people i never met. and i still keep waiting to wake up. i want to cry and scream and wail. to make sense of something.

and what if this is war? my little brother is 21. and i am just barely old enough to remember guerilla warfare in south america, and the aftermath of vietnam. my best friend wore a yellow ribbon every day of the gulf war. war is always atrocious; nothing will change that, no matter how necessary and warranted. is my niece going to grow up hating the sound of fire whistles, like my mother? (i will not ask the question in the back of my heart, because i have to believe that she is going to grow up).

and muslim americans are being stoned in the streets. have we all gone mad? world war I--germans harrassed everywhere. world war II--japanese-americans in internment camps. please please never again. it is not an entire religion responsible for this, or an entire ethnic group. vigilante retaliation won't bring anyone back.

``We the Palestinians are human beings and we don't celebrate when others are mourning,...Although Israel hits us every day with American Apache helicopters and uses American weapons to kill our people, we send our condolences to the families of the victims.'' --42-year-old housewife Amal Qassem from Bethlehem.

dona nobis pacem. -beatpoetgrrl

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