It’s International Holocaust Remembrance Day, which means I am thinking more than ever today about all the people who died because their neighbours looked the other way when the murderers came, or because their neighbours were the murderers, or because their neighbours sold them out to the murderers.
“It’s not that bad, it’s just talk” always becomes “well, someone will do something” always becomes “we’ll be fine, this isn’t our problem” always becomes “well someone else will do something” always becomes “well they should have said something” always becomes “those people deserved it, they’re not like us, they weren’t good people” and on, and on in an endless trail of revisionism and abdication.
Last week dozens and dozens of people with whom I’ve worked and whose work has made mine better, has made me better contended with a stream of harassment and mockery and hatred while the CEO of the platform enabling their disparagement mused on his intermittent fasting / acceptable disordered eating.
On we go. Somehow. But for a certain value of “we”, we dare not assume someone else will make sure we get there.