The Dialectics of Genocide and Peace

I’ve contemplated the genocide in Gaza—the weight of what I didn’t know, and what I wasn’t sure I had the right to say. As an American Jew, I’ve inherited a legacy of persecution and displacement. That trauma lives in my body, passed down through generations. I’ve also inherited myths—about safety, sovereignty, and Jewish supremacy—myths that have been used to justify the ongoing ethnic cleansing of Palestinians. This project reckons with both what has been done to Jews and what has been done in our name. In the continued violence against Palestinians, we inflict catastrophic harm—and in turn, wound ourselves. When a historically oppressed people becomes an agent of subjugation, something essential breaks: our empathy and moral clarity. We cannot heal without facing this truth and returning to values like Tikkun Olam—a tradition of repairing a broken world. The work juxtaposes grounded, autobiographical photographs with fragmented, abstract compositions. The straight photographs often center on my
husband and me, capturing quiet domestic moments: how we hold vulnerability, and how inherited trauma seeps into love in a broken world. By placing ourselves in the frame, I also implicate us in the systems this work critiques. We are not outside them—our tax dollars help fund genocide. The collages interrupt this intimacy, reflecting the confusion of living within morally untenable systems. They echo how trauma fragments memory, distorts clarity, and resists resolution. This is a project about grief, accountability, and care.