What will we say we did?

Months, years from now, when people ask us, what will we say?

What did we do while the Palestinian people were slaughtered?

How did we step up, as human beings, in our shared humanity, to make a difference?

Did we show up, in person, at a protest or a vigil?

Did we show up online, on social media or by signing petitions?

Did we show up politically, by contacting our local representatives or voting with empathy?

Did we show up financially, donating to fundraisers and charitable organisations in Palestine?

Did we show up in our personal lives, having challenging conversations with friends & loved ones?

Did we show up in our professional lives, using our power, platform & privilege to help raise awareness?

What will we say we did?

What will feel like “enough”?

Last week, a Palestinian woman told me she loved me for all the work she sees me doing, and yet I was shocked because genuinely felt like I was doing the bare minimum I could do as a human being. I still feel like I am not fully showing up as my most impactful or powerful self. I feel the many obstacles thrown in my way and I envy the student movement their freedom of expression. I resent the students who don’t take up that opportunity. I resent the people who don’t use their voice. The ones who choose comfort over courage. The ones who rationalise all the reasons for their reticence.

How nice it must be to be able to cut yourself off from human suffering, to be able to look away while children’s bodies are ripped apart by weapons sent from the US and UK, refuelled through our own Irish airport in Shannon.

Their blood is on all our hands.

What will we say we did?

Will anything ever be enough to wash our hands clean?