My Christmas

One more year, I am still alive, I'm lucky,
Again, I have my health, I'm lucky,
I'm celebrating Christmas one more time, I'm lucky,
I have my kids, my family, my friends, I'm lucky,

I still have a roof to keep me warm, I'm lucky,
I still have enough to keep me from hunger, I'm lucky,
I still have enough clothes to keep me from cold, I'm lucky,

I have no direct life threat, I'm lucky,
I can walk, see, hear, touch, I'm lucky,
I have a job, and many luxuries of life, I'm lucky,

Too many blessings and kindness in my life.
I do not always see them and feel thankful.
I tend to pretend it's all my personal effort.
I tend to take them for granted. 

Not today.

Today I wish a Merry Christmas to all those who lost a dear person,
To all those suffering lack of health and crying in silence,
To all who can't celebrate, for political, religious or fear reasons,
To all those who lost a family and will have empty seats today,

Merry Christmas.

Today I wish a Merry Christmas to all children and grown ups who have no roof to protect them,
To those who are under the rain, the snow, the cold, feeling left behind,
To those who are merely surviving,
to those who have no job, no food, no clothes, no love,

Merry Christmas.

To people in war, hatred, fear,
To those considered not worth a life,
To those in prisons,
To those in refugees camps, on borders,
To those jeopardizing their lives on boats heading to get a better chance,
To those who lost a country,
To those who lost their luck.

Merry Christmas.

For maybe today I see you, I feel you, my thoughts go to you...
But tomorrow, I might be you.

Meeting again, 22 years after.

It was yesterday...

22 years ago.

We were young women filled with dreams and expectations, eager to finish school and fly away.

We were the same class of girls in our school. Some of us friends since kinder-garden.

We left our seats for other groups of girls and spread our wings away from childhood.

Each one of us took a path. Some married their first sweethearts, some did travel...

Life took us away from each other. We wanted to see the outside world, the “real” life. We wanted to leave that childhood and youth behind. Life had a lot to offer and we were ready...

22 years after... one simple photo brought back a whole life. A single photo, posted by one of us. It was our school gown, the one we wore for years, filled with wishes and love written by all of us to each other, with drawings and hearts. We wrote those words on the last day of school, before going for good.

And suddenly, through social media, we started finding each other... Few days, and we were over 18 girls chatting online.

I insist on the word “girls”... We were women outside this chatting box, inside, we rediscovered the girls in us, still alive, still fun, still hilarious!

A reunion dinner was a must.

So, 22 years after, we did it, we met again.

22 years after, we're still the same. With life stories to share...

22 years after, we came back with a big number of kids, two divorces, one remarriage, one breast cancer (won battle), one dead child (lost battle), two single ladies, three living abroad, great professional lives...

22 years after, we came with tons of stories, some sad, many funny and happy.

22 years after, I was amazed to see myself discussing kids, labor, work, disappointment... with the same girls I used to talk dreams, expectations, love...

22 years after, it was yesterday.

22 years after, it was so long ago, yet so close.

22 years after, we are still those girls filled with hope, topped with a few years of experience, some wrinkles, few disappointments, big hearts, and wisdom.

22 years after choosing to go away, life brought us back together, through one simple school dress, to remind us that true friendship doesn’t just fade, doesn’t just go, and doesn’t need a daily reminder to exist. It’s just there. Period.

I Need a Break.

I need a break here. Need to stop.
I need a break from your anger, from your wrath.
I need a break from your sacred wars.
I need to pause. Take a breath.
I need silence.

I need a break from your hatred, your scary mind.
I need a break from the nightmare I see with open eyes.
I need to pause. Need a breath.
I need silence in my head.

I need a break from your killing, your explaining.
I need a break from your arrogance.
I need your silence.
I need to pause. Need to breathe.

I need a break from your theories, your ideology.
I need a break from your judgement, your philosophy.
I feel like choking, need to breathe.
I need your silence.

I need a break from your world, your colors.
I need a break from your black and your white.
I need a break from your wrong and your right.
I need your silence. Need a breath.
I need to pause. To forget.

I need a break from watching you, hearing you.
I need a break from suffering because of you.
I need to pause. Need to breathe.
I need your silence.

I need my sky, I need my dreams..
I need my innocence, my colors and my wind.
I need a long break. I need a deep breath.
I need a long silence.
I need to live.

Kaboom!

 

 Reuters

Kaboom!

I pressed the button.

Kaboom! I saw it go off. Bam!

Felt so strong. Felt so proud. I did it.

I watched the moment of silence that followed.

I stopped time for few seconds. Then everything started to collapse, people started to moan.

I walked away calmly. Tried to play scared on my way out. No one saw me, everybody was shocked, everybody was in disbelief.

If it wasn’t for my security, I would have told them I did it. I wanted so much to show off. To say I’m the one who stopped time. But as planned, I had to run quick, and reach my hiding spot before leaving this place.

Kaboom! The sounds and images keep playing in my head!

Kaboom! I broke lives.

Kaboom! I killed an "enemy".

Kaboom! What will follow is my aim.

Kaboom! I proved my beliefs.

Kaboom! I killed the threat.

Kaboom! And few more with him. Who cares?

Reuters

Kaboom! The price to pay for my beliefs.

Kaboom! They will become numbers with time. They will be the same old victims. Kaboom! Who cares?

Kaboom! I killed some kids. I can live with that knowing I reached “him”, I eliminated “him”.

Kaboom! The plan has been executed.

Kaboom! I did it for the "cause".

Kaboom! Sometimes we have to sacrifice lives along. Don't they all say that?

Kaboom! Now reactions are just as expected.

Kaboom!  They are calling for hate.

Kaboom! All over again.

Kaboom! So predictable.

Kaboom,! Right where we want them to be.

Kaboom! They started to fight.

Kaboom! They will be more and more divided.

Kaboom! Some will try to calm the game, but Kaboom again no one will listen.

Kaboom! Been there before.

Kaboom! I will win my case.

Kaboom! I pushed the button of hate.

Kaboom! Revived their trauma again.

Kaboom! They will answer as expected.

Kaboom! I stopped time, stole lives, ruined others. Took an eye, took an arm or a leg. Took a home.

Kaboom! Now they will fight who owns martyrs fallen on the ground. Will use them, shrink them.

Kaboom! Hate is so easy to trigger: one button. Ask me, I know.

Kaboom! They hate me, but will never find me. I'll be either dead or away. Who cares?

Kaboom!  Dead or alive, I win. I rest my case.

Lost women of Arab revolutions.

    We came from many countries, from the East and the West, gathered in Amman for a conflict transformation conference. We came to meet, to learn, to teach, to discover, to unite...

    We met after so many changes in the Arab world...Arab Spring, as some like to call it. We met in the middle of the turmoil. In the middle of the total makeover. In the middle of madness. In the middle of change.

We met while people are unleashing the beast inside them in many places. We met while men are playing war and women and children paying the price on the short and long term. We met while democracy of numbers is killing democracy ethics.

But we met.

It was a break time, a sharing time, a discovering time, a peaceful time, until one late night...

    We were out in the city, having non-alcoholic beer and watching a football match between Germany and Greece.  Cheering for Germany to please Lucia, our German friend on the table, while she supported Greece "their country is in crisis, they need to cheer up a little”.

    Few minutes later a half Jordanian half Palestinian girlfriend joined us with two other ladies. One, Syrian, with a lot of make-up and an unsuccessful plastic surgery but with a lovely smile, the other, Iraqi, younger, more corporate and reserved. Both blonds.

The game wasn’t over, but Germany was leading 3 to 1.The group wanted to stay a little more, I was tired. Lucia too. We were about to say good night and hail a cab, when the two newcomers suggested a lift, on their way back.

"Sleeping Girl" by Roy Lichtenstein

    Amman is a busy city at night, and traffic made the trip longer. Lucia wanted to know more about the region, about the people, and she started asking questions. They started telling their stories...We were at the back, it was dark. We were ears, just ears...then we became ears and hearts...

Make-up was out, smiles too, replaced by sad whispers of despair...

    The Iraqi fled her country few years ago, now lives and works in Jordan. Her homeland is too dangerous to live in. “People go out in the morning not knowing if they’ll get back alive”. Her Iraq is so close, yet too far... I couldn’t see her face, but I felt the tears in her voice. Then her silence...

    The Syrian is married, and lives in Jordan. Her family is still trapped on the outskirts of Aleppo. She calls her mom everyday to hear some scary stories. She can’t go there, they can’t come here. Her mom tells her to forget about Syria, she longs to go.  Crimes, mutilations, rape are her daily feed.

On the same morning her mom shared a nightmare with her: two bodies of neighbors floating in the local river... Her voice is sharp, loud, filled with anger and despair. Her only link to her country is telephone line. She lives through those invisible waves of sounds and words.

    The night became heavier. The city lights blurred. I was in a strange city with three strange women. Two blond heads in front with no country, lost in a remote city, trying to look good and alive, dreaming of “going back”. 

Two of many others, who asked for change, for democracy, who were everywhere. Two of many who were among the first to pay heavily the freedom they wanted. Two of many who discovered they were not welcome in the new Arab picture. Two of many who are scared to death for their security and their lives. Two of many who committed the crime of being women. Two of many afraid of rape.

I may become like them one day... I’m on the edge too.

    We became three lost souls in a strange city in my head. Lucia was our visitor. Our tourist. 

    When we reached our hotel, I ran out of the car with a heavy heart. Lucia was in tears, hugging both ladies with empathy.

In the elevator we stood in silence. When it stopped on my floor, she just hugged me and said :”what  a sad way to end a night!”

I smiled...thinking: “what a sad way to live a life”...

Mom Versus Woman

So, one day, you become a mom. You reach the peak of your life, the goal, the achievement, the meaning of life for women (...)

Hmmm. Mabrouk!

With motherhood, you get a fact... you don’t give it a lot of thoughts at first. You realize you have a new exclusive label: you’re just a mom now. You get the invisible label titled: mom. Even your first label: married woman fades away. But who cares! Isn’t it the natural path of life?

You find it fulfilling. You brag about it, you turn your whole life into Mothers Land direction.
You cut your hair to get the mom look, like all other moms, you defend your bouncing belly and your scars. You only talk about “them”, your kids, about how you raise them, how wonderful you are as a mom, how loving, caring, altruist, generous, self-denying person you became. You believe yourself when you say how wonderful it feels to give it all, to take the background seat, to loose all attention and enjoy the new center of your life, to become second, or third, or tenth...

You believe yourself when you say you stop everything about you, your work, your life, your love, and decide to become a feeding, loving, educating machine.

Everybody around you tells you how wonderful it is, how sacrifice is rewarding, how self –denial is the most fulfilling feeling. You are almost a saint! With less virginity.Your new image is just as everybody told you about your whole life! You fit marvelously!

It’s all true somewhere. Somehow.

Being “the mom”, sharing mothers code, mothers discussions, mothers fears... looks wonderful.  It’s a whole different world!

Suddenly, one day, something happens. You feel tired, you feel left behind, you feel you’re growing old, or getting fat... Something inside you tries to fight you.

A young girl with dreams awakes. A young woman with hopes emerges. Someone you forgot about tickles your well-established way of being.

Is it someone from your past? Is it someone you killed before?

You start to become bitter. You become aggressive. You even may become rude. You start to show a dark side through cruel sexist feminist jokes.

You realize that you missed a lot. You remember the child in you, that needs care. You remember the woman in you, the lover, the selfish, the sexy woman in you that needs love. You remember the human being in you that is not a saint, or a virgin. You remember the lazy person in you that needs rest, calm, peace...

And you feel guilty. Of course you’re guilty! You spent your whole life fitting in the image everybody told you about, everybody before you went through. And now that you fit, you want something else? What’s wrong with you silly woman? What is it that you want?

Women! They’re all the same! Don’t you just love that sentence? Women don’t know what they want! Look at you now! You have it “all”, and you feel bitter? You’re nuts!

So you hide your feelings, and decide to do something...

You start fighting the world your own way, by hiding your belly, exercising, changing hair color, wearing make up, filling your skin, shopping... You try to shout in silence to the world that you are still a woman, young and sexy. You try to remind the world that YOU exist...

Sometimes you look pathetic... sometimes it works for a while.

Or, you decide to fight yourself instead of the world, and you eat like there’s no tomorrow, you let yourself go, you merely look at the mirror, you hide more and more behind your sick altruism, and brag about your kids who left you long years ago, who ran away from you.

Or, you decide to fight your partner and your kids, the reason behind your feeling! It’s because of HIM, of THEM, “I gave you everything you bunch of ungrateful sick selfish family of mine!”. You really feel they owe you, they belong to you! You made this family! You forgot everything about you for them! They must shut up and kneel on your feet!

Your bitterness has no limits. Your “war” transforms you! You become a beast.

Self-denial, huh? Altruism, huh? Giving it all to others, huh? You really thought you’re a saint? You really thought you can forget about yourself and exist through others? You really thought it won’t affect you, huh?

You left nothing for you! You killed that young girl, that lover, that sexy, that dreamer, that lazy, selfish, cute, human being called “woman” in you! You are your own torturer! Your own criminal! Your own “bad guy”! Stop blaming! Stop arguing! Stop not living! Be a mom, but stay a woman, a lover, a selfish, a lazy, human being sometimes! Keep your space for God’s sake! And spare us your bitterness!

J'accuse!

Je viens de rentrer de la cérémonie de remise de diplômes aux élèves de terminale au collège Melkart. Je devais dire un mot au nom du comité. Mon mal étant très grand, mon inquiétude dépassant les pépins de leur avenir académique et professionel, j'ai accusé... Zola était là, en moi...

Jai crié ce que je considère être de loin plus important que les soucis de leur futur académique... J'ai crié ma rage. Mon cri a atteint les coeurs.. Mais pendant combien de temps? 

Voici ce que j'avais à dire...

"Voici venu le grand jour...

Enfin ! Fini l’enfance, l’école et tout ce qui va avec...

Vous voilà à un nouveau seuil de votre vie, qui ne sera pas le seul.

Et en ce jour, aussi solennel... J’accuse !

- J’accuse notre génération de baisser les bras...

- J’accuse notre génération de n’avoir pas réussi à devenir de bons citoyens...

-J’accuse notre État confessionnel, sectaire, marginal et pitoyable....

- J’accuse notre incompétence à accepter et tolérer notre pluralisme....

-J’accuse notre peur de “l’autre”, cette peur qui nous pousse à nous haïr et à retirer l’humanité de toute personne osant être différente....

- J’accuse notre violence passive et/ou agressive, qui n’attend qu’un prétexte pour émerger à tout moment...

- J’accuse ce que nous léguons à nos enfants....

- J’accuse la peur et l’ignorance qui nous dicte notre quotidien, et qui nous pousse à croire qu’on détient la vérité, que nous seuls avons raison, que nous sommes une race supérieure...

Chers diplômés, pardonnez-nous si par peur, par mauvaise expérience, par mémoire courte et par succession d’erreurs... nous vous avons légués nos idées toutes faites et nos préjugés saugrenus...

Pardonnez-nous nos gaffes tout au long de ces années...

Au seuil d’une nouvelle porte de votre vie qu’allez-vous être? Qu’allez-vous devenir?

Laissons de côté votre spécialisation, votre carrière. Vous avez un bagage riche pour vous permettre de faire le bon choix. Votre collège vous a bien formé, vos parents aussi....

Qu’allez-vous retenir ? Dans quelle direction allez-vous creuser ?...

Quels citoyens serez-vous ?...

- Allez-vous faire comme nous ?

- Allez-vous perpétuer notre peur de la diversité ?

- Allez-vous vous contenter de geindre tout en restant coincés dans vos positions ?

- Allez-vous comme nous, prôner la citoyenneté, pour la reléguer derrière votre religion, votre clan, votre région ou votre parti politique, que vous mettrez toujours en premier ?

- Allez-vous, comme nous, adorer votre tortionnaire ?

- Allez-vous, bientôt, perpétuer la tradition de porter les mêmes visages au pouvoir par peur du changement ?

- Allez-vous encore nous croire quand on essaye de vous léguer notre vérité ? Nos partis pris ?

Ou bien allez-vous vous révolter contre nous ?

- Allez-vous nous surprendre avec votre capacité d’accepter la diversité de notre société ?

- Allez-vous démolir ces murs de peur et de haine qu’on a savamment érigé entre nous ?

- Allez-vous enfin croire que tous, nous aimons ce pays ? Tous, sans exception, mais  chacun à sa manière ?

- Allez-vous opter pour la communication constructive sans préjugés ?

Ou bien allez-vous, comme nous, vous contenter de parler pour ne rien dire ?

- Allez-vous user de votre jeunesse, de votre bagage, de vos rêves ?

- Allez-vous prouver à notre génération souffrante, que nous ne sommes pas condamnés à perpétuer la peur et la haine.

- Allez-vous prétendre, comme nous, que l’enfer et les problèmes,  c’est toujours les “autres”, ou allez-vous nous surprendre?

Le changement commence en soi. La révolution la plus dure est celle faite contre ses propres préjugés. La course la plus performante est l’autodépassement

Vous avez des ailes. Déployez-les !

Soyez le changement que vous voulez voir dans ce monde...

Vous êtes au seuil de la vie adulte: prenez votre envol, et creusez votre humanité. Le reste n’est que détails.

Bonne chance !

Tania Ghorra