How blaming my wife, and her refusal to blame me back, taught me what it means to love someone. Including myself.
It’s not just about politics. Controversies like this reveal a much deeper sickness that is overwhelming Americans.
Why we’ve got “Don’t confuse the Jews with Judaism” all wrong.
For the last year, I’ve given up my agency as a writer to others. No more.
Seeing our fellow humans do so much evil in the world has caused many of us to question their goodness. But what if there is a way to explain their goodness without denying the evil they’ve done?
A story about a kingdom going mad, and the painful choice the leaders had to make. And what this all means in a country where it often seems we are constantly trying to hold onto our sanity.
“Mentally ill.” “Traitor.” “Liar.” These are the words I have come to get used to hearing about my writing when it critiques my own community. Such attacks no longer concern me. Here’s why.
There is an philosophy infecting our country today: that in order to get what we want, someone else must pay a cost. It is this that is at the root of so many of our problems. And it must be combatted before it destroys us.
I’ve always cared a lot about abuse cases, especially in my own community. But as a man who has never been abused, the #MeToo campaign forced me to examine why I cared in the first place.
I started off angry at both sides. But the more I spoke with them, the more complicated the story became.