Dear Readers,
I have been asked to write an opinion piece about my reaction to the terrorist attack in Boulder that took place on Sunday, June 1, 2025. I have been paralyzed to do so. Knowing I had to write this morning, I didn’t sleep all night. This morning I canceled my plans but instead of writing, played various games on my phone, made an elaborate breakfast, and engaged in other creative forms of distraction. I’ve been asking myself why this is so hard for me. I think I am still in shock. I feel like an ostrich whose head has been comfortably in the sand and I do not want to pull it out to face the harsh glare of reality. My emotions are charged. I am triggered and writing from a place of secondary trauma. I remember having discussions with my parents and grandparents about if the holocaust could ever happen again. I was young. I would scoff at them when they voiced their concern. They would wag their heads at me with a sad look that said, “You poor, naïve innocent.”
I was in Boulder on that day. I wasn’t downtown, but I could have been. I wasn’t at the march, but I could have been. I only found out what happened when my 91-year-old father called from Chicago as I was on my way home to ask if I was alright. I hadn’t even heard about the attack. I had been at a movie with a friend oblivious to what was happening just a few miles away. I raised my family in Boulder and was part of the Jewish community there. I know people who were at the march. Some of those who were injured are dear friends of mine. I am lost for words. My emotions are swimming all over the place: unbelief, confusion, feelings of powerlessness, fear.
In many of my circles, I am some people’s only Jewish friend. They come to me to ask how I feel about the war. How I feel about the blatant inequity of the treatment of pro-Palestinian protestors as compared to pro-Israeli protestors. As if being Jewish gives me greater insight into this horror of a situation. I am not a political person. I despise politics. I try to stay informed as best I can just to the point before it cripples me. I relate best to communing with people one-on-one and have devoted my life and career to finding common ground with those I come in contact with. How do I find common ground with this?
How do I feel? I feel fearful that I will be targeted for writing this article. I feel unsafe. I feel wary and untrusting. I feel protective of my family. I feel so angry that I have to feel this way. The best people I know expressed their horror, outrage, and sympathy to me knowing I am Jewish. Then in the next breath would say something like, “Well, it is horrible what Israel is doing.” Jewish people I know have expressed similar sentiments by questioning how they can be proudly Jewish during these times. This is the root of the problem. This is wrong thinking. Good, sensible people are buying the script that antisemites have perpetrated since the beginning of time. That somehow being Jewish is the root of the problem. Israel has existed for a mere 77 years since the end of the Holocaust. Judaism is one of the oldest religions/races there is, dating back almost 4,000 years with persecution dotting most of its existence. Do not confuse the two. Being Zionist does not mean you agree with the current political climate of Israel any more than being American necessarily means you agree with the political climate here.
I am not going to defend Israel. I am not going to defend Gaza. I am going to defend innocent people being targeted for simply being who they are whether that is Jewish, LGBTQIA, female, black, or any other minority that haters hate. This hit close to home. Do I feel it more than other hate crimes? Of course I do. Is it because I am Jewish? Because this time it could have been me? Yes, of course. People from my community, who I care about, have been targeted, hurt, and traumatized. There is a part of me that understands why I was asked to write this article and there is another part that resents that I was asked to write it.
When I had cancer and was about to lose my hair, I shaved it close to my head and carved in a heart in the back with the words “All One” underneath. Dear Readers, remember we are all one human race. Be kind to each other. Do not be afraid to challenge each other and to embrace our differences. I end with this quote attributed to Martin Niemöller. I have quoted it in my column before. It can never be referenced enough: “First, they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out – because I was not a Socialist. Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out – because I was not a trade unionist. Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out – because I was not a Jew. Then they came for me – and there was no one left to speak for me.”
Yours Most Truly,
Mrs. Hughes
About Mrs. Hughes
Mrs. Hughes is the pen name of Raizel Weiss Heizer, a licensed professional counselor, officiant, sacred passage doula and grandmother in Colorado Springs. She also has a background in the performing arts. Send your questions on life, love, money, parenting, difficult neighbors, or any sticky situations to dearmrshughes@pikespeakbulletin.org. No topic off limits, though publication is not guaranteed. Use a pseudonym if you wish.
Have a question for Mrs. Hughes?
Send your questions on life, love, money, parenting, difficult neighbors, or any sticky situations. No topic off limits, though publication is not guaranteed. Use a pseudonym if you wish.
