Learning the Names: Sayden al-Najjar
I am overwhelmed by the sacrifice of children all over the world to the greed of empire. The scale of the death, starvation and violence that we learn about daily has been bringing up feelings of hopelessness and powerlessness for me. I know that this violence is designed to make me imagine that I am separate from the people facing the sharpest cruelty from the oppressive systems of the world, but we are not separate. How can I lean into that connection, while acknowledging that the action I take today will not be “enough” because what I truly want is for everyone in the world to experience safety, nourishment, abundance and inspiration right now. How can I learn from this grief at a scale that keeps me honest? When I asked myself this question this solidarity process emerged. I said, can I at least learn the name of one child lost to this genocidal system every day. Can I learn one name? And the meaning of their name?
This is the poem I wrote today after learning the name of Sayden al-Najjar, a Palestinian baby only six months old who died as the result of an Israeli airstrike along with 8 of his brothers and sisters after his mother Dr. Alaa al-Najjar went to work to try to save other babies critically injured by the same incessant bombing.
a variation on joy
for Sayden al-Najjar
when you die in your sleep
too young to know the nightmare story
oblivious, i hope, to a world that says you
your drooling smile
your not-yet-toddling feet
are a danger that requires
all the force of a fearful world
when you are born
with a name that means
builder
in a region of earth
where every school, hospital, home
is a target for american funded and made bombs
when i remember
child of carpenter
al-Najjir
that you came to do miracles
and now you are gone
into smoke
without a trace
of the face your mother kissed
goodbye this morning
i wonder what
is the transubstantiated
meaning of joy
as i smudge your charred name
on my cheeks
as the ancient earth
falls
through my hands