She looked like a perfectly lovely person. Wearing a long flowery dress with a wide-brimmed straw hat that had a matching pink band around it, she walked up to me and wished me Shabbat Shalom. “Are you by any chance Howard Feldman?” she enquired. When I confirmed that indeed I was, she uttered an expression that always fills me with dread. “Would you mind if I engaged you on something?” In my experience, no good ever comes from someone wanting to “engage” on anything. Because what it really means is that I have said something that has offended them, and they would like me to know just how appalling I have been.
“Sure,” I said, because I was taking a break from a long shul service, and I was curious which article, show, or podcast might have triggered her.
“Do you really live in such a privileged world that everyone in your sphere has enough money to debate between going to Plettenberg Bay and Cape Town for their holidays?” was her launching salvo. The background is that a few weeks prior, my column in this publication addressed our holiday insecurities and I used the “other side” idea to discuss this point. Clearly not everyone thought it hit the mark.
I paused. Looked at her freshly scrubbed, healthy, and pleasant face and said, “I’m sorry. You’re right. I neglected to mention those who travel to Israel, Thailand, and even Umhlanga. That was wrong of me.” “No!” was her retort. “That isn’t the point. The point is that some people can’t afford to go away. Things aren’t easy.”
Because she really was a kind and caring person, I explained to her that satire and humour needs to function on certain assumptions. So, if, for example, I’m writing something humorous about solar installations, if I must consider that there are people in South Africa who have never had electricity, I couldn’t write it. I couldn’t write about school lunches knowing that people in Syria don’t have schools, and I couldn’t write about runners when some people don’t have legs.
The result would be a dull and grey world devoid of sparkle. Which would be sad. Even for people who can’t afford Cape Town in December.
The flower-dress lady did raise a point. There are many in our community who are struggling. The cost of almost everything, the impact of the electricity crisis, and global pressures have placed an enormous strain on everyone. It’s tough out there, and no-one is immune.
Which is why it’s perhaps a good time to consider supporting members of our community if it’s an option. If we know a contractor, a service provider, or business, perhaps it’s a good time to give them a chance. Obviously not at all costs and not at great compromise, but if there’s an opportunity to assist, now is a great time to do it.
Often when a person in a flower dress and a straw hat “engages” me on something, it’s because they have been triggered by a vulnerability in their own life. I’m no stranger to that. Mostly I enjoy the reaction because it’s my job to encourage conversation. In this case, it gave me something to ponder, and taught me that remaining in shul during the service is a smarter decision than wondering around the campus.
