The Sun'll Come Out Tomorrow

Today feels unbearably heavy.

There was a mass shooting in Highland Park at the Fourth of July parade. That is a twenty minute drive from where I live. I teach students who live there. And just yesterday, I attended an Independence Day parade in Waukegan. If the shooter had picked a different parade, I could be dead today.

More to the point, all local events (parades and fireworks), including those in the suburb where I live, were cancelled. Our camp sent out an email telling us how to talk to our kids and informing us they will add yet another armed security guard to watch over our children. Chicago’s North Shore is not where you typically expect gun violence. The South Side? Yes. The North Shore? No.

But that’s not the only reason today feels heavy. The overturn of Roe vs. Wade has been on my mind.

Abortion is a complex subject. I’m friends with people across the spectrum- those who identify as pro-choice, pro-life and everywhere in between. I am very concerned, however, about states getting to determine when a fetus is considered a life. Today, Orthodox Conundrum released a podcast entitled ‘Abortion Not in the Abstract: Orthodox Women Share Their Stories.’ It is powerful, it is moving, and it made me cry. You don’t need to agree with all the women and their reasons to see the complicated and frightening position women are placed in when the state governs their bodies- and makes choices that may truly be in the best interest of their health a crime.

Because of all this, I wrote something brief.

EVERYTHING FEELS SO HEAVY

Everything feels so heavy lately.

How many ways can I die?

Well, let’s see.

Me personally?

I can die as a Jew praying at synagogue.

I can die as a teacher shot up at my school.

I can die at a parade shot up by a random gunman.

I can die if I ever move to a state where I need an abortion but it’s not an active medical emergency so they refuse to give me one.

But also-

If I’m the wrong race, I can die due to a misunderstanding.

If I’m a member of the LGBTQ community, I can die due to a hate crime.

If I’m poor, I can die because I don’t have health insurance and the ER doesn’t catch whatever I have in time.

And the list just goes on.

Everything is feeling really, really heavy.

I just need to find some joy.

Then I read an article about how to build resilient children- which focused on the need to teach hope. Actively teaching hope to those around you, and taking action that supports hope. For example, in the wake of the shooting, I heard that Highland Park Hospital and Evanston Hospital need blood donations. I like the idea of going to give blood- either there or somewhere else- in order to do my part.

The focus on hope made me think of the song “Tomorrow” from the musical ‘Annie.’

The sun'll come out tomorrow
Bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow
There'll be sun

Just thinkin' about tomorrow
Clears away the cobwebs and the sorrow
'Til there's none

When I'm stuck with a day that's grey and lonely
I just stick up my chin and grin and say, oh

The sun'll come out tomorrow
So you gotta hang on 'til tomorrow
Come what may

Tomorrow, tomorrow, I love ya, tomorrow
You're always a day away

When I'm stuck with a day that's grey and lonely
I just stick up my chin and grin and say, oh

The sun'll come out tomorrow
So you got to hang on 'til tomorrow
Come what may

Tomorrow, tomorrow, I love ya tomorrow
You're always a day away

Tomorrow, tomorrow, I love ya tomorrow
You're always day away

So that’s what I’m doing. Waiting for tomorrow.