We’ve asked Karyn Schwartz, owner of the Sugarpill apothecary on E Pine, to contribute to CHS about health and Hill living on a semi-regular basis. If you’re an expert and want to share with the community in a recurring CHS column, we’d like to hear from you.
I missed another entire season of summer movies, except for one breathtaking film entitled “Tangerine” which ended with one of the most poignant and heroic gestures of friendship I have ever seen depicted on a big screen. It made me think about some of the real heroes of my summer, including:
The woman who dressed in a formal dinner jacket, with cufflinks on her shirt and impeccably shined shoes to deliver a picnic, served on fine china, pressed linens and crystal water glasses, to a friend undergoing chemotherapy.
The veteran soldier who held a woman’s hand until help arrived after she fell asleep at the wheel and never even knew her car hit the side of the truck he was sleeping in before dawn that morning when she nearly died; the people who cut her from her own vehicle and got her to safety; the surgeons who repaired her broken body after she held their hands and insisted on saying a prayer of thanks with them before they began to operate. She, herself, who chose to stay on this side of life, despite the pain.
The servers at the diner who took care of the drag queen who was assaulted by a half dozen straight people in our queer neighborhood during Pride. That very same drag queen who spoke up for herself and told those half dozen drunken idiots to get the fuck out of the neighborhood if they could not manage to be decent human beings, even though she was scared.
The woman who would not allow any of the customers in her shop to berate themselves while they tried on summer clothes and looked at their own human bodies reflected back to them in the mirror.
The men who got married 25 years after most of their friends had perished in the early days of the plague, long before they dreamed anyone would stop hating them for who they were, much less that they would ever be allowed to marry. The Justices who finally made that possible throughout this country.
The young people who looked into a treacherous and uncertain future and decided to try with their lives to make the world a better place instead of checking out.
The people who might never need an abortion but still fought for every woman’s right to have one. The people who delivered healthcare with compassion and without judgment, even when it put their own lives in danger.
The people who did not care if you thought the way they chose to fight for freedom and justice was “correct”, because they knew that freedom and justice are necessary, and have not been handed out equally and so must be fought for and demanded, even at the expense of your comfort. The ones who challenged your understanding at the risk of losing your friendship, because lives continue to be at stake and they still want you to be an ally even when you cannot comprehend the emergency.
The people who didn’t forget the others who are locked away – far away – from any meaningful access to their own basic human rights, and continued working to change systems and laws that favor jails over schools, imprisonment over social services, cruelty over healing and isolation in place of connection.
The people who are still putting their bodies in front of fires. The people who are still helping each other during those fires, even while their own homes, landscapes and livelihoods are uncertain.
The judges who were merciful. The police who were humane. The politicians – rare they are – who took risks to lead with an actual moral compass. The teachers who were not discouraged and took extra time to explain.
Everyone who managed to stay hopeful. Everyone who remained kind. Those who did no harm, and also those who did but owned up to it and made it right.
The person who believed it when someone said, “I’m sorry”. The person who forgave.
The person who told the truth.
The person who took a chance to love again.
These are just a few of my superheroes. Tell me, who are yours?
