About this series:
Beauty in a Broken World is a collection of essays, poems, music, photography and spoken word generously contributed by a Harvard Divinity School student cohort led by author and Utah native Terry Tempest Williams, to bring solace and solidarity during the coronovirus pandemic.
hat can I say to you? I don’t know anything.
Writing anything to you feels like making a promise that I know I can’t keep.
It feels like I’m telling you, “I can help you. Listen to me and it will help.”
How could I tell you that?
I don’t know anything.
What can I say to you?
We all need help right now. We all need to be lifted up.
If I try to lift you up, I’m afraid I’ll drop you and you’ll hurt even more. That’s what I’m afraid of.
“Every cloud has a silver lining.” That saying sounds so hollow right now. What if I try to show you a silver lining but it’s only tin foil and it tears when you touch it? You deserve something that will not tear when you touch it. You deserve someone who can give you that. I don’t know how to tell the truth and comfort you at the same time.
I don’t know anything.
“If you don’t have something nice to say, don’t say anything at all.”
I don’t know how that saying sounds to me right now.
I’m afraid I won’t be able to help you. I’m afraid that whatever I could say might make this worse for you. I’m afraid I don’t have anything nice to say, and I often wish I could say nothing at all, and often I don’t say anything at all, and I’m ashamed of myself for that.
I’m afraid that I don’t have anything good to offer you—anything to offer you that will help. You deserve someone who can offer you good, offer you help, lift you up and keep their promise not to drop you. I don’t know how to say anything other than I’m afraid and I’m ashamed of myself for that. And so often I wish I could take a vow of silence and say nothing until all this is over. I wish I could listen to you and say nothing back, and in my fear I wish listening and silence could be enough, but I don’t believe that they are. What can I say to you?
I’m trying to practice telling the truth.
“Every cloud has the potential for rain.” I don’t mean rain as a symbol—I just mean rain. Depending on factors in the air that are beyond me, it could also be snow. It could be lightning. It could be nothing. The forecast might be right or it might be wrong, but when the rain does fall, you can touch it and it will not tear.
You can touch it and it will not tear you.
I do know that.
Mark your calendars for February 1, 2024! The Resiliency Center and the Center for Health Ethics, Arts, and Humanities are gearing up for the sixth Healthcare Stories event at Kingsbury Hall. This year's captivating theme, "Promise," invites healthcare professionals, patients, and community members to explore futures imagined, unexpected journeys, and transformative relationships.
University of Utah Black Cultural Center’s Meligha Garfield and Sara Cody share insights on celebrating Juneteenth respectfully and emphasize the importance of understanding its history to avoid misappropriation.
