Pain is always political.
What does it mean, the opposing imperative of honoring the feeling of being shattered, while gathering up whatever is left to work harder?
I have found a few comforting examples of this paradox at work in other moments of political darkness. One of the readings I have consumed almost compulsively this past year is in, during which Hannah Arendt and her husband Heinrich Blücher were forced to wait in Montauban, France, after fleeing a Nazi internment camp, to receive emergency US exit visas .
This week, after every mass shooting I’ve found myself wondering what it means when Sen. Ted Cruz excoriates people for “politicizing” suffering after a massacre, even as he himself stands at a press conference to do the same.
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