In this Story... with Joanne Greene

By: Joanne Greene
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  • Summary

  • Joanne Greene shares her flash nonfiction, each essay with custom music, showcasing tales and observations from her animated life. Her book, "By Accident: A Memoir of Letting Go" is now available as a paperback, e-book, and audiobook from Amazon, Audible, Barnes & Noble, and your local independent book seller.
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Biographies & Memoirs Social Sciences
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Episodes
  • October 7. One Year Later.

    October 7. One Year Later.
    Sep 20 2024
    Early the morning of October 7th, 2023, I took a call from my daughter in law Marie who, unbeknownst to me, was in the process of becoming Jewish.She said, “My mom called to tell me how upset she was about the attack on Israel.” I held my breath. Her mom lives in France. I’d been awake for all of 20 minutes, blissfully unaware. When we hung up, I turned on CNN and began to grasp the magnitude of the still unfolding catastrophe. In the moments and weeks that followed, I understood that Hamas had unleashed the worst assault against the Jewish people that had taken place in my lifetime. The pain and confusion were just beginning.I felt personally attacked – the first time I’d questioned my safety as a proud Jewish American. From the start, people on the left, my people, or so I’d always thought, were justifying Hamas’s actions, couching the unbelievably gruesome assault in the larger context of the occupation, as though there was any way to justify the slaughter of peace loving concert goers, as if there could be an excuse for attacking the very Israelis who lived close to Gaza in hopes of building bridges, of helping people whose own government put them in danger.I read a post that my young Muslim friend posted - the friend who, on behalf of her mosque, sent flowers to the JCC after a bomb threat forced our evacuation. She’s the partner with whom I planned interfaith activities to bring Muslims and Jews together – an Iftar, an art exhibit – as part of the Salaam, Shalom, Speaking of Peace initiative. Her post, like so many, condemned the actions of the Israeli military, the killing of innocent Palestinians. Her tone stung and I reached out, asking if we could meet to discuss our collective pain. She responded with an emoji – a tiny symbol that may have meant we were okay, the two of us, but that was it. Our people, I feared, were no longer okay with one another.I felt betrayed by the left, by the very people with whom I’d spend decades marching for justice, reproductive rights, voting rights, affordable housing, against racism and Islamophobia. I watched what was happening on college campuses, wondering where I would have stood as an eighteen-year-old. Would I, too, have seen Israel as the all-powerful occupier, the military giant, a puppet of the United States? Would my sympathies have gone to the thousands of Palestinians abandoned by their leaders yet killed by Jewish bombs? Why is no one on the left talking about the Israeli women who were raped, whose bodies were mutilated?During the first intifada, as a radio talk show host, I felt pressure from the Jewish community to speak out publicly. “You have a platform,” they said. But I was a journalist. I hosted debates giving both sides a chance to make their case. I asked questions, like my people have done for centuries. We learn by asking questions. With age comes perspective and, knowing so much more now about the history, it’s hard to listen to people who haven’t taken the time to learn. “From the river to sea,” they’re chanting but, when asked, too few knew which river and which sea were being referenced, not to mention the fact that their chant was calling for the end of Israel. Too few of those sacrificing sleep in encampments, feeling solidarity with the oppressed, had knowledge of all the attempts that have been made to make peace with Palestinians while ensuring the security of Israelis. As Former Israeli Prime Minister Golda Meir famously said, “You cannot negotiate peace with somebody who has come to kill you.” On October 7th, 2023, Hamas came to kill, rape, torture, and kidnap Jews, as many as they possibly could. Hamas denies Israel’s right to exist, therefore a peace treaty with Hamas will never be attainable.It’s human nature to try to fix things, to come up with solutions, to reduce conflict to good and evil, us and them, the occupiers and the occupied. But most conflict is filled with complexity and nuance and, as such, demands empathy. We are meant to struggle. We make a grave mistake when we tell ourselves that we are totally in the right and not at fault at all. Our tradition offers us an opportunity to make teshuvah, to accept our human frailty, to look, to see, to acknowledge, to turn, and to try harder next time.My heart feels the pain of the hostages and their families, the displacement of families from Israel’s northern border, the trauma of Israeli soldiers who put themselves at risk every day, and the worry that plagues all Israelis and all people who fear for their safety. And my heart cannot grow cold to the suffering of innocent Palestinians, people displaced from their homes time and again, people used as human shields by their terrorist government. They didn’t ask for this and the hatred they’ve come to feel for Israelis, for Jews, for me, is understandable. May this war end. May something good come from all this horror and loss. May there be answers.
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    6 mins
  • I Board A Cruise Ship

    I Board A Cruise Ship
    Sep 13 2024
    Joanne’s book, “By Accident: A Memoir of Letting Go” is now available from your favorite online book seller. Stay tuned to hear if Joanne will be speaking at a bookstore near you. If you’re interested in having her come to your local bookstore, contact her directly at joannergreene@gmail.com or get updates on her website at joanne-greene.com and make sure to sign up for her newsletter!

    In this story, I board a cruise ship.
    For decades, my image of a cruise featured loud, gluttonous fressers (that’s Yiddish for people who stuff their faces with abandon at the all-you-can-eat buffet.) I envisioned tiny airless rooms with, at best, a porthole; smoke-filled casinos with spilled drinks due to sea turbulence; and long lines of parents with screaming children waiting to board and disembark at every port. Unappealing? Ya think?….
    But then, in the 1990’s, we bought a timeshare that came with a free Royal Caribbean cruise for two. The inside passage of ALASKA, we agreed, would be our destination. Hoping an Alaskan cruise would attract nature lovers and not be the cruise of choice for dedicated party animals, we signed up for a weeklong adventure, starting and ending in Vancouver, British Columbia, that would include stops in Juno, Sitka, and Ketchikan.
    Ever the optimist, I focused on not having to unpack and repack every couple of days – a big plus – and on the fact that the ship we’d chosen featured a spa area with healthy food choices and numerous exercise opportunities and options for pampering. We reserved an upgraded cabin with a door leading out to a small private deck. Our bases were covered.
    Eyeing our fellow travelers as we boarded the floating city that would be our home for a week, our minds began to settle. There were people who looked enough like us, smiling, chatting, anticipating a good time. When asked on the guest form if we were celebrating anything that week, we shared that it was our wedding anniversary, figuring telling them might mean a bottle of champagne or some chocolate covered strawberries. What we didn’t anticipate was that it would peg us for participation in the Very Wed and Newlywed Game two nights later.
    What the heck? we thought when invited to be on stage to compete against other couples. Then they plied us with margaritas. Oh boy. Joined at the hip and hardly shy in front of a crowd, we answered their outrageous questions, winning nearly every round. The competition wasn’t stiff, of course, and we were letting loose. And then they asked the final question: “What is something your spouse continues to do that you find REALLY annoying?”
    Hmmmm…how should I answer this, I wondered? The first thing that popped into my mind is how Fred disappears, quite suddenly. When I say he gets lost, he tells me that he knew exactly where he was the whole time. We’ll be walking down a street together, for instance, and I turn to say something to him and he’s not there. Could have been a store that wooed him in. More likely, he stopped to take a photograph and either forgot to tell me or mentioned that he was doing so in a voice that I couldn’t hear.
    “I have a pet peeve,” I said to the game show host, convinced that none of the other spouses would share my answer. “My husband sometimes disappears. We’ll be together at an event or walking somewhere and ……
    At that precise moment, Fred left the stage. The audience went wild. I had to admit that he stole the show.
    But that wasn’t the end of the game.
    Two days later, people all over the ship were recognizing us. “Weren’t you the couple from the Newlywed game? You were so funny!” We nodded and smiled awkwardly.
    Back in our room, we turned on the television and there we were, a bit tipsy, sharing oddly compromising secrets on the television show no one mentioned they were producing of our Very Wed and Newlywed game. They were running it over and over again, 24 hours a day, in every room on the ship.
    We tried to be incognito…eating our meals in the spa section….keeping to ourselves as best we could, but it was not to be. Unwittingly, we’d gained our ten minutes of fame on a cruise ship named what was it…. Lengend of the Seas? Splendor of the Sea? Splendor in the Grass? Chicken of the Sea?
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    5 mins
  • It's The Details That Define Me

    It's The Details That Define Me
    Aug 30 2024
    Joanne’s book, “By Accident: A Memoir of Letting Go” is now available from your favorite online book seller. Stay tuned to hear if Joanne will be speaking at a bookstore near you. If you’re interested in having her come to your local bookstore, contact her directly at joannergreene@gmail.com or get updates on her website at joanne-greene.com and make sure to sign up for her newsletter!

    Whiskers on kittens are okay but dogs’ ears really do it for me. Basset hounds take the cake, but I’ll stroke a spaniel’s ear, a lab’s, a shepherd’s, and, of course, any part of a doodle, anytime. Speaking of taking the cake…feel free. In my estimation cake is grossly overrated. With the exception of a really moist carrot cake, my mothers’ spice cake, or a flourless chocolate cake, I’d choose am oatmeal or chocolate chip cookie nine times out of ten. After my summer working at Household Finance Loan Corporation, above a donut shop, when I inhaled an ice-cold lemonade and a glazed honey dipped donut every morning at 10:30, I hate the smell of donuts. Pie is rarely worth the calories but a solid fruit crisp or crumble or Apple Betty gets the salivary glands going every time.
    Life is filled with food and chores.
    Why is ironing so satisfying? I assume because one sliding motion and a little heat eliminates the crease and thereby solves the problem. With that framing, I should enjoy vacuuming, which I don’t. But folding laundry? Oddly relaxing. While I enjoy the look of a well-made bed, I don’t relish the walking back and forth, straightening the sheets, pulling up the duvet and making sure what’s inside isn’t bunched up in one corner. Bed-making sucks. We’re living in the guest room temporarily, due to a little construction, and- don’t tell anyone but I’ve just been pulling up the top sheet. I tell myself it’s a summer look. But really, I’m just cutting corners.
    I love checking in with friends and family members but hate it when I’m ready to hang up and move on and the other person just keeps talking. Y’can’t just say, okay, I’m done. You’re starting to bore me. So, usually, I say something stupid like – I have to go to the bathroom or file my receipts so take care and have a great day! I also squirm when people tell me about people I don’t know and won’t ever meet. Who cares? Stop wasting my time.
    Strangely, I never get sick of listening to my kids and my heart skips a beat, like a teenage girl hearing from her new boyfriend, every time caller ID shows it’s one of them reaching out. Like every stereotype of a doting grandma, my face lights up and my smile is so wide it hurts when any of my three littles appear on FaceTime.
    The first bite of a perfectly ripe nectarine, bouquets of dahlias, the smell of a Eucalyptus tree and the majesty of a redwood. These make my heart sing and activate the gratitude which I continue to express for the feel of clean sheets, being able to walk for hours without pain, for my cancer being stage one, for sunshine and beaches, to Biden for finally stepping down, for age old friendships and the memories of laughing so hard we peed, for Motown and margaritas, for unbuttered popcorn and kettle brand sea salt chips, for vape pens and firepits, hot tubs and massages. I am ever so grateful for my husband and family…for good health and anti-depressants…for treasuring my Jewish heritage…and for finally having ….and being enough.
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    4 mins

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