This newsletter was supposed to be about salary transparency, as today marks one year since New York City started requiring companies to disclose salary ranges in job listings. But I just don’t have it in me to talk about whether you should feel comfortable discussing pay with colleagues and even friends. I’m just too sad.
The news of the last month has been relentless—and every day it seems worse. First the horror stories pouring out of Israel and Gaza. Posters featuring kidnapped Israelis paper the streets of New York City. Photos of Palestinian men holding dead children on the homepage of The New York Times. And then, the violence came closer to home, with 18 people killed last week in Maine, the whole state on lockdown as a manhunt ensued. Once again, our social media feeds seem to overflow with stats about the horrific gun violence that plagues our country. The massive hurricane that destroyed Acapulco, killing more than 100 people, has barely received any coverage—perhaps the news media were too busy watching the circus that was the Republicans choosing a new Speaker of the House.
And always in the back of my mind is concern for the thousands of migrants who continue to stream into New York City, looking for a place to stay and a job and a break after surviving a harrowing journey across half the world.
But the piece of news that finally sent me spiraling came Thursday night, when I learned a child was killed crossing a street in Brooklyn, walking to school with his mother. The child is the same age as my kid. When asked about the death and what he was going to do about pedestrian safety in NYC, Mayor Adams yelled, “I love New York!” and got into his car and drove away. There have been 132 people killed by motor vehicles so far in 2023, and not a day has gone by without someone injured by one, according to research from the website The Cost of Cars in New York City.
To say my heart breaks for all these people—in Israel and Palestine, in Maine, in Mexico, in New York City—feels beyond cliche. And also, I don’t think my heart can break because I’m pretty sure it has turned to stone. I feel so numb right now and hopeless. What are we supposed to do? We raise money for the families and march to demand action and canvas for politicians who make promises they don’t keep. And nothing ever changes. If anything, it feels like it just gets worse.
