Broken by the Names of Flowers

Looking back at my childhood, I’ve come to realize that numerous aspects of the Jewish faith are inexplicably paired with an apartheid ethnostate, under the doctrine of Zionism. My people are both historic victims of oppression and current perpetrators of carnage. Broken by the Names of Flowers reckons with genocide committed in our name.

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Through photographing objects that draw on symbols and motifs from Judaic teachings, I create narratives that highlight my lived experience as a voice of dissent among the broader Zionist community. 

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The Etrog, a ritual citrus, is considered perfect from both an aesthetic and spiritual perspective. My image carries a lemon, lacerated and defiled by the same hand that venerates its flawless variant. I question who constructs the notion of perfection and who suffers beneath it. This photograph is emblematic of a divide between the ideals of Israel and the realities of a constructed colonial project built on dispossession.

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I ponder the charged items as they, at times, allude to moments of personal unlearning. I hold deep conflict, loving my religion, while unconsciously holding onto vestiges of indoctrination. It’s difficult to unlink spirituality from ideology, and the reverence of my youth now feels incompatible with my present-day condemnation.

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The notion of Tikkun Olam is understood as an ethical obligation to mend a broken world, while questioning power is an explicit tenet of Judaism. The pictures in Broken by the Names of Flowers reflect my hope that introspection can keep open the possibility of repair.