HP Community Words

I find myself in a land of in-between, where my heart and soul are stuck in time, grieving, while the rest of the world moves on around me. Where a scroll through social media abruptly shifts from powerful posts about gun violence to someone dancing around their kitchen, and then to a cat falling off a swing. Where people at work in meetings ask how everyone’s 4th of July weekend was- unfazed- and me being confused by the question, because how could it be good? Where people asked “Did you hear about the shooting? My husband’s friend from work’s uncle is from there” not realizing where I am from. Do I lie and say ‘fine”- wouldn’t want to be a buzzkill? Do I hit them with the reality just to remind them that it happened at all? After all, 3 days is the amount of time it takes the rest of the world to get over a mass shooting.     I find myself realizing the unique impact this has had on our lives. As someone who loves rules, black and white, a clear path, and drawn-out plays in ...

 Three missed calls and a text from Mom saying “Please call me now” at 10:42 am on July 4th as I was getting ready to meet friends. I prepared myself for bad news. I rushed to Google the unthinkable -  “Shooting Highland Park.” There was only one Tweet from an old neighbor. And then -  Dad just left he is looking for Adam, Ethan is trying to get out of Sunset. Did you hear there was a shooting in HP? Are you in Highland Park? There was a shooting  Breaking: Mass Shooting in Highland Park, IL  Are your parents at the HP parade? Are you hearing about it?  Alert: Shooting at 4th of July Parade in Highland Park  I heard 9 people were shot.  Adam is safe, Dad is coming home.  Active shooter in Highland Park.  I heard 20 people were shot.  Turn on CNN.  Ethan just got home.  Olivia are you okay? I heard there was a shooter in HP?? The shooter was on top of Uncle Dans.  Zoom in you can see bodies on the ground. Turn on Chann...

I have not been able to find words to describe the mass shooting on July 4th in my hometown of Highland Park, Illinois. So here it goes.  The 4th of July parade is something that brought me so much happiness throughout my time living in Highland Park. As my dad works for the FBHP, I remember gathering as a child with my family and friends every single year to ride on their float. I have the happiest of memories of throwing candy to people in the crowd and seeing the smiles on the entire community's faces. I then went on to work for the Park District during my summers as I got older, where I worked the carnival at Sunset Park that is held after the parade. I vividly remember all the smiles, laughs, and joy from all of the families and their children enjoying the rides, games, cookout, and, of course, the ice cream trucks.  My dad was at the parade this year, as usual. Thankfully, my family and friends are safe and OK. But, to my entire community that isn’t as lucky, I am so so...

19 years ago at 22 years old, I accepted my very first job as a 4th grade teacher at Ravinia school in Highland Park. I had dreamed of being a teacher from the time I was 5 years old. My passion for working with children only grew with age. I knew the important role a teacher could play in a child’s life. I didn’t just want to teach, I wanted to support the social emotional health of all children. I wanted to provide my students with the tools and skills to handle all life’s challenges. Teaching them the academics wasn’t my concern. I knew I could do that if I could create a safe space for each of them to be who they needed to be. Teaching each and every 9 and 10 year old to love themselves for who they are, to treat others with kindness and compassion, to navigate difficult interactions, and to just show up each day, was my mission.  Today, I look back on all of my classes, all of my students, their families, and their friends. I want to reach out to all them! I want to make sure ...

i’ve been trying to collect my thoughts into sensible words for the past 24 hours but simply can’t comprehend the tragedy that has just occurred in my hometown.   almost every day, we turn on the news to a headline about a mass shooting somewhere far away from our own homes. we are so desensitized to it that when it is not directly affecting us, we grieve for the people whose lives were affected, but then ultimately move on with our days. it wasn’t until this happened in my home, that i realized how quickly the world moves on—and frankly, how disturbing that is. is it going to take every affluent neighborhood across america to experience these atrocities for change to occur? is it going to take government officials’ very own family members to be blown up by rifles for them to change their minds about who can—NO ONE SHOULD—own explosive weapons? and how can you lead a nation with such hypocrisy as to say that you are pro-life, but turn your back when guns are the very thing takin...

Growing up as a closeted gay man in Highland Park, during a time where our community was on the cusp of acceptance of understanding cis-queer identities, my journey has been complicated with this place. What was never complicated about it, however, was the immense love people had for one another in this town. Whenever I went to Walker Brothers, I would see a smiling face of either my dad’s patient or a friend and be able to catch up or even reconnect. When I first moved out to San Francisco after college, it was a group of us from Highland Park that helped establish my foundation in the city and really make me feel at home. And most recently, this past year, I joined The Pride Fund, a queer Jewish giving circle that raises funds for causes at the intersection of LGBTQ+ and Jewish identities in the Bay Area and Israel. And then later on, I learned that 5 of the 20-some members of this (let’s be honest: niche) organization as well as the chair have roots in Highland Park. This was a surp...

I was on a run this morning on the green bay trail. I started running towards town when I noticed that the people I was passing were decked out in Fourth of July gear, carrying picnic chairs and wagons with their children in it. I realized I was running towards the parade, and I was so excited. I texted my family saying “the Fourth of July parade right now!” Incase anyone would want to join me. I ran down St. John’s towards central Avenue when I heard the shots. I thought it was a sound for the beginning of the parade- and I took that as a signal it was time for me to turn around since I didn’t want to run straight into the crowd. I noticed some people were screaming- but I thought it was just out of excitement for the floats and the candy being tossed out. I continued on the Green Bay trail the opposite way. My sisters started texting in our group chat that there were gun shots at the parade- and I told them that it was probably police officers firing off rifles to commence the start ...