“…Right now Trump is leaving America exposed to dangerous viruses: digital, biological and diplomatic. Something bad is going to happen to us as a result. We and our children are going to pay for this, and not only at the gas pump.” Thomas L. Friedman, N.Y. Times, Oct. 1, 2026

Rovinj, Croatia – Walking along the streets of this small port in Croatia I noticed a banner hanging from an official looking building sitting a dozen meters or so from the harbor. It was announcing an exhibit entitled Non-Belonging As a Worldview. An exhibit hall of sorts apparently shares the building with a bank and when I searched for it, I found its doors closed without any information as to when it would be open. It was a metaphor for how I was feeling at the time–like trying to use an ATM, but the screen is facing the bright sunlight and you just can’t make things out.

No matter where I go, people everywhere want to talk about Donald Trump and his antics, now existentially perilous. I’m reminded how I felt during the Vietnam War era when, as a young American, I harbored disgust toward my own government. In a way, I traded my disdain of the military’s efforts in southeast Asia for service in the Peace Corps in South Korea.

John Ossoff, U.S. Senator from Georgia, recently met with young people who, he said, were feeling despair about what’s happening in America and around the world. “Despair,” Ossoff told the group of students, “is an indulgence. It’s a luxury we cannot afford. We don’t have the luxury of despair. Young people can play a pivotal role by voting. We can still have agency.”

By now, Trump’s antics are known everywhere in the world. South Koreans watch with visceral concern as he kisses-up to North Korean tyrant, Kim Jong Un. Our long term ally, Taiwan, witnesses him literally rolling out the red carpet for China’s President Xi as he visits Washington, D.C. Military support to Taiwan, so necessary for that island nation’s survival, seems to hang in the balance. Everything from NATO, to our relations with Ukraine, Greenland, and Venezuela, lay in chaos created by Trump. Even tonight here in Croatia, two women servers from Albania, displayed a pained laugh when I mentioned the Trump name. The Trump family is attempting to build a hotel and condo development that would destroy environmentally sensitive parkland inhabited by flamingos, and other wild life, along the Albanian coast. I no longer recognize my country by either its domestic or international policies.

Last night, as I was watching the sun set from a breakwater here in Rovinj, Croatia, I heard a strange buzzing. I turned and saw a drone speeding by just above the heads of dozens of people who were trying to make sense of the unusual noise. It quickly disappeared off into the distance. I imagined what it might be like to be in Kiev or Gaza and see drones hovering nearby, being on the receiving end of their technical gaze, and wondering what might happen in the next second. This, I am afraid, may be where we are headed globally.

And globally, of course, the world is witnessing a genocide in Gaza. Some quibble about the label “genocide,” but not those who are aware of the 1948 Genocide Convention unanimously adopted by the U.N. General Assembly. As an American Jew, one whose Jewish identity leans more toward the cultural than the religious, I aways saw myself as a reasoned supporter of Israel. I visited the country many times, for both business and pleasure. Frankly, Israel, the place, is mesmerizing. Words can’t describe Jerusalem, the desert, the brilliant coastal cities of Tel Aviv and Haifa, the landscape, the history. But I can no longer look in the mirror and say honestly to myself that I support Israel. Netanyahu, like Trump, is leading his country off a cliff, with countless lemmings in tow. The utter devastation of Gaza is evil personified. My country, the U.S., and the heartland of my religion, Israel, as I once knew them, are withering from my identify.

These are, no doubt, the most challenging of times. Author James Baldwin, whose thought provoking writings stirred generations to action said, when asked if he was feeling despair, “No, not despair. I am feeling enraged. I can’t afford despair. You can’t tell the children to feel despair.” We must channel rage into action. We must not lose hope.

During the Great Depression, President Herbert Hoover offered Americans little to no hope. That set the stage for Franklin Roosevelt and his unprecedented four-terms as President. As I travel both at home and overseas, I feel more and more disconnected from both my country and my religion. I travel untethered, as a free-agent. And as I do, I feel free…and quietly, hopeful.