Compassion without borders?

I am angered by the hypocrisy on the part of the U.S. and Israeli governments as they send aid to Haiti. After witnessing the horrific abandonment of New Orleans during Katrina and the continual, systematic denial of aid to the Palestinian people, I realize how limited and self-serving acts of "charity" often are.

I can't help but wonder what has become of love and compassion for one's neighbor. Even on a smaller scale, we write checks hoping they'll make it across an ocean or a continent, but may never even speak to the person with whom we share a thin, white wall. I muster a small smile and hello for the redheaded woman upstairs, but it is only when, by chance, we take the same bus do I learn that she is epileptic and has had two seizures in the past 6 weeks. Her mother in Florida worries terribly that her daughter is ill and lives alone, has no real friends in the neighborhood in spite of her undeniable friendliness. I wish I had known. Handing her my number, I regret complaining to my boyfriend about the drips through our ceiling when her bath overflows, when I've decided that I don't really see us ever being friends, when I've sensed some neediness in her and decided I just don't really have time for it.

It terrifies me, but I think I'll begin by treating my neighbors as I would wish for nation states to treat their most vulnerable populations. My actions are the only ones I can control; everything may seem a bit less scary if I attempt to exemplify my own ideals.

On that note, stay tuned for tales of social awkwardness, blunder, and faux pas galore!