The Butterfly Effect - In a Time of Chaos, Spreading Love Matters
As the dust settles, reflecting on our family art project
Hi Readers,
You may have already read about our community family art project that made the news and Today.com. As the dust settled from this strange few days, I’ve stepped back to reflect on the impact a small act made on many people in a time of weariness.
When that little voice in your head inspires you with an act of love, do it.
Fresh from the farmer’s market - the taste of citrus samples still on our tongues - my husband and I noticed a stark piece of graffiti on our walk home with our two year old.
A swastika, the symbol recognized for its association with Nazi ideology and antisemitism, was scrawled hastily with black marker on the sidewalk.
A chilling sight always. My husband, who is half-Jewish, and I cringed, “Yikes.”
We shook it off and crossed the street, only to discover another one drawn boldly near the curb. And as we continued to walk the few blocks to our apartment, they continued to haunt us about every ten or twenty feet. Some on the sidewalks, others on light posts and in doorways, and on walls of buildings. It was like a profoundly dark scavenger hunt as I began to look for the next one.
“This is bad,” I sighed as I looked up how to report them on my phone and took pictures. We live in Santa Monica, California. Most would consider it a liberal, urban enclave - not the kind of place anti-semitism would be so brazen. But the world seems to be shifting uncomfortably lately in a way that’s disturbing those of us paying attention.
And the next day, they were still there. I was disappointed. Horrified. Angry. And I just couldn’t stand to do nothing.
Unfortunately or fortunately (these things are not always clear), it seems to be my life’s work to make lemons into lemonade.
Two years ago, I survived a dramatic medical catastrophe during the birth of my daughter.
The birth triggered a rare chronic illness called Atypical Hemolytic Uremic Syndrome. The rare disease causes tiny blood clots to form in my body’s small blood vessels, triggering organ failure in my heart and kidneys, along with blood clots in most of my major organs. I also battled severe sepsis and toxic encephalopathy.
After a long recovery period, now I treat the chronic disease with regular infusions and struggle with kidney issues.
As my family and friends know, I spend a great deal of time turning my bad luck into an opportunity to inspire whether it’s through my writing, speeches, volunteer work, or how I’m advocating for patients.
A common phrase folks hear me say in the aftermath of my disease nightmare, “I didn’t come back to life to dot dot dot…”
I mostly use it in contexts like, “I didn’t come back to life to get upset about traffic.”
“I didn’t come back to life to be irritated when a friend is late for coffee.”
But I also didn’t come back to life to let someone scrawl hate-symbols all over my neighborhood.
As my two year old colored flowers and hearts with chalk on the driveway - an idea struck me. What if we went out and colored over the markings with flowers, hearts, butterflies and messages of love?
I thought hearts, flowers, and butterflies are all symbols my two year old will understand. She can participate in our family art project, as I called it, to share love with our neighbors. And by using chalk, we weren’t also committing a crime. Our two year old draws on the sidewalk all the time.
And my husband was totally game.
So we headed out with a bucket of chalk, documenting as we worked to share with the authorities - and one by one, we colored over the dark, hateful markings in pastel chalk, writing “Love lives here.”
This hate might be here, but I live here too and I am full of love. And I promise you, my capacity for love is bigger than the hate.
Involving our two year old felt important. She doesn’t understand the meaning of these hate symbols, but she does understand spreading love.
Practically speaking, it was amazing how easily the chalk covered the black marker. Zach captured it on his phone, one part documenting the crime for authorities, but also documenting for our two year old - when she is older, I’ll share with her.
After covering about a dozen markings, we walked home to put our daughter down for a nap.
Zach says, “You know, people might be really inspired by this.” And so, he cut a video together. I sent it to the police so they could be updated on our efforts, and not be totally confused when they found chalk flowers and not swastikas. And Zach posted on the internet, and people immediately responded with loving comments.
I put it on my TikTok and we went about our day.
Within a couple hours, while at a birthday party over vanilla cake and hot dogs, my phone began to ping repeatedly with news outlets reaching out to interview us about the story. They’d come to cover the hate graffiti and found the flowers. The police likely connected them to me. The reporters themselves seemed so eager to be able to share our act of neighborhood love as part of the narrative.
A kind reporter, also a mother, said, “I’ve never seen anything like what you did.”
I honestly didn’t consider this act as particularly remarkable. It just felt important to me to change the story - instead of one of hatred, to one of action and hope. So that everyone, especially young people, walking by those marks could see that someone cared enough to remind them the world isn’t full of anger and hate alone.
After two TV news interviews, we got home and I was floored to see our social media videos go viral.
Reading the comments was an exercise in both love, gratefulness, and overwhelm. Within a few days, we reached over half a million views, over 1600 comments and 62K likes.
I’m not kidding when I say the comments triggered simultaneously immense warmth and two separate migraines. I’d never experienced such a level of emotion from the public.
Hundreds of comments like, “This is the picture of being the change you want to see in the world.”
“It’s people like you who make us feel safe.”
“You have no idea how much this means to me.”
“Sobbing. The world needs more of this.”
“I was worried what I might find in this comment section. I’m grateful to see what I see. Thank you.”
They go on and on and on. And the video still has momentum months later.
Now at over 2000 comments, I can feel the heartache, the longing, the hunger for love and safety.
It surprised me how much people desperately need good news.
It doesn’t take much effort to see the pain in the news feed these days. My heart grieves for all those suffering. But I do think, actions of love can help - it turns out chalk butterflies have immense power.
The Anti-Defamation League shared acts of antisemitism are up 388% - but I can’t help but imagine a world where every time someone encountered an act of hate, they matched it or doubled it with acts of love in their communities- what a difference that could make in the lives of people around us.
I came back to life to live in that world.
But what all of this taught me, about myself, is that even small acts of goodness can really vibrate across the world and give people an immense amount of hope.
I’m far from a perfect person (just ask my husband, my mom, and a smattering of ex-boyfriends). And I’m no Pollyanna either - I’ve seen how dark the world can get. But despite all my faults and no matter how grim things can seem, doing good feels good.
My two-year-old watches a lot of Mr. Rogers. Perhaps one of the world’s most beloved neighbors. He famously said, “When I was a boy, and I would see scary things in the news. My mother would say to me, ‘Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.’”
Now that we are adults - we must be the helpers. We can be the change.
We can be the good news.
Did You Miss It?
Here is the viral video we shared on TikTok.
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If you’re new here and wondering, “what happened to this lady?” read The Fighter Still Remains Part 1. xo
If you’re new here, intended to be both memoir and a practical tool to help folks who might be going through something similar or those caregivers and family supporting someone with a challenging diagnosis. I hope to include excerpts here as I write. NOTE: This is not intended to replace actual medical guidance. Please consult your doctors on your individual challenges and situations. Also names have been changed for most of my medical staff.
Thank you to CC Couchois, Roy Lenn, and Dr. Richard Burwick for your founding level donation.
so glad we did this!