On March 1, the front page of The Post featured two sharply contrasting headlines: “Chaotic aid delivery in Gaza turns deadly” and “Giving beloved pets a peaceful experience.”
In one picture, a mourner wept beside the body of a person killed after a distribution of humanitarian aid turned into a deadly incident in which more than 100 Gazans were reported killed and 700 wounded. In another picture, a woman with a Starbucks coffee in one hand comforted her cancer-stricken boxer-Great Dane mix pet.
As a local female physician, I have many concerns that I have advocated for on behalf of my patients. But my personal concerns feel petty, insignificant and trivial when death, destruction, famine and squalor are all so visible to the world.
The Post is our eyes to help us see it. It seems amazing to me that The Post’s editors would allow these pieces to be on the same page during times like this. And yet the articles served as a reminder: I am so grateful to be living in this country that I sometimes feel guilty for my good fortune.
