10月27日匹兹堡犹太教堂枪击案，11死，多伤。嫌犯罗伯特.包尔斯（Robert Bowers)受伤被捕。这几天，救护他的男护士阿里.马勒的脸书贴大火，下面是我自己的粗浅翻译，并附原文
我就是那个犹太护士。
没错，犹太护士。就是大家谈论的留下11具尸体的匹兹堡枪击案中的那个护士。那个急救室里救护罗伯特.包尔斯（Robert Bowers）的创伤护士，就在被推进医院的时候他还吼叫着，“所有犹太人都去死吧！”那个冲进屋里去救他一命的犹太护士。
坦率地说，我对分享这件事有点紧张。我很清楚我现在感到孤独，同时有讽刺意味的是，整个世界都在谈论我，如果没有机会为我自己说话，这似乎不太公平。
我还是个孩子的时候，被标上“犹太人”无疑是有歧视的含义。这也是为什么现在当人们突然把这个名字当成了爱称的时候，我觉得难以适应。成人后，用一句“我不太信教”来隐藏我的宗教，好让别人接受我是犹太人的事实--尤其当我告诉他们我爸是个拉比（Rabbi）。说“我不太信教”就象是说：“没事，我没有那么犹太化，因此，我跟你没什么区别，”这招很好使，人们对我立刻就不象几秒钟前那样不自在了。
我小时候亲身经历了很多反犹太主义。我不知道这是不是都是发自内心的仇恨，还是仅仅是那些自己有问题的孩子们以此为借口对我发泄，我们学校当然还有几个其他犹太孩子，但是他们父亲都不是拉比。我在桌子上看到我们家被赶进毒气室的图画，我的储物箱（Locker）被画上纳粹卍字，里面被塞进纸条，上面写着：“犹太人，死；爱希特勒。”那个时代情况不一样，对霸凌还没有象现在管的那么严。我也比较软弱，不敢告诉任何人，独自躲在恐惧中。指认做这些事的人只会招来更糟的后果。
先不说这些。我对发生这起枪击案一点都不感到震惊，说实在的，再发生同样的案件，只是个时间问题。历史对事情会变化不抱希望。我心渴望变化，但是今天的环境并不利于培育、宽容或文明礼仪。即使在这次枪击案之前，也没有真正的证据显示事实不是如此。联邦调查局和南方贫困法律中心注意到，犹太人只占美国人口的2%，但是所有宗教仇恨犯罪中的60%是针对犹太人的。我不知道为什么人们那么恨我们，但是反犹太主义这股暗流似乎相当汹涌。
这就是我，救护了罗伯特包尔斯的那个犹太护士。我在CNN，福克斯新闻，PBS和地方新闻台等等节目中看他们谈论我，我读了纽约时报和华盛顿邮报上写我的文章。我做了我的本职工作，这个工作中，怜悯之心和推己及人之心高于一切，这件事对于民众来说有新闻价值，因为我是犹太人，更何况我父亲是名拉比。
说句实话，当我看着包尔斯的眼睛的时候，我没有看到邪恶，我看到是其它的东西。由于健康信息方面的法律限制，我不能把我们之间的交流说得太具体。我可以告诉你们的是，作为他的护士，或者任何人的护士，我是通过善心来照顾病人，我的行为以同情心为准绳，而不管你不受我的护理时是个什么样的人。只要你躺在我的担架上，你的每一口呼吸都将比上一次更美丽。就算罗伯特包尔斯刚犯下多重杀戮，这一点也是同样的。就在他到达医院一个小时之前，他在我心中播下的恐惧使我害怕我的父母是被他杀害的11人中的两名。
我可以肯定他不知道我是犹太人。为什么要感谢一名犹太护士?15分钟前你会毫不犹豫照着我脑袋开枪。我对他一个字也没提我的宗教。整个过程我什么话也没对他说。我希望他能感到慈悲，我想向他展示同情之心。我觉得纪念他的受害人的最好方法是由一名犹太人来证明他错了。另外，假如他发现我是犹太人，又会怎么样呢？更好的问题是，这对你们意味着什么呢？
爱心，这是为什么我要这么作。行动中的爱心比话语更有力，而面对邪恶的爱心让其他人看到希望。她展现了人性，她再次明确了我们生存于此的意义。生命的意义是把意义赋于生命，而爱心是连系所有众生的终极力量。我不关心罗伯特包尔斯怎么想，但是对于你，正在阅读这些文字的人，爱心是我想传递的唯一信息。如果我的行为有什么意义的话，那就是：爱心才是全部意义之所在。
尊敬你的
阿里.马勒（Ari Malher)，注册护士
I am The Jewish Nurse.
Yes, that Jewish Nurse. The same one that people are talking about in the Pittsburgh shooting that left 11 dead. The trauma nurse in the ER that cared for Robert Bowers who yelled, "Death to all Jews," as he was wheeled into the hospital. The Jewish nurse who ran into a room to save his life.
To be honest, I’m nervous about sharing this. I just know I feel alone right now, and the irony of the world talking about me doesn’t seem fair without the chance to speak for myself.
When I was a kid, being labeled “The Jewish (anything)”, undoubtedly had derogatory connotations attached to it. That's why it feels so awkward to me that people suddenly look at it as an endearing term. As an adult, deflecting my religion by saying “I’m not that religious,” makes it easier for people to accept I’m Jewish – especially when I tell them my father is a rabbi. “I’m not that religious,” is like saying, “Don’t worry, I’m not that Jewish, therefore, I’m not so different than you,” and like clockwork, people don’t look at me as awkwardly as they did a few seconds beforehand.
I experienced anti-Semitism a lot as a kid. It’s hard for me to say if it was always a product of genuine hatred, or if kids with their own problems found a reason to single me out from others. Sure, there were a few Jewish kids at my school, but no one else had a father who was a Rabbi. I found drawings on desks of my family being marched into gas chambers, swastikas drawn on my locker, and notes shoved inside of it saying, “Die Jew. Love, Hitler.” It was a different time back then, where bullying was not monitored like it is now. I was weak, too. Rather than tell anyone, I hid behind fear. Telling on the people who did this would only lead to consequences far worse.
Regardless, the fact that this shooting took place doesn’t shock me. To be honest, it’s only a matter of time before the next one happens. History refutes hope that things will change. My heart yearns for change, but today's climate doesn't foster nurturing, tolerance, or civility. Even before this shooting took place, there’s no real evidence supporting otherwise. The FBI and the Southern Poverty Law Center note that Jews only account for two percent of the U.S. population, yet 60% of all religious hate crimes are committed against them. I don’t know why people hate us so much, but the underbelly of anti-Semitism seems to be thriving.
So now, here I am, The Jewish Nurse that cared for Robert Bowers. I’ve watched them talk about me on CNN, Fox News, Anderson Cooper, PBS, and the local news stations. I’ve read articles mentioning me in the NY Times and the Washington Post. The fact that I did my job, a job which requires compassion and empathy over everything, is newsworthy to people because I’m Jewish. Even more so because my dad’s a Rabbi.
To be honest, I didn't see evil when I looked into Robert Bower's eyes. I saw something else. I can’t go into details of our interactions because of HIPAA. I can tell you that as his nurse, or anyone's nurse, my care is given through kindness, my actions are measured with empathy, and regardless of the person you may be when you're not in my care, each breath you take is more beautiful than the last when you're lying on my stretcher. This was the same Robert Bowers that just committed mass homicide. The Robert Bowers who instilled panic in my heart worrying my parents were two of his 11 victims less than an hour before his arrival.
I’m sure he had no idea I was Jewish. Why thank a Jewish nurse, when 15 minutes beforehand, you’d shoot me in the head with no remorse? I didn’t say a word to him about my religion. I chose not to say anything to him the entire time. I wanted him to feel compassion. I chose to show him empathy. I felt that the best way to honor his victims was for a Jew to prove him wrong. Besides, if he finds out I’m Jewish, does it really matter? The better question is, what does it mean to you?
Love. That’s why I did it. Love as an action is more powerful than words, and love in the face of evil gives others hope. It demonstrates humanity. It reaffirms why we’re all here. The meaning of life is to give meaning to life, and love is the ultimate force that connects all living beings. I could care less what Robert Bowers thinks, but you, the person reading this, love is the only message I wish instill in you. If my actions mean anything, love means everything.
Respectfully,
Ari Mahler, RN.
