by Adnan Abbasi
 |
A nurse at New York University’s Langone hospital was fired after mentioning what she described as a “genocide” in Gaza during an award ceremony speech. Hesen Jabr, 34, a labor and delivery nurse who worked at NYU Langone for nearly 10 years, made the remarks while accepting an award earlier this month for providing excellent care to patients suffering perinatal loss… In a statement, Steve Ritea, a spokesperson for NYU Langone, said: “Hesen Jabr was warned in December, following a previous incident, not to bring her views on this divisive and charged issue into the workplace. She instead chose not to heed that at a recent employee recognition event that was widely attended by her colleagues, some of whom were upset after her comments. As a result, Jabr is no longer an NYU Langone employee.” —The Guardian, May 31, 2024 |
In the Court of Selective Outrage, now in session,
Where empathy's on trial, facing suppression.
The jury: stone-faced statues, deaf and blind,
The judge: a mirror, cracked and ill-defined.
Exhibit A: A nurse with healing hands,
Accused of love that spans divided lands.
"How dare she care," the Prosecution cries,
"For suffering that we've chosen to disguise?"
Witnesses parade, with badges of disdain,
Experts in the art of curated pain.
They testify of horrors, oh so select,
While wearing blinders, perfectly erect.
The Defense presents a stethoscope that hears
All heartbeats equal, through walls and through fears.
"Objection!" roars the court in unified voice,
"Such equity of care is a dangerous choice!"
Evidence mounts: bandages stained with tears,
A speech that dared to bridge the gap of years.
The clerk records each word with trembling hand,
As Truth stands gagged in the witness stand.
In summation, Irony takes the floor,
Painting compassion as an act of war.
The verdict echoes through antiseptic halls:
"Guilty of healing beyond these sterile walls."
Sentence is passed in a language absurd:
Silence for her who made suffering heard.
As Hesen exits, head unbowed and tall,
Justice weeps softly in the empty hall.
Outside, the world spins on, in chaos and in pain,
While in the court, they sanitize again,
Preparing for the next case on the docket:
"The Olive Tree vs. Concrete in Its Socket"
Where empathy's on trial, facing suppression.
The jury: stone-faced statues, deaf and blind,
The judge: a mirror, cracked and ill-defined.
Exhibit A: A nurse with healing hands,
Accused of love that spans divided lands.
"How dare she care," the Prosecution cries,
"For suffering that we've chosen to disguise?"
Witnesses parade, with badges of disdain,
Experts in the art of curated pain.
They testify of horrors, oh so select,
While wearing blinders, perfectly erect.
The Defense presents a stethoscope that hears
All heartbeats equal, through walls and through fears.
"Objection!" roars the court in unified voice,
"Such equity of care is a dangerous choice!"
Evidence mounts: bandages stained with tears,
A speech that dared to bridge the gap of years.
The clerk records each word with trembling hand,
As Truth stands gagged in the witness stand.
In summation, Irony takes the floor,
Painting compassion as an act of war.
The verdict echoes through antiseptic halls:
"Guilty of healing beyond these sterile walls."
Sentence is passed in a language absurd:
Silence for her who made suffering heard.
As Hesen exits, head unbowed and tall,
Justice weeps softly in the empty hall.
Outside, the world spins on, in chaos and in pain,
While in the court, they sanitize again,
Preparing for the next case on the docket:
"The Olive Tree vs. Concrete in Its Socket"
Adnan Abbasi’s writings have appeared in Hindustan Times, EconLib, The Straits Times, and CNN-News18. He is associated with Students for Liberty's South Asia chapter.
