Speaking of which, wanna know the best thing about Intersectionality? I can connect anything to anything, especially if that second ‘anything’ happens to be a certain group of Arabs who have lived in the Holy Land for thousands of years. Or since last Wednesday. Whatever. Anyways, when it comes to Intersectionality, the Palestinian cause is like an amazing purse. You can literally match it with anything.
SCENE: Somewhere beneath the Knesset. Late Summer, 1972. A woman with graying black hair put up in a bun and wearing a string of pearls is speaking to 7 men sitting around a table. One of them has an eye patch. None of the men are speaking. Suddenly, a woman wearing a mustard hijab over a charcoal-grey jacket materializes, Star Trek Style. She’s been doing that a lot lately.
Woman in hijab: Are you Golda Meir, the Zionist?
Woman with hair in bun: I’m also Golda Meir the Prime Minister, Gold Meir the grandmother, and sometimes just Golda. But yes, you found me. And who are you, may I ask?
Woman in hijab: My name is Linda Sarsour, and I have traveled from the future to inform you that you are not a feminist.
Golda: Well, you might be right. All I do is keep this roomful of egomaniacs silent while I tell them what to do. I guess teaching school in Milwaukee helped prepare me for this work. All of the arguments, all of the screaming, all of the tantrums I witnessed. And let me tell you, teaching school was no picnic either.
Cabinet member: Excuse me, can I go to the bathroom?
Golda (shoots him an angry look): Regaa!
Cabinet member (sheepishly): Sorry.
Golda: But enough about me. I heard you’re a Big Macher in the Democratic Party now. Mazel Tov!
Linda: Thanks. So like what do you even do down here?
Golda: Well, Linda…. Last month some of our….’cousins’…. decided that the best way to get the world to listen to them is to sneak into the Olympic Village at night and murder my boys. So now I’m about to go medieval on their asses.
Linda: OMG I just can’t even.
Golda (soothingly): Linda, my dear. I’m only setting these guys up on the World’s Greatest Speed Dating Event. Each of them gets 72 partners. And they’re good girls. Good, good girls.
Linda: I just can’t believe this crime is being inflicted on a Community of Color.
Golda (looks at her tanned olive-hued arms. Looks at Linda’s decidedly pale face. Looks at her arms. Looks at Linda): Tell me more about this Community of Color, Bubbele.
Linda: I refuse to sit silently while you marginalize me and discount my struggle.
Golda: You’re right. I have a better idea. Get the hell out of my Situation Room.
Linda: Fine. I’m leaving for now. But I’ll be back. I have the Right of Return!
Golda: Actually you don’t. But we hope you enjoyed your visit to Israel!
(Linda dematerializes, Star Trek style. Fade to Black)
Woman: Are you Hannah Szenes the Zionist?
Prisoner (with weary sarcasm): You can just call me Hannah. But yes. Yes I am.
Woman: Well my name is Linda Sarsour. And I have traveled from the future to inform you that you are not a feminist.
Hannah: Oh hey Linda. Of course, of course. I follow you on Twitter. And I guess you have a point. I mean, I only parachuted behind enemy lines to fight the Nazis.
Linda: By the way, did you know that Saudi Arabia offers 10 weeks maternity leave? Pretty good huh?
Hannah: Hey that’s great, but the Gestapo just said I’m going to be shot tomorrow at dawn because I won’t snitch. So, like not that relevant, know what I’m saying?
Linda: Whatever. I just came here to speak truth to power.
Hannah: Look, I appreciate that you stopped by. I really do. You’re the first visitor in weeks who didn’t click his heels like Ralph Fiennes in Schindler’s List. But did you bring anything to help? A nail file? I could saw my way out. Maybe a hair pin? I could stab the guard tomorrow.
Linda: Sorry, but this whole war is a bit too intersectional for me.
Hannah: I hear you. Listen, I’m going to try and sharpen my toothbrush into a shank now.
Linda: I need to leave this construct of weaponized whiteness.
Hannah: Great; thanks for stopping by. Oh and give Mufti Al-Husseini my regards.
Linda: You’re such a racist.
Hannah: Don’t let the steel door hit your tuchus on the way out.
(Linda dematerializes, Star Trek style. Fade to Black.)