Ari Mahler was working at Allegheny General Hospital last week when a man was wheeled in screaming, “Death to all Jews.”
The man on the stretcher was none other than Robert Bowers and he had just opened fire at the Tree of Life synagogue in Pittsburgh at a baby naming ceremony. Bowers killed eleven people and injured six more, all the while shouting anti-Semitic rhetoric.
Bowers was taken to Allegheny General with multiple gunshot wounds. The nurse who treated him, Ari Mahler, is Jewish.
Here’s what we can learn from Ari Mahler.
But instead of meeting Bower’s hatred with not unreasonable hatred of his own, Mahler showed him compassion. In a heartfelt Facebook post, the nurse explained why.
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.
If more people thought this way, the world would be a better place.
The way Ari Mahler lives honors the saying, “Be the change you wish to see in the world.” He had every reason to hate the man he was treating, but he put his feelings aside. He did his job and he did it with kindness and compassion in his heart.
In these days of hate, scorn, fear, and rage, all of us can learn from Ari Mahler’s example.
I am not surprised by this nurse’s actions. People that are called, and it is a calling, to become a nurse are the most compassionate people in the world. He had a job to do and he did it. Regardless of personal opinion, which real nurses leave outside their workplace, the patient comes first. Bravo to this nurse, I am proud to share the profession with him.
I like Jewish people and they are entitled to their opinion as is everyone, however, they DO vote Dem 82% of the time, all the time, as part of their religion. They also own almost all of the tv media conglomerates and dictate the super heavy liberal agenda we see on TV today.
He should be very proud of how he handled the situation. I’m not sure that I could have done the same, or would have. It does give me hope that there are people like this nurse, and not more like the shooter.
Ray
My mother was a nurse, and she was called on to treat many hateful people. Being a nurse means that you rise above and stand with all those who came before and will come after: nursing is a calling to do God’s Work. It doesn’t matter what religon the nurse is, what matters is healing the sick and comforting the living. Bravo to this wonderful gentleman!
God Bless him. I am a retired ER nurse myself. It IS a calling. And you DO put your personal feelings aside. You have one aim, to provide the best care possible for your patients, regardless who they are or what their circumstances are. Once the patient is stabilized, care provided, and sent on their way (be it for further care, into police custody, or just on their merry way) , you process your feelings. I have not personally seen or read any of the press coverage of this part of the event, but I am sure that MSM is not treating Mr. Mahler very well. That is a shame, because he did his job and did it well. That is all that should matter, period. The fact that he is Jewish should never have become a factor. (The fact that the shooter came into the hospital yelling what he did likely gave Mr. Mahler a moment of pause. I know it would have been so if it were me. But he went ahead and did his job with professionalism. ) He is a nurse, first and foremost, while in the ER. In that position, being male or female, Jewish/Christian/pagan/whatever, does not and should not matter.