2023 EDITION | February 17–19, 2023
Who am I that you care for me?
It’s clear now. Two years of pandemic have shown us that the image of the self-sufficient, autonomous individual cannot stand up to the growing lack of motivation and the epidemic of loneliness, mental illness, gun violence. Likewise, the new paradigm of diversity, equity, and inclusion seems inadequate to respond to the concrete problems of division, injustice, and estrangement. Intriguing phenomena have appeared: the “great resignation,” the rise of influencers, the spread of cryptocurrencies, the metaverse. And then the specter of inflation and recession. Lastly, the war in Ukraine has taken us by surprise. Its images of unspeakable violence have reminded us of the mysterious existence of evil, and of our radical inability to deal with it, either as victims or perpetrators.
In the face of all of this, a desire for more genuine connections and real community has emerged, the perception that we are somehow interdependent. At a deeper level, the more I feel uncertain, ill-equipped to face life, deceived by empty promises, the stronger I ache to be seen, accepted, affirmed by someone in flesh and blood.
I yearn for someone who is not uncomfortable with my brokenness, put off by my failures, or embarrassed by my sadness. Someone who values my deeper questions, who is certain of the meaning of life and walks with me to meet it. Someone who knows me and, inexplicably, really cares for me.
Why do I have this yearning?
But when you said: you,
to me, yes, to me singled out,
I was higher than stars,
deeper than coral. …
You gave me possession of myself
when you gave your self to me.
—Pedro Salinas, “When you chose me”
Join us on February 17–19 for a weekend of public discussions, exhibits and live performances to encounter people who grapple with these questions and experience this “someone” in their lives.
