I’m writing this on the plane to Israel. I haven’t seen my brother and sister for 10 months, too long. I’ll arrive early morning, met by my brother to bring me up to Jerusalem. Or else I’ll take the train.

They don’t call me Eve there, they call me the equivalent Hebrew name that appears in the Bible, Chava (like Hava, only a throatier H). It reminds me of parents that are gone, old generations, family, and legacy. I’m the fortunate recipient of a very rich legacy, of strength, determination, and love.

The day before I left, I asked the podiatrist working on my foot: “Do you have a library sign in front of your home?”

She hedged a bit. “No. I haven’t made up my mind about it.”

On June 24 our town is holding a vote on whether to approve the construction of a big library, and I’m taken aback by the harsh rhetoric. It will cost some $23 million and the state will supply half, but we will have to pay the rest, which means a substantial increase in local taxes. I won’t rehash the argument here except to say that, from the yard signs, you can tell that the better educated are ready to pay up, while those with a less fortunate background are voting against it.

It’s the anger that surprises me, both sides accusing each other of malfeasance, lying, ignorance, privilege, and even abuse. The last time I witnessed such vitriol here was when we had to vote on removing the name Indians from local sports teams. If anything, this may be worse. It’s about a library, for God’s sake, I want to tell people. But of course, it’s not just about a library.

At the same time, various towns in the Valley have taken votes on calling their towns Apartheid-Free towns, opposing “genocide and settler colonialism” that they see taking place in Israel. Some towns approved this, others did not. I opposed this for a couple of reasons. First, because I think that labels, such as the ever-popular colonialism, conceal more than they clarify. You can call certain of Israel’s actions execrable–I certainly have–without resorting to labels that ignore difference and nuance.

But I also fail to see what good such motions do to the parties directly involved. Folks in town go home and feel good about themselves. There are winners and there are losers, which is not appropriate in such a context. The word performative comes to mind.

You want to change society? You really want transformation? Start with yourself, and maybe get ready to give something up.

For example, consider the lack of affordable housing in our area. A lavish estate went up for sale in an adjoining town when its owner died and the man’s children proposed to develop it into housing. There was potential for lots of housing, including affordable units.

As usual, the town hemmed and hawed. Not that people are against housing, God forbid—but there are issues: It’ll change the town. It’ll change the neighborhood. What will happen to our roads? What about light pollution (a big thing in our area that most outsiders never even heard of)? What about the schools? The maintenance? Who are the people who will live there?

These things come up every time an issue like affordable housing comes up. Nobody in our progressive Happy Valley is ever against it, but then the various what-ifs emerge, all of which necessitate long studies and much committee time, and finally, running out of patience, the relevant estate was sold to another owner and the potential for new housing went out the window.

And repeat this scenario. And repeat. And repeat in progressive town after progressive town all across our country. We’re all for it, but we don’t want to change the neighborhood. We’re ready to change Israel, Palestine, the world, just not our neighborhood.

You can fixate on Donald Trump or on settler colonialism (whatever that means) all you want, but that won’t bring transformation. Real transformation, by its nature, will change things, including the neighborhood. Not all of it, not most of it, but certain things for sure. You may see more vehicles on the roads, maybe more stop signs, maybe even traffic lights. Maybe more “light pollution” from more homes or to illuminate our roads better. Maybe more congestion.

You may have to let go of the placid insularity that characterizes these towns. You might find that the town of your parents and grandparents is indeed changing right under your feet—and is that so bad? Or is it always others whom we want to see transformed, not ourselves?Let them give things up, let them sacrifice. Just not us.

Before I left, I heard from dear friends and students: Be safe. Take care. Take care of yourself. I say those words to others, too. But lately I’m noticing the traces of fear behind them: Take care of yourself; keep yourself together, stay as you are, don’t let anything change you too much.

Intentionally or not, we sometimes give fear to others. It’s nice to say “Take care,” I do it all the time, but how often is the affect, the undertone: Be careful. Don’t let bad things happen. Stay as you are.

Change will happen anyway. And don’t we want to affect that change in a positive, beneficial way, bringing relief from sorrow and pain? Don’t we want transformation for ourselves, our communities, our country, our world? If we do, let’s accept that things will happen, that we won’t stay the same, neither will our communities. Is that a bad thing?