Waging Justice: A Doctor’s Journey to Speak Truth and Be Bold

By Dr. Paul Zeitz

Waging Justice is a memoir by Dr. Paul Zeitz, forthcoming by Balboa Press in September 2018. In unflinching prose, Dr. Zeitz shares a lifetime of struggles and hard-won lessons as a doctor, activist, father, and son. His complex dance between healing others and healing himself ultimately transforms the inexplicable anger and disappointment he felt at the state of the world and his own past into full throttled, open-hearted, soul-satisfying action set on a global stage. Waging Justice is a personal story and also a universal one: a story of action, of courage, and of forgiveness; and a rallying cry to wage justice in our lives, speak the truth, be bold, and take action in the world today.

Twitter: @paulzeitz | Facebook: @drpaulzeitz
website: https://www.drpaulzeitz.org/
For me, justice is the path to peace!

Kirkus Review: https://www.kirkusreviews.com/book-reviews/paul-zeitz/waging-justice/

• Language: English
• Publisher: Balboa Press
• Release date: Jun 16, 2018
• ISBN: 9781982205430

Dr. Paul Zeitz

Dr. Paul Zeitz is a physician, an epidemiologist, and a tenacious, energetic, award-winning advocate for global justice and human rights. He has dedicated his career to catalyzing large-scale global impact. He serves as the co-founder of SDG Compacts and the Sustainable Development Games at the Global Development Incubator and the U.S.A. Focal Point for Action for Sustainable Development, a global social movement. He is married to his wife of twenty-seven years, Mindi Cohen, and they are the proud parents of Cletus, Lian, Yonah, Emet, and Uriel.

Book preview

Donation Commitment

126924.png

100 percent of proceeds from the sales of Waging Justice will be donated to sustainable development.

Praise for

Waging Justice

126924.png

Waging Justice is a deeply personal story of courage and compassion with global implications. This heartfelt memoir shows how a doctor with vision can help fix what’s broken in our world. Dr. Zeitz is a man of conscience who shares my commitment to bringing hope to the world’s poor. Please read Waging Justice. You won’t regret it!

—Archbishop Emeritus Desmond Tutu

I’ve known Paul since 2001 when we first teamed up in the global fight against HIV/AIDS, and we’ve worked together ever since. I’m moved by the backstory in Waging Justice, as Paul inspires me with his courage and tenacity. Put the biggest boulder in the path of the ambitious, stubborn, and hardworking Dr. Paul Zeitz and you can be sure he’ll find a way around it. If not over it, under it, or around it, he’ll grab a jackhammer and pound right through it. Paul is a driving force in ending the epidemics of AIDS, poverty, and sexual abuse that are raging through the world. Paul brings his can-do spirit to everything he does, including fighting for justice. This is a book you want to, no, you have to read. Dr. Zeitz’s voice should be heard by everyone.

—Alicia Keys

"In a world of searing injustice and glaring inequality, Dr. Paul Zeitz is a reminder that love, truth, and compassion remain the strongest forces on earth. His story is inspiring, challenging, and hope-restoring. I hope Waging Justice is read widely and his example is emulated more widely still. With people like Dr. Zeitz on our side, achieving the Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs) is not just possible, it’s distinctly probable."

—Dr. Tedros Adhanom Ghebreyesus, Director-General, World Health Organization

By raising his voice and standing up for what is right, Dr. Paul Zeitz’s work has saved countless lives. Paul has made invaluable contributions to global health with his bold vision for addressing the AIDS crisis and his passionate advocacy in Washington and on the global stage. Waging Justice is a must-read for the peace and justice warriors of our time.

—U.S. Congresswoman Barbara Lee (CA-13)

Dr. Paul Zeitz’s story is a combination of serving humanity according to his oath as a health professional and questioning the injustice and inequality surrounding us. He does so fearlessly, with courage and passion. Waging Justice is what everyone in the world who is working on sustainable development needs and a must-read for professionals and activists.

—Advocate Bience Gawanas, United Nations Under-Secretary General and Special Adviser on Africa

Waging Justice is one of those special books that shows someone to be ordinary and extraordinary at the same time. Dr. Paul Zeitz is just a regular guy but his journey so far has been nothing short of amazing. All of us have the defiance gene, but Paul shows us that when you put your mind and heart to it, you can achieve wonderful things, whether at home or on the world stage. This book is inspiring, whether you want to be a better parent or want to end poverty around the world—or both.

—Dhananjayan Sriskandarajah, PhD, Secretary-General, CIVICUS

Waging Justice is an extraordinary testament to the courage of one man, Dr. Paul Zeitz, who fights to build a world of greater justice and equity. This is a story of a man with a vision and a mission, a man with deep determination to do as much as he can to help heal the world, and a man who finds ways to emerge from the burdens of personal trauma to be able to make a difference for others. In Waging Justice, Dr. Zeitz travels the world, sets up organizations, builds relationships, and speaks truth to power. Determined to wage justice, he would not let go of his vision, and as a result he has built amazing coalitions to bring health and justice to all people. Hundreds of thousands of children around the world owe their lives to his actions.

—Ruth W. Messinger, Global Ambassador, American Jewish World Service

Waging Justice is a moving story that traces the path of a life dedicated to seeking justice. Dr. Paul Zeitz takes us on a journey of global activism for equality that is forged in a very personal mission to reclaim and rediscover dignity. This memoir is a fascinating, intimate exploration of the connection between confronting personal challenges and taking effective public action. Waging Justice is valuable reading for anyone interested in the personal seeds of political change.

—Chris Collins, President, Friends of the Global Fight Against AIDS, Tuberculosis, and Malaria

Dr. Paul Zeitz is a passionate, articulate, and visionary change-maker—but above all he is courageous, showing us how healing oneself and healing the world are intricately connected. Waging Justice is truly trailblazing, a book that stands up to centuries of taboo and secrecy, and opens a door, allowing ALL of us who have experienced sexual violence to come forward. Waging Justice invites us to let go of the shame we often carry, and to be part of a global and inclusive healing movement.

—Daniela Ligiero, CEO, Together for Girls

A bold, honest, and courageous tale by an unusual human being. Dr. Paul Zeitz bares it all in this story of his life’s struggles to find inner peace whilst fighting injustices of this world. From a dedicated AIDS activist who fought so hard to help so many in Africa, Waging Justice is captivating and full of surprises, making it difficult to put down.

—Ngozi Okonjo-Iweala, Chair, Global Alliance for Vaccines and Immunization (GAVI) and Former Finance Minister, Nigeria

Waging Justice provides an intimate slice of the history of the global fight against AIDS, and is a story of personal healing, frankly told. Dr. Paul Zeitz is a hero in the fight against the AIDS pandemic who transformed personal pain into a global commitment to boldly tackle the injustices that have allowed this pandemic to persist. Coming at a time when the United States government is wavering in its commitment to bring the AIDS pandemic to an end, this book is an important appeal on behalf of millions of people whose lives are at stake.

—Reverend Charles King, President & CEO, Housing Works

Waging Justice is a savagely honest account of faith, love, and conviction. Dr. Paul Zeitz’s quest to sustain passion and compassion through physical, mental, and professional barriers reads like a roadmap for anyone seeking to know thyself in order to serve others. Through the decades of navigating turmoil both global and internal, Dr. Zeitz exemplifies qualities of youth with the boundless energy and magnetic optimism that continue to permeate his work.

—Katherine Kennedy Townsend, Executive Director, Open Data Collaboratives

Waging Justice is a significant book that inspires and charms, but most importantly, it is a book that helps us know the personal as political. The courage it takes to transform the world is the very same courage that is needed to heal ourselves. With beauty and humor, Dr. Zeitz shows us that it is only through our own personal healing that we find the hope, resilience, and valor to change the world.

—Rabbi Shefa Gold, Author of Are We There Yet? Inspirations for Travel

A very personal and mission-critical story, Waging Justice traces the genesis of one man’s fierce social justice activism to its roots in his own lived experience of injustice and pain. Dr. Paul Zeitz takes us through the maze of trenches on the front line in the war against HIV/AIDS and reveals a rich tapestry—from the very personal to the brutally political struggle of the world’s 36 million who live everyday with HIV. Waging Justice is a story of commitment, determination, vision, and belief—it inspires hope in all of us that one little step in the right direction can transform the self and the world for better and for good.

—Jon O’ Brien, President, Catholics for Choice

Waging Justice is an amazing book that you’ll want to read twice. Once holding your breath as a poignant story of abuse, incest, and reconciliation unfolds. A second time to savor the vision, integrity, honesty, and energy of a man of justice who inspires us all to fight a little harder for the world’s children.

—Jennifer Margulis, Ph.D., Award-Winning Author, Your Baby, Your Way, and co-author, The Addiction Spectrum

Dr. Paul Zeitz has been at the center of transforming health rights denial and climate chaos, two of the planet’s greatest challenges. His story that is deeply personal and political at the same time. Waging Justice is relevant in a world where we have the knowledge and financial resources to keep the entire world safe, healthy and dignified, yet millions die needlessly.

—Irũngũ Houghton, Executive Director, Amnesty International Kenya

Reading Waging Justice is an opportunity to walk in the shoes of a doctor turned humanitarian and turned fighter for social justice during the height of the AIDS crisis and beyond. It’s an intimate journey through the Dr. Zeitz’s fascinating life and how he came to make the choices that so few often do. It’s inspiring to witness his transformation and provides the reader with hope for our future. Waging Justice is highly recommended for all to read.

—Susan McPherson, Founder and CEO, McPherson Strategies

I honor Dr. Paul Zeitz, a bold and courageous physician and activist, for the way he has chosen to share his truth and passion in such a vulnerable, riveting memoir. The tremendously inspiring Waging Justice motivates all of us to join together to combat the many ills and injustices of our society. From a psychological perspective, this memoir beautifully chronicles how facing our inner demons empowers us to be able to thrive even more in our personal and professional lives, and intimately demonstrates the power of love in overcoming significant life barriers. Today more than ever, Dr. Zeitz’s story stands as a testimony for how one man can make a tremendous difference, offering hope in a time when it can be difficult to hold on. And although one person can achieve greatness, when he or she joins forces with other passionate, loving, justice-seeking pioneers, the impact on millions is felt globally.

—Dr. Howard Fradkin, Author, Joining Forces: Empowering Male Survivors to Thrive

Waging

Justice

128477.png

A DOCTOR’S JOURNEY

TO SPEAK TRUTH AND BE BOLD

128485.png

DR. PAUL ZEITZ

128459.png

Copyright © 2018 Dr. Paul Zeitz.

Jacket design by Karen Phillips

Author photograph by Connie Z. Reider

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Balboa Press

A Division of Hay House

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.balboapress.com

1 [phone]

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

The author of this book does not dispense medical advice or prescribe the use of any technique as a form of treatment for physical, emotional, or medical problems without the advice of a physician, either directly or indirectly. The intent of the author is only to offer information of a general nature to help you in your quest for emotional and spiritual well-being. In the event you use any of the information in this book for yourself, which is your constitutional right, the author and the publisher assume no responsibility for your actions.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

This book is a work of non-fiction. Unless otherwise noted, the author and the publisher make no explicit guarantees as to the accuracy of the information contained in this book and in some cases, names of people and places have been altered to protect their privacy.

ISBN: 978-1-9822-0542-3 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-9822-0544-7 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-9822-0543-0 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2018906485

Balboa Press rev. date: 02/29/2020

Contents

132344.png

PART ONE FORMATION

Chapter 1 Things Are Not Always as They Appear

Chapter 2 Defiance Burger

Chapter 3 Young Patriot

Chapter 4 Israel

Chapter 5 Becoming a Campaigner

Chapter 6 Becoming a Healer

Chapter 7 Behind the Iron Curtain

Chapter 8 Walls and Cages

Chapter 9 An Ounce of Prevention

Chapter 10 Love at First Sight

Chapter 11 Hiroshima

Chapter 12 Orphan Escorts

Chapter 13 A Proposal

Chapter 14 I’m in Heaven

PART TWO UNIFICATION

Chapter 15 Nigeria

Chapter 16 Unconditional Love

Chapter 17 Unexplained Illness

Chapter 18 Family Expansion Project

Chapter 19 I Fight for Child Survival

Chapter 20 My Djembe Drum

Chapter 21 Zambia

Chapter 22 Lusaka

Chapter 23 Inner Racist

Chapter 24 View from the Apocalypse

Chapter 25 The Death of a Friend

Chapter 26 Intractable Problems

Chapter 27 Shroud Practice

Chapter 28 Morning Coup

Chapter 29 Let Us Act

Chapter 30 From Jaw-Jaw to Now-Now

Chapter 31 Another Family Expansion Project

Chapter 32 Second Chance

Chapter 33 The End of the Rope

PART THREE DEMONSTRATION

Chapter 34 Returning Home

Chapter 35 Break the Silence

Chapter 36 Angel of Light

Chapter 37 The Global Fund Is Real

Chapter 38 Dublin

Chapter 39 What’s Going On?

Chapter 40 Donate the Dollars

Chapter 41 The President’s Emergency Plan

Chapter 42 Broken Promises

Chapter 43 Arrested

Chapter 44 Soccer Dad

Chapter 45 Justice for Orphans

Chapter 46 Visiting Home

Chapter 47 Arch Tutu

Chapter 48 Pilgrimage

Chapter 49 Birkenau Boomerang

Chapter 50 What About the Boys?

Chapter 51 Yes, We Can

PART FOUR REVELATION

Chapter 52 Breaking Point

Chapter 53 Kaleidoscope

Chapter 54 Shattered

Chapter 55 Standing for Peace

PART FIVE LIBERATION

Chapter 56 Speak Truth

Chapter 57 Justice Experiments

Chapter 58 Occupy Justice

Chapter 59 Purification

Chapter 60 Endless Possibilities

EPILOGUE

READING GROUP GUIDE

Introduction

An Antidote to Hopelessness

Topics and Questions for Discussion

Enhance Your Reading Experience

Build the Movement

Acknowledgements

About the Author

For Mindi Eve Cohen

I am my beloved and

my beloved is mine.

—Song of Songs, 6.3

PART ONE

Formation

The future belongs to those who believe

in the beauty of their dreams.

—Eleanor Roosevelt

CHAPTER 1

128525.png

Things Are Not Always

as They Appear

128538.png

MOM wanted another child after my sister, Marci, was born. Dad was ready to stop trying, but Mom was determined. Her persistence paid off and three years later, on May 17, 1962, I was born in Northeast Philadelphia, the second child and only son of Sandy and Mark Zeitz. Eager to be part of this world, I arrived about a month before my due date.

We lived in a small, recently constructed twin row house in a burgeoning multi-ethnic neighborhood. My earliest memory is of a day when I was about two years old. I was outside and saw Mom was in the passenger seat of a car pulling out of our driveway. I was panicked and confused, because I didn’t know where she was going. I started running down the block after her as fast as my toddler legs could carry me, past a dozen rowhomes, until I finally tripped on a crack in the sidewalk and fell flat on my face. My two front teeth lay on the concrete, their tiny baby roots still attached. Bloodied and terrified, I watched the car carrying Mom turn the corner and vanish.

A stranger rushed to my side, and then my mom’s mother, Grandma Rose, who was watching me, came running down the block.

Mom never saw me fall.

A rushed trip to the dentist turned out to be futile, as we were told that my two front teeth couldn’t be reattached. I lived with an embarrassing gap until I was eight years old and my adult teeth mercifully arrived. Seven years later, I ended up with a minor speech impediment and a mouthful of expensive braces.

My parents were in the Philly cheesesteak and hoagie business. By the time I was born, they owned two shops in Northeast Philadelphia, both called Mark’s Luncheonette, named after Dad, though everyone called him Mickey. My parents worked long, hard hours, coming home at night wearing the overwhelmingly pungent smell of fried onions.

Grandma Freda, my father’s mother, lived directly above one shop, so Marci and I would spend weekends at her place while my parents worked downstairs. Her husband, Pop-Pop Ben, was in a nursing home, suffering from end-stage diabetes. His legs had been amputated and he was in a vegetative state. I never recall meeting him. Dad rarely visited him, and when we did, Mom, Marci, and I waited in the car while Dad went inside for a little while.

Dad inherited his first hoagie shop from his parents and bought the second one in partnership with his older brother. But the second Mark’s Luncheonette failed when I was very young. Something bad must have happened, because my father and his brother didn’t talk to each other for more than twenty years.

There were other mysteries. When Mom was only four years old, her mother and father separated, then later divorced. I met Pop-Pop Marty for the first time when he unexpectedly showed up on our doorstep. Mom hovered nervously as I watched this unfamiliar man wander through the house, talking to the pictures on our living room wall. Marci ran to her room in fear, but I was more curious. I stayed close to Mom, trying to figure out what was going on. Mom served him lunch, and we tried to make sense of his mumblings.

Later, Mom told me that Pop-Pop Marty had been hospitalized several times for severe schizophrenia. He probably had other mental illnesses, too, but had somehow escaped permanent institutionalization. Pop-Pop Marty spent his days selling Philly soft pretzels at the stadium, and his nights sleeping in a halfway house on Erie Avenue.

Marci was always my greatest friend. Three-and-a-half years older than me, she cared for me, made my bed for me, and played with me. I was her living doll whom she spoiled endlessly. On Saturday mornings, we would throw a blanket on the carpet in front of the small black-and-white TV. When we got bored with cartoons, we played Boat or House.

When Marci played with her friends, I was the tag-along little brother. But I was a shy little boy and usually preferred to stay at home, reading or watching one of the handful of TV stations we received via the VHF antenna on the roof—often reruns of Gilligan’s Island and The Lone Ranger. Cartoons like Scooby-Doo and Dennis the Menace were my favorites. Mom wanted me to be more social, so she became a Cub Scout den mother. For a while, groups of blue-uniformed boys would tromp into our home once a week, but that didn’t last long. I never enjoyed the group activities. I felt more comfortable being a quiet observer, hanging out with Marci.

My father, an avid fisherman, owned a series of mid-size fishing boats, named Mammy I, Mammy II, Mammy III, and so on. The family often went on fishing trips to the Delaware River, the Jersey Shore, and the Chesapeake Bay, but I never liked fishing as a kid. I was terrified of the deep water and thought the fish guts and scales were gross. I even hated the taste of fish.

But my dad always seemed happier and freer on the water. On land, he was a more volatile and angry man.

We were Conservative Jews, moderately religious but very committed to the cultural and family bonds of Jewish holidays and rituals. We kept kosher in the house, but my parents were flexible with the rules, letting us occasionally eat Chinese food with pork and shrimp at the card table in the downstairs den—as long as it was on paper plates with plastic forks. If the pork wasn’t in the kitchen and didn’t touch the kosher plates, it was okay with my parents (and, presumably, with God). We celebrated all the Jewish holidays with our extended family and immersed ourselves in the cultural, food-oriented side of Jewish life.

I went to a Jewish nursery school at a place called the Neighborhood Center but entered the Philadelphia public school system in kindergarten. My first-grade teacher was a middle-aged, African-American woman named Mrs. Ridgely. I liked her, because she was always kind to me. One day she gave me a special present—a book called The Wishing Well.

My favorite first-grade subject was science, but I also enjoyed our art lessons. One day, we were doing a project that involved drawing large, multicolored flowers with crayons. We then covered the flowers with black India ink and scratched the ink off with blunt scissors. The flowers reappeared with a very different look and patina. I was happily coloring my flowers in bold red, green, and yellow tones when the kid next to me asked me why I was using the same colors that Mrs. Ridgely had used in her example. I became indignant and thought, I didn’t do that!

With the last name Zeitz, I was seated in the back of the room. I marched all the way up to the front, past forty pairs of inquisitive eyes, to gather more evidence. I looked closely at the teacher’s flowers and reaffirmed that yes, hers were different colors from mine. Seeking to confirm what I already knew was true, I confidently asked Mrs. Ridgely if my colors were the same as hers.

She looked at me quizzically. Yes, Paul, they are, she said gently.

I was stunned and twisted with confusion, even as my teacher patted my shoulder and reassured me that it was quite all right to use the same colors.

I walked back to my seat with my head down and slumped in my chair, my untrustworthy eyes squeezed shut.

I had no possible explanation for why my classmates’ eyes and brains were seeing things differently than I was. The young scientist in me was deeply shaken. This was the moment I became aware that not everything was as it appeared. And no two people ever see the world in an identical way.

The following week, hanging around the hoagie shop, I was talking to one of Dad’s part-time employees, Dan, who was studying optometry. Even as a six-year-old, I had respect for men of science. Mom had the idea to ask Dan if he thought there might be something wrong with my eyes. He brought out a special color-vision testing book and pointed to pictures of several circles containing dozens of different-sized, multicolored dots, which looked like bubbles to me. He asked me if I could see the number formed by the dots. On many of the pages, I couldn’t see anything.

I learned that day that I was severely red-green color-blind. I don’t see the world in only black and white, but I have a hard time distinguishing many shades of color. I frequently see something as blue when others see it as purple, and I’m always unsure of what color I’m seeing with shades of brown, red, and green. I can easily see red traffic lights. I can see the red-feathered breast of a robin if it is flying nearby. But I have a hard time distinguishing the red breast of a robin if it is sitting in a tree, surrounded by green leaves. I don’t see all the shades of a rainbow. Sunrises look very different to me than they do to most people: I can’t distinguish the subtle pink, reddish, and orange shades that I’m told can be seen. When I’m getting dressed for work, I must ask someone if the colors in my tie, jacket, and shirt are matching—as I tend to go terribly awry without assistance.

Although Dan had crouched on one knee while he gently explained that there was nothing wrong with me—that my eyes simply worked differently from other people’s—the truth is that this information made me feel different, alone, and afraid.

I knew this wasn’t normal. All I ever wanted to be was normal.

I learned a profound lesson that day as a six-year-old: I could never blindly trust what I saw with my own eyes; I had to investigate beneath the surface.

After that, whenever anyone heard that I was color-blind, they would point at their clothes or at an object and ask me over and over, What color is this? What color is that? I usually couldn’t tell. While this was a great game for my friends, who would guffaw with laughter, their eyes wide with disbelief, it was very annoying for me.

Meanwhile, things weren’t as they appeared at home either.

While both my parents were very smart, they never went to college. They worked hard, and the hoagie shop supported our little family. Like most young children, I thought my family was solidly in the normal range. I imagined that my parents were happy and successful. But, also like many families, there was a lot going on behind closed doors.

CHAPTER 2

128525.png

Defiance Burger

128538.png

OUR parents deeply loved us—that I never doubted. But my father’s rage seemed to simmer perpetually below the surface. He threw plates of food in outbursts during dinner. Fist-sized holes appeared in the walls. Months later, the holes would be patched with uneven plaster, but I could always see where they had been.

Dad never actually beat me, but