Ugh why does FOOD have to be problematic? Because it does.

I love this week's topic--food is just the greatest. It is unfortunate that there exists a petty rift between Palestinians and Israelis based on "whose" food hummus or pita or labneh or za'atar is. This is Arab food, not necessarily Muslim or Jewish, just Arab, and it's silly to argue about something as objective and simple as that, I think. As far as I have observed, one reason that Israelis tend to be defensive about ownership over certain foods is because of how common it is that Israel's right to exist is questioned and challenged. The Middle Eastern legitimacy that it gives someone to be from an Arab land(for generations) and to really be able to call hummus "their own" is a trait that Israelis from more recent, European roots, covet.
Food represents culture, history, birthplace, ancestry. As we have read in past weeks, the validity of the existence of the state of Israel is constantly being disputed, so it is understandable that Zionists and Israelis would cling to something as simple as food as a means of bolstering their case. Similarly, it is understandable that anti-Zionists and Palestinians and other Arabs would cling to food for the same reason. There is, admittedly, a good deal of cultural appropriation that occurs within Israeli society, but as was mentioned briefly in the July 2008 Street Food video, many Jews in Israel are just as much Arab as their Muslim or Palestinian neighbors. Something that I have witnessed that surprises and disappoints me is the lack of awareness within the Jewish population about the cultural appropriation that occurs in this context. I myself only relatively recently realized the appropriation that I had been exposed to for most of my life through Jewish education. There are countless articles about Israeli appropriation of Palestinian culture, this one being particularly thorough (and angry), and while some people view it as less of a big deal in comparison with, say, the continued construction of the settlements, it really is a huge deal and I believe that it is a very important issue that needs to be addressed before peace between civilians (not necessarily governments) can happen. Cultural appropriation threatens identities that mean a lot to a lot of people, and straightening out issues of misrepresentation and cultural belonging will enable Israelis and Palestinians to view each other in accurate ways that each group consents to.
1. How can a large-scale anti-appropriation program work?
2. How best can everyday civilians react to appropriation effectively and assertively but also kindly and in an understanding way that promotes discussion instead of angry confrontation and closed minds?
3. Does anyone think that focusing on this detracts from the larger conflict and is counterproductive(an issue I approached in a previous post)?

WOW OOPS OH MAN I forgot about this post yesterday. Whirlwind week. Here we go.

Our discussion today was a mini love-fest about the readings we've been having, and this is a good thing. Everyone is thoughtful, mindful, critical thinkers who are open to new ideas. In my group's discussion, we discussed Galit Hasan-Rokem's short but meaningful piece about the femininization of the city of Jerusalem and other lands throughout history. One group member mentioned that he had not noticed this trend before in studying history, and this surprised me considering that this is one of the first things I think about when I think about the history of a region--the controlling, possessive language used to describe a place. Once we discussed it a little bit more he said that, yes, he had definitely heard this language before in several places. This made me think even more about how feminist education is needed, not only to call attention to the mindsets that have been put in place throughout the years by male-dominated society (history writing/teaching and politics, especially), but also to offer ways of fighting it and eventually reversing it. 

These readings have also made me think more about something that has been on my mind for quite some time. As a child I thought that all Jews were more or less the same as I was, had the same values, liked the same movies, hated marzipan (just kidding, but marzipan is still super gross), etc. This might sound silly and naive, but it was only about 6 years ago that I realized that this was not at all the case. When I was in Israel to celebrate my Bat Mitzvah, I was walking around a religious area of Jerusalem and got harshly scolded for the shorts that I was wearing (it was 99 degrees out, *give me a break*). This was the first time, followed by instances of sexism, homophobia, and xenophobia that I witnessed coming from Ultra-Ultra-Orthodox people that I would have at one point considered members of my own extended family--the family of the Jewish people. Realizing this separation in values allowed me to think more critically about the fundamentalism that is present in all religions, including my own, and to say with truth and conviction that it's wrong and stupid (this is my very-very-proper and professional opinion).

I have to think, now, about how I will include anti-fundamentalist information in my curriculum. It's hard to change mindsets, but how else will peace be achieved if we don't try?

Jerusalem; Not a Woman.

What amazing readings. There are many questions that specifically Hasan-Rokem's and Sa'ar's pieces bring to light, such as 1. why land is constantly anthropomorphized (or rather feminomorphized, if you'll allow me to totally make up a word), 2. how and why that is problematic for people who live on that land and for the gender to which the land is compared, and 3. how that precedent/trend can be crushed (because really, it needs to be).

1. Land is physical, it is fruitful, it is beautiful, it can be claimed. It represents the purposes that men have, throughout history, assigned for women to fulfill, and in this sense it is easy to see how land has been gendered female and how it has been controlled and bought and sold and manipulated and coveted much like women often are.

2. This is clearly a problem, but it is important that we examine exactly why this is a problem. The readings help shine a light on the numerous issues involved in gendering inanimate objects such as land. The concept that since land is where people are born, is where things grow, is beautiful, and therefore is like a woman comes from the mindset that women have an inherent duty or responsibility to produce, to be used for production, to be beautiful, to obey and succumb. This mindset is clearly damaging to women, placing them in a binder (sorry, couldn't help myself) of limited options for ways that they can live their lives or contribute to society. For the people who live on this land, this mindset is damaging because it implies that there is a correct owner of the land and does not allow for co-ownership or collective ownership or--heaven forbid--no ownership at all. This has created, as we see with Jerusalem, violence between groups that see themselves as being the rightful owners and marginalization of less powerful groups living on that land.

3. If only the soil itself could rise up and declare its independence from the fundamentalist sentimentality and arbitrary control that people place upon it. "I'm land! Just live on me and stop fighting!" Of course it's not that simple. I really am not entirely sure how this problem can be addressed. The patriarchy is alive and well everywhere we look--can standing up to injustices we experience as women (and witness or perpetuate, as men or in some cases women) help dislodge land from the area of our brains that is reserved for things that our "mine and mine alone and no one else's"?

My questions for everyone are:
1. How can the anthropomorphizing of land be stopped, especially in respect to the female gender being assigned to it and therefore justifying its control and possession by people in power?
2. Whatever the answer is to that question, can it work in Jewish and Muslim societies, both of which have different ways of marginalizing women and trying to be the sole owners of special parts of physical land?

Music

Music plays an incredibly huge role in my life. I think that a love of music, whichever kind doesn't matter, is something that all humans share. I'm sure there's someone out there who could do without, but if you're anything like me you're listening to music every chance you get. I listen to music when I wake up and shower and brush my teeth, when I'm riding my bike to class, when I'm studying, when I'm hanging out with friends (this includes playing music), when I'm eating, and often when I'm falling asleep. I think some of this has to do with the ADD that I've always suspected I have, but it also has to do with how much music makes me think and feel, and with the fact that I just love that and cannot get enough of it. 

It may be weird to cite this, but last month I tweeted, "glad I listen to music in obsessive stints; every album has a clearly defined place in my memory timeline w/ moods, places, ppl, seasons". This couldn't be more true. As a tiny kid I remember the "classics" (Spice Girls, Destiny's Child, etc) that I would jam to, but more than those I remember artists that my mother introduced me to, including Joni Mitchell, Enya(!!!!!), Melanie Safka, Carol King, The Beatles, and Shlomo Carlebach. My middle school years brought obsessions with Dispatch, Tegan & Sara, more Joni Mitchell & The Beatles, Led Zeppelin, Neutral Milk Hotel, Iron&Wine, Panic at the Disco(yup), and Modest Mouse. High school Sophie was still into that music, but was a bit more punk, a bit more experimental, a bit more influenced by the suggestions that would pop up on youtube, taking me on endless chases of that perfect new band. I worked at the local library all throughout high school, and every CD cover that caught my eye was one that I checked out and listened to. This exploded my musical horizon, and led to countless exciting discoveries that I still cherish today. Coming to college, I made friends with/started living with a lot of local musicians and poets and over the past three years have been going to loud DIY basement shows, so my taste in music has expanded even further into the realm of sometimes gritty, sometimes soft, sometimes repetitive, sometimes nuanced and complicated (but always genuine, thoughtful, and beautiful) homemade music.

Writing this post is almost bringing me to tears as I think about how music has changed me and helped me grow and learn and think and act over the course of my life. Similarly to how the internet opened up my eyes to a lot of things that other people think and feel that I thought were unique to my mind only, music (both before and after I began using the internet daily and discovering cool things there) gave me windows into the lives of other people that I would not have otherwise had. Things that I was/am unable to experience were sung about in the songs I listened to, and I gained wisdom, empathy, perspective, confidence, and curiosity by listening to the lyrics.

People are able to communicate their own stories through music, and having the opportunity to just switch on the radio or whatever and hear someone's personal story is an invaluable privilege we have today. This storytelling/sharing helps me learn about types of people and ways of life that I had never myself encountered, and I myself have written down parts of my own personal story, however cryptically, for others to listen to and learn from. One school of thought in nation-building discourse is that in order to nurture peace in a country you must establish trust within the population, especially in cases where ethnic divides have driven a stake between two groups of the citizenry. One way of doing this which has proven effective in several cases is by increasing non-political interaction between members of society, like having more economic integration between ethnic groups or like placing a playground directly in between two distinctly separate communities. Another way of going about creating trust within a population is by sharing personal stories and narratives, specifically through music, which is so deeply enjoyed universally by basically everyone. I don't think that music alone can bring together an entire country that was once at war, but I think that music is a crucial, inherently human, simple way of communicating complicated and often emotionally-charged thoughts and opinions in a way that everyone (even those with differing opinions) can wrap their heads around.

The Consequence of Sound

My favorite piece this week was the excerpt from Parallels and Paradoxes. There were a few fascinating parts that really spoke to me.

The first was Said's observation that "there is a lot of sentimentality about 'homelands'" that he said he didn't care for. So many people, myself included, were/are raised with some sense of history and family ties to something--religion, geographic location, professions or other traditions passed down through generations. These are mostly arbitrary connections, and as we grow older we are more and more able to sincerely question their validity and their meaning and the place that we want them to occupy within our own lives, separate from the lives of our other family members/community members. This is obviously a common trope when discussing the I-P conflict, and it leads perfectly into the next section in the reading that I want to explore.

If one comes to the conclusion that historical connections and loyalties to places and religions and even family members is arbitrary and meaningless, one runs the very real risk of then delegitimizing the thoughts, feelings, and values of anyone who disagrees or identifies even a little bit with any of these connections. Pages 8, 9, and 10 address the concept of the "other" and how a shared experience (even one as small as citizens from two different countries playing the exact same notes at the exact same time) can break down those arbitrary walls between people who were told they should be enemies and believed that.

I usually zoom out at the end of my reading responses and try to think about how the lessons learned on the smaller, situational scales of the readings could be applied to the larger populations of Israel & Palestine (and areas elsewhere in the world, of course). This week, the questions on my mind are similar to some of the things that we've recently been discussing in class.
How can we create shared experiences on large scales, for example in a busy market street in Jerusalem or a shopping center in Tel Aviv or even--and this is a little crazy--in the settlements between Israeli settlers and Palestinians living behind the Green Line? Another question that follows, then, is about whether or not the problems between the two populations are trivialized by the attempt to create dialogue and friendship on a person-to-person level. After all, isn't that the best way to start building peace(this is not a rhetorical question)?

Priorities, hypocrisy, and critical thinking in pro-Palestinian activism

 There are a few points that I'd like to explore in this week's discussion response.
     1. The first is the criticism that Israel "pinkwashes", or flaunts and exaggerates its LGBTQ-friendly legislation and national attitude in order to garner the support and admiration of other nations and liberal citizens of the United States, especially.
     2. The second is the criticism that Israel is violating basic tenets of human rights (under international law).
     3. The third is the perplexing fact that, after the acknowledgement of the obvious fact that yes, Israel is guilty of human rights abuses, pro-Palestinian activists and others on the far left side of the political spectrum (which is where I myself stand) still fail to acknowledge or recognize the multitude of other human rights crises around the world that are exponentially worse than that of the residents of the West Bank & Gaza.

1. Yep. It does. It uses the face of its LGBT population as a diplomatic tool. It tries to make it seem as if Israel is 100% LGBT-friendly when it in fact is not. Israel, just like the United States, still denies LGBT couples the respect they deserve by barring them from marriage and the entire list of rights and privileges that come along with marriage. However, the claims made on promotional postcards or internet banners advertising Israel as an LGBT haven are that it is a beacon of hope for LGBT acceptance in the Middle East and that members of the LGBT community can live among society just as anyone else would and that there is a vibrant LGBT community thriving within Israel while just miles away in other Middle Eastern countries people do not dare to come out for fear of losing their jobs, licenses, families, friends, and even their lives. These claims are as true as they are in the United states and Israel has every right to be waving them around like oversized rainbow flags at the Jerusalem Pride Parade each year. People who fixate on Israel's pink washing are just distracting from the more urgent issues of homophobia in surrounding countries and in the Palestinian territories. Perhaps this is because they care more about the issues of Palestinians than they do about the issues of the LGBT community, and there's absolutely nothing wrong with that. Everyone has their priorities, but it's important to gain perspective and not attack those who are making strides in your issue-area while others are centuries behind the times.

2. Yep. It absolutely is. Just to use one example, it's tight grip of the transport of goods and people across borders in Gaza and the West Bank is damaging and unacceptable, even in the face of the radically decreased instances of Palestinian terrorism. Israel doesn't treat the Palestinians the way they should be treated--beginning and end of story.

3. Is this because of the activist's devotion to the region? Are they purely and solely concerned with what goes on in Israel and the territories and do they not really care about things that happen elsewhere in the world? If so, then fantastic. It's great that these people are dedicated to this one area and their one cause and they know what they want and how they feel and why and they're living in ways that are meaningful to them by championing this one cause. However, I do not believe that this is the case for the majority of pro-Palestinian activists today, especially not the American activists. American pro-Palestinian activists don't seem to acknowledge that there is not a single democracy in existence that is free of discrimination and mistreatment of marginalized populations, and that there are regions in the world where imperial legacies or corrupt ruling parties have created exponentially more hideous examples of human rights abuses (the Congo, North Korea, Russia, etc). Have these activists just given up on the issue of US abuses of Native Americans that continue still today? Are these activists blind to the killing of black youth and the funneling of them into prisons that is perpetuated by egregious US laws and deeply engrained prejudice? I have never received a satisfying answer to these question--does anyone have any insight?

Mm, mm, mm, mm, Feminismmmm

"alQaws strives for the social change and liberation that result from directly challenging and breaking oppressive social structures. We therefore view the adoption of 'feminism' as a means to break existing power relations and challenge hegemony in society to be a must. Hence we reaffirm our rejection of all forms of oppression in its various manifestations, whether these be patriarchal, economic, nationalistic or ethnic, in order to ensure genuine inclusivity in our community and for other marginalized groups."

This excerpt from the alQaws website totally speaks to me. Every society on Earth has repressive elements within it. Specifically in this week's readings we can see examples of behavior or traditions in the Ultra-Orthodox Jewish community that are restrictive of women and men alike. For example, women are socially prohibited from participating in politics and must wear extremely modest clothing, and men are socially pressured to spend their lives dedicated to the study of the Torah and the passing down of spirituality and religious piety/observance to later generations. I'm sure you're all aware of the heavy press that surrounds the oppressive activities and behaviors of certain sects or certain observance levels of Islam, such as the honor killings that were criticized in DAM's video and the practice of wearing Hijabs or modest clothing that many people criticize, most harshly in France with actual legislation banning certain types of religious clothing. 

This calls into question what feminism really means in terms of religious observance. I was raised in a very liberal, sex-positive, feminist environment. My family and I used to be religiously observant(of Judaism) and my mother, sister, and I would wear more modest clothing, often skirts, because it was customary. I didn't feel spiritually enlightened by the practice so it slowly became something I no longer did (the story is the same with going to synagogue and being religiously observant in many of the traditional ways). However, many of my Jewish friends feel a strong religious and spiritual connection to Judaism through the practice of modest dress, traditional prayers, and observance of "mitzvot"(commandments from the Torah) and holidays, etc. Similarly, many of my Muslim friends say that they enjoy wearing their hijabs and other sorts of traditional or modest dress because it is a way of connecting to their faith through tangible means. For some modest dress means focusing energy inwards and upwards, to the self and to the divine, not outward to appearances or attracting attention from others through superficial characteristics.

When discussing the issue of wearing makeup and still calling oneself a feminist (a question that my friends and I struggle with), a friend of mine once said that to her, "feminism means doing whatever makes you feel good". Immediately a million qualifications to that jumped out at me, like "what if that thing makes you feel good because it makes you feel more accepted by society and not necessarily by your true self?", "what if that thing somehow hurts other women or women's position in the world?", etc. 
Is feminism in a religious context doing whatever makes you feel connected to whatever god in which you believe? 
What are the limitations of this? 
Does something that makes you feel good have the potential to be oppressive or harmful to the way the world views and treats women?

Woah--Final Project.

In a rare moment of decisiveness, I have chosen a final project!

Having been through many, many programs, schools, and trips that aimed to educate me about Israel's history, the history of the surrounding lands, and about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict in general, I feel that I have a solid sense of what's out there. I know the books favored by different types of Jewish educators, I know the techniques used to equip students like me with the tools necessary to think critically yet supportively about our Homeland (as we were taught to call it and as I still see it today), I know the stated goals of several different types of educational programs and the methods that are seen as most effective in achieving those goals. Participating in these programs and learning from these different types of teachers has also given me insight into ways that this sort of education could be greatly improved and could produce better educated people who are more able to empathize with people from different backgrounds and opinions about this conflict.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, I believe in the cheesy cliche that "the children are our future". If we invest time educating Israeli and palestinian students of all ages (it's never too soon to learn about cooperation and peace), we'll be nurturing a new generation of empathetic, moderate, rational people who will be able to look past the fundamentalism, radicalism, or extremism of their parents' generation and come up with a peace plan that is fair to all and that will last.

So you're probably wondering where I'm going with this. I want to research effective ways of bridging cultural and religious gaps and create curriculum for Israeli and Palestinian youth so we can get this educational movement rolling! I've always been chastised for being a relentless optimist, so instead of growing older and "wiser" and more jaded, I'm just becoming more proactive about my high hopes.

This research will include looking at the question of normalization--how far can we take multicultural education without running the risk of dodging or dismissing the Occupation question? How can we challenge the Occupation while also acknowledging Israel's right to exist along with the right of the Palestinians to a state of their own?

Who knows what shape this will take; I might do an essay, I might make a few notebooks full of curriculum material (separate material for Israelis and Palestinians because each needs to be appealed to in different ways), I might to a mix of both.

The wall

I was quite young when the barrier was built. As a 10-year old (or so), I remember being torn…

Recent months had brought traumatizing news of the deaths of two of my cousins, one a smart, driven 17-year old and the other a father of 2, in separate terrorist attacks. Inbal was going home on a public bus on Friday afternoon to spend Shabbat with her family and Yanai was playing music with his band in a popular Tel Aviv nightclub. Both attacks were broadcast on American news outlets and were mourned by myself, my parents and sister, and our Israeli family over the phone. It was horrific.

Then I watched as the fence--the immensely tall, thick, concrete fence--was erected, and despite all that I kept hearing about how it would "keep the terrorists from attacking", I wondered about the other people behind the wall. I was missing something, I couldn't see the whole picture, and I wondered if anyone else felt the same way.

Subsequent months and years showed that, yes, terrorism had been drastically reduced, but so had the quality of life of those who lived in the shadow of the wall. It's so confusing, so deeply emotional that word--the "wall". The Wall (I'm referring to the Kotel, the Western Wall) is what I envision as the symbolic cornerstone of the religion with which I identify. It's where Jews go to have their prayers heard. It's the anchor of my people, a dependent and tangible testament to our survival and our unity and our refusal to submit to the forces that have sought to destroy us over the years. The wall (and now I'm referring to the separation barrier) is a symbolic cornerstone of war and a tangible testament to the fractured population and the violence that has decimated relations between two populations that used to live so peacefully not side by side, but integrated within each other.

The passing of time also showed the agenda of the wall. It was not entirely about saving lives from the scourge of terrorism, but it was about fragmenting the Palestinian population to a point where cohesion between those citizens/people would be nearly impossible.

1. Do you think that terrorism would increase if the wall were torn down?
2. What positives and negatives are there to destroying the wall or to leaving it standing?
3. I don't think that community understanding and Palestinian-Israeli grassroots peace movements have much say in this matter--do you think that high-level governmental negotiations are the only truly important factors in this instance?

Bibliography

Behind israel's curtain wall. (2008, Summer). Kurdish Life, , 17-19. Retrieved from
     http://search.proquest.com/docview/216335701?accountid=9783

EGYPT-HAMAS-ISRAEL: Gaza Wall. (April 01, 2008). Africa Research Bulletin: Political, Social and Cultural Series, 45, 3.)

E. Cohen, S. (2006). ISRAEL'S WEST BANK BARRIER: AN IMPEDIMENT TO PEACE?. Geographical Review, 96(4), 
     682-695.

Art

"Lofty notions of the peaceful power of hip-hop were met with the cold reality of life in a war zone." 

You could replace the words [hip-hop] in this quote from the article about Channels of Rage with anything, really. Give it a try: art, dance, music in general, storytelling, food, multicultural understanding. There have been countless attempts at bridging the gap between disparate groups, namely the Israelis and the Palestinians, and nothing so far has stuck (seeds of peace, peace oil, standup for peace, etc…). People have been left reeling over the decades, frustrated at their inability to line up the interests, beliefs, hopes, and values of Israelis and Palestinians.

One of my favorite artists is Idan Raichel, an Israeli Jew who started "The Idan Raichel" project in order to use music as a bridge across the borders that exist between cultures, religions, and races. The Idan Raichel Project's website reports that "since the release of their first international album on Cumbancha in the fall 2006 The Idan Raichel Project has become a global ambassador representing a hopeful world in which artistic collaboration breaks down barriers between people of different backgrounds and beliefs….To date over 95 different singers aged 16 to 91 years old from dozens of different countries and cultural backgrounds have participated in the Project’s recordings or performances."

However, this project has been criticized from distracting from/ignoring the problem of the Occupation.

I have participated in such projects mentioned above that hope to nurture friendship between Israelis and Palestinians (I worked with youth during two summers as a part of the Nesiya program and another independent high school program in Ramallah). We focused on discussion, games, storytelling, making art together, sharing each other's food and other cultural traditions. When these programs came to a close we felt very close with everyone who was involved, but I am not sure of the effect they had on each individual's opinions on the other group as a whole.

How does one work through and abandon years and years (generations, even) of learned prejudices against another group? It seems that experience--positive interaction over a long period of time--would be the only true way, because then people would really understand (not just superficially acknowledge) that people are people and that every person deserves equal respect and every privilege that comes along with that respect. 

This post displays, I'm sure, how completely lost and confused I am about this conflict. How can we solve this? 
Can we solve this? 
Is this a natural symptom of human difference?
What more can be done?

Who am I?????

First, I'd like to share this poem that I recently read and with which I immediately identified very strongly for several reasons. It's written in a romantic context but I feel that it applies to all areas of life.

different

Do not dilute this for me.  

Do not tell me, again, that I am special, that I am different.  

I am a variant, but I am not different.  

And for your intents and purposes,

I am the same.  

My heart breaks the same.  My ego bruises the same.  And my hopes shatter all the same.

Do not kiss my forehead or push my hair away.   Do not dilute the softness of my skin, the thickness of my hair.  Do not take the snakebite mark on my neck, do not take the scars from my knees.  

These are not yours to notice.  

You cannot love my voice, and you cannot admire the strength of my legs.  You are not entitled to the late-night adventure stories I dream, nor the early morning pep talks I whisper to comrades unseen.  

None of these are yours, and you cannot miss them.  

Stop complimenting my shoes, my earrings, my style.  Stop noticing me walking by, stop stopping to say hi.  Stop looking at me like you know me, stop pretending that it hurts to know you hurt me.

You are a puddle, a pothole, a scuff, a scrape.  You are fixed and forgotten with a wash and some tape.

I am not different to you.  But to someone, somewhere, I am.  And that’s not something I can let you dilute.

I am not fractured by you, because you are nothing new.  You are the same heart with the same start and the same predictable reason to depart.  And the fiction you weave is garbage.

Are you unsure?  Are you lost?  Have you met someone better, or just someone else?  

Is she different, is she special?  Does she know what you said to me?  

“I’ve never felt this way before, never imaged this was behind the door.  Never thought this would happen to me.”  

Then you must be slow, forgetful, what is it that you know?  Because I’ve met women like me, and they’ve met children like you, and this is really nothing new.

Do not water me down with words that mean nothing, because the little things you take from me mean something.  

These are not your freckles to kiss, or your whimsical laugh to miss.  These are my superior puzzle skills, and my harmonious trills.  That’s my calm and my speed, and that’s my ability to take the lead.  That’s my dislike of cottage cheese and my unreasonable fear of falling on my keys.  

You do not get to comment, to like, to share, to remember, to care, because these things belong to me and I’m much more special than you’ll ever be to me.

Do not dilute the things that make me, because someday I’ll be special to someone, and he’ll be special to me.

THE END

Here are a few of the objects in my home that show visitors who I am:

1. BOOKS.

I would not be who I am today if I had not grown up amongst piles and piles and piles of books. My parents' strong anti-television ways had a strong impression upon me, and I appreciate that they showed me how amazing it is to gain perspective and new experiences through books. I was raised as an observant Jew, and the one of the most important values that was instilled in me through my Jewish education was to never stop asking questions and exploring and delving deeper into things that interested me or meant something to me. This is one of my defining characteristics and something I'm very proud of and grateful for.

2. VEGETABLES VEGETABLES VEGETABLES.

I love food, you guys. I have very strong convictions about environmentalism, animal (human or otherwise) rights, globalization, and the responsibility that we all have to live as peacefully and as considerately and as thoughtfully as possible. Because of my beliefs, I am a vegan, so I spend all my days chowing down on delicious greens (and other things, of course, but mostly greens). 

4. ART

My parents are both artists, and so in addition to my love of reading they also gave me my love of artistic expression. This particular piece was done by the amazing folks at the Beehive Collective, and it's called "The True Cost of Coal". It illustrates the harmful effects of coal mining on all different types of life on earth, and on the earth itself. While this is a style of art that has a very literal meaning/purpose, I also appreciate more abstract or unclear types of art. I feel that it is extremely difficult for me to express myself in non-verbal ways(through music or dance or visual art of all sorts), but I'm constantly trying to push myself to explore these outlets for creativity.

Perceptions

I've chosen a few different articles for this week's blog post, and below I've included some important quotes from each of them that sum them up/ get to the heart of the issue that they discuss.

What type of language is used to describe Jerusalem and the event? What pictures or visuals accompany the text? What perspectives and biases are present? Can you draw a connection between your analysis of the articles and Dr. Nassar’s article or the material on contemporary art of Jerusalem? 

Failure of IDF and Shin Bet

This article speaks candidly about the harsh realities of the contradictions of the Occupation and the fact that, "young soldiers and officers identify with their basic mission of protecting Israelis in the territories, namely the settlers". It is a too-often occurrence that Palestinians in the territories are treated as guilty until proven innocent by the police or the IDF while Israeli settlers are usually treated innocent until proven guilty, and even then they are not harshly prosecuted, as is described in this sad sentence, "There is no similarity between the investigation of a Palestinian suspected of terrorism and the investigation of a Jewish suspect. The former is subject to sleep deprivation, psychological and sometimes physical pressure".  The article also notes that, "When extreme fringes among the settlers commit violence against Palestinians, few soldiers can internalize this and change their behavior." This article also recognizes in objective terms the deliberate land-grabbing that the settlements seek to continue: "The placement of settlements in the Shiloh valley was carried out after careful planning. They constitute a “finger” thrust eastwards, bringing the cluster of settlements surrounding Ariel closer to the Jordan valley".  

The perception of the IDF is something that is highly controversial, and this article cuts right to the center of why and how it is envisioned differently by different populations, namely pro-settlement and anti-settlement people.


The difference between violent Settler attackers & Palestinian terrorists is in name alone
"Here are some bleak statistics: From January 3, 2011 to September 15, 2013, the pogromchiks who went down from the outpost of Esh Kodesh perpetrated 28 attacks of various kinds. Fifteen of them involved beating and shooting, nine involved damage to olive trees, one case involved the killing of animals, one mosque was torched, one car was set ablaze, and one case involved threats"

This article is written in extremely critical language, but I approve. I agree that violence is violence, and that, ultimately, terrorism is terrorism (SHIT that was difficult to type-breathing now). People who deny the Occupation or deny the violent nature of many settlement dwellers just aren't being honest, and that will get us nowhere close to peace. Nassar would absolutely comment that the picture below, showing a Palestinian man aiding IDF soldiers in helping an injured settler to escape Palestinian attackers, improves the perception of the Palestinians and damages the image of the settler population. This photograph probably contributes to people's perception that the settlers are the perpetrators and instigators of violence and that the Palestinian population is more generous, peaceful, and innocent overall. 

Summary: "No difference between Settlers and Palestinian terrorists but in name alone."

Ein Hijleh non-violent protest village    &     More Ein Hijleh
"tensions in the West Bank will rise along with the risk of terrorist acts committed by Jews in addition to Hamas and the Islamic Jihad."

These two articles both praise the non-violent actions of the Palestinians who were involved in the initiation of the protest village of Ein Hijleh ("Salt of the Earth"). The image below (and many others) depicts these peaceful activists as people who want peace and quiet, despite being antagonized further by IDF soldiers who raided the village after dark to try to dismantle their efforts.

1. What are your perceptions based on these images?

2. What do you think is going to happen with the settlements and when?

3. Do you think that the world's perception of either side ultimately matters? Is the fate of each population up to the leaders who are making treaties and writing up legislation at the end of the day? Why or why not?

The Elephant in the Room….& my final project

     Growing up going to Jewish day school, attending synagogue, traveling to Israel to visit my family, and being an active part of the pro-Israel community in my city provided me with a great deal of knowledge and experience surrounding the conflict that I would not have otherwise had. It also saddled me with a handicap that was up to me to overcome. I'm talking about the blinders that are often put on Jewish youth in our formative years to focus all of our attention on the good parts of Israel without addressing or explaining the bad parts. I was educated extensively about all of the many reasons we Jews desired and needed a land to call our own, about the many battles fought and won valiantly and bravely in order to protect ourselves from those who wanted us eliminated. I always wondered about the side of the story that I was not as enthusiastically introduced to, and around 5 or 6 years ago I finally addressed the elephant that had been in all of the classrooms in which I'd grown up--the possibility that "my side's" record was not as spotless as I would have liked to believe.

      To further address the issue of Israel's roots and history, I would like to encourage all of you to read the book "My Promised Land" by Ari Shavit, but since I know you're all busy and won't get to it right away, definitely read this review from the New York Times. I CANNOT EMPHASIZE how important this book is, not only for Jews who identify as Zionists as I proudly do, but also for anyone else remotely interested in this conflict.


      This elephant is what we have been addressing in class so far, and I greatly appreciate the added perspective. Dr. Tamari and Betty Herschman's work has been crucial to the understanding of the conflict--they are both scholars who clarify and simplify this daunting topic. This is incredibly important work simply because of how many people this conflict affects and how central this conflict is in international politics.

     1.  After reading the review of Shavit's book, do you have any new thoughts regarding the material that we read in Armstrong's book and that we learned from Tamari and Herschmann?
     2.  Does this give you any new insights into the motivations(for existence or survival, for example) of the members of the Israeli or the Palestinian communities?
     3.  What do you think would be an effective way of educating young people in Jewish schools as well as students in Palestinian or Arab or Muslim schools to ensure mutual understanding, acceptance, respect, and friendship?


       The problems that I have with the way that Jewish educators often go about teaching students about Israel and Palestine are what I would like to focus on for my final project. I want to develop curriculum for Jewish and Arab/Palestinian/Muslim (I am grouping these three communities together here without equating them, recognizing their differences) children that will aim to create amicable relations between following generations ensuring that open dialogue surrounding peace negotiations can eventually happen--the children are our future! Cheesy but SO TRUE!

Another potential final project is to explore in more concrete ways than I ever have before how exactly one can go about ameliorating and eventually solving this conflict. This plan will include assessments of how effective government action has been and will be, and also how effective various types of "soft" diplomacy has been and will be. My passion for solving this conflict comes from my intense pride of my Jewish ancestry and the deep sadness that results from having this pride yet living in a time when Israel is so blatantly mistreating Palestinians.

Peace, y'all.

Peace or Victory?

    I would like to focus on the piece by Dr. Tamari that we read for this week in addition to the final chapters of Armstrong's remarkable book. The last sentence of Tamari's piece captured the sentiment felt by not only Shami but also by many still today, "he could not…overcome the shattered hope that there was room for reconciliation as the two communities were driven toward irresolvable national polarity". This sentence dovetails perfectly with Armstrong's observation that this "irresolvable national polarity" is what fuels the conflict and prevents peace from prevailing by causing each side to be more concerned with victory over the "other side" rather than peace. 

    This week's reading gave me a great deal to think about in terms of how to structure a realistic environment for peace to be possible. In the early days of the Jewish migrations to Israel, they established rival and competing economies and political structures to those already in place. After the Palestinian General Congress declared in 1920 that they would "throw back the Zionists with all our force",  in 1937 around 10,000 Palestinian and non-Palestinian Arabs, worried about the heavy influx of Jewish immigrants to Israel, staged a rebellion that was quashed by Israeli and British forces. This escalation of land purchasing and resentful violence cemented the hateful relationship between the two peoples that once lived peacefully together. 

     Both the Palestinians/Muslims and the Israelis/Jews want to SURVIVE. They want to exist. They want to have Jerusalem. They want peace, but they also both currently want victory. Al Quds, Yerushalayim, either way, both sides will have to acknowledge that the city is important to other people, too, and that those people are just as entitled to accessing it as they are. Pride, nationalism, fundamentalist religion, and arbitrary hatred are the obstacles that we must overcome before we can see peace, and this begins with cultural education.

1. How can we most effectively educate mass amounts of people about the validity of each peoples' narrative?

2. How can we ensure that the political leaders of the future have minds open enough to envision a country that acknowledges and values both nations?

3. What specific actions can be taken right now by the Israeli and the Palestinian governments to take steps toward peace?

Reading Response ch 8-13, week 3

"Human beings, man," is what I kept saying out loud, in bewilderment, as I progressed through this week's reading. We (I'm including myself in this grouping of all human beings) believe, say, and do some pretty weird things for reasons that we often cannot articulate. The concept on which I want to concentrate in this post is that of "that which was lost", since this seems to be what everyone in Judaism, Christianity, and Islam is trying to "regain" somehow.

The words "return", "consolation", "hope", and "reconstruct" or "rebuild" appear often in this selection of chapters (in ch 8 especially) in reference to all three faiths. Everyone seems to be harkening back to a past where we were much holier, much more connected to the divine, much more at peace with each other. This vague yet pleasant-soudning past exists largely in the myths that we examined in the first section of chapters, so one must have faith that these narratives are the truth before one can deeply desire their reemergence to reality. Once one has established this belief in the way things were in the days of yore and this desire for them to return, one must conceptualize how that return would be possible. Does it include the participation of others? Is it up to the individual to recreate that divine connection for themselves? Are physical objects or places involved in this resurrection, or perhaps certain words or actions or mindsets? How else could a lost people experience god but through old traditions?

Julian saw Christianity as a "fragrantly casting off of hallowed [Pagan] traditions" (p. 193).

John latched onto Christ as "the fulfillment of the old Zion cult" (p. 158).

The Jewish zealots who committed mass suicide atop Masada (p. 156) clearly preferred death over assimilation with their Roman attackers.

The entire Islamic faith is described as "a quest for wholeness that was lost" (p. 218).

On p. 156 we see one answer to the question of how to restore a divine past, that of Rav Yohanan during Vespasian's rule: he taught that Jews could recreate their holy past not by finding a new place to perform sacrifices and rituals, but merely by studying the word of god and by acting mercifully toward all other humans.

Another answer is in part given on p. 191 when Armstrong addresses the idea that god "[took] the body" of Jesus, therefore establishing a human connection. This concept convinced millions--billions, even--that god identified with us and that it is not ridiculous for us to identify with god, as well.

Islam is described as "a realistic faith" because it gave "human beings…symbols on which to focus" (p. 221).

In fact, this is what all three of these faiths have done in one way or another, and that is why they all prevailed. Humans can't go on words alone. The connection to a physical entity of some sort is crucial to retain our attention and dedication to an idea. The "places [or things or people or pictures or WHATEVER] where god had touched our world" (p. 191) are where humans have chosen to place eternal spiritual meaning. These are the places that we revere as being able to transport us to that mystical, idealized past where we were closer to god.

So now I ask you:

Is there a myth or tradition to which you hold on because of some variation on the feeling of loss and longing and not-being-totally-whole? Why? How? What do you think about this?

Is it reasonable/practical/useful for humans to place spiritual significance on a place or thing or person and then base entire rituals and lifestyles around it? Why?

Why are we so obsessed with the past? Why do we yearn for what was when we don't even know if it ever was that way?

Let's Solve This Thing.

Despite the fact that most of you reading this post may not click on them, I'm including a couple of links here and here to some short essays that I have written regarding the Palestinian-Israeli conflict and ways to resolve it.

Anyways.

     Remember that crazy study put out by some big scientific organization a while back that said that men think about sex every three seconds? That's me with this conflict. Needless to say I've gone through quite a number of opinions on how to bridge the Palestinian-Israeli divide, and still today my views are being shaped by conversations and experiences that I have, things I read in the news, or stories I hear about peacemaking in other regions. I expect my participation in this class will inspire still more changes, but I hope to communicate my current mindset in this post.
   
     It's incredibly difficult to even know where to begin when conceptualizing a possible solution to this conflict. To start off, do we look at where, when, and how this all started (and what that even means)? Do we draw up who-started-what charts complete with every war and rocket attack and civilian casualty on each side? Do we get intimidated by the heavy history books and the messy past of the region and just focus on what's happening at this very moment? And once we get past that part, let's address the question of who the "we" is that we're talking about. Who can actually make this happen? Who is able to most effectively broker a peace deal, or coax the Israeli and Palestinian populations into wanting to make peace with each other and believing that it's possible? As you can already see by the way I'm already tripping over my many thoughts regarding this issue, it's complicated. However, through the fog of unhelpful skepticism and the unreasonable, naive optimism and the damaging fundamentalism and radicalism that one is bombarded with when diving into the pool of information about the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, one vision remains in perfect view: peace is possible.

     There are parts of my mind that are drenched in Mediterranean sunshine and strewn with festive wreaths of olive branches when thinking about the future of Israel and Palestine because of the many formal and informal diplomatic initiatives going on currently, attempting to create the desire and motivation for peace on the person-to-person level as well as on a governmental level. There has been a growing trend over the past three decades or so in the area of grassroots peacemaking, using community building programs between Israeli and Palestinian youth to hopefully instill a sense of partnership and cooperation in the future leaders of the two nations.

     The more somber parts of my mind are littered with dust and rubble from the enormous security wall and splattered with blood of all those who have died as a result of this stubborn conflict. There have been studies done on the attitudes of the youth in Israel and Palestine that have reported the increasing stubbornness on either side and the lessened motivation for and belief in a future resolution. Even without these surveys it is possible to observe the belligerent attitudes of both populations, their deeply rooted anger fueled by each subsequent Israeli settlement built or rocket launched from within Gaza or the West Bank.

     I do not believe that it is realistic to expect the Israeli and Palestinian people to come to the unanimous decision that enough is enough any time soon. I believe that, despite the incredible importance of popular opinion & national attitudes, that formal governmental peace agreements are just as important. You just can't have one without the other in this situation. I also believe that the actions of both Israeli and Palestinian leaders do not always (or even often) demonstrate what they say is a genuine desire for peace. So what is to be done?

     On the road to reconciliation, the peace train is going to have to make a few stops (roll your eyes, see if I care--I love Cat Stevens).
     The first stop (step? stop? so confusing.) will have to be at the grassroots level. The attitudes of both nations must be more optimistic, more trusting, and more inclusive before the next step of progress can be taken. Why? Because of the children! No matter how cliche it is, it is true that the children of today are the leaders (and the voting constituents) of tomorrow, so I see it necessary to focus on improving conditions for more peaceful mindsets in each population right now, right at this very minute.
     Next comes the guys in suits (this masculine language has a purpose--I'll address the issue of women in government in just a minute). Right now they're not doing their jobs. They're just not. Words mean nothing without action, and when action is lacking, the citizens need to rise up and demand it. I understand that this is easier said than done (remember five seconds ago when I said that talk is cheap?), but once the populations each become more strongly devoted to the pursuit of peace(which was stop #1 on the peace track), they will elect leaders who are, as well.
     In the past, a cheap, shiny tourist attraction on the path to peace has been *women*. Women's involvement in this particular region of the world has ranged from UN-appointed commissions/teams to tiny, independent, citizen-driven community development programs trying to create peace between Israelis and Palestinians. No matter how effective these programs had the potential of being, we never found out because they have always been nothing more than side projects to the formal process of peacemaking--a process from which women have been routinely and systematically (and shamefully) excluded.

I will continue to write more about this as the semester progresses, adding on as more ideas come to me. Thank you all for bearing with me as my mind races from one idea to the next--the bottom line is we can do this.
         

Discussion Response Week 3

I'll start this post off by saying once again how much I appreciate the open atmosphere in the classroom, facilitated by Noura and contributed to by all of the students. I love it and value it. I thought that the discussion today was interesting, but also somewhat superficial (maybe not the correct word). This was potentially because of our collective, relatively limited knowledge regarding ancient history, or potentially because we all seem to view "true history" in a similar regard (we've all seemed to agree that whatever "really" happened doesn't really matter because people believe what they believe is true and not much can be done to change that). Today seemed to me to be more of a summary, where we all pointed out different parts about each section that stood out to us. While I do think that there is value to that, I know that in the future I will make a conscious effort to come up with questions (and raise them in class) that push me to think more deeply about the material that we read, even if it is predominantly facts….upon facts upon facts. This will allow us to not only quickly review the sometimes difficult material that we read, but also explore the implications of what we've just learned in Armstrong's text and others.
I think it's very interesting that so far we have all had similar opinions regarding the issues of truth, history, respect, discussion/debate, the role that religion plays/should play in narratives & other opinions. This, to me, does not hint that we all think the same way or that we all view this topic through the same lens, but simply that we are all logical, thoughtful people who understand and respect the complexity of the thoughts and opinions formed around this and all other contentious issues (this is another reason why I feel so comfortable in class).
Looking forward to next week, I expect we will be benefitting immensely from having read these history-intensive chapters as we move on to more modern history. It is incredibly important to have a strong foundation of historical knowledge before going on to analyze current events.
Can't wait to see you guys tomorrow!

Journal 1

      Since I'm writing this post so incredibly late (WHOOPS), I have the perspective of already having read Armstrong's first 7 chapters and her introduction, and this reading assignment has set the final stone in the foundation of the course for me. Coming into class on the first day I was expecting to find other students who were as passionate about Israeli-Palestinian relations as I am, and that's what I found. As for the professor, I had no idea what to expect. I had heard amazing things about the course, but only expressed in vague generalities--I had no concrete descriptions off of which to develop expectations. I was ecstatic at the end of the first class, feeling trusting and confident in Noura's knowledge of, passion for, and balanced approach to this topic. After reading Armstrong's chapters that were assigned last week, I feel as if I am carrying around in my backpack a treasure trove of easily digestible historical information and critical, objective observations about a subject that I was once too wrapped up in to make myself. I know that this book and this class will push me more that I've been pushed before to question why I think the way that I do, why I care about the things that I care about, and what implications and consequences that has.
     The concept that (paraphrasing Armstrong) many peoples' connection to a physical place is potentially entirely mythical is one that I've never felt comfortable acknowledging or addressing in conversation. Only in the privacy of my own mind have I most often entertained the jarring possibility that everything I grew up learning and believing and feeling is not real. I can't say definitively whether or not my journey away from religious observance of Judaism has impacted my views of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict because at the same time I was going through a period of intellectual transformation, as well, reading more and learning more independently than I had the previous decade and a half or so.
     This practice of keeping a blog and reading each others' thoughts and opinions is incredibly exciting to me. I appreciate having a space where we can individually reflect on what we learn and discover in class because this is a complicated and heavy topic and it's important to keep track of where we are personally with the information we explore. There is rarely a moment where I feel intimidated or afraid of sharing my personal opinion, but it helps when I'm in a space where I feel accepted, respected, and safe. I feel perfectly comfortable in class--everyone seems so nice and genuine and interested in having meaningful discussions--and I believe that this open atmosphere will lend itself to exciting discussions in the coming months.
     Todah rabah, shukran, thank you, Noura and everyone in class--I can already tell that I'm going to really love this semester spent learning with and from you all.

Week 3

Coming from the Christian community, Karen Armstrong seems, at the outset, to be an appropriate objective analyst of the different connections that Jews and Muslims (and Christians) draw between Jerusalem and their core identities. After reading the introduction and these first several chapters, it is clear through her meticulous detailing of events and her untinted view of the history of the region that she really is giving her readers an objective look at this city that has been at the focal point of so much of human history. The many maps included in the book represent the borders drawn during every observable time period, and this inclusion of so many iterations of the Holy Land demonstrates visually how complicated the question is of "who Jerusalem belongs to".

Beginning the book by describing introductions to Jerusalem from both her Israeli and her Palestinian friends and colleagues, Armstrong shows how people often "see the same symbol in entirely different ways". She muses on the fact that people can interpret myths and facts differently, and people can ascribe different meanings to places and events based upon their individual points of reference created by years of different experiences. This acknowledgment lets us know that Armstrong is acutely aware and respectful of the differing narratives and claims of "legitimacy" that both Israelis and Palestinians hold in regards to Jerusalem. When she eventually states the purpose of her book, which is to ask why Jerusalem is considered "holy" by Muslims and Jews (she provides the Christian answer), it is already clear that she has a genuine fascination with this phenomenon and a true desire to learn where conceptions of holiness ("sacredness") come from in these two religions/peoples. 

Her observations (about objectivity being difficult, the deep sense of loss/incompleteness driving the connection to a physical place, myths being important whether they're true or not, and the indirect experience of the divine, etc) are remarkably deep and succinct at the same time. They resonated with me as true, as concepts that I myself had considered before and come to similar conclusions about but that I had never been able to articulate as well as she does in her introduction. This feeling of familiarity shows how much effort Armstrong put into getting to the root of human thought and emotion--complex ideas like the ones she presents here are rarely easily communicated like they are in this book.

The first words of the first chapter, ZION, are "WE KNOW NOTHING about the people who first settled in....the city of Jerusalem". What an excellent way to set the tone to a book that is preparing to be honest, straightforward, objective, and historically accurate. I agree completely with the assessment of those who see this book as being objective because it really is (there is nothing "at stake" for Armstrong, seeing as her Christian connection to Jerusalem is not what is being questioned or analyzed by this book). For example, Armstrong addresses mythology(included in this category, necessarily, are biblical stories) in her introduction as being "an ancient form of psychology, because it describes the inner reaches of the self with are so mysterious and so fascinating to us", and then continues on to analyze Jewish and Muslim narratives of history with this critical lens. Her mentioning of biblical stories and her immediate questioning of them was similar to the skepticism with which Pressman addressed biblical accounts of events. Her clear value of the cultures of both Israeli and Palestinian, both Jews and Muslims, was reminiscent of the respect that Khalidi and Hasan-Rokem had for both peoples.

Before I conclude, I would also like to share some of my favorite parts of her introduction that got me immediately addicted to her writing style (and earned her my full trust and respect):

*history is a dimension of the present.

*people are obsessed with "who had done what first".

*"they see Jewish Jerusalem rising phoenix-like from the ashes of Auschwitz".

*"everybody will have to make sacrifices; everybody will have to compromise in the interests of peace"

*at the heart of devotion to a physical place is a yearning for reconciliation and wholeness that the pain of living deprives us of.

*peoples' connection/OBSESSION to/with Jerusalem is arguably purely mythical--could there be a truer yet more threatening statement that one could utter? I don't think so. Good for you, Armstrong.

*"the sacred has never been experienced directly...", rather, it is often experienced through a physical space/place, and Jerusalem is that place for three religions. 

*the concept of imitate dei because we feel incomplete.

*there are 2 parts to religion: 1. experiencing the divine, and 2. manifesting that connection into compassionate actions within our physical spheres of existence.

I have really enjoyed the Bernard Lewis books that I've read, and I also respect Peter Beinart as a credible and objective author regarding the Israeli Palestinian conflict.

Questions:
1. For anyone in class who have never before encountered huge amounts of detailed historical information about such a tiny physical space, how do you view Jerusalem's complicated history?
2. How does each person relate to different myths? Do you have myths that you believe in that you never before considered were myths? How do you handle uncertainty in this regard?
3. In the context of personal story/narrative-telling, when was a time where you felt that you were really being listened to? When have you really listened to someone else? What was the outcome?

I cannot wait to get to the rest of this book! Excellent choice, Noura--thank you!

Week 2 - HISTORY

Khalidi made a point of emphasizing that "the historian cannot afford to ignore what people believe simply because it is not verifiable using rigorous historical methodology", and also that "Jewish, Christian, and Muslim beliefs...must be considered with the utmost gravity".

These are crucial points that must be acknowledged as rules when listening to historical or cultural narratives, especially in this context.

When engaging in discussions (often arguments or debates) about the "original inhabitants" (Khalidi, p.1) of an area, the old adage about the tree falling in the forest applies: if a certain people were the "original inhabitants" of an area, but no one engaging in the debate today believes that, does it matter that they lived there at all? No, it doesn't. What matters is the beliefs of the parties engaging in the debate of what is historically accurate, and unfortunately these beliefs are often staunchly held and sometimes based in inaccurate/non-verifiable sources such as religious texts. I appreciate his recognition of the practice of taking narrative as common sense/indisputable fact.

The Rubin and Dumper pieces were pleasant, easily digestible, objective pieces of historical summarization--I don't have much to say about them other than the fact that they are good texts to include in a historical context.

The Pressman piece was a perfect assignment for this class, one I've encountered before, and one that is difficult for me to read simply because it is sad. It is sad that colonialism/imperialism played a part in the manifestation of the concept of Zionism, it is sad that Palestinian leadership has been so completely abysmal and ineffective, and it is sad that today we still only seem to be getting further and further away from peace. I am a proud Jew and a proud "anti-settlement Zionist", a label I made for myself, and after a lifetime of one-sided pro-Israel indoctrination it was difficult for me to face (about 5 years ago), acknowledge, and process the truth that the founding of my beloved homeland was not all rainbows and blue and white butterflies (Israeli flag reference). From this text spring countless issues, questions, gut reactions, feelings, memories both personal and cultural/shared....
What are peoples' experience with the narrative of the state of Israel/Palestine?
What are your reactions when confronted with the gruesome details of the decades of fighting?
What personal connections do you have to this conflict that influence your feelings and opinions?
Many of my close friends claim (to my dismay) that there is a fundamental flaw in the concept of Zionism. What do you think?
How was your weekend(trying to lighten up the mood a bit after our discussion tomorrow, which is sure to be rich and fascinating and exciting and sad and heavy)?

Hello!

Three things that, upon meeting me, can be immediately understood about me are that I love meeting new people, I appreciate having meaningful discussions with good friends or just people I meet at the library or on the bus, and that I'm passionate about almost everything (whether my feelings are positive or negative they are more than likely very strong and carefully thought out).

Things that may not be immediately apparent are that I have an intense desire to impact the world as positively as I can in every way that I can, that I love yoga, music, art, and nature, that I have an extremely introverted side, and that a current goal of mine is to write a series of zines about the Israeli-Palestinian relationship, narratives, & the peace process.

My biggest strength is appreciating the value of things around me and directing/using/sharing that appreciation in various ways.

My biggest weakness is insecurity--it keeps me from doing things from which I would benefit greatly (and that I wouldn't be as bad at as my insecurities lead me to believe).

I speak four languages and I'm working on a fifth.

I am a vegan-- I love vegetables and fruits almost as much as I love my family. Maybe more.

Something that excites me is the thought that one can expand one's frame of reference, perspective, and perception of the world through education and cultural immersion and therefore be able to better communicate and cooperate with new people, creating understanding, respect, and peace where it could not have otherwise existed.

My name is Sophie Shiloh and I can't wait to meet you and learn from you/with you in this course!