John Kerry or the Arab League may prod a peace deal into place, but nothing can last unless ordinary people living under the policy see that every Israeli is not a settler and every Palestinian does not begrudge Israel a right to exist. I've seen the groundwork of that dialogue at work.
EnlargeThe Israeli-Palestinian conflict is a perennial feature of the Middle Eastern political scene. Students of international relations like me find it intriguing, but also tiring?? and static. Issues that can change, developments that are fluid, trends that are dynamic ? that?s where I see students? interests pulled instead. I myself almost began to forget how much this conflict mattered until a very personal association forced me to confront its intractable reality. I began to date a student at Yale from the Palestinian territories. Even to me, that sounds like a really silly way to find your political conscience.
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This summer I came to Israel to work at the Parent?s Circle Families Forum, a grassroots organization of bereaved Palestinians and Israelis seeking to cultivate peace through reconciliation. I came here confused. Dating a Palestinian for more than a year, his stories reluctantly, unassumingly unfolded to me. He talked of curfews, exclusion from Jerusalem and the airport, thrown rocks returned with fired bullets.
During the school year, as I would fly back to school from some break or another, I would think of him ? leaving campus two days early to get to Amman, Jordan, so he could pass the checkpoints before they closed, locking him into Palestine for the night. I had never before heard what it was like to live as a Palestinian. It shocked me. How could these people live like caged animals? As I got to know him bit by bit, I came to gradually understand the importance of the human story behind the conflict. The way it affects the everyday lives of ordinary people. And once I knew, I couldn?t stop caring.
And so I came here, to Israel and to this organization, skeptical and acutely aware of my own bias. But the one belief I was sure of was that human stories needed to be shared. Politics make issues impersonal. To create or loosen personal convictions, to create openness, people have to share their real-life narratives.
I?ve been watching that process at work through Israeli-Palestinian dialogue groups. In my first week, I watched a women?s group cooking together. The scenario is easy to romanticize ? bonds of trust built between two former enemies as they spend time sharing experiences. But I can attest to what I?ve seen: The process of coming together on a personal level is hard and it?s messy, but the effort is worthwhile.
It?s not just a political conflict that divides these women ? it is language, culture, dress, and so much more. Communication is about nuance ? widening eyes,?raised eyebrows, curving lips. Muted and dulled through a translator, they lose a lot of the power to connect.
Yet in this kind of setting, one is acutely reminded of the small things that are immutable, that don?t need to be translated, and the common unbreakable bonds of humanity they signify. There?s the pleasure of seeing yourself in a photograph, the interest in a celebrity chef?s guest visit, the satisfaction in a dish that came out well. Seeing those connections is what initially gave me hope. It?s profound to witness how the small commonalities that connect people can overcome the many differences?that keep them apart. These women couldn?t talk together, but they could laugh together. They couldn?t share words, but they could share experiences. And it seemed like enough.
Tim Hardaway Jr Kelly Olynyk Bill Simmons Doink the Clown alec baldwin alec baldwin Victor Oladipo
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