Seeds of Peace held its eleventh anniversary benefit on April 28, 2003, at Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center.
By popular demand, we have been asked to post the speeches made by our Seeds of Peace alumni from the Middle East, India and Pakistan.
Tulsi, Indian
Mahatma Gandhi once said, âAn eye for an eye only ends up making the whole world blind.â
Ladies and gentlemen, the world is imperfect and its people are blind to the basic principles of humanity and moral issues. Revenge, is the repercussion of power misused.
In the blink of an eye, I have seen the world fall through the abysmal pits of carnage, hatred, distrust and inequality. The world is a stage to unrest from WW1 and WW2 right through to the War against Terrorism and against Iraq, while peace, peace is just waiting in the wings.
Honestly, I had never actually met a Pakistani before, someone from the âother sideâ. All I saw of them were the 12 members of their cricket team who, God forbid, I wished India would beat every time they played!
I only had a stereotypical image of what they looked like. I imagined them either as soldiers at the border, armed, eagerly awaiting a war signal, or as strangers hidden behind veils (burkhas) – clad in black, conservative, extremist. But I was wrong and in ways I donât understand, I have grown. I have learnt more than what a lifetime of scientific knowledge could teach me. I have learnt to discover and reject my vulnerability. I have learnt to suppress raw instincts. I have learnt, I have learnt to think before I label and segment people into human categories.
Today, I watch most of the world go mad, but I remain calm and optimistic.
The truth is, you can never really tell with life. You cannot hope to predict tomorrow and I am aware of that. What you can do, however, is prepare for it today. That is why I am standing here in front of you, so far away from homeâŠto show you that we have already started preparing for the future.
During Camp, which was filled with a lot of introspection and self-reflection, I came to the conclusion that even though initially Camp seemed like the epitome of perfection, it wasnât just fun and games and fantastic people. Delving deeper into what camp was really all about, I unearthed the fact that sometimes it was a downright painful experience. There were stories and arguments and all sorts of emotions at stake.
A bit like when you go shopping; the dress looks gorgeous from the brightly lit window, but when you go inside, its not really so glamorous. That camp. That summer of 2001, gave the seeds of ambition and hope within me, the right to germinate. That summer of 2001 taught me that the enemy had a face.
In retrospect, for a fleeting moment I thought I was looking at the world through the compound eyes of a house-fly, suffering from myopia. I realized that the story which I had was different from what a Pakistani had to tell me. But when it comes down to the truth, it is only the perspectives in totality which paint a comprehensive picture.
It wasnât easy going home and spreading the Seeds of Peace message. But now I can assure you that there isnât a single school in Bombay which doesnât know about this organization.
I realized that we are merely puppets of the media. This has resulted in a gap. Larger than the physical gap that divides the two countries, it has led to a gap between understanding and empathy.
Today I stand before you as a proud Indian. Amal, a proud Pakistani. Yet, we have the same Seed of Peace sowed in our different soils. On March 13th, 1993, John Wallach had a dream to try to change this fragmented globe into a common brotherhood.
Today, on April 28th, 2003, over 2000 of us Seeds share that one manâs dream.
Amal, Pakistani
It is perhaps the greatest human desire to want to hold on to freedom and peace of mind and body. It is perhaps the highest degree of passion, which would prompt even a dying man to call out for peace. It is the most painful demand of the public and the utmost act of humanity to fulfill it.
The greatest realization I gained from Seeds of Peace was the fact that truth is solely a matter of perception played on by a theatre of evil we like to call history. My truth, my reality is not going to be an Indianâs truth … but I learnt to hear that truth, to take it in, to hold on to it and then defend it with my own. Seeds of Peace did not teach me to purge myself of negative emotion. It taught me the practical side to peace and I taught myself the art to perceive it that way.
The enemy had a face, a faith, a name and an identity.
Illusions built on the basis of bias came crumbling down and I came to see beyond what others had chosen to show to me and what others had thought I should be told. I matured, from a dreamer to a realist, from a child to a woman. I was allowed, for the first time, to embrace my own capability to think and question. It was as if I was allowed wings. Rusty wings of the mind given permission to freedom. I didnât know I was trapped till I was actually flying. Actually doubting and questioning. And that is exactly what I did do.
I got back home and I questioned Seeds of Peace. I wondered whether the environment was too artificially created, I wondered whether it wasnât just inevitable that kids staying by beautiful bunks by the lake would become friends. And I found my answer in the simplest analogies life has to offer. Like when youâre learning how to swim; you wear your floaters and these rubber tires around your waist and you hold on to the handles at the edges of that little synthetic pool to keep from slipping. But then, some time later youâre in the open see, with the wild, natural waves … but you know what it is you have to do and exactly how you have to do it.
That is what Seeds of Peace does to young people. Young people who go back home, have to deal with the ugliest faces of reality to survive as men and women of faith. leaders and teachers of substance. Camp is not a foolâs paradise; it is not the idealistâs greatest fantasy. I have sat and discussed wars and partition and history with Tulsi for hours, gone on and on arguing about details till I finally saw that I have to move beyond textbooks to search for solid solutions. Humanity can exist … humanity wants to exist if only I let it.
If tomorrow my child turns to me and tells me that war is a solution, it will be my fault. If tomorrow the world is still caught in this rat race of hate and injustice, it will be my fault. And if tomorrow another mother weeps on the unmarked grave of an innocent son, it will be my fault and I refuse to submit to that fate and that blame over and over and over again. I have been given a chance to change lives and there is no way I am throwing that away.
This journey has started, and now more than ever before it needs to continue. As long as I am alive, as long as there is passion and hope within me I will continue that journey. It is not a âfavorâ or an âact of morality.â It is simply demanded of me. Seeds of Peace is more than a summer camp in Maine. It enters your blood. It literally flows through your veins till all that remains is you and your obsession and everything else is forgotten.
I believe there is a reason in being born. There is a reason behind living, dying, breathing … and I am so happy I have found mine.
Maâayan, Israeli
I never thought terrible things can happen to me. I was the kind of person who thought that things like that can only happen to other people, to other families. Unfortunately, I was proved wrong.
I remember it was a few minutes after 6 oâclock at evening, I was watching TV, while my younger and only brother played with his friend in the other room. I remember thinking to myself how great it is I can finally sit down and do nothing, after studying so hard for the last couple of weeks, when suddenly, a tremendous explosion brutally cut my thoughts, and tore the silence apart. My building trembled so hard I thought itâll brake down, and all the windows shattered, leaving with no protection from the outside. There was no mistake, I knew exactly what had happened. A bombing had occurred, right outside my house. I stood up, and started crying. I ran over to my brother and his friend, and was relieved to see they were both alright, but my emotions were still rising up inside of me. Even now, at this very moment, I can still hear the people screaming outside my window, the sound of the sirens, the TV reporting what has happened, and the voices inside my head trying to calm me down. I still remember approaching the window and seeing the exact same horrifying sites the TV was showing, while praying and wishing no one I know was there.
I always knew that sooner or later, something like this is bound to happen, since my house is across the street from the mall, where many people spend their time. The thoughts about how easily I, my brother or someone I know could have been there, haunt me to this very day. It was the first time, in my whole life, I felt so close, so physically and emotionally close to death.
Unfortunately, this kind of scene, is not a unique one in my country. Over the last 54 years Israel has existed, and especially throughout these last three years of the Intifada, my country and my people have endured hundreds of bombing attacks, like the one outside my house, and have known a great deal of loss.
As tragic as it may sound, loosing people has became an everyday thing for us, and we have been forced to accustom ourselves to living with death. This situation, in which fear, insecurity and hate are an inseparable part of daily life, has cast shadows over many Israeliâs hope, optimism, and faith in peace.
It took me hours after the bombing to pull myself together. I was feeling scared, angry, and mostly shocked, and I think that for one second there, I felt the absolute hopelessness Israelis feel, after being through a frightening experience like the one Iâve been through. But my experience was somewhat different, because of all the love and support I received from my Palestinian friends who called to check I was OK. It was those phone calls, those sweet words of caring, that gave me the strength not to surrender to feelings of revenge and despair, and convinced me even more than before I do not want that kind of a future for my children, or anybodyâs children.
To be honest with you, I do not want peace on the paper. I want peace between people. I want trust, understanding, compassion and a feeling of security. I want little babies to be born to a world where they are taught to love, and not to hate. I donât mislead myself by thinking non-seeds donât want the same. But I do know that in the current situation, in which people donât have many choices but the obvious choice of despair and hate, Seeds of Peace allows me, allows us to be true to ourselves, to what we believe in, and work for it.
That is why Tarek and I have been leading co-existence sessions between Palestinians and Israelis.
That is why I brought my best friend to a Seeds of Peace meeting, so sheâll see in her own eyes that Arabs are not as bad, as she thought the were.
That is why I spoke to students, to tell them about our organization, and to let them see there is another side to the reality they grew up with.
And that is why, ladies and gentleman, I stand here in front of you tonight, three years after my first summer in Seeds of Peace, to tell you my story, and to tell the world there is another way. Seeds of Peace has opened the door for me to a better future, and I just hope I will be able to do the same, for others.
Mohamad, Palestinian
Let me tell you a story. It was the middle of August of 2002. No Palestinians were allowed in Israel, when I lost any hope of being given a student visa to come to the United States and get advantage of the scholarship that I was awarded. After about a month of trying to get a permission to go from the Gaza Strip, where I lived, to Tel-Aviv where I had to be interviewed for my visa in the American Embassy there. I got a phone call from my American Seeds of Peace counselor from Jerusalem. âMohammedâ she said with a tone of excitement âWe got you a VIP permission to enter Israel to the American Embassy for your interviewâ.
Well, two days later, I was in the heart of Tel-Aviv. I was probably the only Palestinian in Israel that day. When we got to the American Embassy there, we found out that we had to stay in a long line of Israelis waiting to be interviewed. We had to line up for about two hours. I was standing there, talking to my Seeds of Peace counselor who came with me, in English, when a young Israeli man stepped back on my foot. âTslechaâ he said. I knew very well that that word means âExcuse meâ in Hebrew, but never I knew how to respond. I asked my American friend, but she didnât know either. So, he thought that I was American. He was a nice guy, almost in my age. We kept chatting and joking for about half an hour in English. I didnât mention that I was Palestinian and he didnât ask. âOh, Mohammed, when do you have to be back to Gaza?â my American counselor asked.
At that moment, I can tell that that guy was extremely shocked. It was like a giant iron door that was âboomâ suddenly separating us. The guy started to avoid talking with us. he moved his spot in the line further away. A minute later, my friend decided to go to the ladies room leaving me with her back bag. That guy was staring at me, a Palestinian young man from the Gaza Strip, in the American Embassy, in Tel-Aviv, with a huge back bag. I could tell you how scared that guy was. He left the whole Embassy right away. I have never ever seen that guy after that moment.
I was asking myself âwhy, why was that guy so terrified that he even missed his interview? Did he think that all the Palestinians were suicide bombers? That I was going to blow myself up there and kill him?â Unfortunately, that what happens when we let the media control our minds and thoughts.
I had two advantages that that young man didnât have. Firstly, I knew very well that he was Israeli but he never knew that I was Palestinian during our conversation. Look how different his reactions were before and after discovering my identity. His human nature attracted him to enjoy a conversation with me, and I didnât really care who he was. All I knew about him was that he was a young man from Israel with whom I can enjoy a conversation.
The other advantage was that I am a seed of peace, and he was just a random young man living in the region. I wonder how different that guyâs attitude would have been if he was a seed of peace, just like me. He would have realized that it is possible to have a Palestinian friend. He would have hoped that the line was much longer so that he can enjoy a longer conversation with me. He would have realized that most of the Palestinians are as affable as he was. Donât blame him, I donât blame him for what he did, I just feel sad for him. He just wasnât given the opportunity, the atmosphere where he can develop independent thoughts and understanding of the logical reality and get rid of his close-mindedness and stereotypes that he has grown up with.
He didnât have the ability to question those stereotypes even after an enjoyable half-hour conversation between us. He wasnât taught how to understand peopleâs gestures and feelings, he couldnât read their thoughts, couldnât make a wise judgment and without saying it, he categorized me as â a terroristâ. Simply, that was the big difference between us, a seeds of peace versus a typical teenager living in the region.
When we are thoughtless in our acts and our silences to different people, we stifle the ability to grow and connect with them … like that young man did that August day. More than anything else, Seeds of Peace enhances our pride in being who we are: thinking adults and compassionate human beings.
Tarek, Arab-Israeli
âDo you really have Jewish friendsâ? That was the reaction of my classmate to the stories I brought home from Seeds of Peace camp three years ago. Although we are citizens of Israel, and the closest neighbor to my Arab village âJattâ is a Jewish kibbutz, no one in my school had ever made close connections with any Israeli Jews. In fact they didnât even imagine it was possible, until they met my friends from seeds of peace.
My classmates and I are Palestinian citizens of Israel. We are loyal to our country, Israel, and at the same time to our Palestinian tradition and identity. Due to this, we are a double minority, often viewed with suspicion by both sides of the conflict, and faced with a crisis of determining who we really are. But at Seeds of Peace, I spoke with both Palestinians and Israeli Jews as an equal human being. That gave me the chance to build my own identity and to make friendships with people on both sides who understood and respected me for who I am.
Equality, understanding and friendship between Jews and Arabs are things my classmates, and unfortunately most of the more than 1 million Palestinian citizens of Israel, have never experienced. Showing my community this vision of a better reality was my mission. But my stories from seeds of peace werenât enough â or maybe they were too much â for my classmates to believe. They needed to see what I had to tell with their own eyes in order to believe my Jewish friends are real, and our honest friendship is true.
The easy part was proving my friends are real, I organized a meeting between my skeptical classmates and Jewish friends â like Maâayan â from Seeds of Peace. We had long conversations about all of the buried topics my classmates have always wanted to discuss with the other side. The cult was that both sides were surprised, on the one hand, the Jewish Seeds were confused when they found out that the four male representatives of my classmates were all called with the so well known name âMohammedâ. On the other hand, my classmates left that meeting telling me, âSome of those Jewish friends of those Jewish friends of yours understood us better than Arabs do.â This sentence made me realize Seeds of peace and I made the change years of government negotiations never could.
More than a year afterwards, it became clear not only that my Jewish friends are real, but that they are real friends.
On January 30th, 2002, my beloved father, Dr. Dawood Arow, was killed by a hit-and-run driver. He was crossing the street to buy flowers for our family. I was so shocked, I didnât call anyone, I didnât talk to anyone. My father was one of the first doctors in my village, and he was the kind of doctor who cared deeply for his patients, and knew them all as individuals. It did not surprise me to see thousands of them gathered in my village for his funeral. What did shock me, the only good shock in this time of tragedy for my family, was seeing my friends from seeds of peace, Jewish and Arabs, standing there among the mourning crowd. They didnât just come that day either â my friends from seeds of peace came to visit my family and console us throughout the whole period of mourning we had. Them being there showed everyone and especially me, they are the kind of people, the kind of friends, who cared for me and didnât stand a side watching when I faced my hardest times.
Since then, Seeds of Peace means being there for friends at the hardest times. A few months ago, a Jewish friend of mine from Haifa named Liav, lost her father suddenly and unexpectedly. You can be sure that I was there at the funeral, and at her home during the days of the shivâah mourning ritual. I believe that Liav, her family and friends will always remember that, and know that this Arab friend is for real, and will be by her side when it matters most, just as my friends were there for me.
Bios of the Seeds of Peace alumni
Tulsi is a 16-year-old Indian from Bombay who was part of the first delegation to Seeds of Peace from Southeast Asia in the summer of 2001. She is currently in her first year of secondary school in the scientific stream. Tulsi has continued to be active in Seeds of Peace upon returning home. She recently wrote an article about her experience at camp published on a news website, and took part in the first Seeds of Peace Press Conference in India. She has also kept in touch with both her Indian and Pakistani friends via video projects and email communication.
Amal is a 17-year old high school student from Lahore, Pakistan. Amal attended Seeds Of Peace in 2001 as part of the first Pakistani Delegation. Since returning home, she has been in constant touch with her fellow Seeds through the internet and home visits. Amal attended the Seeds of Peace Conference on Uprooting Hatred and Terror in November 2001, and was involved in the India-Pakistan video exchange project. Apart from attending local conferences and peace gatherings, she has spoken actively about Seeds Of Peace at a number of large meetings, including a very well attended inter-faith church gathering in Lahore. She directed an award-winning documentary on violence against women, and has published her own anthology of poetry.
Maâayan is a 17-year old Israeli high school senior from the city of Kfar Saba in Israel. She first attended Seeds of Peace in the summer of 2000 and returned in the summers of 2001 and 2002. She is involved in the Advanced Coexistence program at the Seeds of Peace Center in Jerusalem, which has led to numerous presentations promoting coexistence at Jewish and Arab schools around Israel. Currently, she is working with as a “Coexistence Intern” helping design programs and learning the skills of facilitating Arab-Jewish dialogue.
Mohamad is a 17-year old Palestinian from Gaza City. He attended elementary and middle school while living in Gaza but through the Seeds of Peace Education Program, received a scholarship to finish his high school education at Deerfield Academy in Massachusetts. Currently, Mohamad is a senior at Deerfield Academy and will be graduating this spring and next year plans to attend college in the US. Mohamad first attended the Seeds of Peace Camp during session one of 2000. Since then, he has been an active participant in many Seeds of Peace activities, presentations and follow-up programs.
Tarek is a 17-year old high school senior from the Arab village of Jatt, in Israel. He first attended Seeds of Peace in the summer of 2000 and was selected to return as a Peer Support camper in the summers of 2001 and 2002. Tarek participated in the November 2001 Seeds of Peace Conference on Uprooting Hatred and Terror in New York City and has been featured in the media including an appearance on MSNBC last summer. He completed the Advanced Coexistence program of biweekly Arab-Jewish dialogue meetings at the Seeds of Peace Center in Jerusalem, and is now working as a “Coexistence Intern” in this year’s program.
