Search Results for “Free PDF Quiz 2024 Huawei Fantastic H20-661_V3.0: HCSA-Field-UPS V3.0 Test Sample Online ➡ Search for ➽ H20-661_V3.0 🢪 on 《 www.pdfvce.com 》 immediately to obtain a free download 🚺Dump H20-661_V3.0 Check”

Meet Saumya: Doing the most good with 3,900 weekends

Oct 31, 2021 / No Comments

How much good can one person do, how much love can one person spread, in the course of a lifetime? Saumya, a 2018 Indian Seed, is well on her way to finding out.

The 17-year-old said she calculated some time ago that she probably has around 3,900 weekends left on earth. The realization was a motivator, but also put much into perspective: What did she want to do with this precious time?

In many ways, she’s already done more than most. In the eighth grade she attended the Seeds of Peace Interfaith Camp in India, a choice that set her on a path to attending Camp in Maine in 2018, becoming a dialogue facilitator, and using a few of her favorite tools—particularly dialogue, art, dancing, and a lot of love—to becoming a champion of female empowerment and youth education.

“Through dialogue with Seeds of Peace, I began to see small things in the ways that women were treated, whether they had professional lives or worked from home. Seeing the hypocrisy inspired me to do something, and I started by going back to my roots.”

Thus was born Project Sachetna (birth or renewal in Hindi), a weeklong, in-person program that Saumya and her sister Sanmyukta (2019 Indian Seed) founded in 2018 for girls in the rural community where her father grew up. Using primarily dialogue and arts and crafts, they sought to bring a message of empowerment to girls who were only a few years younger than them.

“Most of the kids go to school for the free lunch, and most of the girls get married after 10th grade,” Saumya said. “There’s not much a future for them if they want something else, but we wanted to show them they did have a choice, and that their voices mattered.”

The program was scheduled for a week during the students’ vacation, and Saumya was told not to expect much in terms of attendance.

“The first few days started with around 20 girls, but the numbers kept increasing. They were showing up an hour early, and before long, boys began coming as well, intrigued by what the girls were learning. By the end of the week, the number had more than doubled,” Saumya said.

She has since been selected for a number of prestigious fellowships that allow youth to explore and express ideas around intersections of topics like feminism, equality, and leadership. Most recently, she was invited by Teach for India to participate in a project examining the repercussions of the pandemic on education in India. Organizing community dialogues, creating toolkits that countered misinformation, and even speaking on national television, she advocated for the millions of students—some 60 percent of children—without internet access who were suffering from a lack of education during the pandemic.

“These are not just statistics, there are actually humans behind them,” she told a newscaster. “If we can put resources into reopening restaurants and reopening bars, why are we not putting the same resources into re-opening our schools?”

While Saumya is motivated to make the most of her time on earth, she said her focus is on empowering others to make changes in their own lives and communities.

“I want to do remarkable work that sustains my soul, but it’s not about fame or money,” she said, “If I’m able to help out even one person, I’ll feel like this is a life well lived.”

On a Day for Making Peace, Politicians Regained Luster
The Boston Globe

Sep 14, 1993 / No Comments

BY MICHAEL KRANISH | WASHINGTON A Secret Service agent raced into the White House’s Palm Room just before yesterday’s signing of the Israeli-Palestinian peace agreement. “Make a little hole!” the agent shouted as he parted the crowd in the room. “It’s the president!”

Suddenly, a tanned, smiling George Bush raced by on his way to meet with President Clinton. “Ex!” Bush corrected the agent. “Ex! Ex!”

Nearby, on the North Portico of the White House, Yasser Arafat was arriving. Until four days ago, US officials weren’t allowed to talk to the chairman of the Palestine Liberation Organization, much less receive him as an honored guest.

Now, they merely noted that he wasn’t wearing his trademark pistol and welcomed him to the White House, where the former guerrilla leader signed the guest book.

It was that kind of extraordinary day in Washington yesterday, a day when former campaign foes could meet and praise each other, when ancient enemies could shake hands and make peace with each other. It was a day when it really seemed, in this era of antipolitics, that politicians could make a difference after all.

When Clinton walked onto the South Lawn side-by-side with Arafat and Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin of Israel, many in the crowd of 3,000 politicians, diplomats, and Middle East activists gasped. For many minutes, the crowd noticed that Arafat and Rabin were not looking at each other and had not shaken hands. The tension mounted: Would they shake hands?

When Clinton finally appeared to nudge Rabin to shake Arafat’s outstretched hand, the crowd spontaneously said, “Ooohh!” when Arafat and Rabin clasped hands, many in the crowd stood and applauded. Some appeared to be crying.

Leonard Zakim, the Boston director of the New England Anti-Defamation League, watched trancelike as the scene unfolded, not quite believing it was happening after all these years. It was, Zakim said, a day of “somber exuberance,” a celebration of the moment and a cause for concern about what lay ahead.

“This is really an earthquake in the region,” he said. “The aftershocks, like the murder of Israelis in Gaza yesterday, are going to be serious.”

The ceremony was also one hot ticket.

“It was like getting a ticket to Bruce Springsteen,” Zakim said, clearly thrilled to be there.

The politicians who signed the peace accord on this sun-scorched day were the stars of the show. They stood behind an ornate desk that had been used in the signing of the 1978 Camp David accord, the old enemies Arafat and Rabin promising peace even as extremists on both sides vowed to undo the agreement. Arafat, wearing thick glasses, a traditional keffiyeh headdress and olive military suit, waved and smiled exuberantly wherever he went. On Sunday night, Bush—who in 1990 broke off a dialogue with the PLO over a terrorist attack—flew in from his summer home in Kennebunkport and met privately with the PLO chairman for an hour.

Yesterday morning, Arafat met with Bush’s secretary of state, James A. Baker 3d. Arafat also met privately with former President Jimmy Carter, who also attended yesterday’s ceremony.

Bush and Carter planned to attend a dinner with Clinton last night and then stay overnight in their old home, the White House, so that they could be present today at a ceremony kicking off a campaign to sell the North American Free Trade Agreement to Congress.

At the end of a day of ceremonies that were witnessed by millions on television around the world, Arafat planned to appear on the Larry King show, eating into the long-scheduled air time of the US Gulf War commander, Gen. Norman Schwarzkopf.

It was Arafat’s decision to side with Iraq that led the Persian Gulf states to cut off financial aid to the PLO, and that helped spur Arafat’s decision to sign the agreement with Israel yesterday.

While the Clinton administration had little to do with the secret Norway negotiations that led to the accord, the president was eager to make the most of the movement. Clinton gave what many believed was his best speech since he took office, tapping his campaign theme of hop without sounding corny and trumpeting what he called “one of history’s defining dramas.”

Overseeing it all was a man known in the White House as the Rabbi.

Steve Rabinowitz, who got the nickname during the campaign, remembers hearing about the 1967 Arab-Israeli war and Camp David peace agreement when he was going to Hebrew school and attending his bar mitzvah. Now, as the White House director of production, Rabinowitz had set up everything from the placement of Arafat and Rabin on stage to the numbers of seats on the lawn. He gave instructions in Hebrew and English, attending to every detail like a doting parent.

“I have always looked forward to the time when something like this could happen,” Rabinowitz said. “It is an extraordinary thing, and to be a part of it is pretty unbelievable.”

Perhaps the most eloquent statement came from a group of Israeli and Palestinian children that Clinton had invited. The children had just finished attending a “Seeds of Peace” camp in Otisfield, Maine.

“Before I came to camp, I thought they were very bad,” a 15-year-old Palestinian named Fadi said of the Israelis. “Now I feel happy that I have friendships with them. And today I shook hands with Clinton, Arafat, Bush. It is good.”

But things are not yet good enough. Even after the signing of yesterday’s agreement, for which he had a choice seat, Fadi did not want his last name used. He was still unsure whether the killing would really stop now in the Holy Land, and he feared retaliation back home for having spent a peaceful summer in Maine with Jewish children.

Seeds visit President Clinton in the Oval Office

May 23, 2000 / No Comments
President Clinton receives the Seeds of Peace Award, Oval Office. Pictured with the President are Manal Abbas, Dalia Ali, Jamil Zraiqat, Avagail Shaham, and Jawad Issa.

President Clinton receives the Seeds of Peace Award, Oval Office. Pictured with the President are Manal Abbas, Dalia Ali, Jamil Zraiqat, Avagail Shaham, and Jawad Issa.

WASHINGTON, DC | Visiting President Clinton in the Oval Office of the White House, May 23, 2000, was a thrill for all of the Seeds who were there—Jawad, Dalia, Jamil, Avigail and Manal. Each of them had a chance to tell the President personal stories about their lives, especially about how Seeds of Peace has affected their lives. Jawad and Manal are Palestinians from Gaza and Nablus. Avigail is from Israel. And Jamil is from Jordan.

Afterward, the President responded by talking about the relationship between national identity and maintaining traditional enemies. He said that it was no accident that both President Sadat and Prime Minister Rabin were killed by their fellow countrymen. Sometimes giving up an enemy for peace feels like a threat to identity and it becomes intolerable for some members of society. He also talked about Nelson Mandela, who said that if he continued to hate his jailers even after he had been released from his lengthy stay in prison, it would be as if he was still not free.

President Clinton said that the freedom gained from a successful peace agreement must be utilized for constructive rebuilding and not spent on continued hatred between former parties in conflict.

Mrs. Jihan Sadat, wife of Egyptian President Anwar Sadat; Bebe Neuwirth, representing Broadway stars who support Seeds of Peace; Sandy Berger, US National Security Advisor; John and Janet Wallach, Lindsay Miller, Bobbie Gottschalk, Meredith Katz and Michael Wallach were also in attendance.

Advice to future Seeds of Peace campers

Jun 17, 2019 / 1 Comment

Going to any new place, especially one where you may not know anybody beforehand, is a nerve-wracking thought for many people.

As Seeds, we can try with all our might to assure you that you shouldn’t be nervous about going to Seeds of Peace Camp, but we understand that until you experience it for yourself, that’s hard advice to follow.

We reached out to fellow Seeds from our years and delegations to offer some tips and tricks that will help you acclimatize to Camp life as quickly as possible so that you can get the most out of your time in Maine.

  • Make friends on the bus; it’s always nice to know people when you get there
  • Don’t be afraid to try something new in your spare time; your Camp days will be very busy, but there’s always free time built in to to explore something new
  • Express your opinions the way you want them to be heard—don’t ever feel you should be quiet because you feel that others wouldn’t agree with what you’re saying
  • The beds are comfortable, but the bunks are old; do your best to keep them clean, as the cleanest bunks win prizes
  • Bring crocs
  • Live in the present, enjoy the company you are with
  • Make friends with counselors—they’re really easy to talk to and want to get to know you
  • Make friends with Leslie—she oversees the whole Seeds of Peace organization, and she loves getting to know Seeds
  • Get to know Bobbie; she’s got a lot of great stories
  • Take a nap during rest hour
  • Bring long-sleeved clothes and bug spray—mosquitos are vicious
  • Bring a camera—you can record your memories
  • Showering isn’t as important as you think
  • Wear bug spray at night
  • Keep a journal—it’s great to be able to look back after, and even during, Camp to see how far you’ve come
  • Be raw and forthright—the more willing you are to open up about yourself and put yourself out there, the more powerful your experience will be
  • Wear flip-flops in the shower house
  • Invest yourself in dialogue 110 percent and have conversations outside of dialogue
  • Come ready to hear harsh, contrasting stories
  • Don’t hide your emotions; explain and express them

What We’re Reading: Traveling the world, no passport necessary

Aug 19, 2019 / No Comments

We often associate summer with adventurous books, maybe because, for many, it’s ingrained since youth as a season of freedom and possibilities.

This edition of What We’re Reading is inspired by the desire so many of us have to seek out new horizons in the summer. And though travel is a privilege that’s not always attainable, the beauty of books is that they allow us to explore all kinds of new terrains, no matter the status of our passports or bank accounts.

From the Amazon to Turkey; the Caribbean to Iraq to the Arctic Circle, these books open up new worlds for both the characters and the readers. Regardless of what the rest of the season holds for you, we hope one of these works will be a suitable sidekick—or navigator—for your next adventure.

Exit West, by Mohsin Hamid
A young couple, Saeed and Nadia, live in an unnamed city undergoing civil war, from which they are finally forced to flee. Using a system of magical doors, they find themselves searching for sanctuary in Greece, England, and eventually, the United States. This book is as timely as it is eye opening into the experiences of those seeking asylum around the world today. As described in The New York Times, “Hamid does a harrowing job of conveying what it is like to leave behind family members, and what it means to leave home, which, however dangerous or oppressive it’s become, still represents everything that is familiar and known.” — Dindy Weinstein, Director of Individual Philanthropy

Notes on a Foreign Country, by Suzy Hansen
In this insightful and provocative book, Suzy Hansen interrogates her own narrative and the narratives of America and Americans. Recounting her own experience as a journalist living in Turkey, she uses this book as an opportunity to look inward at her own experience and the myths that make up the American experience. Hansen unpacks the shortsighted and ill-informed conceptions she once held of the Middle East and Central Asia as well as her own misguided conceptions of self, people, and country. Hansen brings to light the overt and subtle ways in which American culture, governance, and military forces have shaped regions and places that she once knew nothing of, but that, for decades, have known a great deal about her, her country, and her people. Her book pushes us to question ourselves and our narratives as a result of being confronted with the often uncomfortable realities of the world we live in and our roles in that world as citizens of the United States of America. — Kyle Gibson, Deputy Director, Global Strategy and Programs

Washington Black, by Esi Edugyan
This book takes the reader on a journey across the world, and to a bleak past, with a slave boy named Wash and his master’s brother, a naturalist and explorer. By boat, by horse, and by hot air balloon, they voyage throughout the Caribbean, then to the Arctic Circle, London, and Morocco. The story explores the fraught relationship between those who are free, and those for whom the color of their skin prevents them from truly experiencing freedom—despite what local law may or may not proscribe. — Deb Levy, Director of Communications

State of Wonder, by Ann Patchett
Here is a beautifully told story of a scientist who travels to the Amazonian jungle, in part to research a new fertility drug that allows women to bear children until old age, and in part to figure out the truth of the assumed death of a fellow scientist whose visit preceded hers. Of course, the larger mission becomes peppered with vivid stories of life deep in the jungle and unforeseen discoveries along the way. A joy to read.
— Eliza O’Neil, US/UK Programs Manager

The Flying Camel, Edited by Loolwa Khazzoom
In this anthology of essays and stories by Jewish women of North African and Middle Eastern heritage, each chapter opens a window into the Mizrachi and Sephardi communities, which are often overlooked/erased/discriminated against in the Ashkenazi world. These women challenge the dichotomy of “Jewish” vs “Arab,” bring to light experiences—both positive and negative—that are not associated with the mainstream Jewish narrative in Israel, America, and around the world, and explore their struggle to define themselves in terms of gender, religion, race, culture, and the intersection between them all. In the work that we do, it is critical to constantly reexamine the lines society has drawn between people, and to continuously open our minds to the nuance and complexity of human experience.
— Emily Umansky, Development Associate

The Book of Collateral Damage, by Sinan Antoon; translated from the Arabic by Jonathan Wright
We begin with an Iraqi scholar, who finds his American life interconnected with his homeland’s past and present after he encounters an eccentric bookseller in Baghdad. A work of fiction loosely based on Antoon’s return to his homeland (Antoon is a professor at New York University) after the devastation of the 2003 Iraqi invasion, it is ultimately a story of all that is lost in war, and I’ve never read anything quite like it: The chapters alternate between the professor’s life and the bookseller’s writings, each of the latter telling the first minute of war from the viewpoint of a completely different being or object, such as a boy who spends his days scavenging among trash; an overworked, aging horse that is nostalgic for the loving care it received as a young racing champion; a living-room wall that witnesses a family grow up and move on. At first the bookseller’s excerpts felt distracting from the scholar’s life, almost like commercial interruptions during a television show—until you suddenly find yourself fast-forwarding to get to the commercials. These chapters made me slow down, look up from the book and take stock of what was around me, and I think that’s the point. Coverage of a war and the concept of collateral damage, as Sintoon told NPR, “makes the massive destruction of lives just an abstract concept. And it becomes like a black hole into which humans, lives, houses, objects—entire lives and potential lives—disappear.” This book does not let them disappear.
— Lori Holcomb-Holland, Communications/Development Manager

What would you add to this list? Any recommendations for future editions of What We’re Reading? Let us know in the comments below, or send your picks to lori@seedsofpeace.org.

Peace on Cyprus could start in Maine
The Greek American Magazine

Apr 25, 1998 / No Comments

BY GEORGE SARRINIKOLAOU | NEW YORK Having taken on the task of “Preparing Tomorrow’s Leaders,” a private, not-for-profit organization in the United States is preparing to offer its services for the first time to 40 Greek Cypriot and Turkish Cypriot teenagers later this summer.

Founded in 1993, the organization, Seeds of Peace, brings together teenagers from conflict-ridden areas, such as the Middle East and the former Yugoslavia, at a summer camp in Otisfield, Maine. The camp, described in the organization’s literature as a total coexistence experience, tries to get kids to “develop listening/negotiation skills, empathy, respect, confidence and hope.” Representatives from the organization said their goal is to dispel hatred and stereotypes among kids and develop a sense of trust from which peace can emerge. The teenagers from Cyprus, ages 13-16, are scheduled to spend two weeks at the camp beginning July 2, 1998.

Although Seeds of Peace has depended on private support for its programs, the camp for Cypriot teenagers has drawn strong US government backing. Vice President Al Gore first suggested the idea for such a camp at a meeting with the then Greek Minister of Education George Papandreou, at a meeting in the White House three years ago. Mr. Papandreou, who ended up sending his son to the summer camp in 1995, began promoting the program among Greeks. But Seeds of Peace did not become widely known in Cyprus until the spring of 1997, when John Wallach, the founder of Seeds of Peace, spoke about the organization during a television interview that aired throughout the Middle East. The broadcast aired on WorldNet, a network funded by the US Information Agency, an arm of the State Department.

Mr. Wallach said that, after his interview, it was the American ambassador to Cyprus, Kenneth C. Brill, who proposed to the Cyprus Fulbright Commission that it fund a Seeds of Peace camp for Cypriot teenagers. Despite the role that various US officials played in making camp for Cypriot teenagers a reality, there is only a “marginal amount of involvement” by the US government in the actual running of the camp, said Christine Covey, vice president of Seeds of Peace. When her organization submitted the proposal for this camp, said Ms. Covey, the program was described as it would be, free of official interference. “We wouldn’t run it any other way,” Ms. Covey said.

But in the highly polarized conflict on Cyprus, the United States is not a disinterested player. The United States has been actively involved in mediating between the Greek and Turkish communities and has proposed ways to resolve the Cyprus problem. Seeds of Peace is honoring the US official currently heading those efforts, Secretary of State Madeleine K. Albright, at a fundraising event on April 26. Not unlike the Seeds of Peace approach, the United States has been trying to get both sides in Cyprus to get over past differences and focus on a peaceful future.

“We don’t tell children what the history is or what they should believe,” said Ms. Covey. Children come to the program, she explained, with different perceptions of reality. The camp tires to find the small space where those two perceptions overlap and tries to build on that common ground.

“We don’t get into the politics,” said Mr. Wallach. “We try to give them some tools, so that when they get older they can resolve conflict without resorting to violence.”

Those tools emerge, said Seeds of Peace representatives, during shared living and eating, sports and performance activities at the camp. For the kids, those activities, Ms. Covey explained, “humanize” their perceived adversaries. Each day ends with a so called “coexistence meeting,” run by professional facilitators, during which participants discuss the issues that separate them back home. The camp culminates with the “Color Games,” a kind of mini-Olympics made up of two mixed teams. By the end of the competition, explained Ms. Covey, kids come to identify not with their ethnic group but with their team’s color.

Seeds of Peace tries to sustain the progress made at camp by establishing programs in the areas where the teenagers live. The organization has not yet determined how it will follow up on this summer’s camp. But in the case of Arab and Israeli teenagers, Seeds of Peace has helped establish an email network among camp participants and has helped organize a high school newspaper that is jointly published by Israeli and Palestinian students. We are “not turning them into peaceniks, but developing a culture of peace,” said Ms. Covey.

Seed Stories: ‘Four Ways of Looking at a Black Girl’

May 3, 2019 / No Comments

Seeds of Peace was the first place I ever performed something that I wrote. I never expected where the passion and courage I discovered in that moment would lead me.

Going from telling my story to Seeds at Camp, to sharing my experiences of growing up in Maine to an audience of over a thousand people two years later—alongside professors, poets, writers, artists, and musicians from Columbia University to the state of Indiana—is still crazy for me to think about.

I performed these pieces—part of my series, ‘Four Ways of Looking at Black Girl’—on April 2 at Show & Tell, a 90-minute literary cabaret at the State Theater in Portland, Maine. Show & Tell helps support The Telling Room, a nonprofit that empowers youth to share their voices and express themselves through free programs. I hope hearing my experiences helps inspire you as much as sharing them did for me.

Camp focused on Middle East peace shifts aim to divided US
Associated Press

Aug 8, 2016 / No Comments

OTISFIELD, Maine | The nation’s divide has become bad enough that a camp created to help Arab and Israeli teens find common ground is putting an emphasis on hatred and violence in the U.S.

Officials at Seeds of Peace, a lakeside camp in the woods of Maine, thought things were bad when they made their decision to hold the special pilot program. Then came racial discord over police shootings and divisive political rhetoric.

“People are coming to the realization that this stuff doesn’t just happen all over the other side of the world. It’s happening here,” said 17-year-old camper Matt Suslovic of Portland.

Executive Director Leslie Lewin said the goal is to tackle deep-seated racism, anti-refugee and anti-Muslim sentiment, socio-economic issues, gender discrimination and LGBT issues through the sharing of personal stories and discussion.

That sounds like a tall order.

But camp officials say their formula of dialogue has worked since 1993, when Seeds of Peace first brought together Israeli and Palestinian teens.

The 67-acre camp has expanded its reach over the years, bringing in teenagers from other trouble spots such as Afghanistan, India, Bosnia and Pakistan.

The special session that began last week features teens from all religious, racial and ethnic backgrounds from Los Angeles, New York and Chicago. Also participating are teens from Maine and Syracuse, New York, who’ve been coming to the camp for years.

The formula is the same: Each day, campers spend 110 minutes in dialogue sessions, where they share their stories, listen to fellow campers and try to understand each other. In their free time, they share in traditional summer camp activities like boating, swimming, games, drama, art and music.

Tim Wilson, who’s been with Seeds of Peace since the beginning, encourages campers to bite their tongues and listen to what others have to say.

“My father told me, ‘God gave you two ears and one mouth for a reason,’” he said in an oft-repeated phrase at camp.

It can be a bit disorienting at first.

The lush greenery and cool lake is just as foreign to big-city teenagers as it is for teenagers coming from the 120-degree heat of a Middle Eastern summer.

Kejuan Smith, 15, of Chicago, found himself plucked from his dangerous neighborhood and plopped in the woods where he was serenaded by coyotes on his first night.

Most teens leave feeling empowered—and wanting to return.

Salat Ali, whose parents are Somalian, said he quickly learned upon his arrival in Syracuse from a refugee camp at age 11 that things weren’t going to be perfect. He lived in a poor neighborhood, and others constantly picked fights with him.

But he found his voice at Seeds of Peace, and he’s returned as a counselor.

“I used to feel like I was by myself. Now people have my back. This is my renaissance,” said Ali, now 22 and attending college. “This is exactly the feeling I was looking for. These are the friends I wanted. These people make me feel like my family.”

Trang Nguyen, 15, also of Syracuse, said she remains optimistic despite episodes of hatred and the divisive rhetoric of the presidential campaign.

“If it can happen here on a small scale, then it’s possible on a larger scale,” she said. “There are a lot of messed up things, but it can change. This is living proof.”

Read David Sharp’s story and view Elise Amendola’s photos at the Associated Press »

Our voices: Members of the Seeds of Peace family speak out about New Zealand shootings

Mar 18, 2019 / No Comments

We provide our alumni with a platform to share their voices on critical issues that impact them. We stand by and support them as they engage each other across lines of conflict and tell their truths to the wider world.

In response to the March 2019 mosque shootings in Christchurch, New Zealand, here are some of these voices, with more being added daily:

 

Pious (2008 Maine Educator)

The New Zealand shooting is terrorism, committed by a Nativist white supremacist. My heart goes out to the families of the victims and all those impacted by this act of terror. Now those of us who want to co-exist with each other, let us continue working towards countering acts like this with love and compassion for all humans.

 

Danish (2015 Pakistani Delegation)

I couldn’t stop thinking about the attack for quite a time. But then I saw love, empathy, humanity, and peace prevailing in the small acts of the people all around the globe, especially in New Zealand.

The way New Zealanders have responded to this terrorist attack is a great example of how we can fight the hate, Islamophobia, and terrorism in this world together.

Prayers for all the victims and their families. More power to New Zealand’s prime minister for standing against this horrific incident.

Let us all of us play our humble part through our words and deeds against hate, violence, Islamophobia, brutality, terrorism, and every act against humanity.

 

Ruba (1994 Palestinian Delegation)

I have watched the video of the New Zealand massacre over and over again to make sense of what happened. But it seems so unreal. It could be a movie or a video game, but definitely not reality. This guy is not mentally sick. He is blinded by his ideology. People all over the world have become blinded. When will we come to our senses?!

 

Jasir (2011 Pakistani Delegation)

Isolating the terrorist attack in New Zealand as a one random instance is hypocrisy. The event is a result of years of systematic Islamophobia through western media and governments. Reducing Islam to ISIS, Al-Qaeda, and Taliban (all products of intervention of Western powers in Islamic countries), will only increase the incidence of hate-based crimes. May the Western world have the moral courage to see through its own hypocrisies and years of discrimination against Muslims.

 

Doron (2008 Israeli Delegation)

My heart goes to all of the victims of the massacre in New Zealand. To all my Muslim friends: I am sorry. To the world: We can do better than this. We must.

 

Ahmed (2000 Egyptian Delegation)

Is there a clash of civilizations? Is there a global crisis embodied in a Judeo, Christian, Buddhist, Hindu, Islamic, Atheist, Agnostic, Non-denominational, LGBTQ+, Straight, Brown, White, Yellow, Red, and Black maelstrom of a rift … etc?

No, there isn’t. But there is a clash between those who accept our increasingly multicultural world and those who want to forcibly and violently paint it in one color, be it creed, color, sexual orientation or whatever other facet that can be exploited for the dehumanization of others, and the subsequent self aggrandization.

You can see this clash in the genocide of the Muslim Rohingya in Myanmar by Buddhists, the internment of millions of Muslim Uighurs in China, the radicalism of ISIS and its targeting of civilians worldwide and its infatuation with killing other Muslims in droves, the Zionist occupation with its ethnic cleansing tactics, the rampant anti-semitism and anti-Western sentiment in Islamic and Arab countries which is fanned by the very despotic rulers that are propped by the West, the Sunni-Shiite conflicts, the specter of the Catholic-Protestant ethno-nationalist conflict in Ireland, the targeting and displacement of Muslims by Indian nationalists, the targeting and displacement of Coptic Christians in rural upper Egypt, and, of course, White supremacy in its violent form.

All these are examples of conflicts or ideological clashes that came into being due to multifactorial reasons, but what’s important is that they all culminated in ideologies where people bandwagon other groups of people based on distinguishable characteristics and then go on to vehemently and violently seek their removal from a given area. These ideologies perpetrate dehumanizing them and ultimately killing them, and can be found everywhere in today’s world, and this is the bad news.

The good news is that we are becoming a multicultural world. Nearly every major city is full of diverse groups of people coexisting and enriching their cities through their diversity: economically, culturally, and intellectually. The same goes for any major university campus. So we have two forces in play; ideologies of coexistence and ideologies of violent removal of the other.

There is a difference, however, between coexistence and assimilation. I have no qualms with a white supremacist wanting to only associate with other white people, as long as they abide by the laws of the land, and bring no harm to others.

Similarly, I have no problem with someone wanting to live in New York’s Chinatown and only associate with the Chinese community. Human beings should be free to associate with whomever they want, and to promote their way of life, as long as it doesn’t involve hate peddling, violence towards others, or breaking the laws of the land. So we are at a clash of civilizations between those who are happy with our increasingly globalized and multicultural world and those who want to violently remove one type of people from the equation.

Perhaps that’s why New Zealand was targeted. It was one of the few places left on Earth that the virus of these diabolical ideologies hadn’t touched. It would be naive to think that this will be the end of it—in fact, deaths as a result of these ideologies are happening as I write this post, and they will keep on happening. It is heart-wrenching that the violence of these ideologies has reached New Zealand’s shores, but the silver lining is that New Zealand has shown the world how best to react to the violence of these ideologies.

Thank you, New Zealand, for how you handled this tragic and heinous terrorist attack. I hope that the rest of the world is taking notes.

 

Ashraf (2015 Fellow)

We were humans once, a while ago, a long time ago. Before we were slaughtered by white supremacists in our places of worship, before we were bombed to win an election, before they put us in concentration camps, refugee camps, cages and shackles, we were human. Once … not anymore.

We are now subjects, not human. We are to be massacred, incited, incarcerated, convinced and convicted, raped, and led to believe that all of this is normal. Led to believe that somehow our existence depends on the suffering of others: slave, second-class citizen, militarily occupied, Muslim, Jew, Queer, Black, Native, woman … a hostage we can get our hands on when we’re fed up with being poor, unheard, or insignificant.

So we can pretend for a minute we are not human. Not fragile, sensitive, empathetic, reasonable, thoughtful, considerate, or afraid. We choose to represent the state and to kill those who criticize it. We are not humans; we are guns, tanks and assault rifles, patriots, and so goddamn loyal we will follow our leader to the smoky back room and choke in there with him, not her, never her, never us.

We can’t lead shit, we can’t think for ourselves, who are we to make a reasonable decision and decide once and for all to stop and say “wait, what?”

But you are human. You are human and you are alive unlike countless victims, thousands of dead worshipers, drowned refugees, starved children, and forgotten passengers.

You are not a white supremacist, F16 pilot, soldier, martyr, or agent of state.

You are not even a voter, a representative, CEO, president or prime minister. You are a human being and I know you will do anything to forget you are, but you are, and we need you to remember that.

You need you to remember that, because we are so tired of reminding you and running under the covers of thoughts and prayers.

To my sisters and brothers, be they Muslims in New Zealand and Hebron, Jews in Pittsburgh, Christians in Nigeria, or anyone, anywhere persecuted for their faith, we stand with you in spirit and through our work.

 

Micah (2004 American Delegation)

So saddened by the tragic deaths in the mosque shootings in New Zealand. In their honor, The Jerusalem Youth Chorus is sharing Adinu, a Sufi chant whose words in Arabic mean “I believe in the religion of love.” Hatred based on religion or ethnicity is becoming more and more interconnected. Our love must be as well.

 

Nazaqat (2004 Indian Delegation)

What compels me to write this was the manner in which New Zealand, the families of those who lost their loved ones, and Muslim communities at large responded to the mosque shootings. The choice of ‘responded to’ and not ‘reacted to’ is deliberate given the maturity, magnanimity, responsibility, and wholeness with which they are dealing with the situation.

Jacinda Ardern, the prime minister of New Zealand, has set a tone from which we can all learn. To start with, she refused to use the name of the man who mercilessly shot at those in prayer, and simply referred to him as a terrorist. This was important because very often, by naming the perpetrators, we give them the (misplaced) glory they seek.

A lot of what Ardern said in her speeches resonated deeply, most of all, the line, “They are us.” While it’s always easier to put the blame entirely outside and deal with issues superficially, as most people and world leaders do, Ardern took responsibility. She used this as an opportunity to introspect and put her own house in order by vowing to change gun laws and delivering on her promise one week later. It takes immense courage, integrity, and intellectual honesty to take one’s share of responsibility at a time like this and address an issue as fundamental and intrinsically linked as this.

Exactly a week after the shootings, Ardern, together with thousands of Muslims and non-Muslims, gathered outside the same mosque for Jummah prayer, letting the world know in no uncertain terms that New Zealand was one. Several non-Muslim women chose to wear head scarves, blurring the most obvious way of distinguishing Muslim women from non-Muslim women and sending out a strong message that the world was creating an artificial difference between Muslims and non-Muslims.

One of the names to be remembered and glorified is that of Naeem Rashid, who attacked the terrorist and diverted the terrorist’s attention to himself to give other worshippers an opportunity to escape. To have shown courage the presence of mind and been so selfless in the face of death speaks volumes about the man Naeem Rashid must have been. When his widow, Ambreen Rashid was interviewed, we learned that she had not only lost her husband but also her son, Talha.

Despite the pain, grief, and tremendous loss, Ambreen had not lost her faith in Islam, God, or the power of love and said she was ready to go to the same mosque again. She mentioned how she was not going to let the terrorist take away from her all her treasured and cherished memories of her family or the love in her heart. She felt sorry for the terrorist that he had so much hatred in his heart and didn’t have the love, peace, or contentment which she had.

Saba Khan, Naeem Rashid’s niece, made a pointed but pertinent observation during the interview. She said that she was extremely proud that the Muslim community was not generalizing the entire Australian population as the villain while acknowledging that it was the act of an individual and not of all Australians. Similarly, in the past, it was individuals who identified themselves with Islam who had carried out attacks and not the entire Muslim population.

Despite being the victim and having every reason to retaliate, Muslim communities have chosen to work towards solutions that are more long lasting and peaceful. Several Canadian mosques have joined together to invite local non-Muslims to visit and see for themselves what mosques are like and have a chance to understand Islam for what it truly stands for. The only way to dispel hatred, fear and ignorance is by shining light, and that’s what this campaign attempts to do.

Being Indian and in light of the recent attacks and airstrikes in India and Pakistan, I cannot help but acknowledge New Zealand and the Muslim community even more for the phenomenal and praiseworthy manner in which each segment of its society has responded.

 

Hannah (1999 American Delegation)

Watching Jacinda Ardern, the prime minister of New Zealand, over the past few days has felt like a perfect example of why we need more female political leadership. She not only had a child (and took maternity leave!) during this administration, but also approached this crisis with a level of humility, grace, and gentleness that is so lacking in so many other places today.

I was so moved by the images of her in a hijab, hugging mourners with what appeared to be such genuine sorrow. She did not try to hide her anger or her purpose (changing gun laws or not saying the terrorist’s name for instance), but she made people feel included and respected.

I spoke with a good friend who is Muslim who said she cried when she saw her in a hijab and noted that even some of the most liberal American politicians have never set foot in a mosque.

I struggled at first to convey these ideas because I didn’t want to put Prime Minister Ardern in a box and say that only women can be gentle. Obviously that’s untrue—men can be gentle and calm and women can be aggressive!

However, the leadership Ardern showed this weekend was an alternative to so many of the mostly male examples we’ve seen around the world.

In order for our future leaders—both male and female—to learn to respond to conflict with empathy, gentleness, firmness, and real emotion we need more models like her. We need to learn from her behavior and we need to name what about her behavior was more typically “feminine” and demand that it be just the norm. From all of our politicians.

 

Chintan (2014 Indian Educator)

I was moved by the way in which Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern responded to the terror attack. I thought it was a beautiful example of compassionate and culturally sensitive leadership. In the last few days, however, I’ve been uncomfortable with how media coverage is focused on her as a hero rather than the people who have experienced loss. I guess we’re all so disillusioned with incompetent leaders—particularly men—everywhere in the world that we want to celebrate someone we see as humane and empathetic.

 

Pooja (2018 Fellow)

It took me a few days than usual to come in terms with what happened in Christchurch. We live in a time when horrific incidents ignite a wildfire of hatred and bigotry turning every bleeding heart into stone. How do you keep the heart bleeding for another? How does one continue to be human?

I just couldn’t churn out mere words and whisper prayers; been there, done that, one too many times. What more can we do?

What sent chills down my spine wasn’t the horrific mass shooting but my own lack of shock upon hearing the news on March 15, 2019.

“Yet another one.” I felt nauseous. But I wasn’t shocked—I was numb.

There’s only a sliver of difference between being numb and indifferent. I’ve devoted my life to this constant fight between the two: how not to be weighed down by numbness or let myself or others be indifferent.

Working hard to remember my own humanity and imploring others to do the same is a difficult place to be. A place where one would hope for silver linings to give you the strength to pursue love while drowning in the deluge of hate.

I would never say that there are silver linings in this tragedy. There’s never any silver lining in any tragedy. However, there are rays of sunshine that emerge and fill your soul with the promise of a bright, sunny day.

Jacinda Ardern, the fearless prime minister of New Zealand, is redefining leadership. Muslim communities whose resilience and steadfast faith brought the world closer beyond borders and beliefs. Khaled Beydoun remembering the names, faces, and lives of the 50 precious people we lost. Artists who’ve helped expressing this belching pain in color. The youth whose zeal and vigor gives the rest of us hope. The powerful haka tributes. People who stood outside and guarded mosques. Those who walked arm-in-arm with their Muslim brothers and sisters.

These are my rays of sunshine.

I want you to place a hand over your heart and celebrate yourself for turning to love.

And if you’d like to do one more thing, just one more, write a letter with me!

The non-profit organization I founded has launched a campaign, #LettersforChristchurch, and will be collecting letters of love and solidarity for the rest of the month. These handwritten letters will be delivered to the two mosques where the terrorist attacks happened and also to the families of those deceased.

There are always opportunities for us to be human. Here’s one.

 

Want to add your voice to this campaign? Comment in the space below, or if you are a Seed, Fellow, or Seeds of Peace Educator, send your reflections to eric@seedsofpeace.org.

Bonds of Friendship in a bitter war
The Christian Science Monitor

Aug 15, 2002 / No Comments

OTISFIELD, MAINE | In the end, Ariel Tal came back and Saja Abuhigleh stayed.

Simple acts, perhaps. But also acts of courage and hope at this wooded Maine camp, a refuge from the devastating daily violence of the Middle East, a place where teenagers from Israel and Palestine meet in an effort to find solutions rather than propagate hatred.

Ariel had twice before attended Seeds of Peace, as the camp is named. But that was before a suicide bomber in Jerusalem last December blew up his friend just 20 feet from the ice cream store where Ariel was sprinkling jimmies onto a cone. Had he not lingered a few seconds, he knew, it could have been his funeral for which the neighborhood turned out.

Amid the carnage, he looked down and realized he was wearing his green Seeds of Peace sweatshirt. “I got really confused,” Ariel says. “I didn’t know what I was looking for here, and why I was chasing it so hard.”

Even before arriving for her first year at camp, Saja had her doubts about sharing a bunkhouse and breaking bread with Israelis. On her second day, she called home and learned Israeli soldiers had occupied Ramallah, her hometown. They had detained her great-uncle’s son and struck the elderly man when he asked why.

“When [my family] told me, I started crying, and I said, ‘I want to go to my home in Palestine right now! I can’t stay here,’ ” Saja says, stumbling over her words in the rush to get them out.

But Saja stayed and Ariel shed short-lived thoughts of vengeance and came back, one of the small group of returning campers who offer support and mentoring to new arrivals each year.

Their experiences, however, attest to the challenges facing a camp that some call naively idealistic and others see as the only sane response to a world situation that seems to have lost all reason. Journalist John Wallach founded Seeds of Peace in 1993, prompted in part by the first bombing of the World Trade Center. He invited 46 teenagers that year, hoping to teach young people from this bitterly divided region how to listen to one another.

But the camp has never faced a summer quite like this one. Working for peace in the Middle East has always been a courageous choice. Doing it amid the horrific violence of the current intifada, and Israel’s brutal backlash, is practically inconceivable. It is a violence that has become personal, even for teenagers, even for children.

And if the camp is to succeed, if the three weeks teenagers from each side spend laughing, arguing, and living together is to mean anything, it is a violence they somehow must find the strength to look beyond.

Getting acquainted

On June 24, the same day President Bush called for the ouster of Yasser Arafat in a much-anticipated Middle East policy speech, 166 teenagers arrived at this sleepy lakeside retreat 30 miles northwest of Portland, where only the names of the campers and the constant presence of police cars at the gate indicate that this is any different from the dozens of other camps nearby.

Almost all the campers are sponsored by Seeds of Peace; all went through a lengthy, competitive application process to get here, and all were selected by their education ministries in part for their potential to lead.

Their mission: to get to know one another as individuals rather than as the enemy, in a place removed from the hatred back home. Though Seeds of Peace has expanded over its first decade—it now accepts young people from other regions of conflict and has established a year-round Center for Coexistence in Jerusalem—it still rests on the same simple premise: that interaction breeds understanding.

You don’t have to like each other, camp director Tim Wilson reminds the campers at the opening ceremony, just recognize that each individual is a human being deserving of respect.

“You can go home, and yes, there are things there we have no control over,” Mr. Wilson tells them. “But here, we do have control. You have the right to sit down and talk to someone you normally would not talk to.”

The campers listen eagerly, applauding vigorously. When it comes time to sing the Seeds of Peace song, they belt it out: “People of peace, rejoice, rejoice/ For we have united into one voice….”

When the gathering ends, however, they cluster with others like them, finding comfort in a shared language and traditions. It takes a few days, or more, says Wilson, before many start branching out. When he sees girls from different sides “sitting around talking about P. Diddy,” or boys discussing the World Cup, he knows they’ve reached common ground.

The camp is designed for informal interaction. Six to nine campers, grouped by conflict region, share each of the well-kept bunkhouses that line the shore of Pleasant Lake. Campers eat with a second group and join a third for the daily 90-minute “coexistence session.” With this third group, they also play sports and participate in activities intended to build cooperation and trust, from a ropes course to a dance exercise in which they mimic each other’s movements.

One of this year’s new campers is Sami Habash, an articulate, blond Palestinian from Jerusalem who plans to attend Israel’s prestigious Hebrew University next year although he’s only 16. An intense young man, he’s pleased to be in an environment where everyone wants peace. But his first interest is in scoring political points.

“I want to tell [the Israelis] that we don’t have water at night. I go up to drink, and no water.” During debate, Sami hopes “to see Israelis themselves freely admitting their country’s mistakes.”

Adar Ziegel, an Israeli from Haifa who for as long as she can remember has dreamed of being her country’s prime minister, has less formulated plans. She’s heard great things about the camp from her boyfriend and is excited to see whether teens on opposite sides of the checkpoints can find solutions. Adar shares her bunkhouse and her coexistence session with Saja. Sami will be in a coexistence session with Ariel. The Monitor chose to focus on these four teens two Israelis and two Palestinians to gain some insight into the small triumphs, epiphanies, and setbacks that occur in these weeks of typical camp fun mixed with not-so-typical discussion and debate.

All four arrived with hope, but also a degree of skepticism their homeland, after all, is in tatters. Saja, who has never met an Israeli before, came armed with photos, downloaded from the Internet, that graphically portray Israeli soldiers’ abuse of Palestinians. She cannot forget the day she saw a soldier strike a small boy on the head, causing blood to spurt out.

And Sami, though ready to listen, has a long list of grievances from life under occupation to share with his Israeli counterparts.

In past years, says Ariel, discussions focused mainly on policy. “We just argued about the past and whether or not we want Jerusalem to be united.” This year, “the new kids have personal experiences. I have experiences of my own.”

Trying to win

In a nondescript one-room cabin, words and allegations fly. Facilitator Marieke Van-woerkom had eased into the coexistence session with a rather vague question: “What does it take to have peace?”

But after a few predictable, detached responses—”Stop war,” “End the bombs,” “Both sides have to trust each other”—the campers switch gears to get at specific gripes, often using a “we-you” phrasing.

“We can’t trust you,” says one Israeli. “We gave you weapons in Oslo. Today, we see those weapons being used on us.” And, he asks, why did Arafat reject Israel’s offer at Camp David two years ago?

“It wasn’t enough,” responds a frustrated Palestinian. “We want our land, but also to be free in this land. We want borders like other countries. A government, like other countries.”

“What do you want us to build a government for you?” the Israeli shoots back.

“When you give us the land, you must trust us.”

Saja objects when one Israeli refers to suicide bombers as terrorists. A fellow Palestinian likens them to messengers, delivering a message from a people who have no other resources.

“Do you think the message is being delivered in the way you want it delivered?” an Israeli girl wants to know.

After about 90 minutes, Ms. Vanwoerkom brings the session to a close with a final suggestion: “What I’d like for you to think about is, what it is inside of us that makes it so hard to truly listen and understand each other? You feel you’re not being listened to, but where are you not listening?”

Ariel, in his third year, has seen campers doggedly stake out their own positions before: “They come to win.” So did he, when he first arrived, a camper with right-wing politics and the view that the best solution was to remove all Arabs and “put them somewhere else.”

“It changes,” he says. “They face the reality and say, ‘OK, we can’t win. What next?’ You realize understanding is the important part.”

Still, even during this particular heated session, the teenagers have accomplished what many of their compatriots back home seem incapable of. They’ve carried on a debate without violence or, for the most part, raised voices.

Besides, reaching consensus is not really the goal. Vanwoerkom says she’s wary of pushing campers too far, too fast. The “brick wall” they hit when they get back home will be that much harder, especially this year. “I’m trying to find that balance,” she says, “between learning, development, growth and going back home and being able to build on those lessons.”

Facing challenges

Midway through camp, Adar finds her political foundations shaken.

She considers herself progressive, even pro-Palestinian.

But when Saja compares the Israeli occupation of Palestine to the Holocaust, Adar loses her composure. Her grandparents narrowly escaped Poland and Germany. Many of her relatives died in concentration camps.

“[Saja] said that from their point of view, we can just go back to Germany and Italy and stuff,” says Adar angrily. “I myself would never go back to a place that put numbers on my grandparents’ arms.”

Still, she thinks carefully about how to teach as well as react, giving Saja a copy of “Anne Frank: The Diary of a Young Girl.” “She’s actually reading it,” Adar says a few days later. “I feel that once she reads that book she’ll have a much more wise understanding.” For Sami, facts have been the primary source of tension.

The Israelis in his coexistence session, he says, get them all wrong. “When I’m talking to [one Israeli settler], I’m counting on some facts that I know. When he changes the facts, I say I’m sure my facts are correct. He’s changing my facts just to make it more difficult for me to talk!”

Like Saja, Sami in his session pressed the point that Israelis should leave Palestine. He remains baffled by the outburst his comment provoked.

“They got really crazy about it,” the normally mild-mannered Palestinian says resentfully. “They said they were offended because some of them understood it as ‘Go back to Hitler.’ Others understood it as, ‘I don’t agree with the idea of a Jewish state.'”

Neither is true, Sami insists. What he wants is for Israelis to acknowledge they took land that wasn’t theirs. Finally, he lets it drop. But the experience leaves a bad taste in his mouth. “At the beginning of camp, I had some more positive ideas about the people I was negotiating with. But now some of [those opinions] have changed.”

Final days

If the informal mingling of Israeli and Palestinian teens signals success, then camp this year could get high marks.

The camp’s color games—three days of athletic competition—further erode national allegiances. The competition here is between blue and green, not Israel and Palestine.

“My team won!” says Saja brightly. She played baseball and canoed for the first time. Now she’s running around like a senior before graduation, asking everyone she knows to write indelible-ink messages on her T-shirt.

Adar, meanwhile, eagerly recounts tales of the talent show, for which she coached a boys’ bunkhouse in a ballet routine.

Now, with a teenager’s bent for melodrama, she says she’s heartbroken at the thought of leaving. “I’m going to hug a tree and carve myself into it,” she sighs. She’s already making plans to visit Nada, an Egyptian girl in her cabin, and says she’s even forgiven Saja.

“We have the best bunk ever,” Adar says firmly.

But all hasn’t been perfect.

In the middle of color games, John Wallach, the camp’s founder, died in New York.

“I didn’t want to continue any more,” says Ariel, who knew Wallach. “I was unable to think. But I realized the kids are looking up to me, and if I were to leave color games, they would do the same. [So] I kept on going.”

Just days after Wallach’s death, Dateline NBC runs an hour-long special about the camp, focusing on five teenagers from its first summer. One Israeli is now a right-wing settler, and a Palestinian he befriended at the time is active in promoting nationalist causes. The other three also seem to have drifted a long way from the idealistic teenagers who shook hands with Bill Clinton and Yasser Arafat 10 years ago.

The camp may create an aura of hope, Dateline implies, but the dreams the teens walk away with will likely wither in the heat of the violence back home.

It’s a charge the camp’s leaders are familiar with. They accept that some campers will lose the lessons of peace.

Still, Bobbie Gottschalk, the camp’s executive vice president, says she’s heard from most of those original campers since Wallach’s death. One, an Egyptian named Tamer Nagy, is this year’s program coordinator. Koby Sadan, who attended Seeds of Peace in 1994 and ’95 and just finished his three-year stint in the Israeli army, is also working as a counselor this summer.

Seeds of Peace now has more than 2,000 graduates, Ms. Gottschalk says. If just a few of them hang on to what they’ve learned and eventually become leaders in their region they could have a big impact.

“We’re just trying to get people to think for themselves,” she says. “And to care about people who are not like them. If we can expand the circle of their concern to go beyond people who are not exactly like them, then we’ve gone a long way toward building a citizen of the world.”

Heading home

No one can say what makes the camp’s message stick with one person and fizzle with another. All that’s certain is that it will be tested back home, one reason the camp has created a year-round center in Jerusalem to continue work with former campers.

Saja is excited to have made Israeli friends. But she hesitates when asked what life will be like when she returns to Ramallah. “Here, I can do everything I want,” she says. “But [in Palestine] I can’t move … To go to school from Ramallah to Jerusalem, I have to pass three checkpoints. When I stand there I think that I want to kill these soldiers, and I don’t want peace with them.”

Adar insists the bonds she has formed in three weeks, with Palestinians as well as Israelis, are stronger than those she’s formed over three years back home. She still feels her country is “falling apart,” but she takes heart from something Tim Wilson, the camp director, told her. “Tim [who is African-American] asked his father when segregation will end. And his father said, ‘When this generation dies.'” She and her fellow campers, Adar hopes, will form a new generation. Sami, however, finds it harder to imagine how Palestinians his age, pushed to a boiling point, might respond to a message of tolerance. “They’re going to tell me, ‘Can’t you see what’s happening? Aren’t you living in this country? You still want peace after all you can see?’ ”

To a point, Sami shares their rage. He is furious when he thinks of Israeli tanks and guns overpowering unarmed Palestinians. Still, he has thought carefully about the situation. “There is no way but peace for Palestinians. The Israelis have power. They can manage with peace or without peace. We Palestinians have rocks. We have nothing. So, of course, I will keep trying.”

A few days after he returns home to Jerusalem, Sami is already thinking about contacting the Israeli friends he made and visiting the Seeds of Peace center. Recent events have changed one plan, though: He no longer wants to attend Hebrew University, shattered last month by a cafeteria suicide bombing. The Technion, in Haifa, he reasons, is as good a school and less of a potential target.

From what Ariel suggests, much of what Sami, Saja, Adar, and other new campers learned at Seeds of Peace this summer has yet to sink in. He has learned that the emotional highs campers take with them from Maine can quickly crash to devastating lows. Only then can they begin to decide whether what they experienced was illusion or truth. “The experience is different [for each one],” says Ariel. “Camp is a bubble.”

Ariel, who toyed with the idea of vengeance after the suicide bombing he saw in December, is now firm in his own path.

“I got to a conclusion that we have no other way [but to work for peace],” he says. “We can do this. We can’t do anything else.”

Read Amanda Paulson’s follow-up 2003 Christian Science Monitor story »