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August 1 Letter to Israeli and Palestinian Seeds

Dear Seeds Family,

I write to you after days of searching for the right words, knowing even now that nothing I say will feel sufficient. After nearly a month of horrific violence in Gaza, and killing in Israel and Palestine, I am deeply angered by each day that goes by with so many of you living amid such fear, death, and destruction.

Every day I hold my breath as I make calls to ensure our Seeds and staff are still alive. I cannot even imagine how those of you living in harm’s way feel right now.

I want to share with you some of the conversations that I have been having with many members of Seeds of Peace’s leadership—Bobbie, Tim, Eva, Wil—as well as Seeds. As an organization, this has been a time of profound soul searching as we think critically about what we are and what we want to be.

Seeds of Peace was never meant to be a public advocacy, political lobbying, or humanitarian organization. We are not charged with, nor are we capable of, negotiating political solutions. Our mission has been to provide skills and experiences that allow you to take on these roles and lead change in your communities, and do everything we can to elevate your voices and share your work. Even in the darkness, I have seen countless examples of the impact of this work and the ways in which you are exercising your leadership.

In 1993, when John founded Seeds of Peace, peace in the immediate future felt possible; John looked to support graduates who could help peace take root after agreements were signed. Those hopeful years faded, and agreements signed between Palestinians and Israelis have failed to result in a just peace.

Seeds of Peace programs have over time grown to better address this reality on the ground, and we are still evolving daily.

I can understand that being part of an organization focused on the long term feels insufficient right now, when so many of you are fearing for your lives or worried about friends and loved ones. I respect that many of you are wrestling with your own expectations of Seeds of Peace in this moment, and want you to know that we are doing the same, and invite you to be part of our process.

What is certain is that we exist to stand by and support you as you share your stories, tell your truths and work towards change in and between your communities. Our programming in all regions and for all ages is designed around this core principle. We will continue providing transformational experiences, forging connections and creating spaces where you can raise your voices to audiences that would not otherwise hear them.

I have been inspired numerous times over the past few weeks by the ways in which many of you have done just this, even under such difficult circumstances. But, there have also been discouraging moments when members of our Seeds family have failed to show the respect we strive for.

We will continue to encourage empathy and engagement over dehumanization and demonization. We will continue to value respect, responsibility, and courage.

We are also morally, ethically, and emotionally compelled to join countless other voices in condemning violence in all its forms, while acknowledging that ceasefires are only the first step in addressing the injustice, fear, and hatred at the root of this violence.

As you may know, Camp is currently underway. I am in awe of the courage these Seeds have shown in bringing their voices to the table at this time. While we still treasure the safe space we create here in Maine, we are not naive to the realities from which these Seeds come, and have adjusted Camp to respect these realities.

The bright spots for me these past few weeks have been hearing from so many of you. Our community of alumni and staff continues to be one of the most caring and passionate networks I know. Even the difficult conversations remind me of why being a part of this community is so powerful.

I want to know how you are, and what you are thinking. How can we better support you? How can we mobilize our community to come together and take action in ways that are meaningful?

We strive to provide the platform and invite you to help shape it. Our charge over the next weeks will be to assemble your recommendations and build meaningful programs. Even if you do not have answers to these questions, write me with sincerity, and I promise to respond with the same care.

With love and respect,

Leslie

Behind the camera, a grandmother to 7,300 sees the possibilities

There are few septuagenarians who could inspire the sort of rock-star status among a gaggle of teenagers that Bobbie Gottschalk does at the Seeds of Peace Camp in Maine.

Sightings of the diminutive, gray-haired grandmother—always adorned with a baseball cap and a camera around her neck—are often met with squeals of delight, and requests for hugs and photos with and by Bobbie. And she gladly obliges; each photograph is another chance to connect with campers, to hear how they’re feeling, what’s bringing them joy, what’s causing them concern.

In more than a few ways, her camera is a natural extension of what she does best: She sees people.

Whether it was seeing the potential in John Wallach’s idea to create a camp that brought together kids from the Middle East, or the reason one camper might be standoffish in group activities, or the heights that young Seeds and staff could reach if given the chance, for nearly three decades Bobbie has seen people not just for who they are, but for who they could become.

“Bobbie gave me the most important opportunities in my professional life and supported me through many of the most challenging moments we faced in building the Middle East regional program and keeping its spirit alive through profoundly difficult times,” said Ned Lazarus, a former counselor at Camp and Middle East Program Director. “I owe my entire career, and much of what I’m proud to have done in my life, to her faith in me and my ability to contribute to this community.”

Since her days as the first executive director of Seeds of Peace, she’s been a steady source of hope, encouragement, and guidance for Seeds of Peace staff and alumni alike. And while she could spend her golden years in the comfort of her family’s vacation home, every summer since 1993 she has faithfully returned to her small cabin at Camp—among the mosquitos, ticks, rain, and heat—where she’s embraced a new purpose: documenting the daily ins and outs of Camp, using her personal social media accounts to keep the organization’s alumni connected, and embracing the role of the loving-but-firm grandmother for campers, counselors, and 7,300 alumni.

“In so many ways Bobbie is all of the things that we as an organization strive to embody,” said Leslie Lewin, executive director of Seeds of Peace. “To say that Bobbie is the connective tissue of Seeds of Peace is an understatement; her impact on the organization and thousands of Seeds is immeasurable.”

AT HOME WHILE AWAY

The walls of Bobbie’s neatly-appointed cabin at Camp are a patchwork quilt of memories, adorned with photographs of her with Seeds and various staff from over the years, and, of course, turtles. Bobbie has long had a tradition of giving a necklace with a turtle charm to second-year campers, known as Paradigm Shifters, or P.S.s. It’s a small reminder that Seeds of Peace is the home that the campers will always carry with them, just as everywhere a turtle goes it carries its home.

But perhaps the most important item in her makeshift museum might be a single sheet of paper hanging over the desk where she uploads photographs (sometimes an all-night process, due to a shaky wifi signal) and writes the daily Camp Reports.

Dated April 1, 1993, it’s the cover letter that she sent along with her resume to John Wallach, the founder of Seeds of Peace. He and his wife, Janet—who remains an active member of the Seeds of Peace Board of Directors today—had attended a meeting of Bobbie’s book club the previous night to discuss the book they had co-authored, “The New Palestinians.” There, he mentioned that he was also looking for an executive director for a camp he was planning to start that summer.

Whether or not you believe in fate, it was truly exceptional timing.

“I had been looking to start something from scratch for children, possibly a camp in Maine—where I had grown up going to dance camp—and he needed someone with foundational and fundraising experience,” she said. “It was a perfect match.”

Further, the idea of a Camp that allowed historic enemies to meaningfully engage with one another, to see each other as human beings, deeply resonated with Bobbie. Her grandparents had been smuggled out of the former Soviet Union in the early 1900s to escape persecution for being Jewish, and she said she grew up very focused on peace. Her mother worked for the Red Cross and eventually became a teacher, and Bobbie attended a college established by Quakers. It was there that, during the height of the Cold War, she and a few other students from her Russian literature class had the opportunity to visit Russia.

“I had been warned that my being Jewish could make me a target,” Bobbie recalled. “This stern warning, and the emotional baggage from my grandmother, put me on constant alert. Not surprisingly, I had my first asthma attack there.”

In spite of this emotional and physical tension, she dove headfirst into her program, learning, most importantly, that the Russian students weren’t so different from herself and the other American students.

“They were afraid of us, just as we were wary of them. They would take us out on rowboats and grill us about our lives in the U.S.A. They would beg us to give them a pair of our jeans,” she said. “I learned that people have a lot in common, even enemies. And none of the people we spoke with wanted to wipe us off the face of the earth, like our political leaders claimed.”

It was a formative experience for Bobbie, and was undoubtedly a key reason why John’s idea for Seeds of Peace deeply resonated with her.

Those first few years were filled with triumphs and “I can’t believe we’re pulling this off” type moments: donated air tickets and services, foreign ministries agreeing to send kids to America to meet with the “enemy,” landing a front-row seat to the signing of the Oslo Accord, and numerous features from international press, including a national broadcasting crew that followed the first five days of the very first session of Camp.

“It was terrifying!” she said of having a camera crew present. “John was determined to have the media involved from the get-go, and I never would have invited the outside world for the first five days of Camp, but the feedback was really great. I think the idea that the next generation would not have to live through what the current generation was living through really resonated with a lot of people.”

From that first session of 46 boys, the Camp and Seeds of Peace grew quickly, soon including female campers and evolving the dialogue program. In 1998, Bobbie started SeedsNet, an online list serve for Seeds that would become her first foray into serving as a digital social connector.

But even as Seeds of Peace was growing and thriving, there was no denying that things would soon be very different. John was dying, and in the summer of 2002, he finally succumbed to non-smokers lung cancer.

“When we told the Camp, I think it really scared a lot of the campers,” she recalled. “They thought, ‘Well, this is the end of Seeds of Peace.’ So we had to mourn him and deal with our own grief, but we also had to give the campers hope that this was too good to die with John.”

The next few years were extremely difficult for Bobbie and Seeds of Peace. Out of respect for John, the staff had made few preparations for a future without him as president, and it took time to find the right successor.

“It was a very hard few years, probably a textbook case of what happens when the founder, especially one who is so magnetic and the face of the organization, dies or leaves and there hasn’t been any real preparation made beforehand,” she said. “People were very reluctant to try to fill his shoes and it was very difficult.”

One of John’s successors stripped Bobbie of the majority of her duties, and many friends and family members urged her to quit.

“But I couldn’t abandon this place,” she said. “When leaders leave, it feels like the end, and I felt I would be letting the kids down.”

She did eventually step down from her staff role in 2004 and became a member of the Board of Directors. But she was still only in her early 60s and wanted to stay actively involved, so as one chapter of her life closed, she recalled advice from her mother.

“She told me that the hardest thing about getting old is losing your purpose. You have to replace it with some other purpose,” she said. “I had always wanted to have a role at Camp, and we didn’t have a photographer, so I picked up a camera.”

BEHIND THE LENS

She’s mostly self taught when it comes to taking pictures, but some of the best advice she ever received came from a sports photographer: Stand still, the action will come to you.

It usually takes about a week for the campers to stop requesting so many photos and to become accustomed to seeing Bobbie snapping photos while they canoe, climb the ropes courses, dance, or play sports.

This familiarity not only makes for better photographs, but through the camera’s lens, the former social worker is able to observe the campers’ transformations in ways she wouldn’t so easily be able to do otherwise.

“You don’t just stare at people, but with a camera, they can’t see where my eyes are. And, I feel like I am able to capture the change that comes over their faces,” she said. “They start off withdrawn, maybe hiding under a sweatshirt or physically closing themselves off, but as they began to buy into it, to see that they are safe and an enemy can become something so much more, they completely change. Sometimes I have pictures of the same person from the beginning of Camp to the end of the first week and I can’t tell that they’re the same person.”

Taking hundreds of thousands of photographs has allowed her to observe a few universal and time-tested truths when it comes to being a teenager at Camp: “Winning trumps everything,” she said with a laugh. “Many of the kids are competitive to begin with, and even if they have a fight earlier in the day, once they’re on the same team for an activity, they’re going to work together because they want to win.”

7,300 REASONS TO HOPE

Her days at Camp begin when everyone else’s does—waking up with the morning bell, lineup by the lake, breakfast, then on to activities. She rarely leaves the grounds while Camp is in session, save for Friday evenings when she makes the 80-minute drive to see her family and do laundry before returning to Camp the next morning. Since 1993 she’s only missed a handful of Camp days, and those were for family emergencies or funerals.

When she’s not at Camp, she lives with her husband, Tom, in Washington, D.C., gives lectures about Seeds of Peace at college campuses several times a year as a Woodrow Wilson Visiting Fellow, and serves on the board of several nonprofits and educational institutions.

But among her many contributions, connecting Seeds with opportunities might be among those that she most values. She’s helped countless Seeds get scholarships, apply to colleges, and launch their careers over the years, and you don’t have to look far to find stories from Seeds about how her encouragement, mentorship, and care has had an immeasurable impact on their lives.

One was Tamer, a camper from Egypt who attended the very first session of Camp.

“As a kid away from home and family for the first time, I remember finding such comfort and warmth in Bobbie as a de facto godmother,” he said. “Bobbie encouraged me to pursue my dream of studying in the United States and helped me get to college. During school holidays, Bobbie welcomed me into her home instead of letting me spend it away from family on campus. Years later, it was also Bobbie who helped me get to and through law school. It is hard to imagine what my life would have looked like without Bobbie’s constant and ongoing support, but Bobbie is also an enthusiastic advocate for each of us. Even a quick scroll through her Facebook feed would show how she beams with pride as she promotes and celebrates each Seed’s achievements.”

With 4,957 friends on Facebook—a list that she has to occasionally cull, since the site limits individual accounts to 5,000 friends—she has taken on the unofficial role of connecting and celebrating Seeds on the social media channel. Sending a birthday message (sometimes as many as 30 a day) is one of her favorite ways to stay up to date with alumni.

“I’m just so pleased with what they’re doing, I never could have predicted so many of the things,” she said. “It’s like watching a garden bloom—but imagine if you planted that garden without having a picture or knowing what the seeds were going to look like.”

Of course, the flip side of being immersed online is that she also has a front-row seat to the negative sides of social media—the ugly exchanges that can play out online, or the constant bombardment of violence and social unrest around the world.

And while there is plenty happening in the world that disappoints her, she said none of it ever discourages her. The Seeds who have come before and are working to make the world better, as well as the ones who are just beginning their journey, are reason enough to keep up hope—and for her to keep coming back.

Sitting among the pine trees beside Pleasant Lake, a soft breeze picked up when asked if, after all these years, there was anything about Camp that still took her breath away.

“I can feel all 7,000 Seeds when I’m here,” she said without hesitation. “I can see the old ones on the lake, I can hear John and Wil Smith, and I know they would still be coming here today if they could. And as long as I’m able to, so will I.”

Seed Stories: Nourishing change, empowering young women

While going to a library to read, study, and work may be a conventional option for many people here in the United States, it is unfortunately not for most Afghans.

Decades of war and never-ending conflict have decimated Afghanistan’s library system and its once vibrant literary culture. Illiteracy among women is staggeringly high (83 percent according to the United Nations), and their engagement in politics, or efforts to improve their own lives or society, continues to be predominantly absent.

When I had the opportunity to design and implement a project through the Afghan Girls Financial Assistance Fund (AGFAF) in 2016, I knew what to do: build a library. Envisioning Baale Parwaz Library (BPL) was not difficult for me, since I grew up wishing for a place just like it: safe, quiet, clean, and offering an abundance of knowledge through books. That childhood desire, combined with the countless hours spent at the libraries of my high school and college here in the US, gave me a good idea of what I wanted. However, such a setting in Kabul did not seem realistic. Yet I was determined to give students, especially girls, the opportunity to read, to think critically, and to discuss issues relating to them and their communities.

Established as a small library serving school children of all ages, Baale Parwaz has, in the past three years, grown from providing books to becoming a full functioning resource center, offering a range of non-traditional classes such as digital literacy, photography, and self-defense, as well as book clubs and STEM camps led by AGFAF students during the summers.

On a daily basis, hundreds of students, teachers, and community members use the library and benefit from its resources. The BPL team also organizes social activities like Acts of Kindnesses, where students put together gifts based on the needs of the targeted groups. This year, we have been working on a knitting project, providing a source of income for women who create hats and scarves, which will then be purchased and given to street child laborers in the cold months of winter.

Building BPL was an undertaking and its success is humbling, but it would not have been possible without the mentorship of AGFAF board member Joseph Highland, my family’s support, and my prior exposure to the process of changemaking through Seeds of Peace.

I was less than 13 years old when I set foot on the Seeds of Peace Camp in Maine. Back then, I did not know that I would remember many things, both big and small, from those 21 days, and carry them with me for the rest of my life. The damp earth, the deep green trees, the blue water … everything was new for me, but there were moments which instantly made me feel at home. Some of my favorite memories are from the dialogue sessions where I learned to see people as people, to not demonize them, and to hear their perspectives as individuals rather than a roaring collective.

After six years of schooling and living in the US, I was feeling anxiety around starting BPL in Kabul, as I was not sure what reaction to expect from my people. I knew that many would not take well to a woman leading such an initiative. After all, it was only a couple of months prior that they had beaten and burned alive a woman named Farkhunda, merely because of an accusation. So, I had my fears, but I also had my dreams, and they were what drove me. Throughout the process of building and operating BPL, I faced many obstacles, mainly because of my gender. For instance, some vendors and contractors did not want to deal with a woman. However, during this process, I also learned that my assumption was true only for a small group of people and that the majority welcomed and appreciated my efforts.

Seeds of Peace taught me to not blanket others with my own assumptions. This lesson, along with a Seeds of Peace shirt, will always stay with me. I believe that change, like anything good, comes gradually and needs constant nourishing. The seed that Camp planted in me is still growing, and I see BPL as a branch or extension of that seed.

For all the Seeds out there, keep growing, spreading, and making lives greener, because the world needs you!

VIDEO: 182 campers from 8 countries welcomed at Seeds of Peace Camp
Lewiston Sun Journal

OTISFIELD | There were no rockets whistling overhead on Sunday morning at Pleasant Lake. There were no thunderous explosions ripping apart humanity or heavy thuds from tank shells noisily obliterating buildings. The only noise came from chickadees chattering away in tall pines as 182 teens from eight countries sang and chanted wholeheartedly 75 minutes prior to a flag-raising ceremony.

It was their morning rally or ‘Line Up’ as human beings at the Seeds of Peace Camp, a three-week journey into self-identity and coexistence.

For 17-year-old Yuval and Rema, it was also respite and a chance to give back to new seeds attending the camp’s second session of its 22nd summer.

Yuval is an Israeli Jew living in central Israel; Rema is a Palestinian living in northern Israel. In 2012, both first came to the Otisfield camp that is located on 44 acres of tall pine trees on Pleasant Lake.

On Sunday, they returned as second-year, peer-support counselors, traveling with the Israeli delegation. But they were rife with worry about family and friends as the Israel-Gaza conflict continues to rage.

The fighting began on July 8 when Israel launched an aerial campaign in Gaza, trying to stop Palestinian rocket fire on major cities. Israel later sent in troops to dismantle Hamas’ cross-border tunnels that have been used to carry out attacks.

Yuval said he came close to dying in a rocket attack. He flew out of Israel on the night of July 30 and early morning of July 31. It was an 11-hour flight to New York, followed by an eight-hour bus ride.

“A day or two before I traveled here on the plane, (the fighting) kind of intensified all day, with rockets coming near my area,” he said. “One almost crashed into the train station. It fell 20 meters from the train station five minutes before I got there.

“There isn’t a safe place near my home for me to hide, like a shelter, so you just kind of hide under the stairs,” Yuval said. “I’m a little bit afraid of a rocket hitting friends’ (homes) or my family’s home.”

A rocket sometimes falls daily where he lives or once every three days. South of his home, rockets fall three to four times a day.

Rema said Palestinians living in Israel are a minority who are denied rights and existence as Palestinians.

“Like most of our rights, we don’t get them since we’re a minority and a Israeli, and Israel identifies itself as a Jewish state, so by definition, we’re almost like nonexisting,” she said.

“You are just an identity card. You’re just a number. And this is not like (Seeds of Peace). I’m more than a number. I am a human.”

Rema said the people in Gaza and the people in the West Bank are part of her nation of Palestine.

“I am Palestinian — exactly as them — and reading the news each day, and feeling that the people in Gaza are just numbers and treated as numbers, like they’re not human,” she said.

“That’s how people treat them. I’m sitting at home and I can do nothing except praying and writing some stuff. It feels exhausting. I (feel) like I need to do something. I want to do something. I want to save a child’s hurt or a soul, but I can’t and that’s why I came here.

“Seeds of Peace gave me that chance to speak up,” Rema said.

And that’s what eight peer supporters did at the flag-raising ceremony, which was a gathering of campers and counselors who raise their nation’s flags, and join hands and voices in unity singing their national anthem.

The second-session’s 182 campers come from Afghanistan, Egypt, India, Israel, Jordan, Palestine, Pakistan and the United States. Of that number, 95 are Israeli and Palestinian.

The internationally-recognized camp was founded by journalist John Wallach and Bobbie Gottschalk.

Leslie Lewin, the camp’s executive director, welcomed the teens who stood in a half circle between Lewin and the camp gate.

“We honor your courage in choosing to be here at this very moment,” Lewin said. “We honor the brave choice that you made 24, 36, 72 hours ago depending on where you live; the choice you made to get on the plane and to come here at such a critical and difficult time.”

A peer-supporter from Afghanistan spoke to the difficulties of living in a war zone. He urged the campers to take advantage of opportunities the camp provides and to work toward a life without discrimination.

A peer-support girl from Egypt told them to be ready to have their beliefs challenged, to let their walls fall down and to listen.

“To make peace with others, you have to go to war with yourself,” Aziz, a peer-supporter from India, said.

Rema spoke to the roller coaster ride of losing all hope where she lives — a place where violence is the day-to-day reality — and then regaining hope by attending Seeds of Peace Camp, speaking up for herself and others.

After the ceremony, Rema said her friend, Ahmad, a Palestinian resident of Gaza and fellow peer-supporter, told her the conflict would prevent him from returning to Otisfield. He asked her to speak for him and the dozen other Palestinians from Gaza who were denied that opportunity by all the fighting.

Rema said when she was a Seeds of Peace camper, she was fearful due to her political opinions. She thought fellow campers would refuse to be her friend, dooming any relationship.

“But then, at some point, I told myself that if I’m not going to speak up with my voice, I’m going back home with zero achievements,” she said. “And so I pushed myself and I’m proud of it, that I’m speaking up and I’m not afraid, because this is my identity.”

Yuval said the Otisfield camp changed him, as well. He said he learned not to judge people of a certain culture based on the acts of their leaders.

“And it also opened my eyes to understanding different views, like before it was like we suffer and they attack us, and now I understand that their side also suffers and that they go through horrors just as we are,” he said.

Read Terry Karkos’ story at the Lewiston Sun Journal â€șâ€ș

Stay calm. Be kind. Dream big.
10 tips for grads from Seeds

The path to success is rarely a straight line, and the journey, as well as the destination, often looks vastly different than we thought it would when we first started mapping it out.

This spring, Seeds from the New York City area had a chance to hear from a few young alumni about their Seeds of Peace experience and how it has, and continues to, influence them in their professional lives.

The alumni included Alexa (2012 American Seed), a reporter at NBC; Billy (2002 American Seed), manager of creative development at Pearl Studio; Caroline (2011 American Seed), chief of constituent affairs for the City of Hoboken, New Jersey; and Sarika (2005 American Seed), who defends immigrant rights as a lawyer at the public defender’s office in Brooklyn.

Whether you’re heading to college, beginning your career, or contemplating the next chapter of your life, here are 10 lessons our alumni learned that helped them, and might help you, thrive in the working world.

1. Trust your instincts

Sometimes all it takes is one blow to make us question everything we’ve been working toward, but it’s often important to take rejection with a grain of salt. Alexa was crushed after a well-respected leader, whom she had asked to be an advisor on her college thesis, dismissed her ideas and refused to be associated with the project. But after speaking to other trusted advisors who helped her realize that the rejection probably had very little to do with her, she continued to pursue her thesis despite the notable naysayer. “There will be people who will not see the value in what you do. There may even be people really high up in positions of power who tell you you’re an idiot, but don’t let that dissuade you. In the end, I did receive an A, but more importantly, I learned to trust my gut.”

2. Your goals may change, but hold onto your dreams

When Sarika graduated college, she had two degrees: one in politics, and one in theater. “I wanted to be a human-rights actress, my dad joked that I was going to be unemployed,” Sarika said with a laugh. “When you graduate you have all these ideas, and that’s not wrong. Hold on to them because they will inform what you ultimately decide to do in the long run. It may take a while to get where you’re going, but every step of the way is going to have meaning when you look back on it.”

3. Your dream job might not be the one you’re pining to have—yet

Caroline spent most of her college years with her sights set on working for the Department of Housing and Urban Development. After graduation, she applied for job after job with HUD, until finally meeting someone who worked in the organization. “She basically told me that for what I wanted to do, HUD was not the answer, and suggested that I work for a senator,” Caroline said. “I had a misunderstanding not about what I wanted, but what I thought could facilitate what I wanted. It was the best counsel I could have gotten.”

4. Your career path may take a lot of twists and turns

Sarika applied to Teach for America after graduation, but when she received an offer, she panicked and turned it down. For the first time, she stepped off the path that she thought she was meant to follow, and instead worked at her university for a year. “It was completely unrelated to anything that I do now, but I made so many friendships and connections that I still draw from today, and it’s all come full circle. So even if it feels like it’s all headed for disaster, just stay calm. In the future it’s going to make sense ”

5. What you do and say today will matter tomorrow

It’s not wrong to have strong opinions or to disagree, but it’s important to present them in a way that you would want to be remembered for 10 years down the road. “It’s a small world and you’re going to meet people and engage with them now in ways you never thought you would. And you’re going to run into those people years later in places you never thought you would,” Caroline said.

6. Pay forward your empathy

Like going through any life-changing experience, many of our Seeds said they initially found it difficult to identify with people back home who hadn’t shared the same transformational experience. It takes some work, but this is an opportunity to practice your new-found skills. “It really helps to offer that same openness, respect, and empathy that you gave to your fellow campers to the people who haven’t had the opportunity to go through what you did,” Alexa said.

7. Invest in your relationships

Despite all the ways we have to stay connected, it’s can be incredibly difficult to maintain, and to begin, relationships with people in our lives. Building relationships like the ones Seeds build over three weeks at Camp can take years in the real world, but it’s worth the effort to try, bit by bit. “It’s a struggle because there are so many distractions today, but sometimes it’s just finding little moments where neither of you have your phones, and you’re working out, going to get coffee,” Alexa said. “It’s expressing openness, finding things you have in common and putting out your own vulnerabilities so that they feel safe to do the same.”

“Having patience is key,” Sarika added, “and being available to people—even in shallow ways—and being reliable will slowly gain their trust and ultimately break down that barrier.”

8. Success may take longer than you think—be patient with yourself

Some of the best advice Alexa received was to think of her career like rock climbing: While individual steps might not feel like much progress, each one is getting you closer to the top. The point, Billy added, is to keep going. “There won’t ever be an end to the things you should be doing or could be doing, and the thing that that most often causes us to back down is our own selves. You will at some point (or points) hit a wall, but don’t stop. It’s ok to try something new, see how it goes, and if you like it, keep going. If not, try something else. Know that this is a path that you’ll be on for the rest of your life, so be patient and kind to yourself.”

9. Turn frustration into fuel

“I remember coming back from Camp still really inspired by the people I met and conversations I had, and feeling the need to do something and see change in the world,” Billy said. “But the world is a complicated place, and I felt deflated that I couldn’t do more right away. Fifteen years after my Camp experience, some issues are better, some are not. You can’t let this frustrate you. Instead of feeling bad because things around you aren’t moving at the pace you want, try to look at it as fuel for what you’re going to do next, and why you’re going to remain engaged. It’s a lifelong thing.”

10. If you’re looking to change the world, start with kindness

When we think about making a difference or creating change, we often think big-picture: Ending poverty; saving the environment; transforming societies. We need to keep thinking about those things, but in the meantime, don’t overlook the power of simple acts of humanity.

For example, one of the younger Seeds, who is Jewish, said a fellow camper who was Muslim reached out to her after the shooting at a synagogue in Pittsburgh, and they continued to support one another when a mosque in New Zealand was attacked. The two girls hadn’t been very close before, but they just wanted to show kindness however they could, even if only a through a WhatsApp message.

“There’s something so profound about that, and people forget that kindness is just profound,” Sarika said to the Seed. “Patience and willingness to be understanding just doesn’t happen when people are busy and tired and focused on work. But taking time to reach out to someone who you may not speak to every day, that kind of is changing the world.”

A Crop of Leaders?
The Jerusalem Report

The Seeds of Peace are maturing into young adults. It’s not summer camp any more.

BY ISABEL KERSHNER | WHEN AARON D. MILLER left the State Department a year and a half ago, after advising six consecutive secretaries of state on the Arab-Israeli peace process, he did so with a sense that in the Israeli-Palestinian case American diplomacy simply hadn’t worked, and wasn’t about to either.

“This is a generational conflict,” says Miller, who was at State for 25 years, speaking to The Report during a recent visit to Israel, “and it won’t be resolved anytime soon. I left the State Department because I realized that this is a conflict that has played out over time, and will only be resolved in phases over time.”

Since then, as president of the Seeds of Peace organization, Miller has concerned himself with the next generation—one he hopes will produce a crop of leaders on both sides who can break the mold and forge a right environment for peace.

“Seeds of Peace is not a grassroots organization,” Miller goes on. “We’ll never have thousands of people forming a mass movement with public constituencies. Rather it’s about creating and empowering new leadership.”

Miller was there when the first “seeds,” as the participants call themselves, stood in the crowd on the White House lawn in 1993 while President Clinton, late Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin and PLO chief Yasser Arafat shook hands and signed the Oslo Accords. It was a time of great optimism, and through the mid-90s the program—dedicated to regional coexistence, conflict management and resolution—grew.

Its centerpiece, the international summer camp in Maine, has expanded from that 1993 group of 47 male Israeli, Palestinian, Egyptian and American teenagers, picked as delegates by their respective governments, and a similar mix of girls only in 1994, to close to 500 15-year-olds from over a dozen nations in three co-ed sessions.

The seeds from those early years have also grown. The Israelis became soldiers and then students; the Arab youths went on to university. Many have remained in touch with the organization, returning to summer camp as staffers or reconnecting after a break. And as they start to emerge from military service and years in the ivory towers, they are facing new challenges—fulfilling the leadership potential for which they were selected by their governments in the first place; defining how to move forward, together, as Seeds alumni; and maintaining faith and cross-border friendships in a time not of peace, but war.

Remarkably, given the regional tensions and the trend, particularly in Arab society, against dialogue and “normalization” of ties with Israelis, the organization is getting almost too big to contain itself.

“I have to raise $7 million this year,” says Miller, “and it’s never enough.”

Founded by John Wallach, an American author and journalist who died in 2002, Seeds of Peace has widened in scope over the years to take in youths from other conflict areas including the Balkans, Cyprus, India, Pakistan and Afghanistan. This year, Miller is launching a new Beyond Borders project, bringing in youths from countries outside the immediate sphere of the Middle East conflict like Saudi Arabia, Kuwait and Iraq together with Americans for a Muslim-Jewish-Christian dialogue.

The main focus remains the Arab-Israel conflict, with new efforts going into programming for the over-18s and over-20s who remain actively involved. Last year the Seeds of Peace Center for Coexistence, in the French Hill neighborhood on the seam of east and west Jerusalem, ran a 90-hour mediation and negotiation course for seeds over 20.

Next, a “Difficult Conversation” course is in the works, to train participants for intensive dialogue and handling debate in groups with diverse opinions. And dozens of Israeli, Palestinian, Egyptian and Jordanian graduates, or “mature seeds” as they are known within the organization, recently returned from a closed workshop abroad where they met “to talk about all that’s happened, all that’s come between them like the army, the intifada, and how to go forward as adults,” in the words of one Seeds staffer.

Shira Kaplan, 21, an Israeli from Herzliyah and a graduate of the Seeds Class of ’97, finished her compulsory military service three months ago and has come back to work at the Jerusalem center before leaving to take up a scholarship to Harvard in the fall to study liberal arts.

“We still maintain friendships that are now seven years old,” she says, stressing that she is only speaking for herself, and not on behalf of her Israeli or other peers; Seeds is proud of encompassing diversities of opinion across the political spectrums on all sides. “It is harder for younger seeds to form these friendships because of the political situation now, but we have come to realize that our friendships can serve as a network. In the long run,” she goes on, in what must be music to Miller’s ears, “maybe we can create an environment for peace on the basis of our education, our medicine, our business and all the different fields we’re getting involved in, as well as politics.”

In March, Kaplan and a Palestinian peer, Fadi al-Salamin from Hebron who is now studying in the United States, joined Miller on a fundraising tour in California.

Having Miller as the organization’s president has “put Seeds of Peace in a very serious context,” says Kaplan, in that “he sees a future in this, more than the State Department. After the failure of the peace process, he presents us as the alternative, whereas we used to be presented as a nice summer camp.”

NOT SURPRISINGLY, THE ISSUE of the Israeli seeds’ military service is a controversial and sensitive one. For one thing, says Sami al-Jundi, a Palestinian supervisor at the Jerusalem Center, “one side is going into the army while their friends on the other side are going off to enjoy themselves at university.”

Then there’s the pressure put on Palestinian and Arab seeds from people around them who don’t agree with normalizing ties with Israelis, and who use the fact that their “friends” are going into the army—the strong arm of an often brutal, humiliating occupation in Palestinian eyes—as a wedge to prize them away from the organization.

Jundi also points to the pressures the Israeli seeds face from their peers at school who accuse them of cosying up to “terrorists.”

Kaplan acknowledges the “seeds’ dilemma of soldierhood” that she and her peers all faced. No male graduates of the program have refused to do their compulsory army service for political reasons, though some of the females have. Rather, as outstanding youths with leadership qualities to start with, many of the Israeli seeds have gone into officers’ courses and elite units.

Kaplan and Jundi both say that the Palestinian seeds have come to accept that doing compulsory army service is the duty of the young Israelis.

“In my interpretation,” says Kaplan, “they don’t understand those who choose to be combat soldiers or to stay in the army beyond conscription. We have one seed who’s been in the army for six years now.”

But in many cases, the experience the seeds bring with them affects how they serve. Ned Lazarus, the outgoing program director who has worked for Seeds of Peace for eight years and is now going on to doctoral studies, assumes that a seed manning a checkpoint would treat the Palestinian civilians with more respect than other soldiers.

Lazarus has some background on the subject, having spent many hours at checkpoints and calling army contacts trying to facilitate the movement of West Bank and Gaza seeds to events in Jerusalem and elsewhere, held up even when they hold valid permits.

Lazarus relates a case of a seed serving in a liaison unit at the Jordanian border, who used his Seeds of Peace skills to put warmth into a previously cold, formal relationship with Jordanian officers on the other side.

Seeds of Peace reached a low point at the beginning of the intifada, after one of its Israeli Arab stars, Asel Asleh, was killed by Israeli security forces during a demonstration in his Galilee home town of Arrabeh. No Palestinian delegates came to the summer camp of 2001, since the Palestinian Authority refused to select any. The program has since recovered.

The PA is still not officially involved, but prominent Palestinian moderate and Al-Quds University president Sari Nusseibeh helped put together a delegation one summer and now, Palestinian parents from Jenin to Rafah are calling in by themselves, pleading to get their children registered for camp.

Miller puts the popular demand down to the fact that Seeds of Peace offers the children three and a half weeks away from the madness in a healthy, safe atmosphere. Also, through its education program and contacts, Seeds of Peace can help pave the way into American universities, affording good access to prestigious campuses around the United States.

During his recent visit to Israel, Miller also went to Ramallah and sat with PA officials he has come to know so well. Senior figures like Prime Minister Ahmed Qurei (Abu Ala) and Gaza strongman Muhammad Dahlan give their blessing to the Seeds program as well as their protection, while Yasser Arafat is still seen wearing a Seeds pin given to him in 1993.

Miller came to Israel to deliver the annual Jimmy Carter lecture at Tel Aviv University’s Dayan Center for Middle Eastern and African studies. It was entitled “The Pursuit of Arab-Israeli Peace 1993-2000: Where Did the U.S. Go Wrong?” and in it, Miller gave an honest appraisal of his and his colleagues’ part in the ultimate failure of Oslo and Camp David, as those that “enabled” Ehud Barak’s high-risk, go-for-broke strategy.

“Boldness,” he said, “should be weighed against chances of success.” And in his view, the chances of reaching an agreement at Camp David in July 2000 were, for a variety of reasons, “remote.” Among other things, he pointed to the asymmetry of power between the Israelis and Palestinians preceding the summit, and to the fact that Washington had been “far too forgiving” of the Palestinians on incitement and terror, and of the Israelis in terms of the settlement building enterprise. There was also much time wasted on the doomed Israeli-Syrian track, a lack of preparation for the summit and “no Plan B” if it didn’t work. It all made for a “perfect storm brewing of misjudgment, misconception and mistake,” in Miller’s words.

With what he calls the “transactional” give-and-take side of the peace process disabled for now, Miller is concentrating, through Seeds of Peace, on the other—”transformational”—side of peace-making. Soon, within the next five to ten years, staffers hope, it will be possible to tell if the Seeds program has indeed succeeded in producing a generation of new leaders in the Israeli, Palestinian and wider Arab arena, whether within their own communities, or in the wider political sphere. So far, with so many summer camp graduates wanting to remain a part of the network into adulthood, the Seeds staff is most encouraged by what it is seeing.

“Personally, it’s about who they are as human beings,” says vice president and camp director Tim Wilson, who has known the seeds since the program’s inception. “I couldn’t be more proud of them as people. They are questioning themselves, and what’s going on in their conflict.”

Adds Sami al-Jundi: “I’m optimistic. On the Israeli side, the majority of leaders have come from the army, so it’s good the seeds are serving. And on the Palestinian side, the majority came out of the universities, including Arafat himself, who started out as a student leader in Cairo.”

As for Kaplan, a confident, articulate young woman with big ideas, she envisions a future with seeds alumni going all the way to the top. “The seeds who want to go into politics want to see a party emerging from among the alumni,” she says. “People are talking the same way on the Palestinian side, and even a Jordanian is saying the same thing.”

She imagines a time when the newly-elected Israeli and Palestinian leadership will “no longer comprise of bloody warriors who risk going out of business if they cease war. Instead, they will be friends and peers from Seeds of Peace who have shared the vision of peace together, and who really wish to put an end to the conflict.”

If that dream were ever to become reality, it would constitute nothing less than genetically-modified generational transformation. That’s quite a Plan B.

We lost our childhood. We lost our homes and families. The only thing we have left is hope
Parade

BY LYNN MINTON | A unique event took place last year, when the Elie Wiesel Foundation for Humanity brought to Venice, Italy, teenage leaders from strife-torn areas of the world and the U.S. to meet with each other and world leaders. It was hoped that by sharing their experiences, feelings and ideas, the future generation of leaders would have a better chance to understand each other and to reduce conflict in the world.

What follows came from several conversations that took place during the course of a week.

Where is my Family

Whether they came from the former Yugoslavia or the Middle East, Northern Ireland or Africa, these young people had similar experiences to share: Living in fear of what may happen to them, losing family and friends, having their world disrupted. Many spoke of the pain and suffering in their lives.

“The Serbs occupied our town when I was 16,” said Goran Mesarek, 19, a Croatian. “They arrest me and put me in a camp. When I come out, I find out my parents and little sister are gone. I ask some Serbian friends, ‘Where is my family?’ But they say they don’t know. But no one will tell me. Some people say they are dead. Some say they are in some camp in Serbia. A couple of my good friends and their families have also just disappeared.

“I want to know, are my parents alive or no? It’s driving me crazy. I was pretty desperate for a while—you think about suicide.”

“There was a period when it seemed as if every day a soldier was stabbed or a bomb went off,” said Meital Cohen, 15, of Jerusalem. “It was so terrible, every day, to turn on the television. You knew that something bad had happened, and you just waited to hear it.”

“Until 1991, I didn’t know what nationality I am,” said Jelena Postic, 18, who lived in Croatia. “Then, one day in school, they asked me. I didn’t know, so they called and asked my mother. She said, ‘Serb.’ Later one, these men came to our apartment. Croatian soldiers. They took all our belongings. Everything. Even my pictures I had since I was 3. What did they want with my pictures? After that, we moved to Poland.”

“The soldiers came to my house when I was sleeping and made me feel afraid,” said Ruba Musleh, 16, a Palestinian from Jericho. “I want to help everybody not to feel like I felt, because it was very bad.”

“I had a friend who was with me in school from first grade to seventh grade,” said Haris Hadzic, 16, a Bosnian displaced to Croatia. “Then, suddenly, he left us. Just disappeared. Then we see on television, his father on an armored tank, shouting and laughing. That broke our hearts. All we knew then is that my friend is in Belgrade, and his father is in Bosnia in the Serbs’ army.”

The Cycle of Anger

These young people also spoke of the cycle of aggression and revenge, blame and recrimination—going on for years, decades or even longer—that fueled these deadly conflicts and sometimes seemed impossible to stop. “In Israel, for many years we tried to do to the Palestinians what they did to us,” said Yehoyada (“Yoyo”) Mande’el, 16. “If they made a terror attack, we went inside Gaza, we went inside the territories. We took people, and we put them in jail. We still do. We went inside their houses and harassed them. I really believe that we did it as a must. It was a security risk.

“The Palestinians see it differently. It doesn’t matter how I see it. They see it differently. Because of the revenge they saw we did to them, they revenged more. There was another terror attack. It was like ping-pong, and every time 20 people died or were captured.”

“Four years of our lives have been destroyed,” said Goran Mesarek. “We feel desperate. We want to be safe. I’m not an animal to hate someone. But I can’t live with the people who killed my parents. I can’t live with them anymore.”

“My granddad and my dad’s oldest brother were killed by the white man,” said Kim Muhota, 20, of Kenya. “And my dad’s second brother was put in prison for life. This kind of story happened to many families. If you told someone like that, ‘Let’s forgive the white man for what he did, let’s leave that in the past,’ that wouldn’t really be practical. Because there’s a lot of anger there.”

“You cannot say that we don’t know who bombed Bosnia-Herzegovina first,” said Tarja Krahic, 19, who was born in Bosnia-Herzegovina but displaced to Croatia. “In my city we were living peacefully. My dad is Muslim. My mom is Croatian. My best friend was a Serbian girl. Suddenly, one morning, my city was occupied.”

All Sides Are Victims

Still, many of these young people realized that peace will only be possible if notions of revenge are put aside.

“In a conflict situation, everybody must bear some responsibility,” said Keith Jacques, 20, of Belfast, Northern Ireland.

“From my experience—and I’m active for peace in Israel—it’s not so important, the past,” said Yoyo Mande’el. “If I was there before or the Palestinians were there before—right now, for me, it doesn’t matter. Because my family and friends are hurt, and I knew people who were killed in wars of terror attacks. And if we argue about who was in Israel before, it won’t solve the problem. We have to say, ‘What is going on right now? We should try to compromise. We should try to speak with each other, to see each other as a person. Maybe we can work for a better future.’”

“We all suffer,” said Laith Arafeh, 16, a Palestinian from East Jerusalem. “And we all are very eager to find a solution to our suffering, because we can’t take it anymore.”

“All sides are involved in the war,” noted Aleksandra Cvijanovic, 17, a Serb, “and all sides are victims, mostly the children.”

“Most of us have been hurt, one way or another,” said Omar Hassan, 15, of Cairo. “And I think the only way we can accomplish peace in the Middle East is if Israel helps the Arabs solve their hurt, and the Arabs help Israel solve their hurt. But if each country keeps making accusations, that only makes the wounds that much bigger.”

For the American teenagers, these conflicts were at times difficult to understand.

“The thing I find discouraging is that, with each of these conflicts, it’s almost like people have to die,” commented Daryl Bernstein, 19, of Scottsdale, Ariz. “And then, after a period of time, everybody gets tired of the fighting and dying, and they eventually come together and make peace. And it’s almost like these lives were lost for no reason at all. If only the people had just sat down in the beginning and said, ‘Let’s imagine what it would be like to have our friends and our families die, and let’s make peace now.’”

“Regardless of who started a war, people are dying,” said Ron Fox, 20, of San Francisco. “Forget about how it started and why it started and solve it.”

“But how do you eliminate the anger and bitterness?” asked Anil Soni, 19, of Northbrook, Ill.

Sowing Seeds of Peace
The Harvard Gazette

Peace Program brings Arab and Israeli students together for two weeks

BY JOHN CHASE | In the waning weeks of August before the fall semester began, more than 150 Arab and Israeli teenagers from the Middle East gathered for an orientation session at Harvard before heading off to Maine for two weeks of summer camp.

This was no ordinary summer camp, however, but intensive, innovative program called Seeds of Peace, which brings together students aged 13-15—many of whom have been brought up to hate each other—in a safe environment where they live, play, eat, and learn together.

They come from Israel, Palestine, Egypt, Jordan, Turkey, Morocco, and Qatar, with a common goal of breaking through the fear, mistrust, and inherited prejudices that shape their image of the “enemy.”

Founded in 1993 by author and journalist John Wallach, Seeds of Peace works to secure a lasting end to war in the Middle East by nurturing friendships and developing empathy, respect, and hope among its disparate participants.

It is daunting work to break the cycle of violence that has gripped generations and often claimed friends and family as victims, but the experiences of sharing cabins, meals, games, and deeply held feelings encourage the youths to bond and become the seeds from which an enduring peace can now grow.

The program is coordinated by the Kennedy School’s Institute of Social and Economic Policy in the Middle East.

Virtually Together
Peace Watch (USIP)

E-mail and the Internet are keeping the hope for peace alive among Israeli and Arab teenagers who became friends through Seeds of Peace, says Institute senior fellow John Wallach

When a suicide bomb was detonated this fall in a Jerusalem shopping mall frequented by teenagers after school, a group of Arab and Israeli teenagers reached out to console each other via the Internet. A Jordanian youth wrote that at first the bombing seemed to threaten the friendships he had made with Israelis his age this past summer at the Seeds of Peace summer camp program in Maine. “I thought that all we did in the camp was gone with the wind,” he wrote. But then an Israeli camper e-mailed him that he knew terrorists were responsible for the tragedy and had urged his Israeli friends “not to blame the whole Palestinian people.”

“The Jordanian youth was reassured. He felt he could trust his new Israeli friend,” says John Wallach, a senior fellow at the U.S. Institute of Peace and founder of the Seeds of Peace program, which brings together Arab and Israeli teenagers to help break the generational cycles of violence that sustain the conflict in the Middle East. “The common theme among the Arab and Israeli campers was that neither community would permit a desperate act of terror to destroy the friendships they had built at Seeds of Peace.”

Dozens of Israeli and Arab youths are determinedly maintaining friendships through e-mail discussions and an online “chat room” that was recently established by an Israeli girl who attended the camp last summer, Wallach says. After several weeks of bonding in the Maine woods, the youths returned to their homes in Egypt, Israel, Jordan, Morocco, Tunisia, and the West Bank and Gaza Strip, with a strong desire to keep the friends they made while playing sports and games, and participating in organized discussions about the Middle East conflict.

“God bless the computer, e-mail, and the Internet ‘chat session,’” says Wallach. “Without them, hundreds of Seeds of Peace youngsters would have no way to maintain the friendships they worked so hard to forge during their five weeks in the United States.” The campers send messages to each other every day, “some filled with pain and anger, others with compassion, reassurance, and encouragement,” says Wallach, award-winning foreign editor for the Hearst newspapers in 1968-94 and co-author of several books on the Middle East. For his work at Seeds of Peace, he received the UNESCO Peace Prize in 1996 and the Legion of Honor of the Hashemite Kingdom of Jordan from King Hussein in 1997.

While at the Institute, Wallach will be writing a report on the methodology Seeds of Peace has developed to help young people develop the listening skills and empathic abilities that have helped them move from prejudice, misunderstanding, and hatred to understanding and trust. The goal is to share these methods with other organizations doing similar work around the world, he says.

In the last five years, almost 800 Arab and Israeli teenagers have participated in the Seeds of Peace experience. Many of the campers are chosen by their governments, but they come from a broad range of backgrounds, including prominent and refugee families. In daily 90-minute conflict resolution sessions, they learn how to disagree yet remain friends—in short, how to coexist, Wallach says. But when they return home, they confront the same physical barriers they left, closures that prohibit movement not only between Israel and the Palestinian territories but between neighboring Palestinian villages. “Armed troops and police—not to mention fearful parents—are a strong disincentive to venture across these geographic and psychic borders,” Wallach says.

Returning Home from Camp

Thus, the return home poses real challenges for the campers, says Wallach. “After a summer of sharing everything from shaving cream and showers to sports and sing-alongs, ‘reentry’ into hostile societies often is as sobering for them as it must be for astronauts returning from orbit. The life support system is gone. Caring counselors and trained facilitators are nowhere in sight. No longer are they in a ‘safe place.’”

The Seeds of Peace summer camp stretches along Maine’s Pleasant Lake, which takes its name from its remote and tranquil setting. The Palestinian and Israeli youths sharing canoes on the lake live less than a mile apart at home, but in the tormented Middle East those few hundred yards can be an insurmountable distance, Wallach notes. Indeed, their homes can be harsh and dangerous places where buses get blown up and stone-throwing melees often turn into violent bloodbaths.

“And even more intimidating than the physical dangers of going home are the emotional ones, the personal trauma of returning to places where your new friends are still regarded as enemies,” Wallach says. A Jordanian teenager wrote on the Internet that when he and other Jordanian campers got home, “I faced reality. We were rejected everywhere, we were traitors.” A Palestinian wrote than when she returned her refugee camp friends simply couldn’t believe she had bunked with and shared her meals with Israelis “and they didn’t shoot you.” An Israeli complained that his peers blamed the most recent terrorist bombing on “your new friends,” as if he were somehow complicit because he had forged friendships with the people he was supposed to hate.

Online Chat Room

The Israeli girl who organized the chat room wrote that “connecting 
 for the first time was a great honor. People from all over the Middle East 
 showed up [on the Internet] 
 [Everyone was] delighted and anxious to hear what the others had to say 
 Getting into one another’s sayings, experiences, etc. lasted two hours!” The chat room, which has become a weekly event, brings together online campers, counselors, and leaders from Jordan, Egypt, Israel, the Palestinian Authority, and the United States.

The e-mail communication also continues, Wallach says. “Messages are sent daily. Many revolve around the normal, everyday things that kids have to deal with: struggle with schoolwork, feuds with friends and family, romantic flings and inevitable disappointments. But all are full of hope and convey a genuine caring about the Seeds of Peace community.”

Not everyone is yet connected to the World Wide Web. But, notes Wallach, the manifesto of Seeds of Peace is clear in the words of one Jordanian youth, who wrote, “People! We have to communicate, we have to know each other even better, we have to do what our leaders are not doing—and will not do if we don’t push them 
 All of us are so very lucky to be a part of the Seeds of Peace family; please continue fighting for what you believe in.”

Senator Mitchell lauds peace camp at Falmouth fundraiser
The Forecaster (Maine)

BY HARRIET B. SCHULTZ | FALMOUTH “I can’t think of anyone who makes us prouder to be Mainers. He’s a man of decency, integrity and patience,” said Merle Nelson last week from the porch of her waterfront Falmouth Foreside home as she introduced former Senate Majority Leader George Mitchell to a group of 200 people.

They came to hear Mitchell talk about a six-year-old camp in Otisfield that is appropriately called Seeds of Peace. Nelson invited them to her home in hopes that some of them might make financial contributions to the camp.

Mitchell, who has devoted much of his post-Senate years to peace efforts, recalled asking a mayor in a war-torn Bosnian town in 1992 when he thought the opposing factions that had destroyed the town would live there together peacefully.

“We will repair our structures long before we rebuild our souls,” the mayor told him.

“I learned the truth of that statement in Northern Ireland,” said Mitchell, who was instrumental in negotiating what has now become a tenuous peace among Ireland’s Protestants and Catholics.

“What’s more important is what’s in the hearts and minds of the people. We must look to the young people for a real and durable peace,” he said.

Gathered in green T-shirts behind Mitchell on the balmy summer afternoon were Israeli and Arab teenagers, along with Turks and Greeks from the divided island nation of Cyprus.

They had come to Maine for three weeks to “send a message that the next generation wants the violence to stop,” said Seeds of Peace founder John Wallach, a former White House correspondent, and foreign editor for the Hearst newspapers.

Three hundred youngsters, along with an adult delegation, are at the camp during two sessions this summer, learning about each other and forming deep bonds of friendship that they will take back with them to their native lands.

More than 1,000 teens from the Middle East, Bosnia, Cyprus and American inner cities have worked on resolving their conflicts at the camp.

Bushra Jawabri, 17, a Palestinian, and Shira Kaplan, 15, an Israeli, confidently and in fluent English, spoke to the crowd, their arms around each other’s shoulders. The two dark-haired girls, now friends, would have had little to do with each other before coming to Maine.

“I came filled with fear,” said Bushra. “But I feel safe here and can say my ideas freely.”

“This utopia is the reality that we can make,” said Shira. A repeat camper, Shira told a story about asking her father to take her to Jordan last year to visit a friend from camp. The two rode a bus from Israel for seven hours, stayed with her friend for two days and then returned home, something that would have been unthinkable before camp.

“This is what real peace is for me,” she said.

Mitchell beamed as he listened to the teenagers.

“This camp is as important as anything being done by statesmen or politicians,” declared Mitchell, “because it creates hope.

“Without that understanding—that love—conflict is created.”

Wallach presented Mitchell with a Seeds of Peace necktie depicting three youngsters holding an olive branch. Wallach said that King Hussein of Jordan wears the tie as well.

“If it’s good enough for a king, it’s good enough for me,” quipped Mitchell.

Hussein and Queen Noor were honored for their support of the Seeds of Peace program at a dinner in New York last year at which Secretary of State Madeleine Albright said, “No one has a greater stake in the Middle East’s future than the young, and it is by the young that the choice between conflict and reconciliation will ultimately be made.”

In the three and a half years Mitchell spent in negotiations in Ireland, he learned “that there’s no such thing as a conflict that can’t be resolved,” although he admitted that “it’s easy to become discouraged.”

He found in Ireland, as in other parts of the world where there is long-standing animosity, “people come to accept conflict as an inevitable part of their lives.”

But by bringing together young people from opposing factions, who will grow up to be the future leaders of their countries, Mitchell continued, there is more of a chance for a lasting peace.

“I believe with my heart and soul that there will be a resolution of the conflict in the Middle East,” said Mitchell. “It is important to not despair and always, always to hope.”