My day at work…
I am writing this personal testimony since I feel this personal story has been my glimmer of light in these dark days and I hope it will spark us all.

This is my first year working at the Jewish-Arab Center in Givat Haviva as a facilitator for the CTC (Children Teaching Children) program. Last year I was one of the 12 Jewish and Arab facilitators who went through a yearlong training program, as facilitators for Jewish-Arab dialogue groups. In this program at Givat Haviva I had a chance to learn and experience the Jewish Arab conflict at its core… I have experienced times of huge disparities and also meaningful bridges between the two sectors. However, I have never before been so devastated as now, since recent events have left me hopeless toward peace, which we are longing, praying and working so hard to achieve.

Being an adult these days is not an easy task, especially if you are an adult who works with children and teenagers on a daily basis, as I do. They look up to you and wait for reasonable explanations for the situation we are facing - looking and asking with their eyes, where is the “peace” you adults promised us? Where is the coexistence you are teaching us? Is it a dream that is gone? And so often I stand speechless facing them and these questions, and have no comforting encouraging answer.

Well, I am here to share with you an optimistic story, one that gave me hope that what I do for a living is really meaningful, and can cause change, and that we need to continue and do the sacred work we do at Givat Haviva - to continue to spread the word that there is a chance, a different way to look at things and live in this troubled region.

On Thursday morning I met with my friend, another facilitator in the CTC Program. We sat at a coffee shop (which is not a wise thing to do these days), and I was very nervous and confused about facilitating this morning. I wasn’t ready to face the questions and the frustration of 15-16-year-olds who are about to “stone” me with their fears and frustrations about the situation that has gotten worse since we met last time. (I have worked with this group since the beginning of the year, and there was a spring break for about a month. During this month the situation deteriorated and we are now in the midst of a war). We agreed that we have to let the students express themselves in any way they wish, and allow them to air their feelings. It was 10 AM and we had to get moving to school; we arrived before the class started, it was still recess, but I felt my heart start to beat stronger as we got ready for the bell to ring. The first person I saw was the teacher. I felt her eyes open wide when she saw me, as if she too was asking if I brought some “hope” with me in my pocket. The class divided into two groups and we went ahead to our rooms.

It was very quiet considering the age of the youth and the nice, sunny warm morning. I asked them if there was anything they would like to share with the rest of us since we last met. Here are some of the responses I received:

Neta whispered, “ Fear - I used to be a normal teenager watching soap operas and MTV; now I search the channels for news updates and current events. The things we see on T.V are so horrifying that I am afraid to leave my house and continue with my regular routine.”

Dafna, usually a quiet and shy girl, added in a loud voice “maybe there is justification for this military operation, there is the need to retaliate for all the suicide attacks and destroy the terror, but in the end it is obvious we will need to sit and talk with the same people. There is no other choice.”

Another conversation then ensued between a few students: “It’s good to die for our country” “Who said this? Are you ready to die for something you don’t believe in? For a government whose actions you don’t understand?” “I don’t want to die. I want to go to the army, I want to give my duty to this country, and I belong here. But, I don’t want to die for something I don’t believe is just.”

Rita, “I have a hope that after all this mess and chaos quiet will come.”

Dikla, “ We will lose in the end, we might and we will win this war, but after all the losses of life in the end it will eventually be solved by an agreement.”

Dollev, “Can’t you see people, we are losing our freedom. What is life worth without freedom of moving freely and enjoying life? Living with no freedom is like being dead.”

Silence took over the class and then Ruth mumbled, “So how do you expect the Palestinians to live with no basic freedom in their land…?”

With this I felt I had nothing to add and that the group is well prepared and ready to discuss, listen and reach reasonable conclusions on any topic they face. And then a few minutes before the bell rang, Yuval asked me: “Tell me, Sheli, aside from you wanting us to think a bit differently, do you have answers?” This question is still ringing in my head. What answers do I have these days? How can I give them hope when I don’t have much myself?

But sitting with this group of teenagers gives me strength in so many ways. Listening to them expressing their fears, anger and views I know we as adults have to work harder to make those voices heard and find some options and answers for those who look up to us, trust and depend on us.

Truly yours,
For those who want to hear the voice of sanity…
Sheli, CTC facilitator.

Footnote:
At today’s lesson I was able to see the aims we have put for ourselves at work. The way the students were critically thinking about the situation, being able to ask critical questions and feel empathy for the others also suffering at this painful time. My desire to do this work is based on the belief that the moment we are able to see the situation through humane eyes, seek other ways to solve the conflicts beside those shown to us in the media and by politicians, we become more influential citizens in our society and to our democracy.