Friday, July 16, 2010

The End of the First Session at Seeds of Peace

Every night, after we’ve turned out the lights, two of the Muslim kids in my bunk take out their mats, place them near the foot of my bed and do their nighttime prayers in silence.

This is one of the things I’ve appreciated the most about this camp: the diversity of people and the diversity of experiences. The cultural and religious differences. The music that I would never normally listen to. The excessive (or maybe appropriate?) amount of dancing. The incredible discussions these kids get into. It’s been an unbelievably rewarding experience.

These guys got here and it was very apparent that they were mistrustful of each other. They were very guarded around people of other delegations or of “the other side.” It’s funny how it was the small things that finally helped them get comfortable with each other: talking about girls late into the night, pulling pranks on each other, being able to complain about the same things together, and dancing.

The events here often break out into large dance parties. When the delegations arrived, all of the campers got off the bus to all the counselors playing music and dancing and they all jumped in and for the first 20 minutes after they arrived we all danced. We also hosted an international night where all the delegations prepared food from their own country, and all the campers were allowed to wear clothes from their ethnic region, and the night culminated in another giant dance party. We'd hold concerts for them, and they performed in talent shows, and somewhere, somehow, dancing was always involved.

One of my campers, a Palestinian, was very proud of the Debka – a traditional Palestinian dance. He would often talk about teaching me how to do it (which we never actually got around to), but he performed it at the talent show with many of the other Palestinian campers. The Indian delegation performed an incredible Bollywood dance (which apparently they had been practicing for for 2 months.) The Afghanis and Pakistanis performed traditional dances from their own countries. Two Israeli girls and a Palestinian girl performed an incredible ballet piece to Imogen Heap’s Hide and Seek. These kids were unbelievably talented!

The entire camp culminated in three days of intense competition called Color Games. All the campers were divided into two teams – either green or blue, and for those three days they competed in everything from athletics to cake decorating and everything in between. Once the competitions were over and the winning team was declared, all the campers ran into the lake fully clothed in a very emotional celebration. Everyone was hugging anyone they knew; people were laughing and crying. It was a giant wet love-fest.

A Quaker service was held in the Big Hall the day before the campers left. These services are generally characterized by sitting in silence, and individuals speaking when the feel led to say something to the group. As we all sat quietly, campers slowly began to speak up and talk about their experiences: their growth during camp, the relationships they’d built, their hopes and fear about going home.

On Tuesday we said goodbye to our campers. After having the responsibility of looking out for these kids for three weeks, it was difficult to say goodbye knowing what we were sending them back to. And while I love the vision of Seeds, and I feel that it is incredibly important, I also recognize the burden that we are placing on these kids. We give them three weeks of paradise, where there is no conflict and where there is no enemy, and then we send them back to their home communities where no one will understand their experiences or their perspectives. We are, in sum, isolating these individuals. This is all done with the hope that these experiences will also empower them to pursue change and lead their communities into reconciliation, but it doesn’t dismiss the fact that while we might be freeing them in one sense, we are burdening them in another. And life for them will probably be more difficult when they return home than when they left.

Thursday, June 24, 2010

First Week at Seeds of Peace

I’ve finished my first week at Seeds of Peace, and it feels as if time has slowed. I have been so overwhelmed with new experiences, ideas, and people that I feel I have learned more in this past week than this entire past semester.

I have been incredibly impressed and humbled by the caliber of staff and counselors that are here. We have counselors from Afghanastan, Iran, Israel, Palestine; counselors who have been working in Bombay, India and Madrid, Spain; counselors who speak over five languages. To be honest, I’ve found myself somewhat muted since I’ve been here (which is typical as I get comfortable in new situations) but specifically here as a wrestle with whether anything I have to say is significant around such intelligent and experienced people.

In respect to the diversity represented here (just among the counselors), it is the complete opposite of Gordon. Which isn’t to say that I’m targeting Gordon in any way – I love it; Gordon is simply very homogenous. Everyone comes from similar backgrounds, upbringings, beliefs, and ultimately share a similar conception of the world. My experience here at SOP is very similar to the one in which I was raised, surrounded by a plentitude of worldviews and opinions, and the unifying aspect of the community is not its similarity but diversity. It’s been a community I’ve been out of for so long, I’m still trying to figure out what my role is here.

I was very reassured today as other counselors voiced many of the questions that I’ve also been processing. In a mock dialogue session (similar to the ones that the campers participate in, where they discuss the conflict) we counselors discussed our views. The central theme that came up in our dialogue group was about having a stake in the issue. As a person who is not from the region, I have nothing at stake when I formulate opinions of who’s “right” or “wrong,” or who’s entitled to what. The question basically comes down to, who am I to tell someone they’re wrong when I risk nothing with my opinions, yet for them it is their entire life and identity.

We had two speakers provide two narratives for the conflict: the Palestinian narrative and the Israeli narrative. These narratives have the capacity of completely defining the communities that hold them, and subsequently defining the individuals in these communities. These individuals are born into these narratives at no choice of their own, and they typically view their side as the “neutral” or objective side. Yet I (or anyone outside the conflict) have the weighty and daunting opportunity to actually choose between the narratives.

So what is my role in this conflict? What is my right? Do I even have a right or legitimacy to make bold claims about things that do not affect me? I don’t know. Yet we seem to do it every day, about many different things. But in something as weighty as this, I don’t yet know my place. But I see humans and I see suffering. And I believe in the mission of Seeds of Peace, that if we simply provide a setting where these individuals on both sides can encounter the other and recognize the humanity of the other, perhaps they can find a solution. A solution is not mine to provide, but I hope to facilitate in providing a place where one can be found.

All that to say, I’m really looking forward to the campers arriving. It’s gonna be a ballin summer.

Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Growing Up

A series I did on growing up.

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People

Random pictures of people from random photo assignments this semester

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Line and Shape Assignment

So I'm in a digital photography class right now, and we recently had an assignment on line and shape. These were the final photos I took for it.

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3-geometric

5-line, biomorphic

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2-biomorphic

Monday, February 22, 2010

A Winter Storm - In and around Gordon and Manchester

Some photos that I took for my digital photography class.

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Saturday, December 5, 2009

Scotland

Sunrise from my window
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"The Dead Marshes"
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The view from our front door.
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Our Cottage
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Our cottage again
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... and our cottage again
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Our barge.
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The view from our front yard.
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The view from our front door.
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The city of Portree.
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