Final Project

As our class has come to a close, I have put together a video for my final project about the Israel-Palestine conflict, Jerusalem, food, and my experience with these three topics. Enjoy!

Discussion Response: A Semester of Thoughts

As we reflected on the semester today in class, I enjoyed hearing the opinions of my fellow classmates on the topics we discussed, the speakers we videoconferenced with, and the pieces we read. As the second section of the class comes to an end with final project presentations beginning next week, it was nice to take the time to really consider what we have covered, and, for someone like me who came to this class with almost no previous knowledge of subject, learned.

Up until January, I had a very vague idea of Israel and the conflict, but did not realize the extent and depth of the issue. I had had several friends growing up that were either Israeli or had lived there for some time, and they were normal kids. I didn't think twice about it. It was a place with problems, but every place has problems. So what?

Now, I know what. I realize the conflict began not in 1967 or 1948, but that the land has been a place of contention for thousands of years. I realize the extent of the occupation and how it affects daily lives, but I also still remember that life goes on, as it always has.

In this spirit, I want to leave you with a video I found about Israeli and Palestinian views on Iran. For me, sums up what has been most important for me in this course and what I will take with me into my life: people are people. That is all.

Reading Response: FOOD

I love food. I really, really love food. I love reading about it, I love taking pictures of it, I love making it, I love sharing it, and I love eating it. I come from a family where food is everything: I've been helping aunts and uncles since I was five, I am well versed in the names of a wide variety of foods in several languages, and at reunions, the person you're looking for is always in the kitchen-- cooking, eating, or, most likely, both.

Israeli and Palestinian food, however, are not cuisines about which I was previously very well informed. I eat hummus practically everyday but that's about the limit of my knowledge, so I have been glued to the Jerusalem cookbook that Noura lent me over the weekend. Much of the food resonates with what I love best about any dish: fresh, simple ingredients with lots of fruits and vegetables. I have already spent many hours kneading, chopping, and simmering, and I am excited to share my final project in a few weeks.

As for this week's reading/watching assignments, much of the same rings true. Learning about food makes me happy (and itching to try it!), and the articles with their vibrant pictures inspired me all the more. One video link seems to have been taken down, but the one I did watch, "Beyond Falafel", frustrated me. While it did an excellent job celebrating the diversity of Jewish cuisine in Israel, discussion of the discrimination against both Mizrahi and Palestinians was entirely absent. To be fair, the video is about food, not racial stereotypes. Still, I felt as though it was inappropriate to mention these groups (although Palestinians were simply referred to as 'Arabs' without specifying) and give the impression that there is no tension with the Ashkenazic population. To use these conflicts as examples of the bridges that are being built from the love of food would have been a welcome addition.

Questions:
What food-- Israeli, Palestinian, or both-- would you like to try most?
Do you agree with me about the absence of mention about problems in Israel? What was your opinion of the video?

Discussion Response: Hearing What You Want To

Several weeks ago, the neutrality of new sources came up in class for the first time. We talked about how even the most benign media outlets operate under some agenda, but also how as individuals, we seek out that which we want to hear-- we look for information to confirm beliefs we already hold, and disregard opposing opinions as illegitimate. The agenda, then, is relative: if we as humans seek out biased sources already, it shouldn't much matter whether a source is "neutral". We will keep searching until we find one that is not.

I realize I am being a bit overdramatic, of course. Many people seek to find an opinion different or even opposite their own so they will be forced to reconsider what they assume is true. But when the idea of hearing what you want to came up again in class today, I found it particularly relevant to this week's theme: minority groups.

I, as an American, had always assumed that Israel was one, united, Zionist front of Jews. I had a vague idea that there were different levels of religiousness, but otherwise, it never occurred to me that there was any rift besides that between the Israeli community and the Palestinian one. Even when I learned more about the differences between Haredim and secular and Ashkenazim and Sephardim, to name a few groups, the internal conflict didn't really click-- because I didn't want to hear it.

It is so much easier to assume that the conflict between Israel and Palestine is the region's only issue. When we talked to Galit Hasan Rokem on Tuesday, I asked her whether or not she found some of the struggles in Israel-Palestine more important than others, with my gut reaction being that nothing usurped the bigger political disaster. I have been routinely horrified throughout the semester at the direct  effects of the occupation on the people involved-- so much so, I now realize, that I did not want to hear about anyone else's problems.

Regardless of my own opinions, ignoring people calling out for help will not do anyone any good. A solution will come only when everyone is listened to. The conflict in Israel-Palestine is now one of people who have grown up in this land. They are people who come from wildly different backgrounds and ideologies and schools of thought on the seemingly endless issues with racism, class warfare, religious discrimination, sexism-- but they all have one thing in common. They love their home. Selective hearing will not speed up the peace process because a peace without a people-- and these people have a multitude of concerns that must be considered-- is not a peace.

Reading Response: The Hierarchy of Importance

As I was perusing this week's reading assignments, something that has come up several times throughout the semester was brought to mind again. I consider myself an ardent feminist; to me, this means that all people should be treated as people, regardless of gender, race, socioeconomic factors... the list goes on. Obviously, then, I was excited about this week's topic. However, as I read on, I began to question: how does the number of women in the Knesset matter as conflict persists? With both Israelis and Palestinians tired of years of disagreement and warfare, how can anyone, Jewish, Muslim, or Christian, be concerned with any other matter?

This concept was extremely difficult for me to deal with: I put an extremely high importance on women's rights, but in the situation Israel-Palestine what I consider of the highest importance seemed to pale in comparison. While reading, I felt for the socio-economic and racial barrier between the poor and the rich, the Mizrahi and the Ashkenazi... but the separation barrier, the scarcity of building permits, and land grabs returned to mind. No one enjoys the conflict; everyone wants a solution to be found-- that much, at least, Israelis and Palestinians can agree on. But what about more minor issues? Class tensions among the Israelis? Gay rights throughout both populations? Is it even fair to call these essential topics of conversation "minor"? But at the same time, isn't it wrong to try to equate them to a conflict that has raged on ceaselessly for decades?

Now, I turn this internal ethics debate to you: is there any good way to address this moral dilemma? Is it possible to do so without offending anyone? Can there be a legitimate hierarchy of importance in something as touchy as the state of Israel-Palestine?

Journal: The Singing Revolution

When I was in the fourth grade, we were assigned to do a project about a significant musical era or event. As everyone else was vying over the 60's and the British Invasion, I decided to get off the beaten path and look for something new.

At the same time, my parents had recently befriended a woman named Aive, a native of Estonia. When she heard about my project, she immediately suggested the Singing Revolution, which had occurred in her country when it was a part of the Soviet Union. Estonia was the first state to secede from the USSR, and it did so with no bloodshed-- instead, the people simply sang.

When I read the prompt for this journal assignment, this old project came to mind, and I rechecked the facts to make sure I remembered it correctly. The revolution began at a festival, and for four years, hundreds of thousands of Estonians gathered to sing illegal national songs. In 1991, they declared their independence, and while the shift of power was not necessarily smooth (it never is), no one was ever hurt.

Both in the fourth grade and today, the power of song and music over something as massive as peaceful establishment of an independent state amazes me. While the conflict in Israel-Palestine is clearly different than that of Estonia and the Soviet Union, I think that everyone, from individuals to nation-states can learn something from the Estonian people. They recognized the immense emotional sway music exercises on people and used it to unite an entire country peacefully. To have not lost a single life in a revolution is profound in a way that needs to be recognized and respected. I look forward to the date I check the news and that has replaced violence as the headlines.

Reading Response: Delimiting Identity

The first piece I read for this week's reading was the excerpt from Parallels and Paradoxes: Explorations in Music and Society, and I was immediately drawn in. The first conversation begins with a discussion about what 'home' is and how it can be fluid. Daniel Barenboim says that he "feel[s] at home in the idea of Jerusalem". He then continues to talk about identity in relation to where one is at home. Edward Said describes this sense of identity as "a set of currents, flowing currents, rather than a fixed place or a stable set of objects".

I watched this theme of self-definition and different identities continue throughout the remainder of the readings. My favorite moment was in "A Dog's Life" in Sharon and my Mother-in-Law: Ramallah Diaries.  Unlike the other pieces, Nura the dog was the character who had multiple and unique identities. Unbeknownst to herself, Nura was among the most privileged residents of the West Bank: she had a Jerusalem passport. To me, she has a home in the same "idea" of Jerusalem that Barenboim feels at home in. She got passport, as a dog, to a place she had never been, while thousands of residents had been forcibly moved from or denied access to their home. It seems it is the latter that Barenboim has a conflict with, and the former that he calls home: a place Nura has never been and does not yet exist, but one that Barenboim hopes to find in his musical work and the West-Eastern Divan Orchestra.

Now I turn the question to you all: obviously, identity and a sense of home are inextricable parts of the Israel-Palestine conflict. But what are these things? Should they be treated as "fixed objects" or "flowing currents"? Can "home" be a place that does not exist? What does this mean for the way the peace process should continue?