Hope is a Thing with Feathers

And what comes after despair? And what comes after a week of courage and rage and heartbreak and singing and dancing and back to truth and fear and rage and courage and generosity and kindness and heartbreak and fear and truth telling and dancing and singing and games and spontaneous laughter and despair and shared lunches, and talking and learning and sleep, whatever sleep we can get, and the need to be in separate places at night so we really are forced to see what we have had to do to be together?

We have a religious settler in the program. Shabbat was coming, he was going to have to leave because the Israeli Jews were staying in Jerusalem. And at dinner in the West Bank the Palestinians said, we must find a way for him to stay. He will come here; we will ask him to take off the religious wear- to put a cap on his head. We will walk with him back and forth- Ann and Silvia, please, ask if he can come here. In fact, we worked it out- and he did come though he felt much fear. And the whole group of Palestinians walked with him back and forth. Do they condone settlements? No! But this is what was created. We need you- we need YOU partner, please stay and talk to us. And this man- I will do this though I feel so much fear because I too need you. We can’t do this without each other. Can you see the courage on both sides, the stretching needed on both sides? Oh, my heart.

What comes after all of this? The recognition of miracles, feelings of hope, I see you- I can understand you, even though we may not agree. We are willing to find the path.

That final circle. That final morning and afternoon. We took turns speaking in the circle, in the middle, speaking rage, rage at leaders who refuse another way. Rage at religion being used to separate us; Rage at the violence, humiliation, and loss everyone in that room has experienced. We spoke hope and grief, pleading for an end to the cycle of violence, care for each other, awareness of the stories that are being told about the other, songs, and prayers and calls for the end of this war. Please can we find another way? Those who began the week saying the most difficult things to each other sitting next to each other, sobbing, a Jewish woman saying, I am leaving here, and I still can’t help you. I can’t help you; I can’t bear to imagine you going back. And a Palestinian man telling a woman he had worked with- I understand how much fear you have for your son fighting in Gaza, I understand.

I have witnessed what this work can do. This is not a special group of human beings. This is MOST OF US. This is us when we are held in a space where everything can come, and we stay. This is us when we are given the tools to understand that we are socialized human beings. Human beings who were taught to see the world in a very specific way and can learn to expand what we see when we spend time with others who have learned differently.

All of these people are taking this work back, to families, to communities, to schools, to their children.

One of the participants came up to me and starting yelling with such passion- THIS IS THE PEACE PROCESS- right here! THIS IS THE PEACE PROCESS!

I don’t want to hear that it is naïve, I have seen too many humans willing and able. And so many people are looking for this space. And we are training leaders who can hold this space.

When we start the week with a war and end the week with laughter and song. When we start the week with despair and rage and end the week with acts of generosity and courage and crossing borders to be with each other both physically and emotionally, I end the week with such hope.

"Hope" is the thing with feathers —

That perches in the soul —

And sings the tune without the words —

And never stops — at all —

And sweetest — in the Gale — is heard —

And sore must be the storm —

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm —

I've heard it in the chillest land —

And on the strangest Sea —

Yet — never — in Extremity,

It asked a crumb — of me.

Emily Dickenson