Day 191- In the footsteps of ancient giants

Dear Mr. President,

I've heard many times the sentiment Nicholas Kristof expressed today in his column "Waiting for Gandhi." The idea that the Palestinians have not found their Gandhi, their Dr. King; that one man, could save them all. I don't know if things are that simple. I don't know if a Messiah complex (or a waiting for a Messiah complex) is really what will make things all better. I admire Dr. King, and I admire Gandhi, but they were mortal men that achievement, history and personal sacrifice elevated to something higher, something, quite possibly, unattainable. I think that resting the salvation of an entire people on one man's shoulders is a dangerous proposition. For one thing, it discourages those who would walk the paths of these great men, but could never, alone, hope to fill their shoes. I think you might be able to empathize with this, given those who hailed you as the natural heir to Dr. King (or even Jesus) and then turned their backs when miracles did not appear in your first 100 days. How does a man meet such impossible expectations? And, when he cannot, how does he keep his spirit, his sanity, or his integrity when people give up hope? It isn't fair for us (or for Palestinians, or any one) to expect the work of healing our wounds and steering our nations to collective better destinies to belong to one man. We all must be that man.

Kristof naively describes the non-violence practiced by many Palestinian activists as a recent development, something "that some Palestinians are dabbling in." Perhaps Mr. Kristof has only recently witnessed it himself, but nonviolent resistance has been practiced by activists against the occupation for decades. I feel that this is an aspect of resistance that the media deliberately overlooks, but also that the Israeli government and the American government, fail to recognize, praise, and reward as an alternative to violence. The nonviolence is not less effective because it hasn't found a face for T-shirts of the next generation of hipsters yet.

I was reminded by a fellow blogger recently of some wise words from Rachel Corrie's posthumously published writings.

Anyway, I’m rambling. Just want to write to my Mom and tell her that I’m witnessing this chronic, insidious genocide and I’m really scared, and questioning my fundamental belief in the goodness of human nature. This has to stop. I think it is a good idea for us all to drop everything and devote our lives to making this stop. I don’t think it’s an extremist thing to do anymore. I still really want to dance around to Pat Benatar and have boyfriends and make comics for my coworkers. But I also want this to stop.

When I first read these words I felt, personally, called out by them. I needed to drop everything and devote my life to making this stop. I didn't imagine I could do it myself, and I didn't think Rachel thought she could, either. I don't think that I am special or significant or destined to singlehandedly stop injustice. I have no delusions of these kind, but I do feel that my efforts are needed. All of us, every one of us, is called upon to help. Seeing these words again, and then reading Mr. Kristof's column, his claim that "so far there is no Palestinian version of Martin Luther King Jr," I felt them even more powerfully. No one should wait for Gandhi, or Dr. King, or the next great man. That isn't what they taught, and it isn't how they succeeded. History may have elevated them in isolation, but they did not, and could not, have walked alone. At the risk of invoking a cliche seen on stickers and posters in every dorm in the country, Gandhi called us all to be that change we wish to see in the world. This kind of wisdom, that we all have a role to play, a greater cause to serve, a place on the road to our better future, is something that more of us have to take to heart.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 156- No one died.

Dear Mr. President,

No one died. That's how I answered my friend when she asked what happened to the Rachel Corrie. Certainly not for the first time in my life, I've had to readjust my threshold for acceptable behavior. I felt this frustration often when I worked as Loss Prevention, and often found myself thinking "Well, this person is drunk and disruptive, but at least they aren't smoking crack in the magazine section." (Yes, that actually happened.) It isn't that I think it's acceptable for Israel to prevent cement and building material from reaching the people of Gaza, for them to board ships and forcibly redirect them; but no one died, so I guess that's acceptable behavior, now. Or, they might have shot a girl's eye out during a protest, but at least they didn't crush her with a bulldozer. Is the behavior actually getting better or am I just become numb to the smaller injustices because of all the larger ones?

I'm tired and frustrated and finished adjusting my tolerance for injustice by this nation that we protect like it's our younger sibling. I caught sight of my reflection today, the silver necklace I wear, which is an outline of Palestine, suddenly looked delicate and fragile, a leaf that might be carried away or crushed at any moment. Isn't that how Israel impresses it's vulnerability upon visitors? Helicopter tours designed to show off how endangered it still is? This recent act of violence will not tempt me to the same folly that Israel has fallen to. I don't call for violence, for the inversion of the oppressed into the oppressors, for the fear I feel to become a weapon of some one else's destruction. I just want it to end. I just want the world to wake up and see the injustice we have perpetuated without any one else having to die to prove it. I know it isn't that simple and it isn't that easy and if there were some obvious solution we'd all leap at it. I am just so heavy with grief, these days.

So I'm not going to ramble any more, when words have long ceased to be enough. I'm going to sleep for a few hours and hope things look better tomorrow.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 152- Rachel Corrie

Dear Mr. President,

Another ship is heading toward Gaza. Israel has vowed, once again, to stop it with force. Right now, today, this moment is when you need to personally intervene. You can't tell me that you didn't see the earlier tragedy coming- any one with even a casual engagement in the region saw the calamity rushing towards the Mavi Marmara and its crew with the speed of an IDF helicopter. The Rachel Corrie and her crew will be facing the same calamity, soon. Israel will not hesitate to react the same way. We can express regret at the loss of life, call for investigations and demand resolution to the humanitarian crisis in Gaza all we want; but we must first call on Israel not to use deadly force against another humanitarian vessel and the brave souls on board. Outrage will not bring back the 9 dead, but swift, decisive political action could save lives when (and not if) the next confrontation occurs. The siege of Gaza must end, the blockade will be broken, and no amount of bloodshed now will deter further attempts. Israel is now discovering the power of peaceful, determined civilians willing to give their lives to ease the suffering of others; fear of that power could lead to more irrational violence.

Perhaps it is fitting that this ship is named after Rachel Corrie. I wonder, sometimes, if she was surprised when the soldier driving the bulldozer didn't stop, and, had she known, would she have stood her ground? I think she would have. I think the ship that bears her name is full of people who, knowing full well that the helicopters and the commandos will come, that the bulldozer will not stop, are standing up to stop the destruction. They deserve our respect, our support, and, God knows, our protection. Mr. President, you may not have been able to save the 9 dead aboard the Mavi Marmara, but you can save the crew of the Corrie. You, alone, can wield the diplomatic influence to have any hope of stopping an attack on this ship.

I think the point I'm trying to make is that people shouldn't have to die trying to bring supplies to Gaza. People shouldn't have to die trying to protect homes from being destroyed. The International community, and especially the United States, should make the consequences for these kind of human rights abuses so debilitating that no nation would dare conduct itself in this manner and still call itself our ally. These brave people are taking on the responsibility that should belong to all of us, as citizens of this planet. We should stand with them; Israel should be made to know that an attack against the Rachel Corrie is an attack against the United States of America. Don't make them stand alone, Mr. President.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 49

Dear Mr. President,

I was sorry to hear about the disturbed man in Texas today. While I often find myself reacting emotionally to such stories, I try to separate myself from the coverage of the story and put myself in the individual's shoes. One thing I never can reconcile is the degree of anger one must feel in order to commit such a violent act. I get angry, I get emotional, I get enraged at the decisions made by this government, and I often feel that I have no means of redressing these mistakes. Voting sometimes feels like an exercise in futility, and certainly running for office myself is not a viable option (nor, as Senator Bayh so eloquently illustrated, always an effective means of changing the system.) I have joined demonstrations against war and occupation; in my indignation at the suppression of basic human rights, I have even wished to march on Washington. I'll admit I admire the nerve and strength of character of Rachel Corrie, the young Washington girl who died at the hands of the IDF defending a home set for demolition in Gaza. I could devote my life, even perhaps my death, to a political cause.

But I could not kill for it.

I could not pick up a weapon, or launch a missile or crash a vehicle into a building. I cannot find the empathy to understand why some one would do this. I understand desperation and I understand self-defense, but I do not understand this kind of attack. Clearly, to some extent, it is by nature incomprehensible. The madness of the perpetrator makes rationalizing his behavior near impossible. But I know that I cannot comfort myself with the simple answer that this man was ill, end of story. This man did not think himself irrational. This clearly took planning and preparation, this clearly took a degree of reasoning. I had never even heard of the tax law that this man found so upsetting it drove him to violence. I'm reluctant to even follow the path of searching for justification too far, because the man may have had some very legitimate points about the problematic nature of this law, but any validity to his arguments is lost, forever, in the burning wreckage of that plane.

I don't know what to think. I don't know what to say. Today, we have no simple answer.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey