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from HOPE MAGAZINE, March 2003Peace Talks
When
Melodye Feldman overcame her anti-Arab bias, she discovered her role in the
Mideast
peace process: by Janna Graber NINETEEN-YEAR-OLD INAS had traveled to New Jersey, from her home near Jenin in the West Bank, to sit and talk with twenty-two Palestinian and Israeli teenage girls. As they sat in a circle at a New Jersey estate this last summer, their faces a mixture of apprehension, fear, and hope, they gazed at each other, seeing the enemy. All Israelis and Americans, Inas believed, were her enemies. The only Jews she knew carried guns and drove tanks; the same tanks and guns that kept her father from reaching the hospital when he had a heart attack last year. Now her widowed mother worked long hours in the olive groves to support her six children, and Inas wondered if she would be able to continue her university studies in hospital management. Her mother could not afford the tuition, and the Israeli-mandated curfews often kept her from attending class. Anger and frustration spilled over into her quiet words to the Israeli girls: "If you call us terrorists, then I am proud to be a terrorist." Her words struck deep into the hearts of the teens listening. Yet all of them, regardless of their various political beliefs, had come to take part in a unique program called "Building Bridges for Peace," to take the first step toward understanding the "other side." The girls listened, intent on understanding and validating Inas, even if they didn't agree with her. Each girl would have a chance to share her story; a chance to be heard. Even more important, the teens would live together and get to know each other outside of the situation that caused such hatred. By the program's end two weeks later, the girls who once stared at each other with revulsion wept at the thought of separation. Enemies have become friends: just what Melodye Feldman, the program's founder, hopes for: making peace, one life at a time. The forty-seven-year-old activist began Building Bridges ten years ago under a nonprofit organization called Seeking Common Ground. For the past nine summers, the Colorado-based organization has gathered teenage girls from Israel, the West Bank, and the Gaza Strip together to attend a three-week camp in the Rocky Mountains. (This year, due to the conflict, a shortened camp was held in New Jersey.) American girls of all ethnic groups also attend. The idea is simple: It's hard to hate someone who has become your friend. Feldman, a practicing Reconstructionist Jew, says the camp offers a safe place for the girls to share their stories and hear the experiences of others. "The girls live, eat and hang out together, and the barriers come tumbling down," she says. And while the young women may never agree on the conflict in their home countries, at least they better understand another point of view. And that, she believes, is the first step toward living together peacefully. Surprising, coming from someone who once feared Arabs. FELDMAN WAS RAISED IN MIAMI by liberal Jewish parents. As a child, she often felt the sting of labels. "One of my friends was not allowed to invite me over because I was Jewish," she says. "She would feel my head for the horns her parents had told her I had." At fourteen, Feldman was beaten up by a group of kids because she was Jewish. In high school, she transferred to a private Jewish school, and converted to Orthodox Judaism. "My parents didn't share my beliefs, but they respected me," Feldman says. "That instilled in me the sense that I needed to respect others as well." Still, Feldman had little exposure to other points of view. "I was so ignorant of Palestinian issues at that time," she says. "In fact, I didn't even know their name. I simply called them Arabs; and they were the enemy because they wanted to kill us." After getting a degree in philosophy of education from Northeastern University, and a master's in social work from University of Denver, Feldman worked as the director of a shelter for battered women. "I worked with rape victims, battered women, and the [male perpetrators]," she says. "I began looking at the whole picture of violence, trying to see it from a proactive rather than reactive manner." That perspective would serve Feldman well when she moved into peace-building work, years later. In 1980, Feldman and her husband, Josh Gould, moved to Boulder, Colorado, where she became active in an informal Jewish political group. "Things were heating up in the Middle East, and we were trying to educate the public on how dangerous the Palestinians were," she says. "We even made up brochures talking about how we had to defend ourselves." She held those views until she went to Israel to visit her mother in 1987. "I had visited Israel several times, but my perspective changed when I met an orthodox rabbi there who wanted peace. He asked if I wanted to know what was really going on, and took me up to a hill where we could look down and see the army in their tanks, and Palestinians throwing rocks back from the other side." Feldman returned home determined to learn more about the conflict. Two years later, she returned to Israel, visiting East Jerusalem for the first time to meet with Israeli and Palestinian peace activists. "What I saw there were human beings: people shopping, listening to music in cafés: just people," she says. "I developed friendships on both sides of the conflict, and I began longing for a way to help bring them together." Feldman made trips into east Jerusalem and the West Bank, meeting with Palestinian and Israeli women's groups working for peace and women's rights. "Even today, women's groups are the strongest peace movements operating in the Middle East," she says. The 1993 Oslo agreement opened doors for coexistence work between Palestinians and Israelis, and Feldman wrote the Building Bridges program based on several very basic principles. "I considered how we could build inclusive societies where people could live side by side without killing each other," says Feldman. "I wanted to give people the skills and tools to do that. And one-on-one interaction allows people to see a human face rather than the broad caricatures of certain groups drawn by media and stereotypes. This relationship building is the ground work. They're not negotiating anything, but laying a foundation of trust and empathy. And only then can you move on to addressing the conflict itself." Feldman chose to focus her work on women because they are often under-represented in the political process. "I wanted to work with teens because, at that age, everything is black and white," she says. "I wanted to show teens the gray during this important developmental stage." With the help of friend and fellow student Kerry Stutzman, Feldman outlined the program. Then she and Stutzman traveled to the Middle East and sought contacts. Through friends of friends, they ended up meeting with an Israeli foreign affairs officer, and with several Palestinians working for peace. "We had translated our flyer into Hebrew and Arabic, and then met with these people," says Feldman. "They were excited about the program, and trusted us enough to select the girls and send them to Building Bridges that first year." Today the program is organized in the Middle East by program alumni. After establishing contacts, Feldman set to work fund-raising in the United States. Since the program would provide most of the funds needed for the girls to attend, this meant a lot of cash had to be raised quickly. Denver's Temple Emmanuel provided start-up funds, and the program's first grant came from former Ambassador Swanee Hunt's foundation, and private individuals also provided funds. It was enough to get started. Raising money, however, is not Feldman's real passion. Her gift is working with young people. It's not uncommon to see her at an arts table, working on projects with the girls. She's been known to jump into lakes with her clothes on, dance Arabic belly dances, or play frisbee. "What I like best are the informal conversations with the girls," says Feldman. "I'm always looking for girls who are emotionally stuck. Those are the teens I want to have one-on-one conversations with, although I'm always open to any of the girls." Lisa Gossels, a New York City based filmmaker who is making a documentary called "Imagining Peace" about the participants in Building Bridges and its effect on their lives, documented the program's effect on Israeli and Palestinian teens this last summer. "When I asked the girls what they thought about Melodye, they said she was a combination of mother, friend, shrink, and guru," says Gossels. "Melodye has done something that our leaders have not been able to do: build love between Palestinians and Israelis," says Inas. Building Bridges has changed her life. "We trust Melodye. She loves us and believes in us." Not everyone has such a positive view of Feldman's work. Some even oppose it. "Sometimes after I speak, people come up and ask, 'How can you be helping those monsters?'" Feldman says. "It's usually those who have not faced their fears about the conflict who oppose our work, whether they be Jewish or Palestinian. I have been called a moral relativist because I can see both sides of the conflict," she says. "I understand the fear of the Israelis, and understand how it paralyzes you. But I see the same fear in the eyes of Palestinians." Feldman admits that even she still looks over her shoulder, worrying if each person is friend or foe. "But we have to be willing to take a chance for change," she says. "A professor once told me, 'The best way to ensure your own safety is to ensure the safety of the other.'" More than 400 girls have attended Building Bridges. Though oceans of hatred still boil over in the Middle East, Feldman believes hers is an effective way to wage peace. "People pat me on the head, and think I'm naïve about achieving peace," says Feldman. "But I'm not naïve. This is well-grounded in experience. To those who say peace will never come, I say we have three choices: we can stand still and be paralyzed by fear; walk backwards, believing nothing will change; or take steps forward toward change. Even small steps are good. Working toward peace is messy and proactive and will take generations. But this is real and it works." WORKING TOWARD PEACE brings criticism from communities on both sides of the conflict. Camp attendees report being harassed and criticized by family and friends for their newfound views. Befriending "the enemy" can be dangerous. Gal, a seventeen-year-old Israeli girl, has faced disapproval from her family for attending the camp. "One aunt even tried to brainwash me not to go," Gal says. "She told me Arabs only want to kill us." That was not the case. Instead, Gal met nineteen-year-old Razan, a Palestinian, and the two have become best friends. "We talk to each other all the time," Razan says. "She's honest with me and tells me everything. Our friendship is built on trust and honesty. My enemy is actually my best friend." At times it is hard for Gal to share her beliefs in the Israeli community. At first, she tried to speak out when others spoke ill of her friends or made jokes belittling Palestinians. "I would shout at them or just get sick inside," she says. But these confrontations were upsetting, and now she chooses when to speak up and when to be silent. "If the words come from a position of hate, I don't say anything," she says. "But if they come from ignorance or misunderstanding, I speak up." Gal continues to be active in peace organizations. She gathers strength from Razan and other friends at Building Bridges, especially as she faces doing her mandatory military service next year. "I still don't know how I feel about military service," says Gal. "There are bad repercussions if you do not serve." Still, her experience with Building Bridges has changed how she will look at the Palestinian people that she will undoubtedly encounter. Although Feldman started her work with teens in the Middle East, where she knew the conflict intimately, her ultimate goal has always been to work with young people from many countries in conflict around the world. In 2000, she collaborated with Dr. Katharine Henderson, a Presbyterian minister and the executive vice-president at Auburn Theological Seminary in New York City, to create Face to Face/Faith to Faith, a program designed to bring teens of all faiths together. "The goal is get these kids, the future leaders of the world, to see beyond their stereotypes of the other," says Henderson. Last year, Catholic and Protestant teens from Northern Ireland; and Hindu, Jewish, and Muslim teens from the Middle East, America, and South Africa, attended the program. While "the troubles" in Northern Ireland may look different from "the conflict" in the Middle East, the same concerns are played out: land issues, class struggles, indigenous people versus immigrants, and two sides looking at each other with mistrust. Ria Dowling, age seventeen, attended Face to Face last year. Born in London, she moved to Northern Ireland when she was fourteen. "I moved from a multicultural society to a society so closed off and segregated because of religion," she says. "People judge you before you have even spoken. Even your name will determine whether some people talk to you." "There are only forty-six integrated schools in Northern Ireland," says Peter Agnew, principal at New-Bridge Integrated College in Loughbrickland, Northern Ireland, a school started by parents. "The rest are separated, Catholic or Protestant. Most people live in segregated areas of town, and so the opportunities to mix with people of different beliefs are limited." Such segregation stamps children with distorted and uninformed beliefs about the "people on the other side," says Agnew. But bringing young people into contact with the "other side" changes everything. "At the Face to Face program, the teens see that the person they might consider an enemy is often very much like themselves," says Henderson, "so the other becomes a human being." Feldman is pleased to see such progress, but it runs deeper than that. "My expectation is not that they become friends or even agree," she says. "Rather that they have a chance to be heard. Pain often comes from feeling ignored. Healing comes from the ability to tell your story to the person that you perceive is the enemy." Agnew says the program had a deep impact on his Irish students, and he is eager to send another group next year. In a divided community where people often die by violence, Agnew believes that all who are willing to pursue change must do it wholeheartedly. "No difference should keep us apart," he says. "There are many in Ireland who are trying to help in their own quiet way; Melodye is helping in her way. Together, we are trying to affect a generation." One young Israeli man who had lost several friends to the conflict came into the program wanting to kill as many Palestinians as possible when he got into the army. At Face to Face, he met a young Palestinian man his age. He soon found that the two had much in common. "The young Israeli was a changed man," says Henderson. "There is a human being now behind the word 'Palestinian.'" FELDMAN DREAMS OF REPLICATING Building Bridges and the Faith to Faith program in many conflict areas of the world, from Afghanistan to South Africa. "What is heartbreaking for me is that I see the concept work here, with these kids," she says. "They form relationships and understanding. That's on a micro level. What if it could be on a macro level?" However, it takes money to pursue peace. Feldman's biggest frustration is that more money and effort goes into waging war than pursuing peace. "We're spending so much money on weapons for defense and so little on programs that initiate coexistence," she laments. "We have military academies, but where are the peace academies?" The organization often lacks funding, and raising money is a constant struggle. Feldman rarely takes a salary, and is grateful for the support of her husband and son, Coby. "They are my true partners in this work," she says. The doors at Seeking Common Ground have been close to shutting several times, yet each time, Feldman pushes on. "It takes $300,000 a year to run our programs, and we have a hard time raising that. I would do these programs year-round and in several places if I could," she says. The determined peacemaker also dreams of setting up a facility in Colorado to hold family camps and to do research on building peaceful communities. Although budget constraints keep the program small, the results are easy to see. E-mails pour into the organization's donated Denver office space from teenagers all over the world. Some want to share how their life has been changed; others simply need encouragement for the tough situations they face daily. The Israeli teens must decide whether or not to go out, knowing that many have died at the hand of suicide bombers. The Palestinian teens deal with whether or not they will have enough water and food this week. Will they be shot as they walk to school, or will Israeli-mandated curfews confine them to home? "It's a miserable time in the Middle East," Feldman says, "for both the Palestinian and Israeli teens. But what they have to go back to are those interpersonal relationships and friendships that they've built." Inas, who came into the program hating all Jews, now converses often with her Israeli friends. "I began to look at [the Israeli girls] as individuals, not as a group," she says. "I see that not all Jews are soldiers; they are human beings just like us." Though she still has disagreements with her Jewish friends, Inas says that this is not enough to keep them apart. Although it can be risky, former participants meet in Jerusalem or elsewhere whenever they can. Others keep in contact by phone, e-mail, or in an Internet chat room they've established. "I have changed," Inas says. "Before, I only saw myself; my hurts, my pain. Now I also think of my friends and the pain of others." There are times when people in the Palestinian community wonder how she can befriend Jews. "I tell them they are just girls; kids like us," says Inas. "Now many of my Palestinian friends are curious; they would like to attend the program too." Inas dreams of the day when Israelis and Palestinians will live side by side in peace. "Someday, I will tell my children that I had Jewish friends," she says. "But my hope is that they will believe this is nothing unusual, because they will have Jewish friends themselves." Janna Graber is a writer in Golden, Colorado. This is her first article for Hope.
Want to Learn More?
Seeking Common Ground P.O. Box 101958 Denver, CO 80250 303-698-9368 bbfpeace@aol.com http://www.buildingpeace.org/ Hope magazine, March/April 2003.
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