Belief in the deepest wellspring
Marla Schrader December 2004 Dear friends and colleagues, The fourth anniversary of the intifada has come and gone with barely a peep from the media. And yet, 4,342 Palestinians and Israelis have lost their lives (3,334 and 1,008 respectively). 82% of the Palestinians killed were civilians. With the apartheid wall and travel restrictions only expanding, there is no more possibility for a two state solution –only bantustan like cantons. People are depressed, impoverished. 30% of Palestinian children are now malnourished. And Palestinian women are five times more likely to be forced to go without prenatal care than they were before September 2000. Water, the environment, schools, healthcare –every aspect of life is worsening as the systematic violence of occupation, the state violence of Israel, denies over and over again the human rights of the Palestinian people. With all of this, I am so moved to see (despite the absence of mainstream news reports) the nonviolent movement in the occupied Palestinian territories really taking off. I am so encouraged by the number of non-violent activities taking place on a weekly, even a daily basis. This is, of course, in addition to the determined witness of a whole people continuing to go on with one’s daily life in the midst of isolation, humiliation and destruction. Last night my three-year-old daughter and I were listening to the music of Sabreen (a contemporary Palestinian music group) at dinner. She wanted to dance; I wanted to cry. My thoughts kept turning to how much promise there is in Palestine with so many talented artists taking pride in their culture and honoring their heritage. I was fortunate to know so many gifted people giving all that they had and all they had learned to the building of their country. Over two years have passed since we left the West Bank. Given the medical conditions of our family, we had no choice but to leave. However, we still carry a sense of longing and loss. We are now beginning to understand what so many refugees know all to well, that is what it means to raise your children in ‘Diaspora’. It is not easy to answer Jonathan (age 6) when he asks, “Why did the soldiers not allow me to go to preschool when we lived in Bethlehem?”. In his own way, he is still trying to understand the justification (or lack of justice) behind why we were under siege and why we left and came to the United States. It is hard to believe that a year has passed since the preeminent Palestinian scholar and thinker, Edward Said died. Two very good friends of ours, Nizar and Hani, who were among Palestine’s best talent in field of development died in tragic circumstances this past year as well. And then my dear Michael Prior, Irish Catholic priest, scholar, activist, humble friend and leader in exposing Zionism and those who collaborate with it, passed away this summer. And now, just in the past six days 65 people have been killed in Gaza, 19 of who were children. Houses and properties demolished; hundreds wounded. The death of people I knew and those I never met in Palestine, Iraq, Sudan and so many other places. Stevie Krayer, a Welsh Quaker of Jewish heritage wrote the following poem a few years back and dedicated it to Jean Zaru (Global Ministries mission partner with whom I work). Via Dolorosa These days, when I lower my pitcher into the well, I draw forth only salt water. I don’t see how our thirst is going to be quenched. Yet I believe the deepest wellspring remains uncontaminated. This at least I can do for you, sister, since I still have tears While you have wept your eyes to a dry desolation: weep on your behalf till the rain returns and fills the riverbed. I am grateful that I still have tears; and cry I must. Belief in the deepest wellspring allows us to continue, moves us onward, keeps us affirming life, advocating nonviolence and working for the human rights and dignity of all. Steadfastly, Marla Schrader
December 2004
Dear friends and colleagues,
The fourth anniversary of the intifada has come and gone with barely a peep from the media. And yet, 4,342 Palestinians and Israelis have lost their lives (3,334 and 1,008 respectively). 82% of the Palestinians killed were civilians. With the apartheid wall and travel restrictions only expanding, there is no more possibility for a two state solution –only bantustan like cantons. People are depressed, impoverished. 30% of Palestinian children are now malnourished. And Palestinian women are five times more likely to be forced to go without prenatal care than they were before September 2000. Water, the environment, schools, healthcare –every aspect of life is worsening as the systematic violence of occupation, the state violence of Israel, denies over and over again the human rights of the Palestinian people. With all of this, I am so moved to see (despite the absence of mainstream news reports) the nonviolent movement in the occupied Palestinian territories really taking off. I am so encouraged by the number of non-violent activities taking place on a weekly, even a daily basis. This is, of course, in addition to the determined witness of a whole people continuing to go on with one’s daily life in the midst of isolation, humiliation and destruction.
Last night my three-year-old daughter and I were listening to the music of Sabreen (a contemporary Palestinian music group) at dinner. She wanted to dance; I wanted to cry. My thoughts kept turning to how much promise there is in Palestine with so many talented artists taking pride in their culture and honoring their heritage. I was fortunate to know so many gifted people giving all that they had and all they had learned to the building of their country.
Over two years have passed since we left the West Bank. Given the medical conditions of our family, we had no choice but to leave. However, we still carry a sense of longing and loss. We are now beginning to understand what so many refugees know all to well, that is what it means to raise your children in ‘Diaspora’. It is not easy to answer Jonathan (age 6) when he asks, “Why did the soldiers not allow me to go to preschool when we lived in Bethlehem?”. In his own way, he is still trying to understand the justification (or lack of justice) behind why we were under siege and why we left and came to the United States.
It is hard to believe that a year has passed since the preeminent Palestinian scholar and thinker, Edward Said died. Two very good friends of ours, Nizar and Hani, who were among Palestine’s best talent in field of development died in tragic circumstances this past year as well. And then my dear Michael Prior, Irish Catholic priest, scholar, activist, humble friend and leader in exposing Zionism and those who collaborate with it, passed away this summer. And now, just in the past six days 65 people have been killed in Gaza, 19 of who were children. Houses and properties demolished; hundreds wounded. The death of people I knew and those I never met in Palestine, Iraq, Sudan and so many other places.
Stevie Krayer, a Welsh Quaker of Jewish heritage wrote the following poem a few years back and dedicated it to Jean Zaru (Global Ministries mission partner with whom I work).
Via Dolorosa
These days, when I lower my pitcher
into the well, I draw forth
only salt water. I don’t see how
our thirst is going to be quenched.
Yet I believe the deepest wellspring
remains uncontaminated. This at least
I can do for you, sister,
since I still have tears
While you have wept your eyes
to a dry desolation: weep
on your behalf till the rain
returns and fills the riverbed.
I am grateful that I still have tears; and cry I must. Belief in the deepest wellspring allows us to continue, moves us onward, keeps us affirming life, advocating nonviolence and working for the human rights and dignity of all.
Steadfastly,
Marla Schrader
Marla Schrader lived ten years in the occupied Palestinian territories. She continues to support the theological work of Jean Zaru, Clerk of the Ramallah Friends Meeting.