I remember picking out my clothes that morning. It was an all black ensemble to symbolize my state of mourning, composed of light, draped fabrics in an attempt to protect myself from words and glances that stick to your skin like burrs. I drove to campus in silence, dreading the conversation ahead of me.

I know the importance of conversations with people who disagree with you. I have been a peace studies student for four years- I can promise you that I have heard the adage again and again. At this point, it might sound like I don’t believe in it. In truth, in addition to my intense commitment to Palestinian liberation, I have dear friends who are Israeli and who I have spent many hours grieving, conversing, and sometimes arguing with. But I hate saying it out loud. Not because I do not love my friends and not because I do not believe in the importance of co-creating a future, but because my love for my friends and my commitment to this work so quickly becomes weaponized for civility politics. I have no interest in being civil with people who do not respect me, Palestinians, or the sanctity of human life. I have no interest in compromising on the tangible, material safety of the lives of Palestinians for the abstract comfort of the state of Israel. I won’t let my commitment to liberation be distorted in service of those who wish to silence and repress “uncivil” forms of resistance.

Given everything I just covered above, you might now be able to see just why I was so worried about this event. The description for the Wilkinson College Shared Humanity Day One event reads,

“For two years Mira Sucharov, Jewish-Canadian political scientist, and Omar Dajani, Palestinian-American legal scholar, have traveled within, discussed the tough issues of, and written about this region and conflict. Their conversations demonstrate the difficulties, promises, and importance of developing friendships across the divide.”

There it is. “Across the divide.” The phrase conjures up notions of “working across the aisle”- a phrase seemingly only used by Democrats as they slash important legislation to appease the extremist right while we rapidly descend into a political hellscape. I don’t believe it is hard for one to imagine why this phrasing raises the hackles of any politically engaged leftist.

When I took my seat in Fish Interfaith center, I immediately grabbed the index card on my chair to arm myself for notetaking. When the talk began, I analyzed every opening comment from Professor Rangel and Dr. Leitz as I jotted down key words and tried to determine the coming direction of the conversation. Words matter and framing is everything. I was ready to strike at any word that seemed out of place or phrase that suggested a particular stance. By the beginning of the Q&A with Mira and Omar, I had relaxed a bit. These people were friendly and they spoke with conviction, but also intention and compassion. When it came time to address the New York Times article about Hamas’s sexual violence (which I have plenty to say about and whole heartedly understand Omar’s reaction to, but that’s a topic for another post), my blood pressure shot through my head. I had heard Mira’s accusations of rape apologia from many on the internet before and I was ready for a fight. I was armed to the teeth with sources and hellbent on shutting this point down. And then it came time for Omar to address the issue, and I relaxed. And then immediately felt a little silly. His answer was true to his own feelings on the matter, but gentle and well-considered. This both humbled and infuriated me. He had every right to be mad at some of Mira’s blatant examples of white fragility, and yet here he was considering her a good friend and speaking gently and with care about her, their friendship, and their work. He was vulnerable and compassionate even when he has every right to act otherwise. I understand that there is certainly a portion of that associated with the fact that oppressed peoples often have to work civilly and carefully in order to be listened to and deemed worthy of consideration, but that does not mean doing so is not extremely hard. By the end of the event, I had a great appreciation for both Omar and Mira, and even went so far as to recommend Mira’s Facebook group to some of my friends.

As I walked back to my car in the rain after the event, I slipped off my shawl to take in the sensation of the gentle drizzle. I had gotten dressed that morning searching for protection from stinging words, but by the end of the event I was able to shed my shell and feel the sky’s tears mix with mine. Maybe words can be more than weapons. Maybe they can be the cleansing balm needed to water the seeds of peace.