Ramallah's May Day rally (about one thousand strong) had just dissipated when the call came. "Tommorow we're going to the Church. There's a meeting tonight in Jerusalem. If you can't make it, be at Jaffa Gate at 2:00." I headed to an internet cafe, shot out a quick email saying I may be out of touch for a couple days, and punched in my bitter recollections of the Jenin Massacre (yes, it was a massacre) before cutting through the streets to Hurriya's house.

Hurriya is 12 years old, and we had set aside time over the next few days to work on the outline of her book. Thus far we had done a little art therapy with the other young folks from her apartment building, and she had interviewed them all multiple times. So our task then (and, sadly still today) was to map out a coherent story line. To that end, Hurriya had already thought up an opening, which goes something like this:

What is the meaning of this life? Is it to live with bullets breaking through your bedroom window? Is it to watch soldiers blindfold and beat and kidnap your father and brother? Is it to sit locked in your house without food, without electricity, without water? What is the meaning of this life?

Her questions--indictments, really--peel away garments of comfort and privilege and expose the full beating heart of the matter. For, it's next to impossible to "live," which is to say fully develop our human and loving capacities, while surrounded by such comprehensive levels of barbarism. Furthermore, to accept this barbarism, to turn away from these "facts on the ground," is to bludgeon one's own developing humanity. Thus Hurriya, this 12-year-old light unto the world, issues her challenge to all of us, to act. To move forward with purpose. To "declare our commitment to all the living without deceit, and without fear, and without reservation," and to build that declaration into affirmative action.

The following morning I would make my way through Jerusalem's Old City, to Jaffa Gate, and eventually to the little town of Bethlehem with Hurriya's challenge in my bones, and bags of lentils, rice, salt and other basic food supplies under my arms.

[To be continued...]

An emergency rally to end the military occupation and ongoing brutalization of Palestine--and the 35th anniversary of that occupation--will be held at 1 PM Saturday, June 8 at Westlake Park. See the calendar for details.