Coping / August 13, 2018 by Sophie Schor

What happens when you write “about” someone as a part of your own personal experience? What happens when you live in a place and feel suffocated by the norm? What happens when you name a problem in a society that is not yours? What happens when that society envelops you and includes you (and therefore excludes you)? How do you move beyond any sort of liberal paralysis that tells you not to speak for others, that you are only a guest in this context, yet you're lead by a gut feeling that something is wrong? And how do you say in Arabic, “It was never my intention to cause any harm”?

Solitude / July 18, 2018 by Sophie Schor

My body does not feel my own. I do not feel my own. My smile falters, my voice fades, and I feel trapped. I cannot walk on the streets alone, I've been told by my host mom. I cannot travel alone, I've been told by the program. I cannot sit in a café alone, I've been told by Moroccan friends. The world started to close in: I have school, the classroom, the garden outside of school, the tense ten minute walk home, and the house. The house is lovely and commanding and reeks of mold and the pressure of a hospitable host mother who is constantly telling me "Eat! Eat!" I do not have a room of my own, I'm starting to go mad.

I spent the day walking up flights of stairs in Haifa.

After glancing at the map and seeing that it was only a 30-minute walk to my destination, I told myself that I was up for the adventure. But as the hill kept getting steeper, I felt more like someone climbing the mountain in order to learn the meaning of life from a monk; I was not disappointed.

I met today with an amazing woman at the Haifa Women's Coalition Center, the building that several feminist organizations call home. Sarai Aharoni had become my “academic crush” while I researching women’s peace and feminist movements in Israel. Aharoni has written a lot on feminism, women, peace and security, and the Palestinian-Israeli conflict. She put into words perfectly my discomfort with the academic boycott of Israel (read it here). To my pleasure, she responded to an email I had sent and invited me to Haifa to visit her and peruse the Women and Peace archives. It was a treat. She's part of the group that is establishing the Haifa Feminist Institute--giving an "official name," she explained to me, to something that already exists.

The center is home to organizations Kayan and Isha L'Isha, two of the most interesting feminist groups in Israel and Palestine. Isha L’Isha is one of the first feminist grassroots organizations and was founded in 1983. Kayan emerged from conversations amongst women in Isha L'Isha and is the Arab Feminist Center in the North working for equality of Palestinian women in Israel. The two organizations pursue many different activities, educational projects, and initiatives to promote women’s rights, women status, and women’s equality in Israel and Palestine. The Coalition is special because it is a space where Jewish and Arab women work together under one roof supporting women and victims of sexual abuse and domestic violence.

So here I was, sitting in this space that has been created for women by women and sharing methodological challenges of feminist theories with this brilliant woman sitting across from me surrounded by books and archives, an academic-dream-come-true.

Me excited to ride the funicular. Public transportation is fun(icular)!

Haifa is a fascinating city in the North and one that I have not explored enough. It extends all the way to the seacoast and then the city rises up to the hills and the Carmel Mountain. I left the meeting and wandered around the rest of the day, heading to destinations that my friends had recommended to me. I stumbled upon a café where the waiter was originally from Lebanon and settled myself into a corner: cozy and happy with my laptop and my work. It is what is called a “mixed” city, one that has a vibrant Jewish and Arab population. As I sat in the café, I felt like I could breathe deeply. People were just living and being people here. It didn’t matter what your ethnicity was, where your allegiances lie, or where you were from originally. This may be too idealistic and just all assumptions and superficial judgments. It is definitely a city that I want to know better. My mom lived in Haifa for a stint when she lived in Israel and as I was trekking up and down the stairs and venturing out to find the funicular (called the Carmelite!), I felt strangely at peace with my life. That feeling that I am exactly where I am supposed to be right now.

Update from Israel and Palestine: attacks inside Israeli borders have slowed down with the arrival of the rainstorm and winter .Yet things sound far from calm within the West Bank, a young soldier, who was stabbed at a famously tense junction (Tzomat Tapuah) in the territories, died today. Six other Israelis were injured in other attacks in the West Bank in the last several days including a particularly nasty drive-by. Settlers supposedly opened fire on farmers near Nablus. Soldiers killed a 72-year-old Palestinian woman after an alleged car attack. Clashes have erupted near Ramallah, protests in Gaza continue, shots are fired, people are dying, and from the perspective of Tel Aviv it feels like it’s being swept under a rug.

As Aharoni and I were talking today, a question left unanswered is haunting me. War and violence can be used as a catalyst to transform a society (with negotiations and compromise on the other side of the spectrum). The question facing us now: how much more violence is necessary to transform this one?

International Women's Day March at Qalandiya Checkpoint / March 7, 2015 by Sophie Schor

March 7, 2015

Busy week since I've returned. On Wednesday there was a March of over 3,000 women who stood outside the Knesset demanding peace. The event was organized by a new group that formed after the war this summer, Women Wage Peace. The garden across from the parliament was full of Jewish and Palestinian women who gathered to demand peace.

Then this morning I was at Qalandiya checkpoint, the crossing between Jerusalem and Ramallah, with many women who were protesting against the occupation for International Women's Day. The nonviolent demonstration was organized by many feminist groups in Israel and Palestine including Women in Black, Mahsom Watch, Women against Violence, Democratic Women and 40 Mothers. I'm doing research for my masters on women peace movements in Israel/Palestine and the week proved to be first-hand research. Women were all ages, but I spoke with some of the founding matriarchs.

So there we stood on one side of the wall while Palestinian women from the West Bank stood on the other side; united by solidarity, divided by concrete. I joined some of the founding feminists in Israel over 60yrs old, Palestinian women from the North, young women from North and South, and internationals. We chanted, we held signs, we banged drums. One scrawny little woman wearing a straw-hat came up to me and handed me a page telling me to vote for the Joint-Arab list. She described to me how she immigrated to Israel from Canada in order that when she was arrested for protesting, they would be forced to honor her rights. She was spunky and radical and in her late 60s. Another woman and her daughter were part of Women in Black and held a big sign that said "Women against occupation." The daughter was my age and said that she has been standing on street corners and junctions with her mom for 10 years with that sign. A Palestinian woman and I began to talk about the event and her group "Women for Democracy" as the tear gas wafted over the wall towards us. We had to stop talking because breathing led to instant coughing.

From the other side of the wall, our Palestinian compatriots were hit with tear gas—not once, not twice, but three times. We only caught whiffs of it as the wind blew it our way, but it was enough to make me still gag hours later. 15 women were reportedly injured and several rushed to the hospital due to over exposure to tear gas. A peaceful, nonviolent protest for women's rights and it was met by teargas.

Here's to the brave women standing on the other side of the wall from me. And here's for the feeling of hope I had being surrounded by these strong, thoughtful, creative women who are fighting for a change. There's another protest tonight in Tel Aviv, it's being called "Israel wants Change" and is promising to fill Rabin square with people demanding a change in government.

Election season is in full swing here. Stay tuned!