After neglecting it for a while I’ve decided to retire Did you learn anything?; I’ve freshened it up and made it into an archive. My point of view has changed significantly in the past year and if I get back to blogging in English, I’ll want to use a new blog for it.

So long, and thanks for all the fish…

Listen to this song. Kelmti Horra, ‘my word is free’, sung by Emel Mathlouthi at a mass sit-in.

What you hear is the sound of hope.

“I am those who are free and never fear,”¹ she sang, as the Tunisian people rose up to topple the dictator. Yes, that revolution may have been followed by an electoral victory for Islamists, but few revolutions ever attain total liberation. No, make that none.

That is the way of the world. Some regime grows abusive; eventually the people rise up and topple it; a new regime comes instead, and before long it abuses the very people who put it in power. Perhaps it is not as cruel as that which it replaced; all the better for the new rulers, as they know the people will consider them better than their predecessors, and be hesitant to rise up again.

But the way of human freedom – of free thought – is the way of the constant revolution. The old king is dead, long live the new king – for a while, until he grows cruel and we again grow weary and it is, again, time to replace him.

No regime that is abusive towards its people can last forever. Eventually, someone will stand up and say, “I am the free people of the world. I am like a bullet.”

And then, the cycle begins again.

Know hope.

Footnotes

1. I got the English translation of the lyrics from here.

My friend works in a democratic school and is doing research on democratic education. She recently visited my school, Sudbury Jerusalem – her first real live encounter with a Sudbury school. We were at an outdoor bar on Tel-Aviv’s famous Rothschild Avenue, and it was the middle of the night. On tall wooden barstools, across a long and narrow wooden table, we sat drinking an Irish stout as she recounted her visit.

My friend loved what she saw at Sudbury Jerusalem and saw in it a place that truly lives the ideals of democratic education. But she also raised a concern: that Sudbury schools are too unusual to attract many families from disadvantaged backgrounds. All I could do is nod sadly.

Radically different

Needless to say, Sudbury schools are open to people of all backgrounds. But Sudbury schools also completely reject traditional ideas of education – curricula, evaluation, adult guidance, etc. – approaching schooling from a radically different direction. It’s difficult for most people to understand, and seems to only attract few families from low-income backgrounds.

When you first tell people about schools like ours, the reaction is often one of shock and disbelief. “So they don’t have to take any classes? How do they ever learn anything? But children need structure!”

Other democratic schools can answer, for instance, that “students have a mentor who helps them identify goals and follow through on them.” This calms a lot of people down.

Sudbury schools, on the other hand, can only answer that the children learn to be responsible for their own time and identify what they want to do and how to do it.

I, of course, consider this correct, both in principle and in practice.

Between freedom and compromise

In Sudbury schools, students are wholly responsible for their own choices, first and foremost in choosing how to spend their own time.

Other democratic schools say the same thing, to some degree or another. But they typically integrate elements of traditional education as well. Though far from the overzealous, paternalistic control exercised by adults in traditional schools, adults in these schools typically take over some of the student’s responsibility, gently guiding them in some way.

Many in the movement view it as a compromise, but it makes the school easier to accept and understand, and as a result, makes it likelier to serve disadvantaged groups. Making no such compromise, Sudbury schools are not very well-equipped to serve them.

Like my friend, I too see this as a problem. Democratic schools are a good thing, and it seems unfair that they be the privilege of those who already enjoy social privilege.

Schools as a tool of change

My friend argued that democratic schools are a vital tool for social change, and that they should compromise in favor of common norms, so as to be more attractive to disadvantaged groups. This is important because democratic schools can be a great influence for children – of all backgrounds – and help them help themselves, their families, and their communities. If we care about disadvantaged groups and consider democratic education good, we should be concerned with bringing it to them.

I see the merit of that approach, but I’m not convinced that the tiny proportion of democratic schools in society right now can have significant impact on social gaps. And even if it does, I think there are other, more effective ways to work on these gaps than starting democratic schools.

Maybe it isn’t in the details

I also think there’s a limit to how much the conceptual minutiae of a democratic school matter in this regard. People from underprivileged backgrounds actually don’t want democratic schools, and for a good reason: they need socially-approved education that can help them get ahead in society. Democratic schools are not generally recognized as a good thing and are not an obvious tool for social advancement.

Attaining prestige

Appeal to disadvantaged groups, I argued, will come with time, by democratic schools establishing themselves as a viable and successful model and becoming socially desirable. Once the general public considers a democratic education prestigious, low-income families will aspire to send their children to our schools. But the more we compromise, as a movement, the less we can establish ourselves as a distinct and superior alternative.

Like so many other innovations, the early adopters will enjoy the benefits of democratic education first, paving the way for others to follow. In a perfect world, we would be spared this injustice – but we don’t live in a perfect world.

Conclusions

My friend could see merit in my argument as well. No conclusion was reached that night.

Ultimately, I think it’s great that different groups are trying different approaches to democratic education. We all have a lot to learn from one another, and the more different things we try, the more we will know about what works.

I’m back in Israel now, and plan to be here for a while. I left Germany just as winter was starting in earnest, and arrived just as what is called “winter” here is starting – which has a lot in common with late summer or fall in Germany, and nothing at all with German winter.

I’m thrilled to be back, and wondering how long the euphoria can last. I will finally resume posting in the coming days, and hope to be able to share with you some interesting thoughts and experiences.

If there’s something in particular you’d like to hear my take on, don’t hesitate to leave a comment!

What are the main ingredients of a democratic culture?

On August 25th, I’ll be giving a workshop and lecture in Greifswald. At the EUDEC conference in Freiburg, my host and I grabbed two plastic chairs and sat down in a sunny spot for a short interview, some of which is now on the fine poster ad you see here; at one point he asked me a question I haven’t heard too often: what are the main characteristics of individuals who are part of a “democratic culture”?

A democratic culture, as I understand it, is a kind of culture that develops within a group that makes decisions democratically; democratic culture makes democracy more than just a decision-making process – instead it becomes a way of life, something you notice in all kinds of interactions between people.

I came up with four main points:

• Communication at eye level (as opposed to talking up or down to someone) – regardless of age
• Respect  for all other individuals
• Willingness to listen, even when confronted with a view you disagree with
• Willingness to reflect  on one’s actions, recognize mistakes, and learn from them

To me, these are the things that people have to have in order to keep a truly democratic culture alive.

Without equal communication, respect, and willingness to listen, the discussions that are the bread and butter of democracy are impossible. Without a willingness to reflect, they’re pointless.

What do you think are the most important ingredients of democratic culture? Leave a short comment below!

“Where do you work?”

“At Sudbury Valley School.”

“What do you do?”

“Nothing.”

-Hanna Greenberg, The Art of Doing Nothing

I was recently reminded of a discussion we had, more than a decade ago, when starting Sudbury Jerusalem.

The topic of the discussion was whether Sudbury staff are allowed to offer classes, and it’s one of the few discussions from the founding process which I still remember vividly today.

We were sitting in a co-founder’s airy living-room, spread out on several couches and stools, and we talked well into the night. It’s no wonder – the role of staff comes up again and again anywhere where people who went to more traditional schools are trying to wrap their heads around the Sudbury approach.

The ideal staffer

The ideal Sudbury staffer, to me, is an adult who communicates with young people respectfully, and does so in an authentic, natural way. They talk with them at eye level and don’t presume to know better just because they are older. They don’t see it as their mission to get students interested in their own areas of interest or expertise. A student’s interests are their own business, and theirs alone.

It is also very important that the staff understand this approach well, well enough to explain it to newcomers. But in this post I want to focus on staff’s role in everyday interactions in the school, so I’ll ignore this important aspect for a moment.

When explaining Sudbury schools, we often have to emphasize this: The staff’s job isn’t necessarily to offer classes, nor even to give classes on request.

A lot of adults out there feel it’s their responsibility (and their right) to take up young people’s time by teaching them, for their own good, whether or not they’re keenly interested. Such people are not ideal Sudbury staff material.

If a staff member really, truly wants to offer a class, because they would enjoy doing it, and not because they want to do something to alleviate students from their ignorance, then that’s perfectly fine. It’s the motivation behind the class that matters, and it’s the same with offering an opinion: it’s fine so long as it’s authentic.

It’s in the process

Ultimately, the Sudbury model doesn’t need a crisp and clear job description for staff, thanks to the democratic process used for hiring and firing them. Staff is typically hired by School Meeting based on a recommendation by a specialized committee; all staff stands for re-election every year, and School Meeting can decide to fire a staff member more or less at any time.

Staffers are hired by the school as a resource, and this means their areas of knowledge and experience will be taken into account. A staffer who can be helpful in running the school might be just as valuable and needed as a staffer who can teach 5 different subjects at a university level. But all of this is subject to a democratic process, meaning that individuals in the school can freely take part in deciding what the school needs at that time and choosing people who can supply it.

If the school hired someone who turns out not to be so helpful, that person can be fired for it. For example, a staff member who doesn’t help with administration, or never agrees to help people when asked, or seems to care more about personal projects than the school, may well be fired before long.

The proof is in the pudding

Ultimately, you just don’t need any fixed requirement at all – not even the requirement to be respectful and authentic. Adults who come in and can’t relate to children comfortably and respectfully aren’t likely to be offered a contract, or keep one for long if they get it. Adults who don’t respect children’s time and interests and always want to fill it up with their pet subjects will be seen as pesky and rude; they likely won’t get in either.

But staff who relate to young people respectfully and authentically; staff who have their own interests and enjoy sharing them with whoever is interested; staff who have an opinion and know how to express themselves clearly but respectfully – such staffers can and do offer activities and opinions, and they’re appreciated for it.

Sudbury schools need adults who can just be adults, all day long, without the need to constantly be teachers.

The article quoted at the top of this post, The Art of Doing Nothing, offers Hanna Greenberg’s far more experienced and better-formulated take on the role of staff at Sudbury schools, or at least one aspect of it. I highly recommend reading it.

Das deutsche Gerichtsurteil gegen Beschneidung hat mich schockiert und ich finde es falsch, obwohl ich finde, dass Beschneidung tatsächlich eine Art der Körperverletzung ist.¹ Das Urteil ist ein Fall von religiöser Unterdrückung, was jedoch vielen Menschen in Mitteleuropa offensichtlich nicht klar ist – sogar die Österreicher und Schweizer haben sich dieser Entscheidung angeschlossen.

Um es vorweg zu nehmen: Obwohl ich dieses Thema schwierig finde, bin ich grundsätzlich der Meinung, dass alle kulturellen Praktiken, die die Verletzung von Babys beinhalten, fragwürdig bis absolut widerlich sind. Schon in meiner Kindheit, als skeptischer Junge in einer jüdischen Umgebung, habe ich insbesondere die Beschneidung etwas widerlich gefunden. Ich wünsche mir, dass Beschneidung und alles ähnliche von der Welt verschwinden würde. Ich bin auch dankbar dafür, dass das Thema aufgrund des Urteils jetzt diskutiert wird, auch in Israel.²

Allerdings zeigt für mich das Urteil und dessen Unterstützung ein grundsätzliches Fehlverständnis der Bedeutung von Beschneidung im Judentum.³

Beschneidung, so krass sie als Praxis sein mag, gilt im Judentum schon seit Jahrtausenden als wichtiges, für Jungen sogar als das wichtigste Zugehörigkeitskriterium. Natürlich bedeutet diese Tatsache allein nicht, dass die Praxis gut oder schlecht ist. Eine Beschneidung ist tatsächlich eine ziemlich bescheuerte Art und Weise, sich von anderen Gruppen zu unterscheiden. Ich finde aber, dass man es bei Religionen wirklich nicht anders erwarten kann. Was erst einmal wichtig ist, ist die Bedeutung dieser Praxis, für die von dem Urteil betroffenen Menschen.

Egal wie wir es bewerten, man muss einfach wissen, dass die Entscheidung, einen neugeborenen Jungen nicht zu beschneiden gleichzeitig bedeutet ihn aus der Gemeinschaft, aus der man selbst kommt, zu entfernen. Ein Junge aus einer jüdischen Familie, der nicht beschnitten ist, wird vermutlich nicht nach jüdischem Recht eine jüdische Frau heiraten dürfen, sollte er sich das wünschen.⁴

Das ist alles ziemlich scheiße, weil für uns, die wir einen jüdischen Hintergrund haben, dann die Wahl, es dem Kind ganz selbst zu überlassen, nicht vorhanden ist: wir legen für ihn fest, ob er ein potenzieller Jude ist oder nicht.

Ich wünsche mir, das wäre alles nicht so, aber es ist so. Fakt ist, dass, wenn es mir auch nur ein bisschen wichtig wäre, mein Leben nach jüdischer Tradition zu führen, nach diesem Urteil Deutschland als Wohnort einfach nicht mehr in Frage käme. Selbst ich, so absolut sekulär wie ich bin, mache mir jetzt angesichts des wiederbelebten Gestanks der Intoleranz erneut Gedanken zum Thema. Und das, noch bevor wir über Geschichte geredet haben.

Denn im Judentum selbst ist das ein schwieriges, historisch beladenes Thema. Schon seit über zweitausend Jahren kommt immer mal wieder ein Herrscher, der den Juden die Beschneidung verbieten will. Weil die sturen Juden immer wieder auf ihre Religion beharren, wurden sie früher auch immer wieder ermordert. Damit will ich nicht andeuten, dass Deutschland auf diesem Hintergrund wieder Juden schlachten will – das glaube ich nicht – der Punkt ist, dass dieses Gerichtsurteil im, der Geschichte sehr bewussten, jüdischen Bewusstsein, alte Wunden aufreißt.

Dazu muss man sagen, dass unter vielen Juden, Versuche, Juden von ihrer Religion abzubringen oder insbesondere sie dazu zu bringen, ihre Kinder nicht entsprechend der Religion zu erziehen, mit Genozidversuchen gleichgesetzt werden. Ich finde diese Gleichsetzung stark übertrieben, kann sie aber nicht ändern, und ich kann sie gewissermaßen auch verstehen. Denn dieses Urteil ist nicht das erste mal, wo Juden gesagt wird, die dürfen gerne wo leben, so lange sie ihre religiöse Identität abgeben.

Der Wunsch, Beschneidung nicht mehr in der Welt, oder zumindest im eigenen Land, zu haben, ist ein berechtigter. Dieses Urteil wird aber meiner Meinung nach bei den meisten Juden zwei Arten Reaktionen auslösen: entweder woanders zu leben, oder hier zu bleiben und aus Trotz weiterhin Beschneidung zu betreiben. Die jüdische Kultur hätte nicht so lange überlebt, hätte sie nicht den Reflex entwickelt, das Überleben als solches allen Vorschriften der Herrscher als überlegen zu betrachten. Selbst einige Juden, die sich zuvor vorstellen konnten, die Beschneidung sein zu lassen, werden nun darauf bestehen. Wer das nicht versteht, kennt offensichtlich weder Juden noch das Judentum.

Die inhaltliche Bedeutung einer Aussage ist oft eine andere, als die Bedeutung der Aussage selbst, in ihrem Zusammenhang. Das Urteil, Beschneidung mit Körperverletzung gleichzusetzen, ist inhaltlich richtig, durfte aber trotzdem nicht gemacht werden, denn es bedeutet schlicht und einfach, dass Juden und Moslems nicht mehr in Deutschland willkommen sind – solange sie drauf bestehen, weiterhin Juden bzw. Moslems zu sein.

Dieser Post wurde von Sabine Günther korrigiert, wofür ich mich herzlich bedanke.

Kommentare, in Englisch oder in Deutsch, sind unten herzlich willkommen, insbesondere anderer Meinung. Kommentare, die ich subjektiv als rassistisch empfinde, werden nicht veröffentlicht – ich bitte die Verfasser dieser Kommentare, ihren Rassismus woanders zu äußern und mir (per Mail) einen Link zu geben.

[Englische Übersetzung beginnt / English translation begins]

Ignorance and bris

The German court ruling against ritual circumcision – outlawing it as a form of unnecessary bodily harm – shocked me. I think it’s the wrong decision, although I actually do think ritual circumcision is a form of unnecessary bodily harm.⁵ The ruling is a case of religious oppression, but this is apparently not clear to many people in Central Europe.

Before I even start, I should make something clear: although this is a very difficult issue for me, I do basically believe that any cultural practice which includes harming babies is at best questionable, usually repugnant. In my childhood, as a skeptical boy in a Jewish environment, I was already disturbed by circumcision. I wish circumcision and everything like it would cease to exist in this world, and I’m thankful for the court ruling insofar as it’s instigated discussion about this, even in Israel.⁶

Nonetheless, the ruling reveals a fundamental lack of understand of the meaning of circumcision in Judaism.⁷

Jewish circumcision – crass a practice as it may be – has, for millennia, been an important criterion for belonging; for boys, perhaps the most important. This alone says nothing to how good or bad it is, of course. It’s actually a pretty insane way to differentiate yourself from other groups, but I don’t think one can really expect much better from religion. The important thing is only the meaning of the practice for those affected by the ban.

No matter how you choose to judge it, it’s crucial to understand that the decision not to circumcise a newborn boy means, at the same time, to decide to remove him from the community you come from. An uncircumcised boy from a Jewish family, I think, will later not be able to marry a Jewish woman by Jewish religious law, even if he wishes to do so.⁸

It’s a pretty shitty situation. Those of us from a Jewish background don’t actually have the choice to let our boys decide on their own. We face the decision of either deciding that our boy can potentially be every bit as Jewish as he wants, or that he can’t.

I wish it weren’t so, but so it is. Fact is that if it were even just a little important to me to live by Jewish tradition, Germany (and Austria, and Switzerland) would no longer be places I could see myself living in. In fact, even as thoroughly secular as I am, the reanimated stench of intolerance makes me have second thoughts already. And all of this before we even touched on the history.

You see, in Judaism in particular this is a difficult, historically loaded topic. For over 2,000 years already, Jews have been confronted, again and again, with some ruler who wishes to stop their circumcisions. Because the stubborn Jews repeatedly insisted on sticking to their religion, they used to be repeatedly murdered. I don’t mean to insinuate, that Germany will return to the wholesale slaughter of Jews on this backdrop – I don’t believe that’s the case whatsoever. The point is simply that this court ruling reopens old wounds, wounds which all Jews remember well.

I also have to add that for many Jews, such attempt – attempts to get Jews to abandon their religion, and especially to get them to stop raising their children as Jews – are seen as a form of genocide. I find the comparison highly exaggerated, but I can’t change the way people feel, and I can even understand it a little; after all, this ruling is not the first time that Jews have been told they can live somewhere so long as they relinquish their religious identity.

The wish to see circumcision gone from the world, or at least one’s own land, is a fair wish to have. However, I believe this ruling will trigger one of only two reactions amongst Jews: either we’ll live somewhere else, or we’ll stay here and circumcise our sons out of spite. The Jewish culture would not have lasted this long if it did not have the reflex of seeing the survival of the culture as overriding any ruler’s decrees. I imagine that even some Jews who might previously have considered avoiding circumcision for their sons might now insist on it. If you can’t understand this, you clearly know neither Jews nor Judaism.

What you say is often something different from what it means that you said it. The ruling is correct in stating that ritual circumcision is unnecessary bodily harm. But a German court should never have said such a thing – the fact of the statement, in its context, means very simply that Jews and Muslims are no longer welcome in Germany – so long as they insist on continuing to be Jews or Muslims.

Thanks, Colin, for the suggestion that led to this post’s English title!

Comments in English and in German are most welcome, especially those disagreeing with me. However, any comment I subjectively consider racist will not be published. I ask those whose comments I do not publish to publish their comments elsewhere and email me a link.

Footnotes

1. Man kann sich aber natürlich auch fragen, ob man also nicht auch das Rauchen in der Schwangerschaft strafbar machen will, und sogar das Essen von industriell aufgezogenem Fleisch.
2. Ein Beitrag auf Englisch zum Beispiel hier von Larry Derfner.
3. Wie es im Islam ist, kann ich nicht genau sagen – es folgt hoffentlich bald ein Beitrag von einem muslimischen Freund dazu.
4. Ich kenne mich mit diesen Einzelheiten nicht aus, da ich mich nie mit der Religion identifiziert habe, aber soweit ich weiß, müsste der Junge sich dann konvertieren und auch beschneiden lassen, und würde danach noch immer für viele Juden nicht als wirklich-echt-ganz-100%-jüdisch gelten.
5. But while we’re at it, why aren’t we banning smoking during pregnancy, or even the consumption of industrially-grown meat?
6. For example, see what Larry Derfner wrote.
7. I can’t really speak for Islam, but I will hopefully soon have the pleasure of hosting a guest post by a Muslim friend on this topic.
8. I should point out that I’m not very knowledgeable about the details, mainly because I’ve never identified with the religion. But if I’m not mistaken, the boy would have to go through the process of conversion, including adult circumcision, in order to marry that way – and then many Jews would still consider him not really-truly-totally-100% Jewish.

I’m often asked how many people really participated in School Meetings at Sudbury Jerusalem – as if it’s less democratic when fewer people choose to participate. But actually, low participation at meetings can be a sign that democracy is working well.

When we started Sudbury Jerusalem, for a few weeks we had a School Meeting every day.

Most of the proposals, at first, came from those who had been in and around the founding process – mainly staff and children of staff. I was a student and a co-founder, and one of the most active participants.

It took months – dozens of Meetings – for the process to become so established in the school’s culture that many other students made proposals. In parallel, as time went by, fewer and fewer students regularly took part in School Meetings.
The early School Meetings at Sudbury Jerusalem focussed on establishing the rules of the game. We spent hours in heated discussion about School Meeting, Committees, procedures – about how the whole thing works. Not everyone is interested in that kind of thing.

But some members of the community, especially those involved in starting the school, felt strongly about these things, and insisted on being part of these discussions.

Those of us who were more involved than others at the time weren’t trying to contol everything, we were mainly trying to lead by example. We, who had spent so much time in envisioning and preparing the school, wanted to demonstrate what the school’s democracy meant: that any of us can take initiative and put forward proposals for improving things in the school.
In the beginning, most students came to those daily School Meetings. They wanted to see what it’s all about, to make their voice heard, and to find out who makes the decisions. I think a few of them wanted to find out who’s really in charge so that they would know who to rebell against.

After a while, most students would only come to support or oppose some specific proposal.

In my view, this was a benefit of having an established way of doing things. It let people relax and trust the process. You don’t have to personally suffer through boring discussions if you know that decisions are made in a fair and transparent way, and that you can always propose to change them later.
For a while, most School Meetings were attended by the staff and one or two students. We came to see this as a sign that all was well.

Students who didn’t come to Meetings knew what was being discussed and what had been decided, and they knew that they could come and change things if need be. But School Meeting was doing a decent job, so most Meetings were small, almost empty.

Once in a while some proposal would come up which interested a lot of students, and suddenly the room would be full. Like the time when a student proposed to create a petting corner. When the proposal came up she called in a bunch of kids who wanted to make it happen, and they easily got a majority, despite some regular attendees (like myself) being against it.

But in day to day life, the Meeting and most of its decisions just didn’t get in the way. They were usually helpful or unnoticable.

The purpose of School Meetings was to ensure that the school continues to exist and that its members are safe and free to pursue their interests.

As a rule, apart from the first year, it was always a small group who was interested in attending every Meeting. We took this as a sign that things were working well.
Of course, different members have a different ability to participate in that kind of procedure, and that is a form of inequality.

But I think back about two younger friends of mine, A.P. and N.F., whom I knew as the kind of boys who would be interested in anything but School Meeting. Both used to have difficulties with reading and writing, another barrier to their participation. Both of them later became Chairs of School Meeting.

They became interested, they attended meetings and learned more about them, they saw work to do, and they stepped up.
People enter a school – or any organization – with diverse interests, different backgrounds, and different skills. Most are not interested in “running the business”, which is what the Meeting does. So a small group ends up doing that. It’s important that the Meeting stay accessible to new participants, but it ultimately has to focus on its important task – which most people find boring.

There’s just not much more you can do, unless you want to force people to participate, or force them to acquire the skills they’d need to participate effectively. But neither option respects people’s individual freedom and autonomy, so neither option is compatible with the liberal-democratic ideal.

All you can do is keep Meeting accessible and lead by example. If you make use of the Meeting on the one hand, and respect its decisions on the other hand, you show others what the Meeting means. If you do neither, there’s no reason for anyone to participate in it at all.

By the way: I haven’t been posting much, and probably won’t be posting much in the coming weeks either. I’m focussing on my work in linguistics now, which involved more than enough writing, but not of the bloggy kind. Being this focussed is a lot of fun and I want to keep it up while my contract lasts. I expect to post more actively starting in August.

10 Things I Really Like About Living in Israel (Note: This is Not a Sarcastic Title)

[…]

I do not have a positive vision as to what should be here, in terms of political “solutions,” arrangements, et cetera. I do, however, have a very strong sense of what should not be here (for a more detailed list, see: Rothman, Blog About Things That He Thinks Should Not Be, Everyday, All Pages, www.thelefternwall.com). Here’s a metaphor I made up for this friend: let’s say Israel is a garden. There are some people who will try and plant flowers of solutions, of development, of progress here in this garden, and I think that is a good thing and I support them. However, I see my role not as planting flowers, but rather as weeding, weeding out violence, weeding out racism, weeding out oppression, weeding out hatred, et cetera. The weeds here have grown quite powerful, and probably by the fault of no single gardener or even group of gardeners but rather by the breezes, rainfalls, insects and chemicals of history and political circumstance. Someone needs to take them out so that there will be room for others to plant the flowers. If you try to plant a flower of “solution” in a garden overrun with weeds of violence or racism, the flower won’t have much of a chance to grow.

[…]

I can only imagine good coming out of my articulating for readers what it is I love about living here, whether to complicate the picture for those who are overly-excited about Palestine/Palestinians (if you will notice, I don’t often write positive things about Palestine/Palestinians either, and I am not a Palestinian Nationalist, even as I support Palestinians’ right to live in freedom, like everyone else), or to clarify for readers who find my work too critical that I truly do what I do out of love and concern, and a desire to build and improve, even if I think that building needs to come from weeding dangerous phenomena (phenomena, and never people […])

[…]

I will indeed make a list of things I really like. Which is fun for me too.

1. The people. In general I really like Israeli people, even if I disagree with many of them re: politics/Palestine. I like their directness, I like their humor, I like their warmth, I like the diversity of history and of journey and of identity and of belief, I like the way we all share a sort of nutsness, especially Jerusalemites.

Read the rest over at Moriel’s blog, The Leftern Wall »

I love the garden metaphor, and I also love most of the things on Moriel’s list. Many of them really capture why I miss Israel and care so much about what goes on there. This post, like many on Moriel’s blog, is well worth reading.

Meta note: the lack of posts lately was mainly because of some drama I had, which I won’t get into here. The important thing is that everything’s fine now, even better than fine, and once I’ve finished catching up on some things, I expect to be posting again, for real.