Focus on Material Resources Ignores the Untapped Resource of Compassion

We live in a world that is interconnected.  This is a readily-acknowledged sentiment. From the Christian belief that we are all a part of the body of Christ to the secular understanding that everything from poverty to disease to environment connected, we have many ways to engage in conversation about this largely agreeable fact.  But turning this conversation to unified action is very difficult.  Why?

Because live in a world where attempts to address issues, bring solutions and bring justice are compartmentalized.  Most non-profits focus on specific causes and needs, segregated by income, race, geography, or disease.  The fact that our world is interconnected with each part effecting the other seems to fall by the wayside.  Many of these well-meaning efforts are also deeply entrenched in a bureaucracy that is rigid, resistant to change and is more focused on institutional survival than mission-completion.

I was talking recently with folks about the kind of service and activism we engage in here at William Penn House.  It is always difficult to articulate exactly what we do here in familiar vernacular because we are not focused on one issue or another.  We truly believe that everything is interconnected.  We view our role as nurturing greater consciousness. A few years ago, we embraced the term "radical hospitality" to define our work.  It fits nicely with our belief that there is that of God/goodness in all, and as we build relations based on this deep faith in each other, good things and a more peaceful world emerge.  What this also does is affirm another aspect of a fairly universal belief: all people have  But in the world of social justice and social service with countless compelling issues, especially in a town that has hundreds if not thousands of cause organizations, it can feel isolating.

We also live in a world of finite resources.  The waters that flow around us now are the same waters that have flowed since the dawn of time, albeit now much more toxic and yet needing to nourish more people than ever.  Our capacity to absorb garbage is seriously limited.  The fossil fuels that take thousands of years to create are being depleted within decades.  We also work against ourselves with health issues - making healthcare extremely expensive while supporting unhealthy nutrition and health habits, and not using all the resources (such as self-testing for HIV) to encourage people to do for themselves what they can, instead fostering a dependency on others.  We basically keep going back to this notion that we have endless pockets of material reserves, that we can talk about the needs magically meeting the needs of others while continuing with our own over-consumption.

But there is a resource that is unlimited - our capacity to care for and love each other, and to do so with at least an effort of grace, rather than ego.   In attempting to live this way, I have also learned to appreciate a Jewish way of doing things that is build on concentric circles: we start in our immediate surroundings, tendign to the things closest to us (such as the environmental work in our backyard, being in fellowship at Capitol Hill Methodist Church's morning breakfast with many who are unhoused) and going out from there, never ending but not starting with a vision fixed on a far-away place that ignores those around us.

In doing this, we really see how it all is interconnected.  Tapping into these limitless resources of compassion that is good work, even if it does feel lonely at times in a society where material things continue to be the idols of worship.

What Workcamps mean to me

Thoughts on relationships and the Workcamp experience

by Mark Sundermeyer

In its truest form, a work camp is something that goes beyond providing a service. Far too often service is viewed as doing something to help someone, when the reality of the benefit is mutual and harmonious. When we look beyond the simple task of service, when we create meaningful and lasting relationships with those that we work with, those relationships color our view of the world and our place within it. 

1. Relationships

Building relationships with the people that we are working for and with is the heart of the Workcamp experience, without it, Workcamps are simply physical acts of service. Through several trips to Caretta, West Virginia, I developed relationships with some of the people we were working with, relationships with people that I would never have imagined I would come into contact with, much less become friends with. These relationships transcended any preconceived notions that I may have had about the people of Caretta and caused me to look inward and examine how I fit in with this group of people. Surprisingly, I had very little trouble feeling at one with the community. It became clear to me that there was very little difference, if any between the people of Caretta and myself. This realization is paramount to the Workcamp experience and one that is directly in tune with Quaker philosophy. Building relationships with those that we work with allows us to see that of God in everyone, including ourselves.

2. Bearing Witness

Another key aspect of the Workcamp is the simple experience of immersing oneself in another person’s life and struggles. This may be the most underrated part of the Workcamp, and does not require a physical outcome, but is surely a powerful component. In my trips to New Orleans in the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, I began to notice that simply viewing someone’s struggle could be affirming to even the most devastated victim. I am reminded of a sign I saw in the lower 9^th ward that read,

“This is what has happened to us,

We have lost loved ones and our homes,

See this devastation and know that this is our struggle.”

People’s struggles go unnoticed in the blur of news media that engulfs us everyday. Simply acknowledging the depths and seriousness of people’s struggles is something that ties directly into our relationships with the people that we work with. If we cannot understand what other people have been through, then the work we do is nothing more than a favor. When we bear witness, we can begin to see parallels to our own lives. It is not a belittling parallel, but rather a unifying experience that solidifies our relationships. To bear witness is not limited to struggles; bearing witness is a holistic practice that includes seeing the joy in people’s lives as well. When we can truly understand each other, our sorrows, our joys, then we can begin to create meaningful relationships. This is the power of the Workcamp.  

Through the experience of creating relationships and bearing witness in service, the Workcamp gains meaning on an internal level. When service is no longer viewed as something that is done to someone else, but as a mutual exchange of experience, both parties leave the Workcamp changed and with a better understanding of their selves and one another. This change may not be predictable but it surely is a strong one. For me, this change was a gradual awareness; I began to see in my life in a different light over the course of many Workcamps as I built relationships with people and places. To the best of my ability, I began to see people as they truly were, not defined by a single struggle, but as a whole person. When Workcamps focus on building meaningful relationships and bearing witness, i.e. working in a place for more than a day, and not just painting or building, then the outcome of the Workcamp will be such that people will naturally be drawn to service, a truer service, one that would be immediately relevant and powerful in their lives.

Israel and Palestinian Peace: What are the goals?

Since returning from the delegation trip to Israel and Palestine in early November, I have given 3 subsequent presentations about what I saw and learned, and included these learnings in a series of other presentations last week on global human rights issues.  Each time I presented and was asked questions, I learned even more about the challenges of advancing human rights in a world of institutional activism that often dehumanizes people by painting groups with broad brushes, blurring vital differences.

As I had learned from speakers in the Mideast, the goals of the peace movements are not clear.  One spokesperson (from the Israeli Coalition Against Home Demolitions) stated that his goal is to keep the hopes of the Palestinians alive "until they figure out what they want."  Then there is the  Boycott, Divestment, Sanctions (BDS) movement that has 3 stated goals, one of which is "Respecting, protecting and promoting the Rights of Palestinian refugees to return to their homes and properties as stipulated in UN Resolution 194", which was written in 1948. (The Kairos Palestine Document echoes the same sentiment.)  But there is disagreement among the BDS leaders about what this means.  One co-founder stated unequivocally that this means he has the right to get his grandparents property back and kick all the people who have lived their for as much as 3 generations.  Another leader stated that this is not a realistic goal in the 21st century but should be the spirit in which negotiations are made.  I personally suspect that "right of return" is no more likely than Rapid City, SD being given back to the Lakotas, but I also have not heard much conversation about how this would play out.  For some it seems to be the goal, and for others it's an absolute deal-breaker.

Then, yesterday, there was this posting by a Quaker from Annapolis who is living in the Mideast.  He wrote about the "Principles of Peace", part of the Geneva Accord that is supposed to be the model for peace between Israelis and Palestinians.  The first of these principles is "End of Conflict; End of All Claims."  This is the kicker among peace advocates for this region: there is a global, widespread call for peace and justice, including from Israelis and Palestinians.  But does this vision of peace include "End of All Claims" or "Right of Return"?  If it's the latter, does this include not only Palestinians displaced in 1948, but Jews from Hebron who were relocated to Jerusalem by the Brits in 1929 with a promise of right of return?

A conservative friend of mine said to me recently he is fascinated by how the desire for peace in the Mideast is dividing liberals.  I am increasingly believing it is because we can get caught up in movements that, on the surface, simply want peace but actually have very different views of what that looks like.  "End of All Claims" or absolute "Right of Return" are gulfs apart.  By signing on to the BDS movement, we are being asked to endorse "Right of Return" whether we know it or not. It's unfortunate.  I think we could rapidly find greater harmony in pushing for bringing an end to the settlements, home demolitions and occupations, and for equality for Palestinians in Israel (the other 2 goals of the BDS movement), but we have to be diligent and aware of what is being attached to this. Many good bills in our own congress are shot down because of suspect attachments.  "Right of Return" plays the same role in peace efforts for the Mideast.

Workcamp Nuts and Bolts

By Josh Wilson, Intern

After a programming and Workcamps committee meeting we had last month, it really made us here at William Penn House continue to evaluate the nuts and bolts of what a Workcamp is. While everything listed here certainly helps to make a Workcamp experience great, I can’t account for every Workcamp ever, so you’ll just have to bear with me. So what makes a great Workcamp experience? Well I am glad you asked that, dear reader.

A Workcamp in its truest and best form, I feel, is sort of like a crash course in how to form a community. Through all the sweat and work that they consist of, Workcamps truly compel us to recognize our common humanity. First of all, no one looks good while sweating doing gardening work or fixing a house. Old ugly clothes that are meant to be ruined certainly diminish any need or fear of superficial comparisons. Alongside ugly clothes, however, you’re going to have to pack whole case of humble pie. As with the most-likely home-cooked meals meant to fill ten to twenty people, you’re going to be eating plenty of it. Through the experience you’re going to learn that not all of your complaints are best for the group and that sometimes, the needs of someone else are connected with your own.

Secondly it is important to recognize that we as individuals have our own needs. Through recognizing our needs and those we serve, we can truly begin to piece together the human experience that we all share. During one Workcamp, we all gathered together for some worship sharing. One of our campers then said something quite enlightening, she stated that it’s nice to care for someone else for a change, but also it is better to recognize that sometimes its good to let others care for you too. By recognizing your own needs, you recognize your space in the community. By recognizing what it is you truly need and not just what you want, you’ll be a better member to the group.

Another important thing to know is to go into the experience with an open mind. Know that we all can learn something from almost any experience. With this in mind, soon you’ll realize that the unexpected is going to happen. Maybe that job you really hated at the beginning becomes something you start to relish at the end. We often help an older gentleman who is almost entirely dependent on a wheel chair. His house is a little old and he is rather soft spoken. During one Workcamp, some of the kids asked him more about his background and through further conversations we came to learn that he had been a cryptographer during the Cold War and had a slew of interesting stories. By opening up and allowing yourself to receive sometimes you might just find something new and exciting you never thought possible. 

Finally, keep in mind the things you learn in a Workcamp all lead to something greater in your life down the line. I once read that no matter how mundane something you do or read is, it all leads to something later on in your life as really useful knowledge. In the end all the information you pick up is going to contribute to your personality.  While you might not achieve individual perfection today, we at William Penn House hope it brings you a little closer to the kind of person you’d like to be. In the end what you put into the experience is what you’ll get out of it. Spiritually and experientially, with effort and motivation you’ll find the experience much more enjoyable when you put your heart into it. 

A good Workcamp will change you, and a good Workcamp will help you to truly recognize your place at the multi-faceted national and local level. An amazing Workcamp will help you to connect with the individuals you serve as well as to create strong bonds with those you do service.

Faith, Hope and Love: Closing Reflections from Israel/Palestine

At our last delegation meeting last Friday afternoon, we had lunch with Rev. Dr. Mitri Rahib, one of the writers of the Kairos Document.  This document was written by Palestinian Christian leaders in the model of the Kairos South Africa Document bringing together peace makers to address oppression and apartheid.

During the lunch - in a beautiful setting in Bethlehem - Dr. Rahib quoted from Corinthians that "there are these three things that endure: Faith, Hope and Love."  He went on to reflect that faith - more specifically the institutions of religion - are at the core of much of the violence we have seen throughout the world. He comments as well that love becomes increasingly challenged in the face of violence and oppression.  Hope, however, "is not what we do, but what we see."  

As I look back on my time in this beautiful land with all its conflicts and desires - human, cultural, economic, religious and political - it is where there were voices of hope that I remember being most energized.  It is not that these folks could not see the what was going on around them; in many ways I think they could see more clearly what was going on.  But through all this, they saw hope.  It was not that they could hope or wish their realities away (from the kibbutz within missile range of Gaza to the olive farmer in Birqeen); it was their insistence on not giving into anger and despair - committing to welcoming people in while reaching ever-further out.  They shared a wisdom that our politicians are not our messiahs (a lesson to remember on this election day in comparison to what many felt four years ago.)

Now that I am back in DC and sifting through the emotional, intellectual and spiritual rubble of the past two weeks, I want to put my energy into those places that see hope, not problems and solutions that I suspect will lead to more conflict if they lack hope.  There is going to have to be lots of give and take in this epic struggle over there.  For those of us here in the states, it might also be a good opportunity to practice seeing hope here at home, no matter how things play out today.  If we can't practice it here, what can our realistic expectations be over there?

Visible and Invisible Walls of Oppression

• 25% higher high school dropout rates
• Huge standardized test performance discrepancies, often reflecting a cultural bias
• Discrepancies in unemployment and pay rates
• Few opportunities to escape oppression but with a gun, either in crime or military service
• Pervasive militarism
• Unjust and unequal uses of the legal and penal system to perpetuate cultural and real violence

These are some of the common narratives that have been told here in Israeli/Palestine.  Before I proceed further, let me clearly state that this posting is not to excuse any bad and abusive atrocities by the Israeli Military or settlers against Palestinians. But as I hear these tails of injustice, I can't help but think we have these same narratives in the US, and by not seeing these, we are going to be challenged to get to the root causes of division that lead us all the way through the spectrum of violence.

When I have mentioned this to some people in the delegation, they say "well at least we have laws to prevent this in the states."  This provides absolutely no comfort to me.  It feels like we are saying "sorry our society is so unjust, abusive, violent and prejudiced, but we will give a pass on accountability because we mean well."  To take comfort in laws while ignoring the outcomes misses the real hard work - the same work that we seem to be expecting to be done in Israel, as if we are better practitioners.  Our walls in the states are just as entrenched, just more invisible.  Here's my take on how our walls of segregation and prejudice play out in the states, despite our laws:

• Laws are one thing.  Enforcement and access to laws is another.  Basically one's ability to have the law work for them has a direct connection to how much money they have to pay a good lawyer.  The economic injustice prevails.
• We may not have blatant walls and checkpoints, but we have rivers, tunnels, bridges and trains.  These often serve as real and symbolic barriers to segregation and access, and used in a myriad of ways.  In DC, there is the "east of the river" concept.  Train stops, as another example, are sometimes lacking (in the case of Georgetown) to keep some people out, while in other places in DC make getting to a low-paying job an ordeal.  
• Inner-city violence and rural drug addiction have a direct connection to poor funding for schools, high unemployment and racism/elitism (consider how we classify people in the Appalachias as "hicks").
• Our prison system is another tool of legalized segregation and injustice, where blacks account for 44% of the incarcerated population.  Those corrupt corporate elite who ruin countless lives in the name of greed walk freely (and in luxury), while those who suffer from their greed are stuck in cycles of violence, abuse, unemployment, addiction and debt all over the country. 
• The cultural violence is also reflected in higher suicides and murders in many places or among certain groups.  The government/military doesn't have to do it because we do it to ourselves while the rich and powerful thrive.
• Military indoctrination?  Considering that military service is one of the last remaining ways youth can escape the cycles of poverty in their communities all over the world, we have that.  Furthermore, we don't call people dedicated to breaking the cycles of violence in the name of peace "heroes"; we save that for the troops, and do it persistently in everything from sports announcements to priority boarding on airplanes.  Americorps folks don't get that. 
• While we don't have home occupations and settlements, we do have predatory loans, right of public domain, and suburban expansionism into rural communities that often displace people.  One Palestinian farmer here, for example, turned down a "name your price" offer for his farm.  He could have been rich.  He chose to stay and fight in a very peaceful and honorable way.  It's inspiring, and I wish more in the states would be so principled, but he also could have been rich.  To me, this is less an example of a victim as a noble person.  

This is not a "tit-for-tat" issue to me.  It's an attempt to normalize the all-too-common narrative that takes place in Israel/Palestine, Washington DC, West Virginia, New Orleans, Pine Ridge, you name it.  Internationally, I see the same in rural Kenya.  The oppressor has a foot on the neck of the oppressed.  In places like the US, it is done so brilliantly that we hardly notice it.  This is not meant to say "so just accept it", but to say "let's unite."  To say "at least we have better laws" does not promote that unity.  Let's not look at the laws; let's look at the outcomes and come together with greater passion and wisdom that we are all in this fight together.   I believe the change will come when we stop competing for who has the greatest victim narrative.  When those of us in places of privilege deem that the suffering of a group across the oceans is worse than that of those around us, it raises questions and concerns about what we are saying about the value of all people.  However, when truly start relating as equals with a commitment to move forward together, that's when I think we will see our way to greater global justice.

War, Peace and Flipping Coins

On Monday evening (Oct. 29), our IFPB delegation split up into small groups and spent the night with host families in the ancient walled city of Acco on the Mediterranean.  My travel roommate, Deklan, and I were staying with the family of Yosef a few blocks from the water.  We were joined by Laura and Art who were staying with Yosef’s brother, Ahmed, closer to the water.  The dinner conversation was lively, as we bantered back and forth about historical facts and comparative narratives of injustice and violence – present as well as historical – all around the world. 

After dinner, Deklan, Yosef and I went for a walk.  Deklan asked Yosef how he thinks things will unfold between the Palestinians and Israelis.  “War” was his calm, somewhat sad, answer.  For him it is clear that the only way to avoid war is to return to the 1967 borders but is not going to happen.  He was clear that he does not want war, but he just doesn’t see an alternative.   I reflected my own faith that where there are signs of hope, we can help lessen the violence.  Deklan’s stance was that the Israelis simply need to stop with the lows and policies that keep the Palestinians as second class (or worse) citizens.  It’s as easy as “flipping a coin”, he said. 

“War, Peace or a coin toss”, mused Yosef.  I am increasingly thinking that it is going to be some combination of all of these.  There is already violence – blatant as well as systemic – and to reverse these will take effort and certainly some luck. If, as Yosef said, there will be no peace until there is a return to the 1967 borders, there is no way there without the upheaval of at least 500,000 settlers, many of whom are not likely to go peacefully and will be backed by many Israelis.  At the same time, many Palestinians are not enamored with their own leadership, so even if the Palestinians were to gain autonomy, I would expect a battle for power from within as well.  And then, of course, there is the insidious systemic nature of violence, as evidenced y the US-supported military destruction followed by US-funded rebuilding.  It’s a great economic machine.  It’s a mess.

As I start to reflect on my time here, I don't see groups of people.  I see the faces of individual humans, many of whom are caught up in the daily challenge of human survival.  I am awed by the beauty and the passions in these individual struggles, while shuddering at our capacity to dehumanize each other to the point of annihilation in some cases.  There is Yosef, with his exasperation of  constant arrests and harassment for speaking out but also his friendly hospitality.  There is his wife, and her somewhat defensive and unnecessary statement that Palestinians just want to support life.  There is 23-year old Mahmoud’s spirit of hope for the future while including me in a Palestinian bachelor party with festive music and dancing.  There are the sincere desires and demonstrations of a commitment to find a peaceful way forward from the members of kibbutz communities.  There are Roi and Rwan, a Jew and a Palestinian (his grandparents came to Israel in the 1930's because of anti-semitism in one case and zionism in the other; her grandparents village was wiped out in 1948) working together to bring cross-cultural learning to Jewish and Arab schools as part of their work at the Arab-Jewish Community Center in Tel Aviv.  There are organizations creating new ways forward through theater and community outreach.  And then there are people who hate, fear, resent or wish to harm the neighbor they don’t know.   

I have hope that, if we stay connected and keep acting in ways that support the common humanity of each other through the upheavals, we can come back together as a stronger global community.  Just as I believe will happen in the US as we struggle with all our various prejudices and practices of injustice past and present, my hope is that our descendants can sit around the dinner table, sharing meals from all our faiths and cultures,  celebrate each other rather than try to lord over each other, and look to the past wondering "what the heck were they thinking?"  Yes, it’s ideal, but we can start practicing now so when the opportunity comes, we are ready.  As Whitney Young said “it’s better to prepare for the opportunity that may not come, then to have an opportunity emerge, and not be prepared.”