April 3, 2002
We are all Palestinians
Roxanne R. Amico
Last Saturday (30 March, 2002), while doing the weekly silent vigil for peace, aka, Women in Black, the line was approached by a few people, as we usually are, looking for more info about us. We have an agreement in the group that if anyone approaches the line of folks standing in silence, someone either steps out of line to speak to the person(s), or one of the folks already out of the line—like one passing out flyers—approaches the new-comer...(This maintains the informal silence we are demonstrating, while also making it possible to connect with and answer people's questions.)
One man stood very still, near the woman (who was standing in the line) who gave him the flyer. I spotted him on my way back from the street where I passed out flyers to car passengers. I approached him with a smile and said hello. I paused for his response to my greeting.
My breath caught in my throat when I realized that he was so still because he was choking back tears, when he said, "I came to thank you for doing this."
Then he said, "I am Palestinian."
We stepped aside and talked a little while, but mostly I was dumbfounded. I said "I am sorry", when he told me his family is there. I asked how they were. He said "I just spoke with them...They said that they expect the Israeli army to be in Gaza by tomorrow night. [Sunday night]."
He was having difficulty speaking...but he found a way to ask how it is possible that the world can seem to be going completely insane...How "Americans" can be so ignorant about what is going on in the world and what the U.S. government is allowing to happen and supporting. He said this is why he had to come and see us.
I had no answer, felt sad and ashamed for what the Bush administration is doing and not doing. Then I remembered something said at a community forum at UB recently—one of the panelists said, "we are motivated not by shame or guilt, but out of a sense of responsibility"—and I felt gratitude that he at least knew he was not alone, and that there were others like us who were indeed using our voices for reasonable peaceful solutions. "War is not the answer." he said, and I nodded.Thinking of our cultural differences, I stopped myself from trying to give him a hug as he made his exit. Instead, I offered my hand and introduced myself. He matched my gesture. As I tried to pronounce his name, he watched my face, and then he mercifully gave me his business card, to aid me in saying it.
As I watched him drive off, I remembered that two weeks ago, a van full of Caucasian teenage boys drove by and one of them spit on me while accepting a flyer. I remembered another young white man saying to me, while his girlfriend accepted the flyer, "Kill all the Taliban." I remembered that if I were to do a true tally of the supporters and hecklers of the vigil, that the majority of the responses are positive and supportive, like this man's, and I wanted to tell him this...wanted the conversation to continue. He waved as he passed, and I held up my hand in the universal peace sign.
Women in Black meets every Saturday from noon to one p.m. on Elmwood Avenue at Bidwell Parkway. This silent vigil of people wearing black was begun in Buffalo in October, when the Bush Administration began the bombing of Afghnistan. It's called Women in Black because it was begun by women in Israel in the '80's, when Israel occupied the Gaza strip. Women wearing black appeared and stood in silence, as a public presence to demonstrate for nonviolent alternatives to conflict in the face of war and terrrorism. We stand in a line and, (if we choose to) hold signs of specific peace in all regions in the world, on all sides of all conflicts. All people are welcome to join us...no one need be a member of any organization, group, or gender.
go to Buffalo Report web site
©2002 Roxanne R. Amico