A Taste of Dialogue

1

Sixteen teenagers walked into a small, plain room containing nothing but windows and chairs arranged in a circle. It's highly doubtful that any of them expected to be sitting with such a group of people earlier in their lives. Why? This group consisted of four Jewish Israelis, four Muslim Palestinians, two Arab Israelis, two Jewish Americans, two Muslim Jordanians, one Atheist Brittan, and one Muslim Egyptian. Not exactly people known to be the best of friends, especially considering where they come from and their beliefs.

It was the first time they had entered this room and as they did, a sudden silence took over for none knew how this would turn out; it was obvious it won't be easy.

As the two facilitators entered everyone automatically took a seat; the Arabs to one side of the circle and the "others" to the second. As the facilitators took their seats between the opposite sides, they looked around with a knowing smile, as if they were in on a secret no one else had yet discovered. Then they began,

"Good morning everyone!" One of them said opening her notebook while murmurs of 'morning' were heard in return.

"We will start this off by a simple question," The other stated as he looked around at the tense teens surrounding him. "Why are you here?"

You could hear chairs shifting and eyes looking around to see who would start. After a full minute of silence a hesitant feminine voice spoke up,

"Umm, I think it's good to know what those whom I've always been told are my enemies' side is." The Egyptian girl said sitting a bit higher in her chair as she talked and maintaining eye contact with the facilitators.

"And whom exactly might those enemies be?" The facilitator asked as she took notes.

The girl shifted a couple of times in her seat, looked around at her group remembering how they had just been playing team work exercises not even fifteen minutes ago, and then after taking a deep breath answered in a somewhat small voice, "The Israelis."

The facilitator nodded and then looked at the Israelis whom sat next to each other; two of which were now avoiding contact with the Egyptian girl, one whom looked thoughtful knees bobbing up and down, while the last simply gave her a small, almost bitter smile.

"And how does that make the Israelis in the group feel?" She asked slowly and calmly as if talking to a child, waiting for her words to sink in.

More shifting, the only sounds filling the room were those of plastic chair legs moving against wooden floors. They all looked to one another, then each gave an answer,

"Bad," One said simply.

"Misunderstood,"

"Interested to know what my enemies side is as well, in this case the Arabs and Palestinians in particular."

"Interested to tell my own story."

"And what story is that, pray tell." A Palestinian girl remarked as she sat up straighter and pulled her hair away from her face. "Because if you want to here my story here it is; I never feel safe in my own home, I grew up in between wars, bloodshed and am always moving, never knowing what's going to happen next. All because you kicked my ancestors out of their land! How is it natural that a fifteen year old can tell you the difference between bombs by the sounds they make, because instead of being sung to peaceful sleep by lullabies, she slept to the falling of bombs?"

Silence fell once again for a second as everyone either looked speechless, or deep in thought. You could see that many were starting to fidget, everyone on defense mode sitting on the edge of their seat.

"We didn't kick anyone out of their land, we had agreed on a two state solution it's not our fault that you didn't!" An Israeli girl said.

The room didn't quiet down, but even while speaking you could hear people taking deeper breathes and see that quite a few had their hands in fists.

"Two state solution?" A Palestinian guy said in incredulity. "It was my home and you stole it! Of course I didn't want to settle for not even half of it!"

"Well that's why now you have only 22% of it," One of the Israeli guys muttered.

"It was never even yours!" One of the Israeli girls stated loudly causing the Egyptian girl to simply let out a quiet chuckle while shaking her head as the others – not noticing her – stared daggers at one another.

"What do you mean it was never theirs?" A Jordanian guy asked with a raised eyebrow. "Palestine existed before Israel ever had."

"The land did sure, but it was never ruled by Palestinians." The girl said straightening her posture. Right then a bell rang signifying that the session was half over.

A quiet sniffle was suddenly heard and everyone stopped to look at the source. One of the Israeli girls had tears in her eyes and tried to wipe them away from the attention she was getting. One of the Americans was crying as well however had kept her head bent and shifted her chair a bit away from the circle in order not to be in the spotlight.

For a second everything stopped. Almost everyone got out of their seat and went to ask the girl if she was okay and get her a cup of water and tissues with what had neared absolutely no hesitation. For in that moment she was simply a girl in need, a human in need. Not her country, not her beliefs, only her.

"Can everyone retake their seats please?" The facilitator said in a loud voice causing everyone to leave the girl after rechecking that she was fine. "I can see that there is a lot going through your mind, care to share it with us?" He asked her softly.

"I-It's just," She sniffled. "It's hard to hear all those people telling me that it's not my country or that I'm their enemy. If any of them studied history at all they'd know how my ancestors were treated, how I would have been treated had I stayed. I mean do they not remember the holocaust? The army is just protecting its people and our land was rightfully deserved; we need a safe place." She said between tears as if willing others to understand her stance.

"What do you feel about that, since you obviously have things to say?" He asked the American who was still silently crying.

She looked up, realizing she wasn't as invisible as she had intended and after a few looks and mouthing "I'm OK" to those whom had silently asked she answered in a shaky voice, "I am not an Israeli, but I am Jewish. However, even if I don't live there, whenever I picture Israel I see – as was said before me – a safe place; a haven of sort. After all the things we've been through I agree with the fact that we deserve a place to stay."

"So you deserved a safe place, fine." A Jordanian interrupted. "But at what price? Turning other's safe place into a nightmare? Killing them by the thousands while only fifty of your men die. Is that all okay? Is any of that fair?"

The Egyptian girl once again shook her head and crossed her legs while they kept shaking. "It's sad that we feel the need to compare lives." She said quietly knowing full well that only a few heard her. The British guy looked her in the eyes and nodded in understanding then focused back on his lap where he listened, but stayed quiet.

"I did not say that!" The girl defended in between tears and shaky breathes. "I'm just saying that I wouldn't know what to do had I not had this place to look to. I don't want Palestinians to die – of course not – but if some should in order for Israel to survive without fear or possible threats for its own people, then it's just doing its job to maintain its country."

Right then the second bell rang signaling the end of their first dialogue session of many. Everyone hesitantly stood up and then one by one went to those whom were crying and hugged them. Somehow after a moment it turned to everyone just hugging each other – almost no words exchanged, for none were needed – and then, arms intertwined or around each others' shoulders exited the room.

One thought ran through all their minds at that moment, something they each promised themselves; what happens in that room, stays in that room...at least for now. Whether that promise will hold though is for each to decide.