The Power of Context

Read as an isolated struggle, the story of Peacemaker Sakena Yacoobi is impressive. Sakena founded the Afghan Institute of Learning (AIL) in 1995, the same year that the Taliban came to power. Her organization began “underground” and now serves 350,000 women and children annually.

Read in the context of Afghanistan’s recent history and current reality, Sakena’s story is astonishing. Last month I read Khaled Hosseini’s A Thousand Splendid Suns, a novel that describes the last thirty years in Afghanistan through the lives of two women. I was blown away thinking: this is the context of Sakena’s work.

Today, I read a Time Magazine article (”Afghanistan’s Girl Gap“) which notes that only 28% of Afghan teachers are women. In the article, the Afghan policy adviser for Oxfam, Matt Waldman, says , “It is absolutely crucial to increase the number of female teachers if you want to see more girls in school.” This is exactly what Sakena and AIL are doing. In addition to providing teacher training (and training in literacy, health, income generating activities, leadership, women’s rights and vocational skills), AIL is itself the employer of 470 Afghans, 83% of whom are women.

Four of my friends from graduate school are currently working in Afghanistan and even those personal ties do not make it possible for me to “get” what’s going on in this war zone. It occurred to me today that I need every article, every historical novel, every shred of information to help me to begin to appropriately value Sakena’s work. Still, as the story of contemporary Afghanistan unfolds, I know enough to be grateful for it.

Different Kinds of Difference

Recently our Executive Vice President, Joyce Dubensky, and I were interviewed by Rose Garrett, a writer for Education.com on the issue of religious diversity among young people.  One of the thoughts I had, and mentioned in the interview, is that there are different kinds of difference.  Having gone to a prep school here in New York, the first difference that I generally recognized was being one of a few Black students in the school.  I might also notice class depending on where we decided to have lunch that day.  So, from my high school years I would identify diversity with where I was different.  At Tanenbaum, we look through the particular lens of the difference of religion as it applies to diversity.  We don’t discount the other factors.  We can’t!  Yet I think there is value for all of us to continue to peel back the layers of what we call diversity and be critical about who’s different at any point in time.  Occasionally, someone will mention my ability to speak in front of people as something that makes me unique, different.  I have to wonder in those moments if I’m different from other Trainer/Educators? Different from other Black people?  Different from other Brooklynites?  Exactly how am I different?  And if I am different, where is the diversity?

Happy end of 2007!

Whatever you celebrate at this time of year, if anything, have a wonderful one - and best wishes for 2008.

We’ll see you next year!

Pure Gold

I have the pleasure of designing and delivering the training programs for Tanenbaum.  Whether it’s employees at Harvard or site coordinators from a local YMCA, people really want to follow the rules.  Not the rules of a workplace or an institution, but the golden rules.  They want to be kind.  They want to be curious without being insulting.  They want to be respectful.  They want to be respected.  They want for their colleagues want they want for themselves.  We are in a unique position to aid them in their journey.

 

I am inspired and encouraged as we approach year’s end that the search for gold is not limited to remote parts of countries I’ve never visited, or what’s on sale at major retailers as holiday gifts.  Rather the gold I see people searching for is the gold of being and living in a world that works for everyone, especially where religion is concerned.  It’s good to have something for my 2008 to do list – 1. Figure out how to help people be themselves and respect that in others.

Chanukah Sameach!

For all those who celebrate, a very Happy Chanukah!

Musings from Sarajevo

From Joyce Dubensky, Tanenbaum EVP:

Blogging is new to me, but the week with the Tanenbaum Peacemakers in Sarajevo was so powerful that I thought I’d try my hand at it.

For one thing, in Bosnia, the contrasts are striking and, frankly, unnerving.

It is clearly a post-conflict environment. But nearly at every turn, we encountered extraordinary beauty sitting side-by-side the remnants of yesterday’s war.

I remember when we arrived in Sarajevo, and got through immigration. There was my friend, Friar Ivo, greeting us with his colleagues (we gave each other bear hugs). We all piled into cars, and Peacemaker Ephraim Isaac and I joined Friar Ivo in his car. (In Bosnia, he isn’t called Father. He told Greg that during the communist era, it was dangerous to be recognized as a priest. But he also explained it to me by saying, “there is only one Father.” Thus, he is called “Uncle Ivo.”)

As we drove into Sarajevo, I couldn’t help notice the really, really bright yellow Hilton (I had never seen a bright yellow hotel before) – I later learned that it was where the reporters had stayed during the war.

Just after we passed it, the car stopped at a red light by a beautiful – almost quaint – square. I told Friar Ivo how beautiful it is. He pointed to a corner and then toward a hill opposite it. “They used to shoot from over there – they would hide behind the monuments in the Jewish cemetery. One day, I saw an old woman. She was walking. And then I saw her crumble to the ground. I wondered how they could shoot her? She is just an old woman.”

What are we doing here?

What exactly are we going to be doing here at Moving Beyond Differences? Hopefully, we’ll be starting up some interesting conversations and making connections. But for now, we thought it would be helpful to put this blog in context and explain a bit more about what you can expect to find here.

All our programs - conflict res, workplace, education, special programs - do a lot of training, presenting and public speaking. There’s usually a lot to talk about (once you create a safe space for people to discuss religion, you open the floodgates - no one wants to stop!). Almost inevitably, you’ll bring up questions and issues that we may not have time to explore as much as we’d like in the interest in making sure the group has the opportunity to cover all the material we have.

That’s where Moving Beyond Differences comes in. While we’ll always hang around to continue an unfinished conversation with you, the issues you bring up are probably issues that other people in your position - be you an HR specialist or 2nd grade teacher - are interested in too.

We’ll bring those questions and issues here and give you our take on them. Hopefully, you’ll get involved in the comments and provide your perspective, and we can have a conversation that will enrich us all.

Look out for an upcoming post on navigating the “December Dilemma.” In the meantime, use comments to let us know what you’d like to talk about.

Crossing the Faith Line

In retrospect, I wonder who I thought I’d meet at the Interfaith Youth Core “Crossing the Faith Line” conference back in October. I’m not sure. Maybe I hadn’t really thought about who I’d meet, but was rather more concerned with what I’d say. In the end, I met people of many ages, races, nationalities, ethnicities, genders, locations, religions, and belief systems. I met a mini-America. The participants were of a variety of political viewpoints as well—this was neither a “liberal” or a “conservative” crowd. The Interfaith Youth Core looks nothing like you probably think it does, though you probably don’t have a real clear view of what to think. Our country doesn’t have a well-publicized history of interfaith activism. The conference highlighted the reality of who and what an interfaith movement in the 21^st century U.S. looks like.

I facilitated a roundtable lunch session called “The Relevance of Religion in 21^st Century Curriculum,” and heard concerns about religious diversity in the classroom from educators from all over the country. Teachers, students, and administrators in a variety of settings are finding themselves in the midst of an explosion of diversity in their classrooms, and have not been trained in dealing with it. People are overwhelmed and overburdened, and often are searching for ways to bring students together in celebration of their differences in the face of the often negative messages students get from their surroundings about the meanings of certain differences. I took away a sense of growing hope that there are many Americans interested in healing the rifts between us, even though the process may cause some discomfort.

Selfishly, I must say that part of the pleasure I derived from the conference was purely personal- I enjoyed getting to know new people, many of whom are young and organizing on high school and college campuses across the nation, who are working to make our lives, schools, and towns more harmonious by teaching us how to speak and learn from each other. I was impressed by the grassroots efforts of students and, sometimes, their teachers to put religion on the radar. The feeling of the conference overall was incredibly harmonious, and being a representative of an organization like Tanenbaum, whose whole mission revolves around wanting to support the creation of safe spaces like it, I felt completely revitalized in my work.

If spaces like the conference, and organizations like IFYC, are developing and growing across the country, soon the national conversation around how to live together—in recognition of and respect for our myriad differences—will have to galvanize. IFYC’s work is a big step in the right direction.

*For more information on the Interfaith Youth Core, check out www.IFYC.org.

Our last day in Bosnia:

On the bus ride to Srebrenica, we read a day-by-day account of the massacre, organized by chronology and execution sites. Sheherazade shared a photocopy of the document with Joyce. And I shared a copy with Greg, pulling pages from the stapled packet and handing them to him across the aisle as I was done reading. “14^th-15^th of July 1995: Petkovići.” “14th-16^th of July 1995: Branjevo.”

The guides that work at the “Srebrenica-Potočari Memorial and Cemetery to Genocide Victims” all have relatives that are either buried on the memorial grounds or still missing. Etched in a large stone is the number 8,372 – the number missing or killed in Srebrenica. Less than 2,000 of this number have been buried in the memorial, and the process of recovering, identifying and burying continues. 

Before getting back onto the bus, I bought a postcard for a friend who spoke non-stop about Bosnia during our conflict resolution masters program. I thought about the fact that so many students of conflict and peace know about this small municipality named for its silver mines. People around the world feel connected to it, and they struggle to come to terms with pain that is so overwhelming even at great distance. And here we were, a few Tanenbaum staff and two Peacemakers (Chencho and Benny, who were staying a few extra days), privileged guests, witnesses to grief.

I’ve neglected to mention thus far that the bus was filled with members of the Pontanima Choir. This visit to Srebrenica has long been on their agenda, and we were honored that they would change the date so that we could join them. Our next destination was a community center, where an auditorium filled with children awaited. The choir’s performance and the bright faces of the children were a stark contrast with the imagery that is associated with this town; it was a jolt into the present – a time inhabited by both ghosts of the past and the spirit of the future.

It was wonderful to watch Friar Ivo interact with the children. He was so good with them – relating complex concepts about interreligious harmony in one moment, inviting them to clap along and sing in the next. I have a cd now of the Pontanima Choir, but when I listen to it, I don’t picture the fine red robes that I saw in the majesty of the Bosniak Institute. I picture these brave people laughing and singing for each other, bouncing along at the back of the bus. While I tried to sleep on the long ride back to Sarajevo, they seemed much more concerned with enjoying the time they had together.  

Day 6 of Retreat

The Bosnian (or Turkish or Greek, depending on who is serving) coffee was flowing early again for a second breakfast session with Joyce Dubensky. This one, on “Religion and Healthcare,” was just what the doctor ordered (couldn’t help the pun) for at least one participant, who was approached just this month to do programming in a hospital.

Sigh. And the next session on this Friday was the last session of the Retreat, the occasion to talk about “us” – this friendly and/or familial group – this “network” that has been again reformed, with new and old members, in the space and time of a week. Suffice to say that wisdom swirled around the room for a bit, and before we were ready it was time for lunch. One person suggested that this session – entitled “What is the Peacemakers Network? And how should we mobilize it?” – be the next topic for an entire Retreat. There’s just so much to talk about.

Sigh again. I had a great time with these people. These “religious peacemakers” who, in person, defy any attempt at quantifying or qualifying or boxing in what those two words might readily imply. And I know they had even more fun (and learning) with each other, as people who hold in common this loose but poignant phrase. It was nice that we went to what had become everyone’s favorite restaurant on this last day – a small, at times cooking stove smoke-filled room, that probably was someone’s kitchen/living room not too long ago. The location, in retrospect – now that I’m done laughing and devouring my “devri steak,” embodies a lot of what this week has been about: closeness, good coffee, and a for better or worse proximity to flames.

(Don’t go away; this was the last day of the Retreat; but there’s one more day of Tanenbaum in Sarajevo to come…)