Inauguration Day

Dear President Obama,

I cannot watch the inauguration live today. I must do something else. I must go to a street corner on this cold snowy day and stand.

On this great day, we are reminded of much history. You have focused our attention on the past. That attention is deserved. You have made us look to Abraham Lincoln whose inauguration you are mimicking and whose inauguration was fraught with security issues, as yours is, for a great Civil War was about to begin.


Lincoln placed his hand to take the oath of office on a Bible that had been purchased by the clerk of the Supreme Court and whose inscription on the flyleaf attests to the fact. You are using that one, too.


There are other things to remember today. Awful things are there that we could remember. I searched the internet to remind myself. I saw a picture of a slave who had run away from Mississippi and joined the Union troops at Baton Rouge. He had run away previously, been caught and whipped mercilessly. Still he ran again, not just to find freedom, but to aide the Union troops in bringing freedom to all the people of his race. This is worth remembering, too.

Tuesdays, women in Knoxville put on black clothes and stand on the street corner in front of the federal building. They do it rain, snow, or shine. They do it because freedom isn't finished. Below is a letter from an Israeli woman. It explains why she stands in Israel, at a Palestinian checkpoint to guard whatever remnants of freedom exist there. We stand because it is all we can do from this point on the globe, to call for a kind, and dignified, and peaceful solution to the conflict between the Israelis and the Palestinians. I'm writing you today because during the next four years you will be able to do more than I will. I'm asking you to do it.



Congratulations! May this day, for you, be one of joy and remembrance.

Betsy DeGeorge
Woman in Black

Beloved Israel

Dear Josh,

In a recent post comment you raised a good question for those of us who live in a place where we cannot see Israel with our own eyes and for those of us who are very much in favor of a place for Israel on our globe. Those of us who hate oppression of any kind, I think, have warm and tender feelings for the people group which has, through history, received the most cruel treatment—the children of Israel.

I would not, for a minute, wish ill for the nation of Israel. In fact, it is for that very reason that I responded when my Jewish friends who are involved in the organization Women in Black asked me to join them in weekly "protests" calling for peace with justice in Palestine. One of those Jewish friends recently tried to visit Israel and Palestine, but she was refused entrance because, on her itinerary, it stated that she wished to visit areas in the West Bank that are in crisis. These areas have come to be known as "occupied areas." The Longstreths, a husband/wife medical team from San Diego did make that visit this past summer. The following link takes you to a description of what they observed.
http://www.counterpunch.org/longstreth09012007.html

Here is another piece written by Seth Freedman in the Jerusalem Post.

When I say that I wish no ill for Israel, that does include my belief that the worst ill is doing evil, not being the recipient of evil. It is terrible to be oppressed. It is worse to be an oppressor. It is terrible to be victimized. It is worse to be a victimizer.

Palestinians include both Christian and Muslim individuals. Most of the Palestinians I know here in Knoxville are Christians. Some are Muslim. Both groups are equally oppressed in Palestine. Jewish, Christian, and Muslim women here are working together for the same goal. Peace with Justice in Palestine.

As I think of this, my mind randomly jumps to two things. One is Psalm 137. It is not the words of this Psalm that are "dead on," but the emotion.

By the waters of Babylon,
there we sat down and wept,
when we remembered Zion.
On the willows there
we hung up our lyres.
For there our captors required of us songs,
and our tormentors, mirth, saying,
"Sing us one of the songs of Zion!"
How shall we sing the Lord's song
in a foreign land?

Palestinian, Jew, American, Muslim, Josh, Betsy--we all can sing this song when we are tormented or far from home. Humans understand this sentiment.

I am reminded, too, of the book I finished last night. The End by Lemony Snicket. Yes, I have finished the last book of the Series of Unfortunate Events, the sad tale of the Baudelaire children. I am fascinated by this study of good and evil written for the 12 year old crowd. As this book points out, the world is a complicated place and one does not do noble things without doing a fair share of treacherous ones. That is certainly happening in Israel. I pray that the leaders of the government there will become more self aware, introspective, and realize that they are investing in too much treachery and too little nobility in relation to the Palestinian population. If they do not, they will find that though they are in The Lord's land, the timbre of the lyres will be sour indeed.

Betsy

Ertas, a Sacred Place Below Ephrathah

Dear Jacob,

"As I was returning from Paddan, to my sorrow Rachel died in the land of Canaan while we were still on the way, a little distance from Ephrath. So I buried her there beside the road to Ephrath." Genesis 48:7

Ephrathah. . . since you, Jacob, buried your well loved Rachel in this ground, it has been sacred. It was sacred to you because you lost the love of your life. Looking at it from my perspective, I'd say you lived a primitive life in which you treated women like property and you earned her with the sweat of your brow. I might be tempted to say you didn't really know love because you were a male chauvinist pig. But love is a funny thing and can even creep up on chauvinists in primitive cultures. So you loved her like you loved no other (even though there were others.) Of course the ground is sacred, like the ground where we work out all of our loves, like the homes where we live out those loves, and like the people with whom we stake out our paltry existences.

"I will not enter my house or get into my bed; I will not give sleep to my eyes or slumber to my eyelids, until I find a place for the Lord, a dwelling place for the Might One of Jacob. Lo, we heard it in Ephrathah, we came upon it in the fields of Jaar." Psalm 132:6

Ephrathah. . . it has been sacred since, here, David said he found a dwelling place for the LORD. David stayed up late over this. He wanted a home, a cozy place for God, and found it in Ephrathah. Of course it's sacred. Sacred and cozy.

"But you, Bethlehem Ephrathah, though you are small among the clans of Judah, out of you will come for me one who will be ruler over Israel, whose origins are from of old, from ancient times." Micah 5:2

Ephrathah. . . With every "Away in the Manger," we are reminder that this is holy ground. The cattle are lowing about it. Emmanuel set his flag right here on the sacred stones of Ephrathah. It doesn't get any better than this.

So, it is the sacredness then that makes it right to rape and pillage a land? Is it because God doesn't think apricots are sacred? And God's house, isn't it big enough for Palestinians too? Was Jesus, precious lamb, not serious when he said "For there is no difference between Jew and Gentile—the same Lord is Lord of all and richly blesses all who call on him."

"For my eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared in the sight of all people, light for revelation to the Gentiles and for glory to your people Israel." Luke2:30-32



I'm afraid, brother Jacob, that the land is sacred no more. When humans embrace their own neighbors only with giant shovels and Caterpillars, it is death to the sacred. The place will be holy no more, for the light has gone out in Zion. The Lord will move his dwelling place to Ertas where he will sit with the sorrowful* and throw dust on his head.

Sadly,

Betsy

*Note: the sorrowful include many Israeli people who join with the Palestinian owners of this land to protest the actions of the Israeli government and army.

Carter on US Policy on Palestinians

Dear President Carter,

Thank you for speaking out clearly and strongly on this subject. Did I ever tell you that you are the reason I became a registered Democrat. I must admit, I'm not dyed-in-the-wool and that if I were to describe myself politically I would probably say I'm a socialist, but I'd still vote for you. Will you run?

As a Woman in Black I have stood with the women in this photo in front of the Duncan federal building on Tuesdays here in Knoxville, TN. We have a silent presence that raises a persistent request to the federal government. Please, act for peace in Palestine. (I must note here with respect and appreciation. Our congressman Jimmy Duncan--son of Duncan of federal building fame--was one of the few Republican legislators, one of the few legislators on either side of the aisle who voted against the war of aggression in Iraq. Thank you Congressman Duncan!)

The Irish Times stated, "President Carter, a Nobel Peace Prize winner who was addressing a human rights conference in Croke Park, also said the Bush administration's refusal to accept Hamas' 2006 election victory was 'criminal.'" This is not the first time the US leadership has moved into the realm of what could be described as criminal, also immoral, war-mongering, disrespectful for humanity, insane. . .

I could rant on. But I want to thank you again, and ask you to continue working, using your voice and the well deserved influence that you possess, for reasonable peace in Israel, Palestine, and our world.

Respectfully,

Betsy DeGeorge

Women in Black Knoxville Year 5

Dear Women in Black,

Thank you!


Women in Black members have stood silently (or almost silently) in front of the Duncan Federal Building in Knoxville, TN, every Tuesday since April 8, 2002, to mourn the deaths caused by violence between Palestinians and Israelis. The group calls for an end to what it considers Israel's illegal occupation of the West Bank and Gaza.

Composed of Christian, Muslim and Jewish women, as well as women from other faiths, the group is part of an international movement started in 1988 by Israeli women.

A poem with hope for peace and understanding.

Wandering Around an Albuquerque Airport Terminal

by Naomi Shihab Nye


After learning my flight was detained 4 hours, I heard the announcement:
If anyone in the vicinity of gate 4-A understands any Arabic, Please come to the gate immediately Well -- one pauses these days. Gate 4-A was my own gate. I went there.
An older woman in full traditional Palestinian dress, Just like my grandma wore, was crumpled to the floor, wailing loudly.
Help, said the flight service person. Talk to her.
What is her
Problem? we told her the flight was going to be four hours late and she Did this.

I put my arm around her and spoke to her haltingly.
Shu dow-a, shu- biduck habibti, stani stani schway, min fadlick, Sho bit se-wee?

The minute she heard any words she knew -- however poorly used - She stopped crying.

She thought our flight had been cancelled entirely.
She needed to be in El Paso for some major medical treatment the Following day. I said no, no, we're fine, you'll get there, just late,

Who is picking you up? Let's call him and tell him.
We called her son and I spoke with him in English.
I told him I would stay with his mother till we got on the plane and Would ride next to her -- southwest.

She talked to him. Then we called her other sons just for the fun of it.

Then we called my dad and he and she spoke for a while in Arabic and Found out of course they had ten shared friends.

Then I thought just for the heck of it why not call some Palestinian Poets I know and let them chat with her. This all took up about 2 hours.

She was laughing a lot by then. Telling about her life. Answering Questions.

She had pulled a sack of homemade mamool cookies -- little powdered Sugar crumbly mounds stuffed with dates and nuts -- out of her bag -- And was offering them to all the women at the gate.

To my amazement, not a single woman declined one. It was like a Sacrament. The traveler from Argentina, the traveler from California, The lovely woman from Laredo -- we were all covered with the same Powdered sugar. And smiling. There is no better cookies.

And then the airline broke out the free beverages from huge coolers -- Non-alcoholic -- and the two little girls for our flight, one African

American, one Mexican American -- ran around serving us all apple juice And lemonade and they were covered with powdered sugar too.

And I noticed my new best friend -- by now we were holding hands --

Had a potted plant poking out of her bag, some

medicinal thing,

With green furry leaves. Such an old country traveling tradition. Always Carry a plant. Always stay rooted to somewhere.

And I looked around that gate of late and weary ones and thought, This is the world I want to live in. The shared world.
Not a single person in this gate -- once the crying of confusion stopped
-- has seemed apprehensive about any other person.

They took the cookies. I wanted to hug all those other women too.
This can still happen anywhere.

Not everything is lost.