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Being in the Question: Conflicting Narratives and Coherent Identity

Rebecca Shapiro

Classics Senior Seminar Beth Severy-Hoven

Advisor: Nanette Goldman Fall 2013

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“Sometimes it’s valuable to just be in the question, without trying to live

up to an answer.”

-Sara Ivanhoe, Yoga Instructor

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A recent New York Times article suggests that my generation is characterized by an unprecedented search for ‘meaningful work’.1 More than being successful in a traditional sense, we want to make a positive contribution to the world. So far, I’ve found my meaningful work as a yoga instructor working with plants. Though my Classics courses may not have provided me with hands-on experience in my field, I believe that we can bring meaning to all our work by meeting it with integrity. To do that, we’ve got to tear down walls and allow ourselves to be bigger than we thought possible. Big enough to encompass all we have been and all that we’ll be. The central guiding force in my life is the idea that I am a spiritual being having a human experience, one piece of an infinite web of consciousness. How do I reconcile this conviction with the rational, analytical world of academia, which is no less a part of how I experience the world? Sometimes it means bringing more of myself to class discussions. Sometimes it means pursuing projects that speak to me. Standing up in front of a room full of scientists and presenting, proudly, my work with Plant Spirit Yoga. I feel most fulfilled when I dwell in the intersection of my various passions and experiences, allowing them to both challenge and complement one another. For many years, one of my greatest sources of internal tension has been the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. Growing up, the dominant narrative in my community spoke of Israel as my home, a safe place, an embodiment of hope. To my Jewish community’s credit, it was also within the synagogue walls that I first learned of the                                                                                                                1  Smith, Emily E., and Jennifer L. Aaker. "Millennial Searchers." Sunday Review: The Opinion Pages. The New York Times, 30 Nov. 2013. Web. 13 Dec. 2013.  

Palestinian tragedy so interwoven into Israel’s creation. I wanted to believe in a world in which Israel could still be this place of hope and revitalization for my people, without devastating another. These idealistic dreams for peace in Israel and Palestine drove me to my studies of Classical Languages at Macalester. If I couldn’t yet live in that cohesive world on a physical level, I wanted to create it within myself. Perhaps the most striking aspect of studying both Hebrew and Arabic is the abundance of common roots. I had the poignant opportunity to learn each language through the other, an academic journey that blurred barriers between Judaism and Islam, Hebrew and Arabic, Israel and Palestine. Through classes and student organizations, I found space to exist as both a Jew with a love for Israel and an advocate for Palestinian rights. When I tested out this newly embraced ideology in the physical realm, the dissonance consumed me. My study abroad experience was not my first time in Israel, but it was my first time attempting to really live my values, practicing coexistence and studying peace-building. My community at the Arava Institute of Environmental Studies was composed of Israelis, Palestinians, Jordanians and internationals. Coexistence meant the merging of stories and the creation of new collective narratives. The new stories we formed about ourselves as a group and as individuals had to be nuanced enough to embrace the broad range of conflicting experiences we each brought to the community.

To live coherently was to surrender to contradictions.

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In forging new narratives together, diverse individuals became a family. A 40-person patchwork tribe living deep in the desert, fighting, dancing, crying, loving. It’s harder to see yourself as an isolated individual when your community is all you’ve got. Now that I’ve returned to Minnesota, I do not wish to return to a state of separateness. Me, and then my community. My spiritual life over here, and academics over there. My Israel self thousands of miles away as my Minnesotan self struggles to figure out what’s missing. Offering myself up as a vessel for the confrontation of diverse stories was not always easy or comfortable, but it showed me the freedom to be found in letting ourselves be dynamic and complex. My capstone has provided an opportunity to open the vessel and let the nuances of my experience meet the hearts of others. It can be a lot to carry, and as I’ve discovered throughout the process, it may be time to release to create room for new growth. Israel and Palestine and the people there who have graciously let me into their lives will always be part of my story. The lessons they teach me will never leave. But living out those lessons may not involve a return to the Middle East. As much as Macalester has instilled within me a sense of global citizenship and interconnectedness, it has also illuminated some of the immense privileges I carry. As I come to understand the gravity of what I’ve been given in this life, my concern is increasingly what I can do with this privilege. I may have more to give in my home community than I do by inserting myself into another. Perhaps I can start by sharing the stories I’ve collected along the way. Not every Millennial has the opportunity to seek meaningful work. I believe our responsibility in this pursuit is to take advantage of the resources available during our time at Macalester to be, as we say in the yoga world, ‘at least as curious about what’s going on inside you as what’s happening outside.’

By struggling with the big questions and opening our hearts to connection as well as conflict, we can use these four years to better understand who we are and what we have to give. I’m grateful that Macalester has supported me as I strive to integrate my spirituality and my studies. Though this project marks my completion of my Classics degree, my years of learning are only beginning. As I transition to formal studies of yoga and Sacred Plant Medicine, the impact of my professors and peers at Macalester will continue to inform the way I go about the business of learning, inspiring me to utilize the diverse range of tools I’ve been given. The following guide is intended to help the viewer engage with some of the questions I wish to raise with my film. I invite you to reflect, challenge, and open dialogues.

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Lao Tzu Quote Source: Poetseers.org

Sunrise Photos: Sunrise meditation on nearby ‘Electric Mountain’ for my 21st birthday party. Music: “Yemen Blues” by Israeli Yemenite band Yemen Blues.

• Where do you mark your beginning? • How did you get here?

Divest from Israel Footage: Protestors on Summit Ave in St. Paul, Minnesota. Music: “הריקוד המוזר של הלב/The Strange Dance of the Heart” by Roni Kenan with Gidi Gov

• What does it mean to advocate for an absent population? • Can ‘outsiders’ ever fully understand a foreign conflict? Is it

ethical or responsible to insert ourselves into global issues we will inevitably fall short of understanding?

• If everyone has a bias, does that mean that everyone has a right to add his or her story to the collective conflict?

Verbal Processor Photos: Photos from my time at the Arava Institute, taken from Facebook. Music: “הריקוד המוזר של הלב/The Strange Dance of the Heart” by Roni Kenan with Gidi Gov

• How do you learn? • In what ways do you take responsibility for your own

learning?

Nakba/Catastrophe Footage: I took the clip of the Israeli flag from JNF Canada’s YouTube channel. Photos of Palestine are a compilation of my own photos and photos from Faryn Borella, another student from the Arava Institute (with permission). The last photo, showing a sign for Lifta, an Arab village depopulated in 1948, sort of sums up the “system I cannot support”. The Arabic on the sign has been erased by a vandal. Music: “Douja” by Le Trio Joubran

• Have you ever felt marginalized, that someone wanted to erase you?

• How would it feel to commemorate a national holiday at school that your community views as an ongoing catastrophe?

• How do holidays contribute to collective narratives? • How might we respectfully mark such conflicting holidays in

a coexisting community?

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Raining in the Desert Footage: My own at the Arava Institute, and Arava Desert local band ANNA RF’s “Raining in the Desert” music video via YouTube.

• How do you react to the unexpected? • Can we even see contradictions if we are not open to

perspectives other than our own? • How might a resistance to being surprised or persuaded

impact the quality of our lives?

Comfort Footage: Mississippi River, St. Paul, MN

• What are some of the privileges you carry? • How have they allowed you to grow? • How do you make sense of these privileges? Is there a way

to use them to bridge such inequalities?

The Checkpoint Photos: Taken from my collection and that of Faryn Borella, as well as the Zochrot online database. Zochrot is an Israeli NGO dedicated to preserving Palestinian history and commemorating Nakba. My peers and I toured the depopulated village, Lifta, with one of their tour guides. Music: “Masar” by Le Trio Joubran

• Is it ethical to take advantage of a system that is biased in your favor if you do so to challenge that system?

• If we occupy a place of privilege within that system, are we perpetuating it more than we are truly creating change?

• Does this contribute to normalization?

Don’t Give Up/אל תוותרFootage: My photos from Oshrat’s neighborhood, Oshrat’s music video filmed by Shir Newman Music: ”אל תוותר/Don’t Give Up” by Oshrat Masala Oshrat’s music may be found on Facebook Pages: Oshrat Masala or YouTube: אושרת מסלה

Vandalized sign leading to an Arab village depopulated in 1948. Photo by Rebecca Shapiro

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Israel, You are a Man Footage: The clips that follow Oshrat’s video are "Two Palestinian girls arrested in house demolitions in Umm Fagarah, South Hebron Hills [eng]" via YouTube user ‘OpCol’ and "Palestinian girl in front of Israeli soldiers" via YouTube user ‘meir oha’.

• Is it ethical to use the suffering of others to tell our own stories?

• How might carrying the stories of others expand our ability to empathize and advocate?

• If our investigation of another place and culture is voluntary and temporary, can we ever really understand the reality of their struggle?

• If we choose to criticize a nation, do we have the right to seek a home there?

• What does it mean to set criteria for who belongs in a place?

We are all connected. Neil DeGrasse Tyson Quote Source: Goodreads.com Footage: My video of the woman who taught me to play the didgeridoo in Park HaYarkon, Tel Aviv.

• If we’re all connected, do the failings of others reflect our own flaws?

• How can we both accept a flawed world and work for its betterment?

Credits Music: “Déjà vu” by Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young Thank you for joining me in this journey. May we grant ourselves the ability to remain dynamic, living in celebration of the unity underlying even our division. May we find compassion within the question. If you wish to open a dialogue about anything shown or stated in my film, please contact me at rebeccashapiro311@gmail.com.

Native desert plant perseverance in the Negev Desert. Photo by Rebecca Shapiro