Yesterday walking to the Jewish Voice for Peace Shabbat with Rachel, Jessie, and her kids, we overheard a group of college boys talking about the KU Palestine solidary encampment. As they passed us, one said, “I’m not going to be seen with those fucking terrorists,” and the whole pack of them laughed. That’s the rebranding the opposition is putting on the protesters, and it’s an ugly one. (Of course to call someone a terrorist you dehumanize them, and once you take away a person’s humanity it allows you to do all sorts of awful, reprehensible shit to them. All of us who have read our history know othering is a textbook early step to genocide.) The Shabbat was held in front of Strong Hall. It began with grape juice and challah and ended with a song about ceasefire. My 13 year old god-son Liam handed out the challah, the brave little guy, and after the song we walked back to the ECM, which is becoming a great resource for the community thanks to the work Jessie is doing (with help from Goots and Elizabeth and a lot of great volunteers). Today’s the first day I haven’t been part of the supply department. Stayed here at the farm since morning catching up on work. Feels weird being away. It’s a strange disconnect, and a sort of comedown. Long hours aside, it’s the right thing to do, and to watch small acts of courage and dissent grow into larger actions gives me hope. I hope you are well and safe as can be.
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