Debate for Peace

60 days have passed since the war began. 60 days in which I feel empty. 60 days of an emotional roller coaster that doesn’t have a rising trend. All I hear around me is the word “death”, the whispers at school were all gossip and teenage drama, now it’s all about the horrors, the murders, the unspeakable. Social media is covered in videos of people’s last phone calls to their loved ones. I see posts from people describing what they saw when the Hamas terrorists broke into their homes. How they beat, kicked and burned their loved ones and beheaded them in front of their eyes. I break down every time I see an influencer who has changed my life, support and raise money for the people trying to murder me, my friends and my family merely because I am Jewish.

Our television is on the news channel constantly these days, I don’t know what I want to see, maybe it’s the hope of seeing some good news; for a change. I saw on the news a live footage of Hamas terrorist pro-camera throwing grenades at children, toddlers and babies while they screamed for their parents. But their parents won’t come, they are already dead on the kitchen floor.

I’ve tried hundreds of times to think why? Why would people walk around the street whistling and shooting people? Why would anyone take a life; someone you don’t know, a complete stranger, on the sole fact that they are Jewish. I thought about it for a while and remembered one of the worst things that have occurred in history: The Holocaust. At school, on Holocaust Memorial Day, survivors tell us how they had to live for days in a hole they had dug themselves, without food, without water, without air. They told how the Nazis broke into their homes and beat and executed their father, raped their mother and burned their siblings alive. One of the Holocaust survivors came to my school and told me that the Nazis took him and about two hundred other children and babies to a small house, they locked them in there and set it on fire. He heard them laughing outside without caring at all as he struggled to breathe, fighting for every bit of oxygen. Luckily, he survived, unfortunately his two other siblings died in the fire. I always think about how they felt, how incredibly scared they were, how helpless, confused and extremely frightened. However, I could never really understand it, I was not there, my house wasn’t broken into, no one came and murdered my family in cold blood.

One Saturday, I was doing my homework and listening to music, it was a sunny day, the weather was perfect. Suddenly I heard a notification on my cell phone, I opened it and felt my skin burning, it was as if a million little needles had pricked me all at once. I had goose bumps. I was cold, the color had drained from my face, I looked like I had seen a ghost, but I didn’t, I saw worse. I saw three new articles had been published. One was about how a Jewish man was murdered in California after an altercation at an Israeli-Palestine protest. The second was a photo of a Jewish man’s front door in Germany with a swastika spray-painted on it. The third was the worst of all, more photos showing hundreds of gravestones in a Jewish cemetery in Brooklyn with swastikas spray-painted in red.

I found it hard to breathe; I couldn’t breathe, a painful shiver went through my body. It was at that moment, when I realized that this war is not between Israel and Palestine, but worldwide. People in Germany, France and even in the United States, friendly countries, want me dead, but why? They do not know me and I do not know them. It was then when I understood a little of the fear that the Jews had to go through during the Holocaust. The unimaginable fear of existing. I understood the fear when you hear a faint noise outside that makes you jump, thinking they are outside ready to break in and take your last breath. I felt the horrible feeling of something I only heard of in stories.

Will this war turn into another Holocaust? It already feels like it, Jews being tortured, raped, abused, beheaded, burned alive, drowned, electrocuted until their last breath, swastikas sprayed on doors and tombstones.

Will I have to be walked with my eyes closed and my hands tied to a place that was built specifically to kill me? Will I have to hide my three-year-old sister underground with me so they won’t find us?

Will I have to change my identity to keep my life?

It was late in the night, probably Saturday, but he had already stopped counting, it wasn’t important anyways. It’s not like he had any appointment worthy of remembering, or anyone worth meeting, for that matter. He just had his 28th birthday, but there was no celebration, well to be fair there was, and he even attended but he wasn’t really there. He wanted to end it, he hated every person in it… even those he usually liked. But most of the people who knew him, did not care. All that was important to his so-called friends was that he would show up to work.

To be fair he wasn’t quite emotional, and certainly he did not like showing his emotions, but to miss his state of being you had to be blind, oh no, they all knew but did not care. It was the same every day, he would go to work in the advertisement agency. He would be signing a lot of papers that no one would read, making a few calls to very rich and posh people that usually could not be bothered to answer because they were busy doing… something. Then he would have his lunch, the only good part of his day. After that he usually would go to check on a few of his men who were writing the papers he signed. 

Twice a week, sometimes even more he would go to a few of the agency’s offices in different locations. He really wanted to go by car but his boss would only agree to pay for the train ticket, so that’s what he did. In origin he was from some forgotten town in Canada but he moved across the pond around a year or so ago, so he didn’t get used to the traffic moving in the other direction. He really hated that, and any big English city, and the food, he hated everything apart from reading (and his lunch).

One day he got a new destination to travel to, he had to go to Portsmouth for some reason. He really tried to be happy because it was the only city he liked in England. But no matter how hard he tried he just couldn’t be happy.   

It wasn’t always like that. It only started about a year and a half ago. Before that time he loved all his co-workers and he enjoyed his work even though it was dull. It was the same job but in Canada. As a matter of fact he used to go out every few days. He was always surrounded by people all day long. He liked it, he lived like that for years, since school and college. He had one good friend, a girl around his age, and quite a few acquaintances. Overall, he was quite a social and talkative person. 

His good friend who was a tall and thin woman, around 25, who met him in high school and since then they have been together. Even though they were quite different they went to hell and back. He liked going out as often as he could. While she enjoyed the comfort of her own fireplace and most impressive collection of novels. She stayed home because every occasion of the few times she actually went out somehow ended with the police involved. Once she drank too much and hit the barkeep. Another time she almost stabbed a waiter when running to the toilet. But the last time was when she got a bit drunk in an empty bar, (empty except for herself, the salesman, another and another big man whom they did not know but introduced himself as John). That night she messed with some gangster, a friend of this John, who tried to steal a few bucks from the register. The robber did not see her ‘bravery’ in a kind way so he beat her until she lost consciousness… . Later when she gave her deposition at the police station she revealed that she had stolen the gangster’s watch and phone, which contained enough information to arrest about a dozen members. And so she was put under protective custody. But it all changed one day when she was killed, apparently by the gangster or someone in the gang who came to seek revenge. 

At first, for a month, the poor salesman just sat at home doing absolutely nothing, but he was lucky enough to be understood, he wanted to be alone. And his friends let him, while constantly checking on him. That was until he decided to try and go back to society; though he changed, it was alright. He started to value his privacy more and he started to take walks just to be alone at night, he tried to be happy, and for a few moments, though brief, he was. He had supportive friends and family, and he even enjoyed his alone time, it was then when he started reading partly in memory of his late friend, and partly as a way of escaping reality.

It was a few months after his friend’s death,  when he thought that he might just be okay, and life was as good as it could be under the circumstances. But he wasn’t fine, nor was life. Every little thing drove him to a state of depression, he started crying, he never did before. But then came a point where he just couldn’t stay in his small town in Canada. He just wanted out. so badly he wanted out that he asked for relocation. and so headquarters moved him to Leeds, England.
He, at first thought it would help but very quickly he learnt how wrong he was. It all just got so much worse.

So there he was on a cheap second class seat, going to his favourite city, the one place where he could be happy. It was a long journey, so he was reading, until around six a big bulky man with blue eyes lightly touched his shoulder, saying ‘excuse me?’  

‘Yes ?’ he answered.

The man looked at him with his blue eyes and said ‘don’t you remember ? From back in Canada’ After a moment the salesman answered ‘ no, unfortunately i don’t ?’
‘ oh, a pity, i am John Burnton’ the salesman replied ‘ well when i think about it you do look familiar, but i can’t remember where from, how are you anyway?’.
Burnton turned around slightly and said ‘ I am alright, though I cannot say it about you from your look’ ‘ really? You can notice ?!’ jumped the poor salesman, ‘notice?’ laughed Burnton and said, a bit tactlessly 

‘Boy, everyone in that train can notice… it’s about that dead friend of yours, right?’

‘Yes it is about her’
‘Well here’s what we will do, when this bloody train will stop I will show you around the city, to my flat and we will have a drink. Though I try not to… it got me in some troubles’ ‘thanks, I would like that. You know my friend always used to get himself in trouble when drinking, funny isn’t it ?’
‘ oh yes, coincidence’ said Burnton ‘ well i have to go now, see you at the station’.
When Burnton left, the salesman remembered his old friend and the pain this caused him made him think that should perhaps skip Mr. Burnton’s opportunity. After all, he could not remember whether he actually knew him or not. At the end he decided to try and meet him after all, and so he did. 

After a few hours of walking through the streets of Portsmouth they were almost finished wandering when the salesman felt for the first time in a long year and a half that he was not alone, he grew to like John Burnton. It was already past midnight when Burnton said ‘ here we go to the left and in 15 minutes we will be at my flat’ they entered a dark small street between to car parks when John stopped reached for his overcoat and said ‘ well I would like to apologise to you in advance’ his companion stopped looking utterly confused, ‘well you see mate’ John continued ‘ I never told you where we met. Do you remember that night at the bar with your friend ?’ 

The salesman’s heart sank for he understood finally where he knew this John from ‘ i’m the friend of the guy your buddy robbed and got into prison, 15 years. And all that for some minor theft. We badly needed the money, you see, so we joined this stupid drug operation, and then your friend came and we became the reason the gang fell. He got into jail, somewhat safe, and I ran for my life. But here it ends, they caught me, it’s me or you, they said. Either I shoot you or they shoot me. I am truly sorry.’ 

The salesman understood that he would not live for much longer. He tried to beg, but that did not work. Finally he said ‘ you know what is the funny thing here ? Until I met you on the train and since she died there was no one who understood me, no one to be there for me, I was so lonely yet surrounded by people at work, and now in this street ? There is no one for me, yet I do not feel alone. I know I will meet her once more, do what you must, for God’s sake’ at that exact moment a gunshot was heard and the poor salesman fell down to earth cold and bloody, but for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, somehow not alone.                               

Does modern life give technology the right to change people’s emotion? 

Categorizing them into groups and names by the lie of globalization

To convince them that people are different peoples of more than a nation 

which lets them live behind the screens, till they turn with no appreciation 

killing the union of belonging and fighting to get it back by organization

Struggling not to lose containing the other through the coming generation 

God created the universe putting his beauty and specialty into his creation 

And made all people equal and free but differences are found in education

He prefers educated scientists who will treat the sickness and passion 

Gave them to mind the brain, looking and searching for any information 

Teaches people about the beauty of special people of syndromes’ situation 

And raised the feeling of containing and love for them with consideration

They are “The Special Ones” that have ever found in the whole creation

In one spot of the globe, there was a garden in an unknown location 

Roses grew up of lavender smell and one different rose got the attention

It was a daffodil between the lavender field, a foreign rose of creation 

flowers went far from jealousy and captured it in the prison of isolation

Till the farmer came and defined its beauty that decorated the location

Watered it carefully, and took care of it with a fear of coming pollution

It was strange to feel like the daffodil calling for any communication

The wise farmer got the gift from God as the specialty in differentiation 

And was showing off that he was chosen to get God’s selection

To send him this daffodil that is not found in any other location 

decorates his simple hut to be a great castle in a world of imagination

Teaching each one of us the meaning of being thankful with appreciation 

and being aware to value even the smallest thing that may cause a revolution that may change life for the better and gives the real meaning of “pure relation”

I am a lily, and you are a dove,

Destined to blossom and destined to fly above.

Yet, how can I blossom with no water and light,

And how can you soar, wings clipped, in this fight

A gilded cage they craft, illusions so fine,

Yet beneath the gold, it’s metal that binds.

They plucked my petals, stripped your feathers too,

Chained us with threads unseen, an insidious brew.

Your actions, brushstrokes, objectify our youth,

Assigned us names, played us as pawns, a ruthless truth.

They asked, ‘What will you be when grown up, pray?’

Yet long before eighteen, life’s road grows dim and gray.

In war’s cruel dance, where innocence is the cost,

Children, once lilies and doves, too often are lost

Once a lily, once a dove in skies above,

Now a black rose, a reflection of a raven’s love.

Take that as you please but we beg you to see,

The lilies and doves you once used to be.

We seek not pity or pledges hollow,

But a plea to cease this game, compassion to follow.

We were lilies and doves, innocent and free,

Cease before more innocence fades, let children be.

                            They say, that the fallen angel sowed evil on earth, once he landed. 

                      They say, they pray to the Lord, asking the fallen angel about the lost paradise that Milton wrote about.    

                      But weren’t people created in the likeness of angels? Yes, but why do people choose the fallen angel side?  Why did my brother try to kill me while I was asleep? Why did my brother, with whom I wanted eternal peace, stab me in the back? 

I’m sorry brother that you are suffering for your choice, I’m just trying to protect myself.

I’m sorry that because of your choice, my other brothers got closer to God. 

But I’m not sorry for protecting the promised people of my God.

And I am not sorry for protecting God’s promised land to his chosen people.

Angel, I’m sorry that the fallen angel set you up

Angel, your soul found the lost paradise that Milton wrote about? 

And I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you from that fallen angel who stabbed your back. 

Angel, I’m sorry I couldn’t  protect you in that bloody morning. 

But now, I finally know that you found that lost paradise.

I am from

I am from ash

I am from my blood, my skin

I am from ash, clay, and just a little soul 

a little soul who makes mistakes

a little soul who gets lost, a little soul who does not know.

I am from mess and chaos.

I am from, loving swimming, but remembering drowning.

I am from loving winter 

I am loving nature, from looking outside my window and admiring the beauty 

I am from the euphoria of swinging a little way too high in the swing and feeling the whole world stop

I am from hearing the sound of prayer next to my house.

I am from my first cats, “Sukar” and “Loz”.

I am from loving animals, or maybe animals taught me how to love 

I am from olive oil.

I am from sitting under the olive tree for long hours

I am from sitting in front of my mirror for even longer.

 looking, searching, checking in a broken mirror too broken to see who I am

I am from the politics of saying where I am from, who I am, what I am, and what I want to be, nowhere in the world does being who I am cause dialogue, except where I am from 

I am from the confusion when anyone asks me what I like, they want to know who I am “Just say what you like”.

I am from a world of individual people, within groups, who maybe rely on these groups to get to know themselves, who do not know themselves, I mean you’re only as deep as you have met yourself

I am from all of my mistakes in the past and all of my decisions 

maybe even I don’t know what I like and want in life 

but I know I am from home

I am from Jerusalem, my father’s village up north, and my mom’s city

I am from reading, writing, and listening.

but when everything stops and no labels are around, I am Quds, I am me: that’s the only thing I will never lose, and that’s what stays with me always.

Shortly after the October 7th atrocities, and the onset of war, we launched the Writing Matters course, overseen by Professor Bob Vogel. Students and teachers from all over Israel–the south, north, center and Jerusalem, complete weekly writing assignments and then meet on Zoom weekly to share their writing and engage with one another. The pieces are powerful reflective works that capture raw emotions and deep fears and hopes, simultaneously uniquely personal, while resonating with our collective emotions. We will be sharing a poem, personal narrative, or short story by a different writer for each night of Hanukkah.

I Am From – Michelle Shoshan, 18

I am from IRAN

I am from one of the oldest countries in the world, the country which invented human rights.

The country with a great history known for its beauty, culture, food, amazing people and many other great things.

However Iran didn’t stay like that forever

Where I am from is the country that steps on every human rights policy and destroys anyone who speaks against its government. 

Iran isn’t ruled by the greatest kings anymore, only by a bloodthirsty regime, who kills its own people, or sells weapons to other countries to kill other innocent people.

Where I am from people aren’t happy, they are suffering from inflation. They are suffering from seeing that every day someone gets executed for speaking against the regime.

I miss where I am from. I miss my family, who I can’t visit . Because I know if I go back, I can get arrested.

I miss where I am from because every weekend, every event or every holiday I used to gather with my big family, aunts, uncle, grandma, cousins and family and friends; there were stories, there was music and the feeling that you belong .

Where I am now isn’t where I come from but Israel is a promised land, the land where you feel like you belong.

Israel isn’t my real country but it its treating me better than my own country .

Where I am from you don’t miss anyone because they’re already there. But where I am now I miss everyone.

IOMUN 15, on Sunday December 3, lived up to its name: International Online MUN, with nearly 100 participants from two dozen schools on five continents. The conference was divided into four committees: two beginner committees simulating the UN World Tourism Organization (UNWTO) promoting sustainable tourism; an intermediate committee, the UN High Commission for Refugees (UNHCR), focused on integration of refugees, and a Council of Olympus crisis committee involving Greek Gods.

The conference opened with a keynote speech from Dana Rapoport, Senior Communications Assistant at UNHCR Israel. Dana gave an overview of the work that UNHCR does, highlighting the rising number of refugees and internally displaced persons globally, and what the role of UNHCR is in helping people displaced by conflicts and disasters.

From the opening ceremony the delegates moved into separate committees, where they engaged in a high level debate from the beginning of the conference, before drafting their respective resolutions to address the complex global challenges they were addressing. By the evening the committees were ready to vote on their resolutions. The UNWTO delegates tried to focus on amplifying the positive impacts of tourism while minimizing environmental harm. In the UNHCR efforts were focused on how to better support refugees. And in the Council of Olympus, suggestions included temporary shocks to the global economic system for the overall betterment of humanity.

At the closing ceremony the students were congratulated by Caroline Platt, a diplomat from the US Embassy in Israel, for their hard work and dedication to diplomacy and solving problems collaboratively. Caroline talked about the importance of building relationships between people and other people skills that come in handy during diplomacy.

In the UNWTO A committee, Daniel Hay (Ironi Yud Dalet) and Rani Yakobov (Atid Lod) won Outstanding Delegate, while Noga Vander (Atid Lod) was Best Delegate. In UNWTO B, Shmaya Saban (Shaked Darca) and Ali Omer (South Windsor High School) won Outstanding Delegate, while Sokol Luci (QSI Kosovo) won Best Delegate.

In UNHCR, Yogev Pinkas and Roy Berenstein (Atid Lod) were Outstanding Delegates, and Itamar Assenheim (Atid Lod) was Best Delegate. In the Council of Olympus crisis committee, Naomi Gildor (Studio Ankori) and Anna Rodriguez Stewart (FDR school) were Outstanding Delegates, and Melo Choshane (WBAIS) was the Best Delegate.

IOMUN 15’s Secretariat was led by Yaniv Becker (Chen Young Ambassadors school), Maria Cheremina and Ethan Moncarz (Walworth Barbour American International School), Nana Awadeie (Greek Catholic high school), Angjelina Glasnović and Źiva Benedejčič (Pristina High School), and Grant Bagga and Anoushka Das (Westfield Academy).

The chairs included Yuval Saar and Tslil Israeli (Atid Lod high school for Sciences), Julia Prieto (Seattle Academy of Arts and Sciences), Joseph Lange (QSI International School of Kosovo) and Trixie Bonita from Golden Faith Academy, with the crisis team composed of Juan José Yepes Ortiz (Gimnasio Moderno); Renée Marielle González Díaz (American Institute of Monterrey), Christine Kayla Bonita (Golden Faith Academy) and Audrey Pettibon (Seattle Academy).

IOMUN 16 will take place on Sunday January 14. Registration and topics will be available on the IOMUN Instagram account.

On Sunday November 12, over 50 students from over a dozen schools around Israel as well as Europe, Asia and South America, participated in IOMUN (International Online MUN) 14. The students gave speeches, debated and negotiated resolutions on the topic of “Ethical challenges of ChatGPT and AIs, dealing with issues like education, medicine and diplomacy.

At the closing ceremony, the students heard from US diplomat Caroline Platt, who praised the students for their engaging debates, and for the initiative to come together during a challenging period. Then the award winners were recognized. In the beginners committee, Hera Dalipi (Pristina high school) won Outstanding Delegate, while Shamaya Saban (Shaked Darca) and Eli Shohat (Chen Young Ambassadors School) won Best Delegate. In the advanced committee, Andrey Rudnevskiy (Atid Raziel) and Roy Berenstein (Atid Lod) were outstanding delegates, and Itamar Assenheim (Atid Lod) and Yehuda Lester (Shaked Darca) were best delegates.

IOMUN 14 was led by a dedicated secretariat of Yaniv Becker from the Chen Young Ambassadors school, Maria Cheremina and Ethan Moncarz from the Walworth Barbour American International School, and Nana Awadeie from the Greek Catholic high school. Yuval Saar and Tslil Israeli from Atid Lod high school for Sciences served as chairs.

IOMUN 15 will take place on Sunday December 3. Registration and topics will be available on the IOMUN Instagram account.

In what has become an annual tradition, Debate for Peace once again held meetings with students, diplomats and civil society leaders from various faiths and communities. This year the meetings were held on Sunday, Wednesday and Thursday, October 1, 4 and 5.

During the meetings, all of the participants introduced themselves, and received an explanation about the unique characteristics of the holiday, from the Sukkah to the “4 Species”, to the commandment to be happy over the holiday, as well as various customs and the agricultural components of the holiday. The students were also able to ask questions, both about the holiday and diplomacy.

Participants came from cities all over Israel and the West Bank, as well as from various other countries, representing over 15 countries and 5 continents. For about a half of the 70 participants, it was their first visit in a Sukkah, making for a very memorable intercultural experience.

Debate for Peace thanks all of the participants, including the Ambassador and First Secretary of the Embassy of Malta; Chargée d’Affaires of the Embassy of Kosovo; Deputy Chief of Mission of the Embassy of Cyprus; Director of the Romanian Cultural Institute; head of the Azerbaijan Tourism Representative Office; Vice Consul and Deputy Management Counselor at the US Embassy; Representative of the Taipei Economic and Cultural Office; the Jerusalem Representative of the Baha’i International Secretariat; and the head of the Waqf of Kufr Yasif, as well as delegations from Atid Lod, Givat Haviva International School, and QSchools.