Is this our new normal?
Bombs exploding in crowds?
Children learning peace and living violence?
Blood stained streets?
Media loops implanting chaos in our brains?
Tears, candles, sadness, compassion,
endless questions of why in countless languages?
Police turning to the darker man in pain, raiding his home first?
Evil is not owned by one race, one people, one faith.
Love, however, is available to all.
Today, let’s choose.
I choose
Love
Light
Peace.
As this year winds down, I want to pause for a few moments to reflect. Reflection is something we talk about here at Melibee. We believe it is a fine art and one that requires a lot of practice.
There is much to reflect on as 2012 inches to a close. MelibeeU kicked off with a workshop on Global Service Learning with the very talented Dr. Eric Hartman. We brought on a team of fantastic interns who embrace exploring creativity in our field . They have more energy than can truly be imagined – and for that I’m so incredibly grateful. We launched our first tool around re-entry, Beyond Abroad: Innovative Re-entry Exercises. We had our first Melibee speaker travel abroad for a presentation on sustainability. We launched a Melibee store - something that unfolded very organically as we grew this year. Back in October, we celebrated our third year of blogging on issues we think are important to international educators.
We also had personal joys to reflect on. We celebrated a baby girl being born to one of our fabulous team members, Katie. Our lead bee, Danielle, graduated and landed what could be described as nearly anybody’s dream job in international education. Our sole male bee, Kyle, moved cross country for a new career opportunity. Other Melibees (our pet name for our team) started graduate school. Sadly, we were devastated when one of our bees lost her mother very unexpectedly and we think of her daily.
On a happier note, another of our hive members moved abroad to live her dreams in Spain. Others have committed to the job search and resume crafting (and re-crafting!) Some have moved on to focus on other priorities in life while we welcomed some “newbees” to the hive with open arms. To wrap up the year, Tony and I actually got married this month too!
2012 has been a very special year for our bunch. We hope that it is for all of you too and we wish for …
PS – special thanks to our very own Melibee, Maria Snyder, for creating this beautiful card of peace.
The memorial lights on 9/11.
Ten years ago. TEN. Blue skies. Slightly crisp air. A normal day. At home, on hold for a tri-regional conference call with the TV on. News reports a plane hit the towers. I saw and thought, immediately, that is NOT an accident. When you’re from New York, you know that you can’t hit the towers or any other building by accident. You typically fly up one of the rivers, high above the city, but close enough that you can easily identify the towering buildings. But no, you can’t accidentally hit one. Not possible.
Confusion.
Colleagues abroad listening as I said my brother in law works down there. I have to go. Second tower is hit – I see it live on TV. I call my sister. She is trying to find my brother in law by phone. My baby niece is with her; she stayed home that day for a doctor appointment or some baby related reason. I didn’t have to worry about her, but where was he?
I call my Dad. Suddenly, you can’t get through by phone to anyone. Busy signals. Beep beep beep beep. Where is my Dad? My cousin who works in midtown? My friends and colleagues?
Finally, Dad answers, crying. What is happening, where is your sister, he asks. I tell him she is fine. He cries more, relieved. We are looking for her husband. Dad cries again. Dad is a crier by nature, but he is also a native New Yorker. What is happening to his city? Our city?
I go to my friend’s house nearby. We are in shock, unsure of what to do. We drive to the local hospital to donate blood. They are not accepting donations. Perhaps they realize before we do that there is no need because thousands won’t survive the heinous terrorist act. We leave, feeling empty and defeated. What else can we do? We gather at a friend’s restaurant. We all look at the little TV. We are all in shock. The sky is still so blue. I think it is odd how nature doesn’t understand what is going on below.
The skies are silent. Living north of the city, they are typically full of planes passing over to Westchester airport, LaGuardia, Newark or JFK. Silence. Eeery silence. Like the earth stood still for a bit.
Later that night, my sister says my brother in law abandoned his car and walked home. Across the bridge. Miles. Alive. Thankfully, alive. I’ve never loved my brother in law more than in that moment.
Later I discover that two coworkers from my days at New York University lost family members. One a wife, the other a brother.
Today, I find myself having to explain less and less that Muslims are not responsible for the acts that took place on 9/11. Terrorists did this. Sick, sadistic, angry people did this. They may have called themselves Muslim, but that is not what 99.9% of Muslims believe. Those men were simply terrorists. Cowards.
But today is a hard day for me. I have moved away from my beloved city like many New Yorkers did. The sky where I am today is blue like on that day. It reminds me of how beautifully that day started. It reminds me the pain that the world felt. It reminds me of a horrific decision by our president to start a war.
The blue sky reminds me of loss. Of people who were just living their daily routines, of soldiers and innocent people abroad, of the pain felt by those who were left behind, of the children who never got to know their parents, aunts, uncles, etc. It reminds me of the firefighters who were so brave, who loved this city, who lived to save people, who died trying.
It reminds me of an entire religious community that has spent a decade having to justify their existence in this country and many who still live in fear.
But today, I’m concentrating hard on hope and healing. I am thinking about my next visit to NY and how I will take time to see the footprints where the towers stood and to reflect upon the countless visits I had taken there. The time my mom took me and my Mexican exchange student brother, Rodrigo, there to gaze upward at the shiny silver and intricate metal work. The awe on his face when he realized how very big the towers were. The time when I was very little and my parents told me about the man who put a wire across the two buildings roofs and walked, without a net, way up in the clouds. The times, as an adult, that I took the circle line boat with visiting friends past the towers and saw them shining in the sunlight or their lights dancing in the mist. The times we drove in from New Jersey, perhaps the best view of the skyline, and saw the massive structures glistening along the water. Those are the memories I will forever hold close to my heart, the ones that I will always protect. The ones of them standing tall, solid and regal.
And when I return to NY, I will honor all that was lost on that day. But I will look forward. And I will be hopeful.
Peace to you all.
Please enjoy this video about the “Man on a Wire” and remember the beauty of the Twin Towers along with me:
9/11 memorial lights in NYC (Copywright: Missy Gluckmann)
The news is jaw dropping. It is raw, huge. It fills the room, the country, the world. Osama bin-Laden is dead.
I wrote a blog post just a few days ago about teachable moments with the tenth anniversary of 9/11 in mind. I could not have imagined that bin Laden would be killed by US special forces days later.
I am from New York. I am American. I am a world citizen, or at least someone who aims to be. I have written extensively about Islamophobia as a result of 9/11.
I feel a flood of emotions – they range from grateful to numb, relief to sadness. People on Facebook are arguing over who deserves the credit – “Bush or Obama.” Others are celebrating in the streets outside of the White House chanting “USA.” I’m proud of my country, however I want someone to be standing outside that building holding up a sign that says “Peace.”
Our nephew is in Afghanistan tonight. He woke up to the news, elated and shocked. I want to believe he has been there for a reason. Then again, the bridge builder in me resists.
I can still see the Twin Towers in my mind. They are bright – the glorious sun is glistening off of their glass. I see them at night, many lights turned on around each floor, sucking up energy as they stand as a beacon at the base of Manhattan. I recall getting out of the subway weeks after the attacks and I looked up to find that “sure thing” landmark to direct me around my beloved city. Gone. Only blue sky remains. I put my hand up to my face and turn my head. I cannot look. It is like losing a limb and feeling it, the phantom limb.
This is a teachable moment, I’m certain. This will be remembered in our history books. This evil, hateful, vengeful man is gone to wherever one goes when you die after murdering thousands upon thousands of people. Yet, I have no idea how to explain to our youth, at least tonight, what a terrorist being killed means to the world. I hope it means more peace for all of us, but I’m uncertain.
I think about the wife of a co-worker from NYU who climbed to the roof of the towers, trying to be rescued as she stayed on the cell phone with her spouse. I think of the two people who felt that leaping to their death, hand in hand, was a better option than being burned alive by the intense heat of the flames. I think about the children who never met their fathers, the mothers who gave birth without the loving support of their husbands. I think about the firefighters and police who ran into the buildings to save lives, but lost their own instead. I think of those who survived, only to barely survive. I think of those who were witnesses, like my beloved Tony, who suffered tremendous anxiety from watching the grand scale loss of human life and who lost their ability to talk about the day because the wounds are too deep, too much for the heart and mind to bear.
Then there are those brave men and women who are abroad, fighting for the cause of freedom. Even when it is imperfect, I feel such tremendous gratitude for their bravery, their steadfast belief in this country and its values. And I am angry when our media and government hide the agony of a flag covered casket from our pure eyes. We know we are at war. Don’t treat us like children.
Tonight, I am still digesting this news. The consultant in me quickly “tweeted” that study abroad offices need to reach out to students abroad as there could be serious repercussions for bin Laden’s death. That is the reality of what we live with today. The New Yorker is me longs to be home, feeling the energy of my beloved city and reveling in the unity that we felt after 9/11, at least for a few short weeks. My heart wants to curl up into a ball, huddling close to those I love. It cries for peace, for healing, for days when the hardest thing about traveling was remembering whether or not you packed the right shoes, not whether you would remember to take them off at the security check.
Goodbye bin-Laden. Go away forever. Let us get on with our work. Let our young people know a world without talk of terrorism, 9/11, or war.
And NYC, my deeply loved city, please sleep well tonight.
This is a tough post for me to write. It is nearly impossible to imagine that it has been a decade since the terrorist attacks of 9/11. As a native New Yorker, going back to that day is painful, traumatizing, scarring. Clearly, this is not exclusive to New Yorkers – people all over the world felt a range of emotions after the attacks. Yet, I would describe my feelings about how I’ve seen Islam distorted since that day using similar words – I have felt, at times, as if I have been watching a slow and gut wrenching slaughter of a people. I have spent much of my time since 9/11 responding to those days since that event with teachable moments. Here are some suggestions for teachable moments to memorialize this day:
1) Create a day of gratitude: One of my strongest memories of the days after 9/11 was how incredibly supportive and loving people were toward each other in NY. People smiled at each other, reached out to help a stranger, and donated blood to the Red Cross. No one asked whether you were Christian, Muslim, Jewish, etc. Reminding people of our humanity by creating a day of gratitude for all we do have is a perfect way to change the counter narrative about that day. We lost thousands of lives that day, and as a result of that tragedy, we managed to find a heck of a lot of humanity. Let’s find a way to recapture that. Remind people of our common humanity. Perhaps it is through setting up a blood drive or creating an interfaith picnic on the quad? After all, we all bleed and we all need to eat! Figure out what works for your campus or community and make it happen.
2) Create dialogue through film:
Budrus: This is an excellent documentary that illustrates the hope and non-violent movement of Muslims (in Palestine.) It is an excellent counter narrative to the myth that all Muslims and Palestinians are terrorists. It is also a shining example of Israelis and Palestinians working together and breaking down stereotypes of each other. Link to an interview with Nadav Greenberg, the Outreach Coordinator for Just Vision (who made the film.)
Crossing Borders Film: I have written extensively about this film. I firmly believe it is the most effective tool to create dialogue about Islam. Arnd Wächter, the film’s Director, will be in the US this fall for screenings. Feel free to contact me if you’d like more information about how to set up a screening with Arnd.
3) Bring in a speaker to create dialogue about Islam:
Here are three wonderful Melibee Global speakers who briefly mention 9/11 in their presentations, but more importantly, talk instead about the true fabric of Muslims in our world:
a) 30 Mosques: Aman Ali and Bassam Tariq, the co-founders of 30 mosques are available for campus events. They spent Ramadan 2010 and 2011 traveling to 30 states (each trip!) sharing stories of every day life of diverse Muslim communities in the US. Feedback about their presentation has been unprecedented. What they accomplish in changing the minds and hearts of others about Muslims in America is the stuff that peace prizes are made of. This year, their trip has been covered by the BBC, Huffington Post, Travel and Leisure, CNN International, Al Jazeera (English) and a documentary is in the works about their epic journey.
b) Ibrahim Abdul-Matin: Author of “Green Deen: What Islam Teaches About Protecting the Planet” is the best lesson in sustainability AND redirecting the dialogue to more timely issues than 9/11. He brilliantly reminds us to talk about “water” when someone asks about 9/11. Invite them for a glass of water – which is a much more critical political issue in our world today. Kudos Ibrahim!
c) Nury Turkel: Nury is new to the Melibee “family” but very well versed on speaking publicly about the human rights violations of the minority Muslim Uyghur (pronounced)”Wee-Ger” population in Northwest China. He does a brilliant job of explaining how politics landed innocent Uyghurs in Guantanamo Bay and how the Chinese policies have attempted to destroy the Uyghur culture.
(Reach out to Melibee Global at info@melibeeglobal.com if you’re interested in any of these, or any other speakers, for your organization’s events.)
4) Create an opportunity for reflection AND create an opportunity to feel proud:
We should lower our flags that morning and honor those who died. We should think about their lives and their legacies. We should thank our local fire departments and police for the services that they so unselfishly provide to our communities. And we should also create opportunities for those who are Muslim to feel proud of their faith, as it was not their faith that killed others that day, it was a group of terrorists who did so. I have observed Muslim students and friends in this country shying away from feeling pride for their faith and it pains me deeply. Imagine if every time you were asked about your religious beliefs, you had to defend it? That is what many of our Muslim friends continue to experience. Imagine if people looked at you oddly because you choose to wear a cross or yarmulke? Women who choose to cover their heads are often being stared at, assumptions are often made about oppression. Use this anniversary to shift the tide by creating an opportunity for Muslims to celebrate their faith, which promotes peace. Work with your campus Muslim Student Association and your interfaith dialogue community to find an appropriate way to celebrate all religions instead of having to defend them on this important day. Many Muslim students who have heard the 30 mosques presentation write to Aman and Bassam to thank them for reminding them how much they love their faith and how they want to explore the diversity of it in the US as a result of their presentation. Shouldn’t we all be able to feel proud?
5) Consider others who are living with terrorism:
Find a cause to support in honor of those who died and those who survived on 9/11. Create a fund raising event to raise awareness about those who suffer on a regular basis – and donate funds and time to this cause. Helping others in need is perhaps the best path to healing our world.
If you’d like to read more about my thoughts on 9/11, please click here.
Peace to you all.
Hillary Rodham Clinton, US Secretary of State
US Secretary of State, Hillary Rodham Clinton, made a surprise appearance at TED Women in Washington DC this past week. Her talk was about the role of women and girls in diplomacy, security and peace. (TED Women is an extension of the not for profit TED, which brings people together to share revolutionary ideas.)
Clinton has made the role and value of women and girls a cornerstone of US foreign policy. Needless to say, there was a lot of applauding about that, although she did note that the US’s defense budget is still approximately 12 times higher than her department’s.
Enjoy Secretary of State Clinton’s presentation. It is chock full of hope for girls and women around the world.
Memorial lights at Ground Zero on 9/11/09. (Photo by Tony Zeoli.)
Each year since 9/11, I have witnessed the blue lights that rise from Ground Zero, memorializing the Twin Towers and all that was lost on that day. Each year I have watched the TV as the names of the victims of terrorism are read. I cry along with the countless mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, children, husbands, wives, friends, co-workers, and strangers who weep for what our nation and our world experienced on a day that will live on in our history books. I have visited the site on 9/11 over the years to reflect, take photos, observe the stillness of the space in such a bustling city, to cry, to think, to hope. Here is a photo of me last year at the site taking photos and taking a moment to show the American symbol for peace. (Note the 2 young women in the distance under my camera looking up at the lights, and the sign behind them referencing the memorial.)
That's me taking photos of the memorial lights in NYC on 9/11/09. (Photo by Tony Zeoli.)
If you’ve read my other posts about 9/11, you’ll know that my sister, brother-in-law, and cousin worked in the city on that day and that I spent the day on the phone trying to locate them. My brother-in-law was the most challenging to find, as he worked near the site and ended up walking home to Queens without phone access during most of his walk. His mother called from Ireland to find out if he was ok, and while my sister was safe at home with their 8 1/2 month old daughter that morning, she could not answer the question right away. Thankfully, he was safe. So many others weren’t, and we were so grateful that he was not in harm’s way that day.
My love, Tony, witnessed the buildings burning from the rooftop of his apartment building in Brooklyn. He saw people leap to their death and smelled the stench of death for months afterward. He had nightmares, experienced bouts of anxiety and still has a very difficult time looking at pictures of the towers. He was forever changed by that experience. We all were, regardless of where we physically stood at the time of the attacks in NY and Washington DC.
As an international educator, but perhaps more importantly, as a human being, I believe that we have an urgent responsibility to work toward peace. Nine years later, I see more dialogue about differences and hatred than perhaps ever before. I remember that sense of community, of unity, of humanity, in the weeks and months after that horrific attack. People helped each other. Period. We did not ask if you were “for or against” an Islamic Center in downtown Manhattan. We did not ask what your political affiliation was. We did not ask who you voted for, what your religion was, what your place of origin was, if you were straight or gay, if you had been laid off, if you had a home that was in foreclosure, if you required government services, if you were an immigrant, if you were here legally or otherwise – or any other questions. We asked how we could help our fellow man/woman. And in the days after 9/11, we did. At least in New York City, for a few months, we did.
Our American Congress promised to “stand together” and in a gesture of our unity, stood on the steps of the US Capitol and sang “God Bless America.” Today, they are more divided than ever. Apparently in the US, mid-term elections are more important that unity and peaceful solutions to American (and world) issues.
I have had countless debates and discussions with friends and complete strangers about the Islamic Center that will be built near Ground Zero. Why do I support it? Simply put: I support it because Islam did not kill all of those beautiful people on 9/11; evil and hateful extremists, using the name of an otherwise peaceful mainstream religion, murdered those people. They killed people of all faiths on that day, including Muslims. But most importantly, the common denominator of that day is that people were murdered – no matter what their faith (or desire not to identify with one), religion, political affiliation, gender, sexual orientation, social status, etc.
And if we break it down, the common denominator on 9/11 is that we are all human, we all feel pain, we all love and we all need peace and unity. And the only way to do so is to offer serious attempts at dialogue. Politics and extremist viewpoints are not invited to the party this time.
And despite the mainstream media focusing on a country divided – I was delighted to see an example of what we are all truly capable of in this world. This example is simple: love thy neighbor. We should not claim that as a Christian or Muslim value, we should claim it to be a HUMAN value, as humanity is the common denominator in this life that we each live on this planet.
So, as 9/11 approaches and we honor those who were lost, we look at the faces of the people left behind in mourning, we recall the thousands of workers and volunteers who ran to the site and worked there for years to search for bodies and to begin the cleanup and rebuilding efforts, to all that came together that day – I ask you to watch this incredible example of what we are capable of as human beings:
I think that all it takes is some humanity. And on this ninth anniversary of 9/11, we could sure use some. Peace to you all.
