121 Contact

Aug 2 2009 Tell Me Why-Declan Galbraith

I don't know why this moves me so. Just click and watch the video: Tell Me Why-Declan Galbraith

He said,
“I like to record songs that are meaningful to me and the audience. I have recorded many different types of songs, such as “Tears in Heaven”, “Love of my Life”, “Nights In White Satin” and  “An Angel”, songs that demand vocal performance and interpretation. I love that kind of music " [more]

June 5 2009 From Brooklyn to Baghad by Kayla Chin

To my dear friends and colleagues in the peace movement,

This piece was written by Kayla Chin who attended a 121Contact event at NYU. 

If you substitute your own name for Noor's  and mine, and reflect upon your own work, you will again come to touch the importance of all of our work in moving this world toward more peaceful tomorrows.

b
--

“From Brooklyn to Baghdad”

By Kayla Chin

Revisiting the Haunting Truth of 9/11 &

Learning From the Brave Actions Taken in its Aftermath

 

            While I mentally organized my notes, balanced coffee and my usually oversized bag, I prepared to reconnect to the grief and anger I often suppress regarding September 11^th 2001. Although, we are now approaching the eighth year since the towers fell, it still was not that long ago. I was on my way to meet with Bruce Wallace, the founder of “One-to-One Contact”, a blog site that is used as a vehicle for youth connectivity “from Brooklyn to Baghdad.” Originally a space for students to connect to others, worlds apart, revealing the reality and truth of life in Baghdad and bridging the gap between the oceans that separate us and the political and violent misconceptions that breed in that distance. In addition to such outreach, Bruce and his small team of community organizers work out of his home in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn, connecting to others throughout the U.S. through speaking tours to raise awareness and provoke change.

            I first met Bruce and his cofounder ‘Noor’ two years ago as guest speakers for a peace studies class at NYU. ‘Noor’ was a high school teacher in Iraq who experienced the daily violence and terror of war and escaped to the U.S. seeking safety. However, the safety she sought was beyond the violence of physical danger. What she needed was a safe space where her voice could be heard, and the truth of the American intervention in Iraq could be exposed. (‘Noor’ is a pseudonym provided at the risk of exposing her identity.) She learned that carrying the language of truth, one that opposes the current empire she inhabits as well as the violence of her home country, can have dangerous consequences. However, Bruce and ‘Noor’ believe that exposing the political violence perpetuated by the U.S. government and educating the public on the reality of the war is fundamental for change.

            After first hearing them speak, I remember being weighted with such a profound sadness and a feeling of hopelessness beyond anything I had ever experienced. I couldn’t keep it together. For weeks I grieved and tried to carry on with daily life but their voices and stories echoed in my mind and tore at my heart. I realized, as cynical as I am, as politically active and conscious I believed myself to be, there was nothing that could have prepared me for the true nature of the war in Iraq. ‘Noor’ described with a trembling voice filled with both rage and profound sorrow, what it was like living in war-torn Iraq- the bodies that were left to rot on the streets, the bombs that destroyed the schools, and the violent presence of U.S. soldiers. The curfews, the loss of electricity, the unknowing, the loss of family members, and a time when she was held for forty-five minutes by a U.S. soldier as a shield in the middle of a crossfire. This moment broke any remaining hope she had that the U.S. was there to “help” them, “support or protect” them in any way.

            Now, two years later, I know that meeting Bruce and ‘Noor’ and hearing their truth was a necessary shock, one of many I now hope, which will force me to always question my environment and my beliefs. Also, since hearing them speak, I have carried a sense of gratitude for how deeply they moved me and for the personal growth I have experienced since then. So my visiting Bruce was not only to express a long overdue thank you, but to further my understanding of the truth in Iraq, and to further grow from his stories and knowledge. I see Bruce and One-to-One Contact’s work as a reminder to be constantly open, to always seek to relearn, and further educate oneself. And, admittedly, I felt that seeing Bruce again could reconcile some of the emotional difficulties I still carried from two years ago.

Immediately upon arrival I felt warm and comfortable in the quaint furnishings of a home; a space well lived in, surrounded by the intimacy of another’s life. The porcelain trinkets, the placement and order of things. A familiar comfort in the systematic and practicality of each object and their function. Coasters in the coaster holder, breakfast tray for 2 mugs and a French press. The aroma of dark coffee rich and flavorful steamed between us. Charming glass container for the sugar. The normalcy and comfort of routine and my familiar understanding of a need to have a place and space for each thing. I smiled to myself thinking what good roommates we would be. We chatted briefly, asking basic questions, and catching up. I had forgotten how soft-spoken Bruce was, the gentleness in his eyes and his demeanor. Feeling at ease, I asked Bruce to start at the beginning, to retell his experience, his story.

 It all began with Mitch. Mitch was Bruce’s nephew; he was the kind of man people called, ‘upstanding, responsible, and courageous.’ And he was all those things and more up until the day of his death while working in one of the towers. It wasn’t until months later that Mitch’s gun was recovered under the rubble, having been a security guard they were able to match the serial number to his identity. But Mitch’s body was never found. Watching Bruce retell this story, the grief palpable in its recollection, I could see how, despite the time, such a loss will always be experienced in the present.

            I shifted uncomfortably on the couch for a moment, but forced myself to keep my eyes locked to his, knowing the pain they were speaking, the grief they were reflecting was the heart of Bruce’s advocacy and understood that this intimacy of grief, and his sharing it with me was a gift, a lesson and was his story. It would have been disrespectful to shift from his eyes, from his pain, knowing that connecting through empathy can at times be as fleeting as that moment and one could easily miss it. Although he does not need another person to reflect this pain, I felt it was my responsibility to hold my eyes and absorb the profound nature of his loss. The absence of Mitch will always remain for Bruce, his family and all who loved him and now a part of it was in me. A wise woman once said, “You don’t need permission to feel, your direct connection is your empathy…imagine if all the people who questioned the right to care took action.” (Kathy Engel)

            Bruce took action immediately. He wanted to help, to put the pieces together to be a part of and support the effort to make a difference. After a certain point though, both he and his wife realized that part of their efforts were driven by the distraction they provided. Pausing for a moment, he said softly, “we realized that we were so busy helping others that we weren’t taking care of ourselves.”

            Therapy was helpful, as was time, but the energy that remained, the constant of anger and confusion pushed Bruce to seek other options.

            “I could never get comfortable with calling Mitch’s death, and the death of other innocent people, both here and in Iraq, collateral damage.”

            Having a background in activism and community outreach, Bruce was familiar and knowledgeable about the propaganda of media, of the political violence of government, and the dangerous underbelly of military support and “patriotism.”

            “I was full of anger, the nation was being pumped with similar outrage and our government was pointing the finger at Iraq.”

            Personally, I tell Bruce, how I struggle with a daily rage toward our imperialistic empire, our actions, our wars, our violence. I hate knowing that every dollar I spend will end up dirty by supporting Israel, sending arms to Somalia, and continuing the war in Iraq, and the list goes on. I think that knowing the true responsibility we all bare is both our great depression and our revolution for change.

            It was about a year after 9/11 that Bruce was introduced to September Eleventh Families for Peaceful Tomorrows, “Turning Grief into Actions for Peace.” It was here that he felt he had found a space of connectivity as well as peaceful action he believed and supported. Inspired by the actions of others Bruce, having taken up teaching again, held a ‘Peace Day’ presentation at John Dewey High School in Brooklyn that focused on civilian casualties and the real violence of warfare. Although he didn’t know what to expect he was still disturbingly shocked by the absence of education on such matters, especially regarding the current war. The reaction he received from these young adults was profoundly moving. “I wasn’t prepared for such an emotional reaction; it was so heavy, the kids wept and were angry, and in the end wanted to do something, to help in some way, they wanted to write to other students in Iraq.” Bruce’s eyes were distant as he spoke, remembering the events of that day and how these students, this presentation, were what began and helped create One-to-One Contact through the walls of political violence.

            He went on to describe the long and complicated process of organizing and outreach he experienced while trying to create a connection with Iraqi students. As he went through the web of people, faces and names, it almost bordered on comical the way things came together. Bruce said with a smile, “Hey, this is New York, you gotta know somebody to get somewhere.” He reached out to everyone he knew, going through a chain of phone calls and endless emails, misunderstandings and miscommunications- from a woman who worked with international trauma victims to the cell phone number of a taxi driver in Baghdad-who said he knew an important woman working in the education system-which ended up being untrue, but did end up having a sister who was a high school teacher. And this was how Bruce met ‘Noor.’

            It began with these two classrooms, creating an intimacy with a world our nation posed as violent, replacing words like terrorist with friend and Iraqi with students’ names. Using the power of language to express truth, create change, educate, connect, learn, grow and understand one another. (“When we finally discovered that we ourselves were the language…”) The blog’s success has been monumental, helping to raise funds for displaced families and orphaned children due to the war. However, its efficiency has fluctuated along with the turbulent and unstable environment in Baghdad. “One-to-One” faces many challenges, ranging from scarce electricity and availability of the internet, to resistant fighters in Iraq claiming contact with an American is traitorous.

            Looking at his hands, hearing the sadness in his voice, Bruce explained, “When the blog started in 2004, Iraqi’s were still hopeful, but by 2006, when people were without water, without electricity, hope was replaced by fear, as the assassinations started to occur.” The distrust in Americans had manifested a deep hatred, producing resistant groups like the Moqawama. They systematically drove out American forces, threatening translators and reporters, and assassinating those believed to support Americans. The constant danger and fear that became the lives of many, greatly affected “One-to-One’s” contact with Baghdad.

            A silence fell between us for a moment. Sometimes there are no words. Sometimes such moments just need to be absorbed, reflected upon, felt. Sighing Bruce looked at the time, and with a new energy he said, “But, what I feel is truly most important is informing American students about the nature of war and the truth of political violence, civilian casualties, and the forces of our government.” He went on to say how he very much supported and believed in the importance of the Peace Education Movement. In instituting peace studies in high school and college curriculums he believed we could ensure that the absence of information on alternative actions-to militarization, violence, and war- would no longer be an issue. He believed that ‘Peace Day’ presentations would not deeply shock the very core of young adults but rather would be organized by them.

            “One-to-One Contact is not a business, nor is it an official charity; it has always been about educating people.”

            I told Bruce then, how I very much agreed with such compulsory studies and classes. And how I believed that this disconnect to current issues was a reflection of our individualism to a fault. Not only did such disconnect allow for the invisibility of war, but it created a disassociation with each other and inevitably with ourselves. Clearing my throat and struggling against brimming tears, I told Bruce how before hearing him speak with ‘Noor’ two years ago, I was very much out of contact. And that meeting them, hearing their stories, I didn’t realize that a part of me had turned off, that I had adapted in a way to discussing Iraq, the war, without heart, empathy; becoming almost indifferent. The day of their presentation, I relived the impact of 9/11 through an upsurge of emotions I had not realized I was keeping cautiously at bay. And now, sitting in Bruce’s living room, I greeted and accepted these emotions with a new understanding, with the grace that can come with personal growth and the energy and will to make a difference.

            Leaning forward in his seat, eyes narrowed with intention, and his composure taking on one of satisfaction, he said, “That is why the emotional content of the speaking tour is absolutely necessary. We needed to expose people, youth, to the horror and truth of war. Compassion often starts with pain, and such pain and anger create energy. And this energy can be used to grow.”

            We realized then that time had escaped us, causing an unfortunate and abrupt end to our conversation. Getting up to go, collecting my many things, I felt overwhelmed with gratitude and affection, wanting to spend the rest of the day with Bruce, absorbing his energy, learning more about his life in the gentle grayness of the early morning hours. We exchanged thank yous, my hand pressed against my chest, my heart, as I further expressed my gratitude and the delight of his company. While opening the door for my departure, back into the rainy morning, he said how one evening he had gone to a meeting for peace advocacy and community outreach and came home and told his wife excitedly what wonderful people he had met. Looking at me with smiling eyes he said that after telling her she looked at him and said bluntly, “Well what kind of people did you think you were gonna meet at a peace advocacy meeting?”

Smiling and still laughing, buzzing with hope and inspiration, I gripped my umbrella against the rain and walked with a new sense of determination the few blocks to the train.

www.121contact.typepad.com

 www.peacefultomorrows.org

 

June 2 2009 A 'good' day in Iraq, and La Onf: Iraq's peace movement.

So here’s the 'good' news. Yesterday’s, June 1 2009, reported security incidents in Iraq can be summarized as: There were 5 bomb attacks, 2 by mortar, 3 by hand grenade, and 1 by gun. 3 journalists were attacked by a bomb, and security forces are to bury 50 unidentified bodies in Diyala province.

 

Pretty damn good when you hold it up to many days in 2006-8 when that could have been the summary of actions in a single Baghdad neighborhood.

And oil production is up. The recent agreement between Baghdad and the Kurdish leadership is letting northern oil flow with shared profits. And some smaller population centers are beginning to offer a sense of safety to residents. One of our writers, in a small town in the South, just bought a car and he is ecstatically driving around, and around, and around (to the limits of fuel) with his buddies.

 

And here’s better news: There is a growing peace movement in Iraq. It is called La Onf and acts as an umbrella for dozens of smaller groups that are active in reconciliation, women’s rights, and all those other wonderful aspects of  participatory government that need to be tended to so that a just and fair society can function to benefit of all. La Onf's most recent activities have centered around empowerment for women, education about violence against women, and women's issues in general. They are a brave and competent group of volunteers who share a vision of a peaceful Iraq; and they share the will to actually do something about it at the grass-roots level.

There's no 'ask' in this piece, but fair warning: As I find out more about La Onf and ask them what they need I'll be passing on these requests to you. And I expect you to respond with help.You've helped tremendously in the past when Iraq was more frequently in our media. Just because they are becoming the forgotten war doesn't mean we don't still owe them--big time. 

And the bad news: if you have to ask, then I can't really tell you today. I'm just too weary of the pain.

Y'all, have a nice day now,

b

Jan 27 2009 Tolerancy.org - Iraqis move themselves toward peace

Tolerance raises its beautiful head in Iraq with the recent conference, Jan 20^th to  Jan 22nd, with dialogue and planning among many, many different Iraqi factions. Their final declaration is at  HTTP://WWW.TOLERANCY.ORG

In short: a few hundred Iraqis from most Iraqi regions, religions, sects, etc. came together to outline a plan for bringing lasting peace to their nation. This is an Iraqis for Iraq group with no need for American or any other outside influences.

At the heart is a drive to reactivate Iraqi traditions of social coexistence. These traditions have been buried by the Western press under the weight of propaganda justifying the need for a US presence in Iraq. But the Iraqis know where they come from and they know best how to return to the dignity of their shared destiny.

They call for all Clergy to preach tolerance and highlight the unifying, relevant ideas within their own beliefs. They call for government mechanisms and regulations to keep religious speech out of politics.

Perhaps most important in the short term: many of the 20 points they arrived at deal with ensuring that the movement continues with regular meetings, links to clergy and government, and the provision to honor, yearly, those Iraqis who do outstanding work to further this reconciliation movement.

The full text, and a place for your comments