Three weeks ago, I sat on a rock overlooking the West Bank: the high tension Palestinian occupied territory that runs along the Eastern border of Israel and the Western border of Jordan.
I was with birthright: a foundation that provides free trips to Israel for Jewish young adults. As we sat on this rock, a Palestinian speaker was telling us a story.
“There was a Palestinian boy visiting the Golan Heights,” he said, referring to the rugged mountain region in the north of Israel. “He wandered into a mine field, and accidently stumbled over an active mine. Normally, this wouldn’t have been a problem, there are numerous nearby hospitals that treat similar injuries with regularity. However, he had to drive five hours to a hospital in the West Bank, because Israeli hospitals won’t admit a Palestinian. He bled out in the car and died.” He was only eight years old.
I believe in coexistence. As I traveled through Israel over winter break, it’s evident that self-segregation between Israelis and Palestinians is omnipresent. However, it’s even more evident that this quasi apartheid hinders the lives of both groups. Economically, the Israeli government financially placates the territories in an effort to dissuade Palestinians from attacking Israel. Frequently, however, this money and these materials in fact fund terroristic missions. Culturally, Jerusalem, the Holy City for both Islam and Judaism, is so bogged down by security it’s nearly impossible to get around. If you’re a Palestinian, good luck reaching the Wailing Wall. And if you’re a Jewish tourist, it may be even tougher to visit the Dome of the Rock.
Yes, segregation, especially self-segregation, impedes the progress of both groups of people. Yet learning to live peacefully with an ethnicity that you’re taught to hate is no easy task. For example, we traveled with eight Israeli soldiers: many of them said they refused to fall asleep on a public bus while in uniform because they worried a Palestinian boy would stab him or her, as has happened multiple times in the past months.
In Israel, everyone has a different opinion, and there is no saliently correct answer. But the issue of coexistence extends much further than the West Bank or the Gaza Strip. On a much more micro level, we deal with it everyday: with those we live with, those we learn with, and those we play with.
In college, our dorm hallways are lined with posters urging us to respect each other’s differences. If someone has an opposing view, we’re taught to respectfully listen to our peer, and then go our separate directions. But that’s not what coexistence means. Instead, we should embrace our dissimilarities, and learn from each other. My hall is an eclectic mix of kids from backgrounds unlike my own. But I’ve learned more from the kids on it than I have in 18 years of hanging out with kids that share so many of my beliefs.
This I believe: I should learn from my neighbors who are different than me. If we all do that, maybe fewer innocent eight year olds won’t unnecessarily die.
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