I am.
But if you insist,
Then I will tell you.
I am.
Indian. Hindu.
My husband
Pakistani. Muslim.
If you insist
I’ll tell you.
I am. He is.
in constant fear of a war that ends in nuclear holocaust.
Islamophobia grows under Modi.
I am the woman with Jewish in-laws – Diamonds, Colters, Hirskowitzes.
Our thanksgiving table has Muslims, Jews, Hindus, Christians, Atheists
Communists too.
As a child,
My passport
and across the border,
My husband’s,
stamped
not valid for the Republic of South Africa and Israel.
Reason: Apartheid.
In the 50s and 60s
Our homes supported the struggles of the PLO and ANC.
Yasir Arafat, Nelson Mandela, Castro, Nasser, Attaturk, and Tito.
Our heros anti-imperialist.
Foreign policy non-aligned.
Our Jewish community Indian.
Sasoon docks, Juddah Gubbey, Jael Silliman,
Admiral Sampson
my grandfather’s best friend.
In the 70s most left for Israel.
Synagogues closed.
A few elders remain – not enough for a service.
I am.
But if you insist,
I will tell you.
I am.
Feminist. Activist.
At the Global Fund for Women
through the turn of a century
we hear from women
everywhere
speaking their truth
calling for freedom.
Our modest grants holding
Space,
Hope,
Solidarity.
Israeli Jewish women
secular, reform, orthodox
fighting patriarchy and patriarchs
demanding
the right
to pray at the Wall,
freedom to marry of their own choice
practice religion or not
use birth control
halt trafficking in women – many from Ukraine
cease glorifying weapons to children
resist battering by
militarized, traumatized
policemen of
occupied territories.
Arab women
demanding
rights as full Israeli citizens
freedom from abusive homes
the violence of a dominant culture
that diminishes their heritage
their right to be where they are
who they are.
Colonized women
in Gaza and West Bank
challenging, cajoling, counseling
angry, despairing
jobless men.
demanding education,
refusing silence around
queerness and atheism.
mobilizing against occupation,
An end to checkpoints
where they wait for hours
stop, plead, give birth,
prove they belong
To the land of their ancestors.
Some women dare to dream
of peace
across faiths
of a shared capital
Arab, Jew, Christian
in the holiest
of holy.
They write a white paper
Jerusalem Link.
No official dares respond
their radical vision
meets
Silence.
I am.
But if you insist,
I will tell you.
Traveller. Witness.
to resistance, resilience
in feminist movements.
2005
2 weeks
Jerusalem/Tel Aviv/Ramallah/Hebron
3 days in Gaza
Women using music, art, and sports
to give children hope in a future.
Women
Definite. Determined. Defiant.
Outspoken.
Why we voted for Hamas, you ask?
You think we like being told how to dress?
Forced to cover?
You think we accept hateful prejudice?
We are pragmatic.
Disgust at the corruption of Fatah
Grateful for the support of medical care, ambulances, widows’ pension,
the means to bury a child
his football jersey covered in blood.
I am.
But if you insist,
I will tell you.
I am.
Accomplice. Complicit.
paying US taxes that support
death drones, cluster bombs and white phosphorous.
Today,
In wealthy cities,
New York, San Francisco, Paris, London, Berlin
the homeless
live in tents
cardboard beds
sprawled on the steps
Of a church, the subway,
doors close.
We turn away
take another route.
Sometimes we offer a dollar or two.
Palestinians are the world’s homeless
refugees in Egypt, Lebanon, Jordan, Syria, Iraq,
places we know.
We turn away,
take another route
away from the shadows
that make us feel a certain kind of way.
Sometimes we offer aid,
band aid?
Evicted, displaced, denied, hounded
unhoused, untethered,
Undone.
Denied the right to return
Home?
Home
is rubble remains
by bulldozers in Jerusalem
And in Gaza
by bombs.
Yet, Palestinians,
refuse to disappear.
homeless
stateless
no matter
where they live
undocumented
Someone else controls the water, electricity, land,
cuts down olive trees.
signs of peace.
Still they ARE.
Palestinian embroidery
metaphor for a land and people ripped asunder
crosses marking where a child was buried
a limb severed
a lover lost.
After each disaster
women teach their children
water the olive trees
love this land
remember you are of it
your right to it
never ever forget.
when the fire stops raining from the sky
Someone has to clean up.
as always,
the women come
saying,
I am. Here.
But us?
All of us?
Where are we?
(The author, Kavita N. Ramdas is an advocate for gender equity and justice. She is a visiting professor at the Princeton University’s School of Public and International Affairs. She was recently named Activist in Residence at the Global Fund for Women)