Everyone for Everyone
My experience participating in Jewish-led protests for Ceasefire
Over the last two weeks I attended two Jewish-led protests calling for a ceasefire in Israel/Palestine. My partner and I traveled to Washington DC to attend a demonstration hosted by IfNotNow calling on Congress and Biden to demand a ceasefire. I was nervous, I didn’t want to tell my parents because I knew they’d be worried about me attending a public Jewish event. We arrived and waited for the program to start; once it did I quickly remembered that for years, ritual in the streets was my synagogue.
I felt something I hadn’t felt at home scrolling online, I felt there was room for all of us. That there was enough space for the grief and loss of Palestinians and Israelis. That there was space to speak out against anti-Semitism and to condemn Israel’s bombing and ground invasion in Gaza which has killed over 10,000 Palestinians including almost 4,000 children. There was space to mourn the 1,400 Israelis killed on October 7th, to call to free the hostages, and to demand a ceasefire now. I felt proud to be there - alongside Jews and others singing for our shared humanity.
We marched to the capitol and again I remembered what it felt like to be with my people in the streets. Jewish people yes, but also all people who believe in safety and freedom for everyone.
I didn’t know what the plan was when we arrived at the capitol, but I had heard we were going to do a meaningful ritual. When we arrived, the police had blocked the ritual space that the organizers had set up prior. They eventually moved after a few minutes and we made our way towards a reflecting pool in front of the capitol. There was a large pile of stones. IfNotNow leaders explained that we were going to pass the stones down a line and place them at the doorstep of the capitol. They told us that the Hebrew word for pebble is “tzror” which means bond and the laying of stones at a graveside is a Jewish mourning practice. We passed the stones, to honor and bond us to all those who have been killed, in a line in silence. We read out the names of the people who were murdered and repeatedly recited the mourner's Kaddish, the prayer for the deceased.
I wept in public for the first time since Jews were murdered in Pittsburgh five years ago. I wept for Palestinian and Israeli children. Name after name, ages 1, 2, 4, 7 years old. I wept for entire Palestinian families, dozens of people sharing the same last name who have been taken from this earth. And again for the first time since this began, I felt there was enough space for everyone.
Last weekend, Israeli families of the hostages taken by Hamas met with Netanyahu urging him to prioritize the return of their family members over bombing Gaza. After the meeting they held protests calling for a prisoner swap, chanting “כולם תמורת כולם” which can be translated to “Everyone for Everyone.”
Everyone for everyone. Beyond the specific demand for a prisoner swap, this demand signifies something much bigger, something that finally articulates what I’ve felt viscerally in my body this whole time. All people deserve safety and freedom. There must be enough space for Palestinians, Israelis, Muslims, Jews, all people to live in peace. And as Dr. Martin Luther King Jr said, “ True peace is not merely the absence of tension; it is the presence of justice.”
Progressive strategist Waleed Shahid wrote a piece where he unpacked recent critiques of the left and lifted up the messaging of congressmembers and leaders who are willing to hold space for Israeli and Palestinian lives and call for a ceasefire. Waleed writes,
“I’ve seen the most people cry this week in public since 9/11. Tears spill when your body can’t comprehend the reality it faces and something must release. But tears, regardless of who and where they originate from, are made of the same stuff: two atoms of hydrogen joined to a single atom of oxygen. The basis of solidarity is seeing someone else’s burden and trying to lighten the load. That doesn’t mean that there isn’t a deep, systemic power imbalance between the ability for Palestinians to live free as compared to Israelis or that Palestinian rights activists aren’t deeply criminalized and policed in the United States and abroad. But it does mean that pain is still pain, and that death is still death, even if it isn’t distributed equally. Solidarity across difference doesn’t just happen; it is forged. It is forged through pain and conflict, through relationships and common values, through love and struggle, through decency and humility, and through emotional and material resources.”
Last Thursday, Jewish Voices for Peace organized a sit-in at 30th Street Station in Philadelphia. Rabbis and fellow clergy led the program in what is being called the largest interfaith protest for ceasefire.
Hundreds filled the iconic train station and sat down in an act of civil disobedience. We adopted the chant from Israelis, “Everyone for everyone”, and once again I had the feeling I was at synagogue.
The faith leaders took over Amtrak’s central operating area, and eventually were arrested by Philadelphia police.
While I’ve felt lost and alone over the last four weeks, brave and visionary Jewish leaders are showing us a path forward. I am glad to have followed and joined in their righteous call, “Everyone for Everyone, Ceasefire Now!”
I wept as I read this. Thank you for sharing. 🩷
I'm proud of you Pele! Your vision is true.