Complicity

Conversation and Tea in a Palestinian refugee camp. January 2016.

“Never be afraid to raise your voice for honesty and truth and compassion against injustice and lying and greed. If people all over the world...would do this, it would change the earth.”  ~William Faulkner

One freezing January several years ago, I was sitting on the floor of a friend’s house in a refugee camp. We crowded around a propane heater, drinking gallons of sage tea, and having a deep conversation about the Great Gatsby, my favorite book. Then the discussion shifted to my country and why Americans view Palestinians the way they do. You know, a fluffy topic with a Palestinian refugee.

At one point, my friend looked at me and said I differed from other Americans because I was there, in a refugee camp. I told him not really. I’m still complicit. I might work in a Palestinian refugee camp, I might love Palestinians, but I am very American. I am caught by a circle of advantage over them no matter how I try to even it out. My freedom comes at someone else’s expense on some level. I’m in the system. Where are the clothes I buy made? In a sweatshop in Southeast Asia? Who grows the food I eat? Do I eat too much meat? How does my trash or electricity, or gasoline use contribute to global warming? How does my consumption oppress others? How do my country’s policies worldwide protect my freedom but take away someone else’s?

While I can do things like recycle, drive an electric vehicle, and buy products from ethical companies, I cannot fully extradite myself out. I’m in too deep as a citizen of the United States. That I have time and space to think through these topics also shows the luxury I have.

My answer surprised him. But I felt it was the truth, and I needed to be honest with him and myself.

That’s the key, being honest with oneself. I can’t even tell you how many times I teach on Palestinian refugees and how guilty people feel about how ignorant they are with Middle East politics or at their own abundance. I get it, but being stuck on that keeps us from moving forward. Maybe instead of feeling guilty, a better question to ask is, how can I influence the situation? What can I do to make a more equitable table for all to sit at?

But there is a cost for using your freedom for others.

This January, King Soopers (a local branch of Kroger supermarkets) went on strike for better pay and working conditions during a pandemic. As a little girl, my dad was a carpenter and on strike a lot with his union. I cannot cross a picket line, no matter what. There is a plug-in station for my electric vehicle in the parking lot of a King Soopers. As my car charged, I watched customers who crossed the picket line. They walked on foot there with no car and I assumed had no other option but to go to that store to shop. I assumed they were lower income and didn’t have the options I had to shop elsewhere. The interesting thing, these customers didn’t hassle the picketers and the picketers didn’t harass them. I think they understood each other’s predicament. 

Choosing not to cross a picket line or working from home in a pandemic or paying fees to have someone else collect your groceries or taking the day off to join a protest or a march are all choices you can make when you have a level of comfort in life. We need to remember that not all people, even in our own country, have those options. Most importantly, the question is not what others are doing or what they are not doing, that is not in your control. But what are you being called to and are you living that out?

The cost might be feeling alone or relearning what you thought you knew. You might lose some of your comforts, finances, or relationships by standing with the marginalized. All of which are humbling. 

Maybe the difference my friend saw in me was my willingness to travel outside my comfort zone, engage, and learn. I believe that’s what my life is about - using all my talents, resources, and platform, not for myself, but for Palestinian refugees.

The question is not if I am complicit in the suffering of Palestinians. The question is, what will I do about it?

“Silence becomes cowardice when occasion demands speaking out the whole truth and acting accordingly.” ~Mahatma Gandhi