6:45 a.m.

I walk out the door, into the street.

Five or six young men are leaning against cars and a tall metal house-gate they all face toward a tree, around which candles, posters and flowers rest. Most candles, including the three my friends and I left last nice are long burned-out. I wonder if the young mens’ eyes are red from lack of sleep or crying.

In an attempt not to interrupt, I walk on the grass as I pass.

“Is this your car,” one boy asks me, thinking the car he leans on is my off-center destination.

“No, you’re fine.”

“Why you walk around like that?” a young man questions, from across the sidewalk.

“I didn’t want to interrupt….I’m really sorry about your friend.”

I stare at the picture of their murdered friend. Probably a couple of years younger than me, black, dreadlocks, smiling….I don’t know more to the story. Just that he died because of gang violence and a couple of his friends were also shot.

“Where you going,” the young man snaps me into the present.

“Starbucks?” He prompts

“No, I’m going to class.”

He mumbles something I can’t distinguish.

“What?”
“Down the street?”

“No, downtown, National Louis.”

“So you’re taking the train, what stop you getting off at?”

“I’m going South…It’s in the loop.”

“I guess that’s where all the tall buildings are,” he says, shrugging. “What’s your name?”

“Lily. What’s yours?”

“You can call me T.”

“Nice to meet you T, who are your friends?”

A couple tell me what they go by, another couple have earphones in their ears and do not answer.

I wonder how long they’ll stand there. How long they’ve been in their gang. If they’re afraid. If they’re angry.

I wonder why I didn’t simply say “good morning,” as I walked by.

Artificial barriers–the unknown, fear, lack of education on all sides.

As I walk toward the L, T calls after me. “I like your purple shirt.”

Crossing the street, I see the road leading to Dylan apartment is blocked off with cones and yellow plastic. I remember the curious text she sent me before, asking me to come in through the back porch, i.e. walk through the long alley instead of the front door.

I’d imagined it was because of some new furniture or other house-related issue.

I wish.

Dylan had witnessed a shooting a couple of hours prior. She had jumped up when she heard gunshots and seen a couple young men in our street ducking behind cars. One clutched above his chest. He was shot.Police came and questioned her in the moments that followed. The violence was gang-related. There had been violence the last few weeks.

Though we never expected to see this violence on our street, though it scares me, this is ultimately why we’re here. This is what we have heard stories about throughout the summer training to be teachers in urban, title 1 schools.

Sitting in the living room alone (Dylan needed to get out of the house after that but I have too much work) I wonder about those young men in the street. We’ve seen them every day since we moved here last Saturday. “I have a feeling I’ll get to know those boys pretty well,” Dylan had stated as we walked from the house a day ago.

Later we learn the young man died and another is hurt. Senseless loss. There are noises outside. They’re probably just lightning, but I wonder about gunshots.

Senseless loss.  A reality for so many of the students I have already taught this summer and will teach in the Fall.

Senseless loss. Earlier today I witnessed an inspiring English class at a charter school. The students, who had all failed classes during the year, engaged in debate about the U.S. tax policy, evolution and creationism.  They read and analyzed Arthur Schnitzler’s “Lieutenant Gustl,” and considered themes of morality, honor and religion.

There is no issue with their intellect. They are brilliant, inspiring, sharp and witty. They’ve simply been neglected by our system. Failed by low expectations, lack of individual attention and and an alien curriculum.  Caught in a chasm– the violence, poverty, friends and family with low levels of education on one side and the massive, sometimes impersonal, system of state standards and overworked teachers on the other.

“Where are you? What is the context for this?”  You might ask. Last time you blogged we were debating shot-up Macbooks and Israel/Palestine. In a nutshell, I returned to Boston and  graduated from Northeastern University. I moved to Chicago where I’m training through Teach for America to teach special education in Chicago public schools.

I’ve resisted blogging for a while. I’ve been busy. Plus, I’m still unsure that I want any additional information about my life on this blog.

This blog that I wished as a vehicle to share experience but that became solely focused on one event, or more accurately, one continuous saga filled with hatred and anger. While there are many parts worth discussing, debating and of course resolving, it was not occurring productively here.

Yet my life goes on. I have other stories to share. This is a way to communicate with family and friends across the country and world. This is for anyone else curious for a single perspective.  For myself because I enjoy writing, and posting pictures. I enjoy expressing.

I will continue posting. Most content will likely revolve around my experiences teaching in Chicago public schools.

Currently I’m following a winding trail of repetitive non-answers, referrals and ambiguity. What I’ve learned, more than anything so far is people all over the spectrum–from journalists, travelers, human rights activists in Israel/Palestine, lawyers (at least in the States–waiting to hear from Israelis)  and embassy employees, is there is a lack of knowledge. Though border-crossing  tips are out there, when it comes to rights, many draw blanks.

For example, while Israel has the right to deny an individual entry, do they have the right to demand information about the contacts in a person’s phone–is an individual obligated to give up a friend’s telephone number? Can they read journals, look through photos? At one point they asked me if I had a password for my computer. They never asked what the password was. Did they have other means of accessing information on it? Do security concerns equate a blank check?

Or are there limits. For example, can a traveler choose to end a search and return back to where they came (something potentially difficult considering you’re trying to get back in a country without evidence of being in another….) ? If Israelis suspect a person of being a terrorist it seems counter-intuitive they would let them simply go back the way they came. Can a person ask to speak to a representative from their embassy during a search?

These are some of the questions I’m hoping to answer. If anyone has any knowledge or ideas, I would appreciate the help! I’m currently waiting to hear-back from some Israeli lawyers and someone at the American embassy. (The exchange with the embassy has persisted for a number of days without helpful results thus-far…)

P.S. My goals is only to educate! Not knowing your rights is being helpless.

Also consider, tourism is positive for Israel/Palestine (and most other nations). Letting travelers know what to expect at the border and how procedures work and what their rights are might encourage hesitant individuals.

Where I waited(taking pictures!) while my computer was shot....

Maybe you’re outside, see something interesting and want to write it down, maybe you want to remember something, you could be reading something and you want to take notes. Maybe you’re on an airplane or a train and want to journal your thoughts.

I’ve felt completely de-powered in these situations. In the luckier instances, I’ve resorted to using eyeliner, highlighters or anything I got my hands on, which could make marks I could hopefully read in the future–or at least, express myself in the moment. In these situations I’ve always felt surprised. Surprised at extent I’m distressed by my lack of ability to record.

What does writing mean to you?  How do you use the skill? To me it’s expressing my thoughts, a way for me to think “out-loud,” a way to sort things out, clear my mind, learn, communicate with others and myself, remember, keep records, schedule and manage my time, state opinions, respond to others, ask questions, create, etc. And then there’s reading, which especially with internet access, is access to knowledge.

In the U.S. and around the world,  millions cannot read and write. While there are many other ways to express oneself– think art, dance, talking, etc–not all are as peaceful and productive as having the ability to get ones thoughts out in writing. Think violence, vocal outbursts, etc.

In Afghanistan around 28 percent of the population is literate—out of women, only 12.6 percent. I just watched part of a Frontline piece about the U.S. operation there and in Pakistan. How would it be different if those people in villages in Afghanistan were blogging and reading online? Many likely have TVs, but it is not the same kind of power to actively seek and choose information and there is no feedback. No means to inject one’s own experiences and opinions.Increase cultural exchange, increase cross-cultural understanding….

 How many people around the world of all ages have some kind of online expression, whether a blog, twitter, Facebook, even professional communication sites such as linkedin.  Writing online, reading online, news online, inter-human connections online. People who cannot read and write cannot participate in this.

Another question, what is the internet like for non-English speakers? What about those who speak uncommon languages. To what extent is information available in different languages (barring government censorship of sites), are translations available and usable?….If Wikipedia is any clue, the numbers are drastically different with changes in tongue. Over 3,180,000 in English, with Dutch coming in second place, (can that be possible?) with over 1,019,000.

Just some thoughts to start the day. Please contribute yours!

So as the title says–yes, Israel reimbursed me for around 80 percent of the cost for a replacement laptop. I got the reimbursement in late December. Since people are still asking me, I’m *finally* posting this.

Thanks to those of you who left me encouraging comments and sent emails about my laptop, traveling, writing, conflict, etc. I am sorry I did not answer many of them. I did read everything and feel enormously lucky to be privy to so many perspectives.

To all those who bombarded my blog with negative comments–to only proclaiming hate for Israelis/Palestinians/Americans/Muslims, to accusing me of leaving my bag unattended (I did not) and never backing-up (I did–but yes, I should have more often): Travel. Read. If you’re in the U.S. take advantage of our amazing diversity and meet new people. If you’re an Israeli, why don’t you visit a Palestinian area? I know I’ll be criticized for saying this and I by no means thinks it’s the rule, however most Israelis I met had never been to a Palestinian area and thought I was crazy for going to Ramallah (which is perfectly safe and 20 minutes from Jerusalem). Likewise, I was shocked by how many Palestinians do not attempt to learn Hebrew. While I understand the repulsion for many, let’s face reality. How can solutions be reached without common languages?

There is tons I do not know about the Israel, Palestinians, Muslims, Jews, etc. I’m learning and with what I learn will likely change some opinions. This is my blogs, my opinions. I’m not a politician, not a journalist, I try to research and write informed entries, however I do not always censor my views or hide my ignorance. So don’t read if you do not want to…I hope you, like me, will be inspired to learn more by this incident, (more precisely the reaction to it).I’m all for criticizing– just make it worthwhile, debatable, something we can work with.

Ok. I’m writing too much. I intended this to be a short sweet post. Actually a reading break.

Yes…post-Israel, I spent a couple last days in Egypt, a couple crazy weeks reuniting with family and friends in NY, and now I’m back Boston, finishing my *last* undergraduate semester.

I miss blogging…but simply have no time now with school work, job, etc. One of these days I plan to catch-up and get back into it =)

HURRY! Polls close at 8p.m.

Though the election was never expected to be close (Coakley was a sure favorite), it seems is–think discontent and mixed feelings of the health care reform. In other terms: This election matters and MA voters know it.

————–

Though still a New Yorker when it comes to voting, the election felt more personal after this Sunday when President Obama rallied for Martha Coakley (D), on Northeastern’s campus.

NUTV filmed Obama’s entire speech and reported hopeful audience formed a line as early as 4 a.m for doors which opened at 1p.m.

I joined the line around 11a.m. At around 1:30 a police car drove by (we were on Huntington Ave. across from Temptations Cafe) and told us the space–Cabot Gym–was already filled.

Though disappointed to miss Obama, waiting on line was no bust.  Seeing NU’s familiar campus fill with supporters and protesters was inspiring.

—

Since I left she progressed from sounding-out-words to reading chapter books.

‘I want to hear you read!’ I demanded of her.

‘OK….which book?’

A pile of holiday books lay on the floor.

No competition. I picked an eternal favorite, How the Grinch Stole Christmas by Dr. Seuss.

It was even better than I remembered (love those rhymes!), and so wise.

“And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow, stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so? It came without ribbons. It came without tags. It came without packages, boxes or bags. And he puzzled and puzzled ’till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn’t before. What if Christmas, he thought, doesn’t come from a store. What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more.”

Happy Holidays!

Why do we think how we do? What shapes our lives?  What can we learn? The following is a series of anecdotes, which in part, explain how I have reached certain opinions. I have received a lot of personal criticism over the last few days. This is my response.

Thanks for reading!

Though Israel has yet to compensate me for their bullets through my laptop, my life and work must go on. Not having a computer for two weeks has been interesting–in Israel I had little distraction from human interactions. Back in Egypt I couldn’t keep up with the explosion of laptop-shooting-hype.

Now I’m back. Ready to take you along for my laptop debacle, approve your comments, and keep on blogging–like I did for the last eight months for my friends and family.

———————

At the Apple Store on Bolyston street in Boston, I purchase a new Macbook. The options have changed for the better since my last purchase. Sweet!

The Apple’s techies say they can only transfer the data from my hard drive if I can bring in the computer. Yeah…Not happening.

I call a couple friends with love for Macs. There are a lot of those people in college…..My friend hooks me up with his external casing, and shouts the good news–your hard-drive survived! Everything’s here!

In the following hours my friends have to remind me I’ve been across the world for eight months and deserve to spend time with them, not my new computer with beloved old data and lots of emails.

My goal on this trip was to explore and learn. To see things for myself.

I’m using this incident as a chance to discuss, learn and question. I hope you’ll join me….

I loved my experience, learned a lot and hope to share more positive anecdotes, as well as laptop updates, in the coming days.

Also, thanks for the invitations, however I am no longer in Israel or the Palestinian areas.