Israel Solidarity Rally: Jan. 8, 2009
Today was the long-awaited pro-Israel rally in Philly. I say long-awaited because while Palestinians and their supporters burned Israeli flags in front of the Israeli Consulate, the Jewish community did nothing. While Palestinians and their supporters shouted lies all over Philadelphia's center city, Jews did not react. I called Federation and JCRC and they said they were either in meetings with other chapters or were sending out talking points to the press. And finally, there was talk of a rally to show solidarity with Israel.
The rally was planned to be one hour long during lunch hour in Love Park, a beloved Philly location for both relaxed lunches and protests/demonstrations/rallies. Reading about the extremism to which freedom of speech was being taken to in other cities, we decided that my Grandparents should not come as they normally would have. I walked the three blocks from the parking garage to Love Park with my two Israeli flags folded and waiting for the safety of the park's perimeter. Honestly, I was expecting 100-200 Jews and supporters and figured there would be 50-60 supporters of Palestinians trying to interrupt the speakers. . My only hope was for the anti-Israel "delegation" not to outnumber the pro-Israel organizers and participants.
As it turned out, there was somewhere between 1500-2000 people who came to the rally. I saw signs from my high school and other day schools in the area. There were people of all ages and from diverse backgrounds. I made my way through the crowd of high school students, ran into two teachers from high school, and tried to count how many police officers and security personnel were in the crowd and surrounding the park. I saw around 20 cops on the sidewalk and several bodyguards by the stage. In the sea of blue and white, I tried to find the black, red, and green of the Palestinians who I was sure would not miss the rally. They didn't disappoint. Standing on the corner of 15th and JFK, they were holding Palestinian flags and signs, yelling about the "true terrorists of the Middle East" and the disproportion of the Israeli response to Hamas.
Holding my Israeli flag, I walked over to see better and realized that more than half of those protesting the rally were not Palestinians at all. There were, of course, several Americans who had things to say about Israel, Palestinians, and how their tax money should be spent. But there were also too many among them holding signs such as "Killing is not a Jewish Value!" and "Philadelphia Jews for Gaza!" Yeah... But then, it got worse/funny! In the front row of this crowd, I saw a familiar face. It was the face of a girl I once knew. We were never friends but had enough mutual friends to see each other once in a while during middle school and high school. She friended me for some reason on FaceBook and for some reason, I confirmed. All I knew at her all these later was that she was raised by two women and somewhere along the line also realized that she is a lesbian. Although, I do not know if "lesbian" is the correct term since she also changed her name to a more male name. Her statuses on FaceBook were always not only pro-Palestinian but vehemently anti-Israel. To this day, I have no idea why I never took her off of my friend list. Maybe out of curiosity... Anyway, there she was, standing 10 feet away from me, with the physical distance between us nothing compared to the vast, anger-filled emptiness that truly separated us. She was standing there with several of her friends of the same lifestyle, holding up signs and screaming at us, telling us to come to our senses, or something along those lines. She lunged forward when she saw me, not in an angry way, but as if trying to just say hi. "I know you," she said. Not loudly, but I heard her. "Yeah," I responded, " I remember you. You're ____ ______," calling her by her new name. I had nothing more to say to her, just as I had nothing to say to her over the past 12 years. She tried to approach me and was stopped by a police officer. "I just want to say hi," she told the cop, but he wouldn't let her walk past him. In case you missed that point of the story, it is this: no matter how "oppressed" and desperate, if an American Jewish lesbian steps foot in Gaza, she will not be met with hugs and kisses, no matter how many rallies she attends on their behalf. Yet there she was, holding signs, yelling her slogans, standing up for what she believed in. Ahh, American freedom of speech and the freedom to be as oblivious as you like... И смех и грех...
While the girl and I shared our moment (and although it seemed to swim by in slow motion, it was no more than two minutes long), the pro-Palestinian counter-demonstrators were getting louder and angrier. The American woman in a kefiyah around her neck shook her sign and yelled, the college student with something resembling dread locks yelled and shook his fist, and as I stood on the steps of Love Park, I noticed that the distance between us was getting smaller. And then, out of [seemingly] nowhere, a [seemingly] endless line of Philadelphia police officers appeared. They walked until they reached the other edge of the park and stood with their backs to us, holding back the counter-demonstrators. Then, someone whispered something into the police captain's ear and he agreed. Another line of police officers walked in front of us and this one faced us. My guess is that this was politcal correctness: make it look as if both groups need to be held back. As the cops were walking past us, I kept thanking them for being there. I couldn't stop thinking of the other countries I've been to and lived where cops don't always keep the peace and remain impartial. A renewed sense of love for this country swept over me as I saw the lines of Philadelphia police officers, interfering only when they absolutely had to but not commenting to either group, and keeping a face that betrayed nothing of the thoughts inside. The heated screaming and "discussing" on both sides was so intense that the cops refused to let people come through, they were asked to go around so as not to find themselves surrounded by people on the other side.
While speakers on stage spoke of a need and desire for peace, the people across from us yelled about bombing children and American tax dollars funding terror. I yelled back and asked about kassams that had been falling on Israeli cities for the past several years. "Those things are like firecrackers!!!!", yelled back the white kid with a sign. Wow... What do you say to that? That's what the frustrating thing was, they were not interested in facts, they had their slogans and their sad pictures. They demanded us to see Palestinian deaths as important and tragic without giving Israeli lives any value. They had clever rhymes but loud voices. I heard people around me yelling back, yelling facts and asking why they don't leave if they hate American so much. When I got tired of arguing with people who really weren't there to listen, I only yelled back: "Make peace, not rhymes!" Only... only I can't really scream. Did you know that? I can't really scream because I never learned, I never had to. When I try, it first comes out fine but by the end of the sentence resembles something like a truck that won't start. :) Eventually, Zhen'ka said with a smile: "Every time you yell, I think you're going to have a heart attack." No heart attack but by the end, I was pretty hoarse.
There was a lot of press at the rally, a reporter from "The Philadelphia Inquirer" asked me several questions and I saw trucks for most Philadelphia channels in the street. What I overheard was positive and balanced, they asked questions from both sides. Watching the news, however, I noticed a skewed perspective but what can you do, right? (For example, channel 6 interviewed a Palestinian man who spoke of how hard it is to see what's going on in Gaza and how unfair it is. I guess the reporter couldn't find an Israeli family with relatives in Israel under daily attacks for the past eight years, huh?) They did, however, mention that unlike the Palestinian demonstration where an Israeli flag was burned, this one was meant to be--and remained--peaceful!
I walked away from the rally happy, encouraged, and feeling as if my internal battery was recharged! For that hour, even though there were 50 enemies in front of me, there were over a thousand friends behind me. I heard Jewish music, I heard laughter, I heard support, and I saw faces of people representing all Americans telling me that I am not alone! No matter how alone I may feel when stumbling around the current events websites or among the anonymous bloggers who come with messages of hate, in Love Park I did not feel alone because I saw that there are people who see a purpose to what we're doing and a need to do it until the job is done!
Fallen IDF soldiers of Operation Cast Lead We will remember them, G-d will avenge their deaths!
The rally was planned to be one hour long during lunch hour in Love Park, a beloved Philly location for both relaxed lunches and protests/demonstrations/rallies. Reading about the extremism to which freedom of speech was being taken to in other cities, we decided that my Grandparents should not come as they normally would have. I walked the three blocks from the parking garage to Love Park with my two Israeli flags folded and waiting for the safety of the park's perimeter. Honestly, I was expecting 100-200 Jews and supporters and figured there would be 50-60 supporters of Palestinians trying to interrupt the speakers. . My only hope was for the anti-Israel "delegation" not to outnumber the pro-Israel organizers and participants.
As it turned out, there was somewhere between 1500-2000 people who came to the rally. I saw signs from my high school and other day schools in the area. There were people of all ages and from diverse backgrounds. I made my way through the crowd of high school students, ran into two teachers from high school, and tried to count how many police officers and security personnel were in the crowd and surrounding the park. I saw around 20 cops on the sidewalk and several bodyguards by the stage. In the sea of blue and white, I tried to find the black, red, and green of the Palestinians who I was sure would not miss the rally. They didn't disappoint. Standing on the corner of 15th and JFK, they were holding Palestinian flags and signs, yelling about the "true terrorists of the Middle East" and the disproportion of the Israeli response to Hamas.
Holding my Israeli flag, I walked over to see better and realized that more than half of those protesting the rally were not Palestinians at all. There were, of course, several Americans who had things to say about Israel, Palestinians, and how their tax money should be spent. But there were also too many among them holding signs such as "Killing is not a Jewish Value!" and "Philadelphia Jews for Gaza!" Yeah... But then, it got worse/funny! In the front row of this crowd, I saw a familiar face. It was the face of a girl I once knew. We were never friends but had enough mutual friends to see each other once in a while during middle school and high school. She friended me for some reason on FaceBook and for some reason, I confirmed. All I knew at her all these later was that she was raised by two women and somewhere along the line also realized that she is a lesbian. Although, I do not know if "lesbian" is the correct term since she also changed her name to a more male name. Her statuses on FaceBook were always not only pro-Palestinian but vehemently anti-Israel. To this day, I have no idea why I never took her off of my friend list. Maybe out of curiosity... Anyway, there she was, standing 10 feet away from me, with the physical distance between us nothing compared to the vast, anger-filled emptiness that truly separated us. She was standing there with several of her friends of the same lifestyle, holding up signs and screaming at us, telling us to come to our senses, or something along those lines. She lunged forward when she saw me, not in an angry way, but as if trying to just say hi. "I know you," she said. Not loudly, but I heard her. "Yeah," I responded, " I remember you. You're ____ ______," calling her by her new name. I had nothing more to say to her, just as I had nothing to say to her over the past 12 years. She tried to approach me and was stopped by a police officer. "I just want to say hi," she told the cop, but he wouldn't let her walk past him. In case you missed that point of the story, it is this: no matter how "oppressed" and desperate, if an American Jewish lesbian steps foot in Gaza, she will not be met with hugs and kisses, no matter how many rallies she attends on their behalf. Yet there she was, holding signs, yelling her slogans, standing up for what she believed in. Ahh, American freedom of speech and the freedom to be as oblivious as you like... И смех и грех...
While the girl and I shared our moment (and although it seemed to swim by in slow motion, it was no more than two minutes long), the pro-Palestinian counter-demonstrators were getting louder and angrier. The American woman in a kefiyah around her neck shook her sign and yelled, the college student with something resembling dread locks yelled and shook his fist, and as I stood on the steps of Love Park, I noticed that the distance between us was getting smaller. And then, out of [seemingly] nowhere, a [seemingly] endless line of Philadelphia police officers appeared. They walked until they reached the other edge of the park and stood with their backs to us, holding back the counter-demonstrators. Then, someone whispered something into the police captain's ear and he agreed. Another line of police officers walked in front of us and this one faced us. My guess is that this was politcal correctness: make it look as if both groups need to be held back. As the cops were walking past us, I kept thanking them for being there. I couldn't stop thinking of the other countries I've been to and lived where cops don't always keep the peace and remain impartial. A renewed sense of love for this country swept over me as I saw the lines of Philadelphia police officers, interfering only when they absolutely had to but not commenting to either group, and keeping a face that betrayed nothing of the thoughts inside. The heated screaming and "discussing" on both sides was so intense that the cops refused to let people come through, they were asked to go around so as not to find themselves surrounded by people on the other side.
While speakers on stage spoke of a need and desire for peace, the people across from us yelled about bombing children and American tax dollars funding terror. I yelled back and asked about kassams that had been falling on Israeli cities for the past several years. "Those things are like firecrackers!!!!", yelled back the white kid with a sign. Wow... What do you say to that? That's what the frustrating thing was, they were not interested in facts, they had their slogans and their sad pictures. They demanded us to see Palestinian deaths as important and tragic without giving Israeli lives any value. They had clever rhymes but loud voices. I heard people around me yelling back, yelling facts and asking why they don't leave if they hate American so much. When I got tired of arguing with people who really weren't there to listen, I only yelled back: "Make peace, not rhymes!" Only... only I can't really scream. Did you know that? I can't really scream because I never learned, I never had to. When I try, it first comes out fine but by the end of the sentence resembles something like a truck that won't start. :) Eventually, Zhen'ka said with a smile: "Every time you yell, I think you're going to have a heart attack." No heart attack but by the end, I was pretty hoarse.
There was a lot of press at the rally, a reporter from "The Philadelphia Inquirer" asked me several questions and I saw trucks for most Philadelphia channels in the street. What I overheard was positive and balanced, they asked questions from both sides. Watching the news, however, I noticed a skewed perspective but what can you do, right? (For example, channel 6 interviewed a Palestinian man who spoke of how hard it is to see what's going on in Gaza and how unfair it is. I guess the reporter couldn't find an Israeli family with relatives in Israel under daily attacks for the past eight years, huh?) They did, however, mention that unlike the Palestinian demonstration where an Israeli flag was burned, this one was meant to be--and remained--peaceful!
I walked away from the rally happy, encouraged, and feeling as if my internal battery was recharged! For that hour, even though there were 50 enemies in front of me, there were over a thousand friends behind me. I heard Jewish music, I heard laughter, I heard support, and I saw faces of people representing all Americans telling me that I am not alone! No matter how alone I may feel when stumbling around the current events websites or among the anonymous bloggers who come with messages of hate, in Love Park I did not feel alone because I saw that there are people who see a purpose to what we're doing and a need to do it until the job is done!
Fallen IDF soldiers of Operation Cast Lead We will remember them, G-d will avenge their deaths!