The failed Middle East peace process and ensuing violence has not only taken the lives of more than two dozen Israelis and some 200 Palestinians (many of whom are in the same age group as these Chicago teens), it’s also taken its emotional toll on this largely Muslim community. Like many of America’s 300,000 Palestinians–most of whom live in Chicago and Detroit–they mourn the death of compatriots, worry about the safety of relatives on the West Bank and remain frustrated by what they see as slanted American coverage of the conflict. But the turmoil is especially hard on these youths, who as Americans and Palestinians, are caught between warring cultures and dueling political ideologies. “I know Jerusalem’s a holy site, but little kids coming home from school getting shot? Isn’t it supposed to be the city of peace?” says one teenager after finishing his prayer. “When most Americans say there’s never going to be peace there, how can we blame them?”
From Houston to Brooklyn, mosques are trying to help their young people deal with the crisis. Dahleh, for example, last month began offering biweekly meetings to vent potentially explosive feelings. “Frustrations were running high, and the young people needed to talk,” says Dahleh, 31. “We called a meeting, and in a matter of two hours, we had 50 guys here. Three days later, we had 100 people.” Now up to 50 teenagers congregate on Friday and Sunday nights to discuss their concerns.
In a room lined with Arabic and English encyclopedias, two dozen kids recently gathered in a circle, leaving their mobile phones and backpacks in a pile nearby. As Palestinians, they say, they feel embattled. “We have representatives of our own government stating that ‘Palestinians are lower than pond scum’,” says Eyad Hasan, 20, a sophomore at the University of Chicago, referring to a comment by Ric Keller, who at the time was running for Congress from Florida. But like most Americans, they don’t entirely understand what Faysal Shalab, 22, calls the “violent route” that some of his Muslim peers have chosen. “I think I speak for all of us when I say we are against that. We are nonviolent,” he says.
The discussions have inspired the teenagers to join protests against Israeli military strikes and organize boycotts against publications they believe are biased. They are even planning their own newspaper. “There’s a famous saying: ‘The ink of a scholar is just as holy as the blood of a martyr’,” says Azza Jammal, 16, hugging her head scarf to her face. “My goal is to learn about where I came from, then educate people as to who I am. God willing, I think we could change things.” Her cause may be half a world away–but the hope is typically American.
