Writings by Kathy Kelly

February 24, 2008

We Will Not Be Silent (photo: Suzanne Sheridan): Chris Spicer, a Jesuit, and Abby Strozinski, student at Loyola University Chicago, in Representative Emanuel’s office.65 years ago, on February 22, 1943, the Nazi regime executed three German students because of their active resistance to the regime’s murderous global and domestic agenda. Known as the White Rose, nearly all participants were students. 29 members were indicted for promoting opposition to the holocaust and to World War II.

Here in Chicago, several dozen people gathered in early February to watch “Sophie Scholl: The Final Days,” a film about the White Rose movement which focuses upon the experience of Sophie, and to think about our responsibilities, today, to confront Congressional Representatives and Senators in the U.S. who fund and prolong the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. Seventeen people agreed to commemorate the 29 indicted White Rose activists by delivering white roses to people working in Representative Rahm Emanuel’s office. Rahm Emanuel is Chair of the House Democratic Caucus and consistently votes to fund the war in Iraq. We hoped that staffers would receive the roses and also engage with us in a conversation about Representative Emanuel’s position regarding the war in Iraq.Commemorating the White Rose (photo: Laurie Hasbrook): We remember the 29 individuals indicted by the German government for participation in the White Rose resistance effort during World War II. Five were executed and most of the rest sentenced to lengthen prison terms.

December 6, 2007

Traveling with as light a load as possible is something I long for during long stretches away from home. I routinely discard paperwork and periodicals, “recycle” gifts and give away clothing. But, here in Amman, Jordan, when a ten year-old Iraqi girl named Nauras gave me a camera, I quickly put it in the envelope where I keep my money, confident it would survive my next purge.

The camera consists of two pieces of drawing paper, cleverly folded so that the parts slide past each other, opening up a tiny square “shutter.” I think of Nauras peering through the shutter and pretending to snap my picture, then gleefully posing for imaginary snapshots as I take my turn as photographer. I remember her fetching her only other toy, a bedraggled baby doll with long white hair and eyes of aqua blue, and placing it in my arms.

Amman, Jordan
August 22, 2007

Here in Amman, Jordan, a British teenager, Sonia, age 12, recently spent four days interviewing and befriending Iraqi youngsters close to her in age. She wanted to learn, firsthand, about the experiences of Iraqi youngsters who have fled war and violence in their home country.

A versatile and talented child, Sonia loves to play the trumpet and perform classical Indian dances, the latter being somewhat unusual for a Muslim girl. When she was eight years old, shortly before the U.S. and the U.K. attacked Iraq, she wrote a poem urging respect for the rights of Iraqi children whose lives and hopes would be destroyed by war. The poem reached many people, intensifying efforts of peace activists to stop the war before it started. Sonia continued her efforts on behalf of Iraqi children, even founding an organization called “Children Against War.”

Amman, Jordan
August 13, 2007

“GET A JOB!” These three words are very familiar to activists bearing signs calling for an end to war, whether standing on street corners, walking along highways, holding vigils, or nonviolently occupying the offices of elected representatives. Listen to the activists, and you’ll often hear, “We’re doing our job. We’re trying.”

I’m convinced that our work must always have one foot placed in nonviolent resistance to the forces that design and wage wars, with the other foot standing among people who bear the physical and mental affliction caused by these forces. Today, I’m thinking especially about two young women who found themselves in nightmare circumstances because, in their view, they simply wanted to have a job.

Amman, Jordan
Aug 6, 2007

At a small, informal school in the basement of a church in Amman, many strings of colorful paper cranes bedeck walls and windows. The school serves children whose families have fled Iraq. Older children who come to the school understand the significance of the crane birds. Claudia Lefko, of Northampton, MA, who helped initiate the school, told them Sadako’s story. The Japanese child survived the bombing of Hiroshima, but suffered from radiation sickness. In a Japanese hospital, she wanted to fold 1,000 origami crane birds, believing that by doing so she could be granted a special wish: hers was that no other child would ever suffer as she did. Sadako died before completing the task she’d set for herself, but Japanese children then folded many thousands more cranes, and the story has been told for decades in innumerable places, making the delicate paper cranes a symbol for peace throughout the world.

Today, August 6, children who’ve recently joined the informal school in Amman will learn Sadako’s story.

Amman, Jordan
August 3, 2007

Governments and Non-Governmental Organizations may seem to be transfixed, almost mesmerized, by the mounting humanitarian catastrophe in Iraq. But, since 2003, an admirable group of NGOs, including Oxfam, has steadily tried to address humanitarian needs through collecting and organizing data, establishing priorities, responding to emergencies, and working out ways to deliver food, medicine, and clean water to some of the neediest areas in Iraq.

Amman, Jordan
July 30, 2007

Last weekend was an important one, regarding education, here in Jordan. Jordanian high school students learned the results of exams qualifying them (or not) for University studies. Television news showed students - among the 52% who passed - dancing for joy. And, King Abdullah announced that Jordan will open its public schools to Iraqi students under fifteen years of age. Along with this news came a UNHCR request for $129 million in funding to help provide schooling for Iraqi children living in neighboring countries, especially Jordan and Syria.

I hope this will be good news for several of Abu Mahmoud’s children who have already missed three years of school.

July 24, 2007

Last week, Umm Daoud, (her name means “Mother of Daoud”), met me and three friends at a bridge that crosses into her neighborhood. It was just after sundown; the streets were darkening as she guided us toward the narrow path which leads to her home. She and her five children live in a humble two room apartment in a crowded “low-rent” area of Amman.

As guests, my friends and I sat on a makeshift piece of furniture, an old door placed atop two crates and covered by a thin mat. She and her children sat on the floor. Apart from a television and a small table, the living room had no other furniture. The television remained “on” while Samil, her youngest son, seemed completely absorbed in a “Tom and Jerry” cartoon.

May 31, 2007

Earlier this week, the American Friends Service Committee asked me to speak about finding hope in hard times as part of an interfaith service to conclude their “Eyes Wide Open” display in Chicago’s Grant Park. The display arranged 3,438 soldiers’ boots to commemorate U.S. military people killed in Iraq, along with life sized pictures of Iraqi civilians and a collection of numerous civilian shoes to remember hundreds of thousands of Iraqis who have been killed in Iraq since 2003. I asked the audience to join me in recalling experiences I had while imprisoned at the Pekin Federal prison for “crossing the line” at Fort Benning, Georgia.