Palestinian Education and Resistance with Dr. Riyam Kafri AbuLaban and Steve Tamari

Dr. Riyam Kafri AbuLaban, a former principal at Ramallah Friends School and a writer from Palestine, shares her insights on world-building amidst conflict and the complexities of raising children under occupation. 

Joining Dwight is Steve Tamari, a Palestinian-American Quaker and historian who offers reflections on the ongoing genocide in Palestine as part of a larger history of colonialism. Steve challenges listeners to understand the power of conscience and integrity in facing the brokenness of our world.

Key Highlights:

• Primary Guest:
  Dr. Riyam Kafri Abu Laban writes personal essays, poetry, short stories, and articles on Palestine, motherhood, and education. Riyam sees writing as "the tangible outcome of thinking" and believes the first sentence requires the most courage. She describes writing as an incredible gift, a way to bring ideas to life—whether technical, creative, or fictional.

Riyam lives in Ramallah, West Bank, Palestine. Follow her on Instagram and LinkedIn.

• Second Guest Offering:
  Steve Tamari is a Palestinian-American Quaker and historian. Steve reflects on the ongoing genocide in Palestine, framing it within the history of colonialism. He calls on Quakers and people of conscience to take action against systemic violence. He shared these remarks during his presentation, "Light Within and Light Without," at the 2024 Stephen G. Cary Memorial Lecture.

He poses a thought-provoking question: "How do you strive to close the gap between the light within and the world outside so that our lives may be genuinely integrated and made whole?"

Special Music

In this episode, you will hear the song Babylon Breeze by the Sada Trio. Ahmad Al Khatib, Pedram Shahlai, and Feras Sharestan are virtuoso musicians from three parts of the Middle East who now live in Sweden. Ahmad Al Khatib was born in 1974 in a Palestinian refugee camp in Irbid, Jordan. He started his musical journey at an early age. In the Sada Trio, t

The transcript for this episode is available on https://pendlehillseed.buzzsprout.com/
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The Seed is a project of Pendle Hill, a Quaker center open to all for Spirit-led learning, retreat, and community. We’re located in Wallingford, Pennsylvania, on the traditional territory of the Lenni-Lenape people.

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This project is made possible by the generous support of the Thomas H. & Mary Williams Shoemaker Fund.

Transcript

Riyam Kafri Abulaban: 0:04

Can I protect my children or not? And that's a question I struggle with all the time, and I know that my husband does as a parent, as a father, as well. It's very difficult. It's becoming increasingly difficult as well.

Dwight Dunston: 0:30

You're listening to The Seed: Conversations for Radical Hope, a Pendle Hill podcast where Quakers and other seekers come together to explore visions of the world growing through the cracks of our broken systems. I'm your host, Dwight Dunstan. For season five, we're focusing our attention on world building. It is easy to point out all that is wrong today, but what is the world we are organizing ourselves to see in the future? What creative visions of community motivate us to co create future systems filled with values of cooperation, reciprocity and love, and how can we begin to live in that new reality right now? On today's show, Riyam Kafri Abulaban, a graduate of the Ramallah Friends School who later became principal of the Upper School, is here with us today. Dr. Riyam crafts personal essays, poetry and short stories, along with insightful articles on topics like Palestine, motherhood and education. She is constantly exploring the question, "what does it mean to be human in today's world?" She believes writing is more than just words on a page. It's the tangible outcome of deep thinking. For her, the sentence takes the most courage, but it's a privilege to bring ideas to life. With a PhD in chemistry, Riyam began as a research scientist, but quickly found her true passion in working with people. She spent years in education, first as an assistant principal of chemistry and founding faculty member at Al Kutz Bard College in Palestine, and later as the Upper School Principal at the Ramallah Friends School. Quaker values have shaped her life and faith and are central to her work. Riyam lives in Ramallah in the West Bank Palestine, where she continues to inspire and shape the future of education Welcome to the show.

Riyam Kafri Abulaban: 2:34

Thank you.

Dwight Dunston: 2:35

Yes, and you know, here at the top of our time together, I have to shout out our connector, a Pendle Hill employee, Mark, who is the Night Keeper there, does so much there in terms of welcoming people to the community, making them feel at home, a sense of belonging, and who you worked with during the pandemic at Ramallah Friends.

Riyam Kafri Abulaban: 3:02

Mark is, is an amazing educator. He came to the Ramallah Friends School as the deputy principal right before, about two years before the pandemic. And we, I always say that the educator, you know, we survived. We're pandemic leaders, education, educational leaders, and we survived the pandemic at the school, and he helped lead the school at a very difficult and historic time for RFS at the time.

Dwight Dunston: 3:32

Wow. What's it feel like to be you today?

Riyam Kafri Abulaban: 3:36

On the outside looking in? I'm a very busy person, and I'm someone who's running from one place to the other all day, most of the days of the week, including the weekends, because I'm a working mother and a wife and I have responsibilities inside and outside the house. On the outside, it looks like this person is really having a difficult time balancing everything out, but on the inside, I would say that this is probably the most grounded I have been. I think it's part of growing up and getting older. And I've, I, when I was in my 20s and 30s, I would hear that your 40s really is when you really finally get to know yourself. And I think that that's very true. I also think that on a spiritual level, the last couple of years have been a huge spiritual journey for me that helped me look inside on who I am and what I want to do and what is important to me, despite the fact that my schedule, my calendar looks really crazy, I am at peace with who I am, finally, and I don't compromise who I am anymore. I don't apologize for being who I am. Feels good to be in my skin these days.

Dwight Dunston: 4:52

I heard in that response an awareness of the journey to get where you are. I want to do a little bit of time traveling, because I'm curious about what your life was like growing up.

Riyam Kafri Abulaban: 5:06

Well, I grew up in Ramallah. I was born in Amman Jordan. Like most Palestinian families post 1967 my father found himself without the ability to return home after the West Bank was annexed by the Israeli government at the time and was occupied. My father met my mother in Jordan, and they got married there, and I was born there. But then, through a lot of the of suffering, I should say, he was able to return home. And so I had the privilege of growing up here in Palestine, in Ramallah. I belong to an educated and very nuclear family. For most of our lives, it was just my mom, my dad and my siblings, my brother and my sister. I'm the eldest child, so I am the trailblazer, and I am the person that sets the standards. And so there were kind, there, a lot of responsibility came with with this role, and it took me a long time to understand why I am the way I am because, and then kind of figure out that that's the reason, because I'm the eldest child, and I'm the eldest and I'm a daughter, and so there are stereotypical roles of what I should look like and sound like. And then I had a father who believed that girls are like boys and can do whatever they want to do. And so he never separated us in that sense and so, and he made sure that we felt empowered. In fact, I think he empowered me and my sister far beyond my brother, and made sure that we were getting places. And I belong to a family of educators. My great grandmother was the first female principal in the Ottoman Empire in Tulkarm, in the city of Tulkaim in the West Bank. So, and she's half Lebanese, half Turkish. So she came here and got married here and had children here. So, and my grandmother was a teacher. My mother is a teacher, and my father was a professor.

Dwight Dunston: 7:16

So it runs in the family, is what you telling us.

Riyam Kafri Abulaban: 7:19

Yes. When I was in 10th grade, my friends were we were talking, you, were we were talking and one of my friends, his father, had an engineering company, a contracting company, who's going to be an engineer and work with his dad. And someone else was a businessman and belonged to a business. You know, his father was a businessman. They kind of all looked at me like, What do like, what are you going to do, open a teacher union in the future? And and then I became the principal. So, so they were like, oh, there it.

Dwight Dunston: 7:52

There you go. There you' go.

Riyam Kafri Abulaban: 7:54

To raise our kids now,

Dwight Dunston: 7:56

Right, right!

Riyam Kafri Abulaban: 7:57

But, but so I grew up in a home that really was open and allowed us to explore many questions on our own, but very much Palestinian, very much deeply rooted into the Palestinian context and the Palestinian plight and who saw education as a form of resistance to occupation. So, so this is the kind of family I belong to, on my mother's side is a long line of poets and writers, and on my father's side is a long line of scientists. So I was born of both worlds and and my dad always said, "Oh, you can do chemistry. A chemist can be a writer, but a writer could never be a chemist." So I ended up--and I was good in both. And so I ended up studying chemistry, and that's how I ended up in chemistry, and but I also started writing poetry at the age of seven, and I, and that's the thing that now looking back, that should have been, that should have been, really my sign, this is where you're being called. But ultimately, I think, because education is such a human thing, that's where I ended up. That's how I ended up being in education. Is because I can do the science, but I also wanted to really be with people, and, you know, connect with people and help people. And so that's how I ended up in education. So other than that, I'm, you know, I've witnessed the first uprising, the First Intifada. I was in second grade when it started. I, you know, I stood with this to the first Gulf War, the Oslo Accords, the Second Intifada, and, of course, all of it. So my life, my personal life, is really peppered by, by the Palestinian history and the Palestinian historical moments that are, you know, not really, have not really served Palestinians in the best way.

Dwight Dunston: 10:14

Yeah, there's, there's something poetic about your chemistry and your writing life that, yeah, I would love to just hear you share a little bit more of how you, because I imagine people hear that and think about two sides of the brain working or those are two people who would never talk to each other in the room, the chemist and the poet, right? And here you are in conversation in one body with these two parts of who you are and just how you you've come to understand those parts of you and and perhaps how, how it helps you to understand on a larger context, just yeah, your life and the life the life of loved ones, in your, in your in your vicinity there.

Riyam Kafri Abulaban: 11:08

Well, I'm not the, I think that the chemist and the artist combination are, there are many examples of them in the real world. Rachmaninoff was a chemist, and he was a musician. And I think there's something about chemistry that really lends itself to art, because it is a very creative process. I studied organic chemistry, and I studied design of anti HIV drugs. So I had to, you know, I worked, it was almost like you're a graphic designer, except for molecules and enzymes. I did the creative part of chemistry. I didn't do the hard work analytical part. I couldn't do that. Actually, that kind of drove me insane. So from the get go, I think that the part of chemistry that really talked to me was the part that was creative, the synthetic part, the part that required imagination and required you to really think outside the box. Um, in my real life, I love being the chemist, because I can, I can approach almost everything from a scientific perspective. And I can give you a scientific fact about almost anything you talk to me about, and, you know, and that kind of gets on my sister's nerves, and it kind of but, but it was the best thing when you're a principal, a principal going through a pandemic, because I completely understood viruses, because that was, you know, this

is what I spent my PhD studying: 12:43

viruses. So, so they are and there's, there are times where they are struggling, you know, these two personas are struggling against each other. And I took, it took me a long time to reconcile that I am many things. I'm not just one thing. I think that we spend most of our lives being told that you have to be one thing. You have to be good at one thing and do really great things with it and save the world. But the truth is, and I think this is, this has become, you know, this has become more popular in the last couple of years, is that we are, we can't be one thing. And creative, creativity is something that we should be, even if our finance, you know, officers at a bank, there should be, there's a creative part of us, because that's so human. That's, you know, the one thing that we were given that's different than all other species on Earth is the ability to create, to create art, to create, to write, to think and and, you know, and innovate. So, so I think that creativity is definitely there for all of us. And it took me a while to say,"Well, I am a chemist and an educator, but I also I'm a writer, and I want to write, and I work." My colleague is an engineer, and he's a three time published novelist, and his novels are out of this world, and when you read them, you're like, "Is this really the same person that I see every day at work?" But he's also had to, you know? So this is a conversation that is ongoing for me, that if you're creative and you are a scientist, and then you can be an artist as well. So it's, yeah, it's a struggle, but it's something it's a conversation that's ongoing for me.

Dwight Dunston: 14:47

One of the things you mentioned in your story, just about how you grew up, and I mentioned a little bit about the place where you are in Palestine, being part of the shaping of who you are and in your family story. And you mentioned being alive during the First Intifada, and you know, thinking about about how that shaped you, and I'm thinking about your your intention, and how serious you take your responsibility of raising your children in the midst of conflict, in the midst of violence. And young people are really one of the things I've really valued about school working in schools is the ways that young people, more or less refuse to be lied to, right? And they're trying to make sense of things and and they're very honest about what they see and what they feel. And I'm just curious how, how it's been for you in communicating and talking to and making space for feelings or thoughts that your children have in this time in Palestine. It's, it's here, in the US, you know, we're responding to things there and in a specific kind of way, but there's so much distance from from the violence, from the genocide, from what we, what we see and what we feel or hear about rather. And I'm just curious of what it's, what it's been like for you, the conversations you've been having, and if they connect in any way to how you remember your own, the adults in your own upbringing, speaking on things that are happening when you were, when you were younger?

Riyam Kafri Abulaban: 16:39

First of all, I didn't realize at the beginning of the war last year, I didn't really consider how much they hear us talk. You know how when my husband and I speak, I have colleagues in Gaza and and this was the first time that I had colleagues in Gaza. And have, we have a--our organization has an office. There we have beneficiaries. There we have facilitators and teachers that we work with and suddenly they were under fire. And October 13 was particularly a difficult day because almost all of my colleagues moved from the north to the south. And they were, they became suddenly, they became refugees, and they were in shelters. And for a long time, we didn't know how to get in touch with them. And it was, you know, it was very, very difficult. And I think that my approach to talking to, you know, I answer questions when they come up. I don't really necessarily try to bring things up to them, because I think it's around them, and they're much more aware than than we think. And that's I think what I wanted to say is that I was really surprised at how much they were listening to what I'm saying, and that they actually specifically asked about the names of the people that I kept repeating. You know, so-and-so is still in the north, and then, like, a couple of days later I say, did you talk to him as he okay? Is his family okay? And I was, I was really surprised how impressionable that was. I think that my husband and I have taken a very open conversation, you know, if they ask, we answer, and we talk about what we saw in our childhood. But we are also, I'm not going to lie to you, we're very cautious. We try to shelter them as much as we can, if we can keep them protected for one more, two more years or three more years before they have to really deal with the absolutely utter, you know, violent reality that awaits them, then I want to do that. I want to preserve that for them, because I'm worried my children could be stopped anywhere in the situation as it is right now, in the West Bank and where we are, and even in Gaza is really there's no innocent civilian. We're all treated like we're moving targets. As a mother, I am so worried that my children would be subjected to such unjustified violence. When I was in the US, I always spoke about how Palestinian mothers are no different than mothers of black children or brown children in the US, where they feel like their child could get shot anytime. This is exactly what it feels like. So for for our listeners who are, who really can't imagine, it's exactly that. It's you feeling like your child could go to school and not return. This is what really ails almost every single Palestinian mother that lives in the West Bank in Gaza. It's a whole other story, because now you go to bed hoping that if you're gonna die, that the whole family goes with you, so that you don't leave behind a child. That's literally what's happening. But. Sso I try to shelter them. I want to protect them, but I also answer questions, because I want them to be part of the society and part of this community and and, you know, in this day and age, there's really no disconnection from the world. They have access to to media and social media, and they hear their peers, and so they're acutely aware of what's happening around them.

Dwight Dunston: 20:27

Yeah, I am breathing into that reflection as I think about the training that my parents would give me in leaving the house like you know, we talk a lot about in the US and black families, I can remember a number of my peers and friends having similar conversations about how to behave when you leave the house. That was around, that I didn't understand, because at the time, all of the realities are all the ways that, yeah, those those conversations, our directives were infused with anxiety and fear, but also, yeah, rooted in reality and protective of,"Here's how you, here's how you move in space so that you don't experience violence against your body" and, yeah, it was just something really was opened up for me as you reflected on. You know, this is a conversation that you're aware of and that you also have had, had to think about and have as you, as you move through space, and as you, once again, are in this role and have this responsibility and intention to raise your children that being a part of it. You know, this conversation around keeping safe as a part of a part of the the journey as well.

Riyam Kafri Abulaban: 22:15

But you know, what's heartbreaking is that I no longer trust that what I say would really protect them, because the situation has gotten worse, and I just, I'm not sure that anything I do will protect them at some point. And that's really, that's something that you know to go to bed with is really heavy for a mother to carry, it's a huge burden. So, yeah, I am concerned. The stories that we're hearing coming out of of Gaza, coming out of detention centers and prisons and for Palestinians, are just, you know, terrifying at the, to say the least. So you know, and the violence, just the overall violence, you're you as a mom. Yes, I go to bed with the burden of, "Can I protect my children or not?" And that's a question I struggle with all the time, and I know that my husband does as a parent, as a father as well. So, yeah, it's, it's very difficult. It's becoming increasingly difficult as well.

Dwight Dunston: 23:31

How has, from your vantage point, the the role of community supported you in these times, in these restless nights? I know that, yeah, my own life and experience, when I'm wrestling with things, there's a way where having someone with a shared experience, or having someone who I know is a witness, or has agreed to accompany me around a challenge, or, yeah, my restlessness, that that has helped, to help, help me at least, carry the load. It doesn't mean the load is not still there, but there's a way that the load gets shared and carried across many hands, and I'm curious just the way that community has shown up for you, or maybe you stepping in and being community for other folks has, yeah, been maybe a solved, been supportive, yeah, maybe infused possibility into your life.

Riyam Kafri Abulaban: 24:47

Um, so Palestine is also the Palestinian society is also a family society. So extended family plays a major role in our lives. Um, my children have 10 uncles and four aunts, yeah, four aunts and so they have a huge network of cousins that support them and support us, and are there to help us, and kind of really be there. They also have on my mom's side, on my side, my mother and my sister are here, and my brother is living in Europe. So our close knit community, in that sense, has been incredibly supportive, and has always been. You know, my mom is, my mother actually during summer break, will come and stay with them, so that they're not home alone, even though they're almost 13. So, and it's normal here. You know, at 12 you can leave kids for for a while, and they're up late and they're sleeping and so you know you're for most of the day that they're not really aware of what's going on. So she's actually made up an effort to come at least three days a week while they were on summer break, so that they're not home alone, so that if anything happens, there's some, there's an adult in the building. But I also have neighbors, you know, and I have friends who are mothers as well, who we've come close together. Community is really what what made Palestinians survive all these years. And we're very close knit, and it's a very small country, and if you come here and you walk down the street, you're gonna meet at least almost, you know, if you meet one person and then you walk down the street further, you'll probably meet their cousin or their grandparent or friend of theirs who's going to school with them. This is how close knit we are, and so, and so and this is not just in our city. This actually extends. It's like one big, small, one big community that's really close knit together. That's how it feels, because we marry from each otherand family continues to be the one unit that brings everybody together. So it's, yeah. So I think friends, family, my family, my girlfriends, who are our moms of the staffs of children of similar age. This has always been in conversation about what's next and what to do, and then fellow educators that I've been in touch with on a professional level to talk about, "What can we do to change the future of this country through education as well?" So this has been a source of support for me as well.

Dwight Dunston: 27:46

Yeah, thank you for that. Yeah, I just hear a constellation of folks that show up and show up for one another, and the practice of healthy co-dreaming, co-building, really interdependent is a part of the culture, Palestinian culture. This season where exploring the theme of world building, I'm curious of the thoughts and reflections that come to mind when you hear the words world building, what that means to you. What chord does it strike?

Riyam Kafri Abulaban: 28:17

You know, I was in a workshop, a full day workshop the other day, talking about how we would build, how we would build Palestine through a better educational system post genocide. You know, we dare to dream of a day when this is all going to end. And I have to admit that it's hard to think about world building, and for a very long time, since the start of the war, and you know, and since, and I don't want, you know, I want to be careful to say that suffering in Palestine didn't start on October 7. And so we just need to make sure that this is clear, that this has been an ongoing situation for over 70 years. And so displacement, dispossession, it's, it's always been there. So it's important to say that. But the last, I think, eight months have been particularly, you know, pronounced and and there's really a genocide, an active genocide happening. So when all of this is happening, to think about building, to think about even on a professional level, to think about, oh, we need to educate the kids in Gaza. And at first, my first three months, I was like, "Oh, forget it. I can't even imagine having a conversation about this, because people are really struggling to find water, clean water and medicine." And you know, you want me to pick up the phone and call one of my colleagues and say, "Hey, let's, let's get kids together in a tent and get them educated," because really, that's the only way we're going to build a country. So it was really hard, but then the inspiration really came from Gaza itself. When I dared to start this conversation with my colleagues, you know, because, you know the, you know, the scene, you know, my colleague was my senior, kind of said, 'We have to, we have to do this. You know, otherwise we're just going to sit here and watch this happening and keep saying, this is really, this is the situation where there's nothing we can do." And so when I asked my colleagues in Gaza to go down and just ask parents, children,"Would you go?" You know, if we put together a tent like two meters away from here, and said,"Come learn math, would you come?" And the answer was emphatically "Yes, we would now and do it yesterday, not tomorrow, not next week. We need it." And that's when I realized that building a country and building the world is something that has to continue and has to happen at the ugliest moments, even at the darkest moments in history, there will always be people who will build because they are thinking of the next day and this world that we borrowed from our children. Because I believe that you borrow your country and your world from the children. It needs to be given back to them when it's time for them to borrow it from their own children, a little more compassionate with a little more justice. So conversations about this and just kind of realizing that a one-sided story could never be the truth. And you know the truth. You know. Even think about it in school, when you have five kids who are fighting, and they come into your office, and each one of them has a different story, and the truth kind of sits somewhere in the middle, and you can't, and when you listen to all of these perspectives, you find a connection, a point of connection that you can from there start resolving, and from there start healing. And so if the world continues to have conversations that are monochromatic in many ways, and you know, and I really say this with intention, because they are very white, privileged conversations that are happening. If the world continues to have that, then we're not going to find the truth. There's, this is, you know, you're not listening to other perspectives. So that's my view, I think, on, I don't know if that answers your question, but that's my view, really, on, on world building.

Dwight Dunston: 32:38

Oh, it absolutely does absolutely and just holding the brilliance and realness and honesty and both like the hopefulness and possibility, but also the uncertainty of it all. And I'm so glad that you brought the children back in you know. We've been talking about young people this whole time. I really, really will be thinking about that, that idea of borrowing this, this land, the life, you know, from the young people, and really giving that back to them. And it's so obvious to me through your, what you've committed your life to, how the ways you followed your vocation and calling, and also from the ways you speak about your own nurturing and raising of your your children, that you're you're really living out that, that idea of borrowing this land and giving it back with more compassion, with more justice. So I just want to say thank you for your time here on the podcast today, and thank you for the way that you live, and letting your life speak. It's been such a such an honor to share this space with you.

Riyam Kafri Abulaban: 34:05

Thank you. Thank you so much for for this conversation. It's been amazing. Thank you.

Dwight Dunston: 34:13

I'm so grateful for such a rich conversation with Dr. Riyam Kafri, and I'm deeply moved by her insights of the power of education and imagination and shaping a better future. If you want to hear more from Riyam, she's also featured in a recent mini episode of the seed where she talks about food in Palestine, reflecting on both the pain and the power of refugees sharing food from the places they've been displaced. Now, as we continue exploring this season's theme of world building and imagination, we shift our focus to the intersections of history, identity and conscience. Our second guest, Steve Tamari is a Palestinian-American Quaker whose life and work are deeply influenced by these themes. Steve gave the 2024 Stephen G Carey Memorial Lecture titled

Light Within and Light Without: 35:39

The Personal and Political in the formation of a Palestinian-American Quaker Identity. He is emeritus professor of Middle East and Islamic History at Southern Illinois University Edwardsville, and his personal journey is deeply rooted in his Quaker faith, shaped by Scattergood Friends School and the legacy of his parents who met at Pendle Hill. Steve challenges us to understand the ongoing genocide in Palestine as part of a much longer and complex history of colonialism. He calls on Quakers and people of conscience to not only recognize this, but to take action to hold governments and corporations accountable for the violence embedded in the very fabric of our world.

Steve Tamari: 36:34

This is a time for Quakers and people of conscience to understand that the genocide is rooted in a long history of colonialism and colonial racism. The Zionist state is a relative latecomer to this historical trajectory, but the consequences of its founding, its history and its war on Palestine is the logical conclusion of the premises of its creation. I'm going to say that again. The Zionist state is a relative latecomer to this historical trajectory, but the consequences of its founding, its history and its war on Palestinians is the logical conclusion of the premises of its creation. Genocide, in fact, is a logical conclusion to the creation of the Zionist state. Unequivocal US support is likewise ruined in a parallel history, the states, the corporations and the institutions that facilitate this violence are embedded in the very fabric of the broken world in which we live. Change depends first on a radical understanding of how we got here. That's one lesson from Light Without. Another is that a better world is possible. This requires redoubling efforts to hold governments, corporations and institutions accountable. Citizens, pushing city councils to pass ceasefire resolutions, dock workers refusing to unload Israeli ships, students agitating for universities to divest from companies that profit from war, and crowds descending on Washington DC or demonstrating in town squares, are just a few examples of how we can move from understanding to action. What usually makes us move, however, is that tinge of conscience, see, that Light Within which inspired the kind of integrity my mother exemplified, which came in part from the integration of faith and works that drew her to these words, which I'm repeating now by Mildred Young, "It is in striving to close that gap between our faith and our works, between what we know by religious insight and what we do in our secular lives, that I see the possibility of at once deepening our insight and gathering our scattered forces, so might our lives be integrated, made whole, made whole in the true ground of our being." Mary Ellen underlined that passage twice, once in red, once in blue. I end with that quote, which is a call to keep our integrity as we move through a broken world, a world that seems to be more broken than ever. Here's a query I'll close with that. It's probably something we've repeated and asked ourselves again and again, but it deserves repetition in a time like this. How do you strive to close that gap between the Light Within and the world outside, so our lives may be genuinely integrated and made whole?

Dwight Dunston: 39:53

Steve reminds us that real change begins with a radical understanding of how we got here. He challenges each of us with a query, "In a time like this, how do you strive to close the gap between the light within and the world outside, so our lives may be genuinely integrated and made whole?" "In a time like this, how do you strive to close that gap between the light within and the world outside, so our lives may be genuinely integrated and made whole." Friend, if you're having a similar experience as I am, you might be feeling inspired, heartbroken, angry, confused, there may be some hints of hopelessness, despair. There may be new or renewed inspiration and vitality. However, this conversation and the reflections from Steve's lecture are sitting with you, I first want to invite you to take a breath, in and out, and give to yourself before looking outside of yourself, some grace, some care and some softness around however you are feeling in this moment. You might be wondering "What next?" In this entire season, as we invite guests to speak about world building and what that means to them, some of them will offer up a blueprint and next step for us to take, or at least to try, while others will invite us to sit with what's alive in us after their sharings, reflections, poetry readings, stories and so in this moment, I want to invite you to discern of a next step for you that feels right sized for where you are right now. Don't overextend. Don't sidestep the feelings that might be alive for you right now. Perhaps you might settle into some worship and stillness, and I invite you into the next full bodied "Yes" that is becoming apparent for you. And if it will be helpful to be in conversation with me or others, feel free to email podcast@PendleHill.org with your next step questions, about your next step, or any other leadings becoming more clear for you in this time. Thank you for showing up and spending some time with me today. You can hear Steve's full lecture, along with other excellent talks on the Pendle Hill youtube channel at youtube.com/@PendleHillUSA, and don't forget to follow Dr. Riyam Kafri on Instagram to stay connected with her incredible work. The Seed is a project of Pendle Hill, a Quaker center open to all for Spirit led learning, retreat, and community. We're located in Wallingford, Pennsylvania, on the traditional territory of the Lenni Lenape people. Many of our guests are teachers, leaders and speakers at Pendle Hill. We host retreats, workshops and lectures all year round. For a full list of these upcoming education opportunities, visit PendleHill.org/learn. This episode was produced and edited by Peterson Toscano. Peterson is also one of the hosts of the Quakers Today podcast. Other production assistance came from Lucas Meyer Lee, a Quaker Voluntary Service Fellow. Our theme music is the I Rise project by Reverend Rdetta Morgan and Bennett Kuhn, produced by Astronautical Records. You also heard some music that I produced. I'm glad I could share a little of that part of me with you. Other music comes from epidemicsound.com This includes the beautiful track at the end of my talk with Riyam by the Sada Trio. This is a group of musicians with roots in three parts of the Middle East. One of the members, Ahmad Al Khatib, was born in 1974 in a Palestinian refugee camp in Jordan. Learn more about Ahmad and the Sada Trio at Ahmadalcatidmusic.com. The Seed podcast is made possible by the generous support of the Thomas H and Mary Williams Shoemaker Fund. Thank you. You can stay in touch by following us @PendleHillSeed on all social media platforms, or by emailing us at Podcast@PendleHill.org, that's podcast@PendleHill.org. Thanks to Pendle Hills daily worship time, you and I can worship together once a month. I attend this virtual Quaker meeting on the last Friday of the month. The worship begins at 8:30am Eastern Time and last about 40 minutes. To access this virtual worship space via zoom, visit PendleHill.org/explore/worship. If you're finding these conversations meaningful, consider supporting our work financially. Simply head over to PendleHill.org/donate. You can also support us by letting people in your life know about our podcast. We want to connect with other folks like you, so please subscribe, rate and review us on your Podcast platform. These seeds could not be planted without you.

Riyam Kafri Abulaban: 46:29

You know, I'm a mother, so my headphones are usually hijacked by the teenagers. Well, I think they were not properly charged.