What does the news want?

If you truly think it’s good enough, you can watch the news. The news will tell you what to think. Then you can open Facebook on your phone and post about us. We’re thousands of miles away, but that’s okay, because you just watched the news, and that’s how you know what’s happening here.

Last week, the news told you, of course, about the sudden war Israel started with Iran. Yes indeed, Israel started it. The Israelis flew their planes over to Iranian land and began bombing the hell out of their nuclear missiles programme. A beautiful, talented young Iranian poet lost her life. Parnia Abbasi. May her memory be a blessing.  That was in the news too.

So, Israel has started yet another war. Only this time, this war could save the world.

I don’t think I’ve read that in the news.

What I also haven’t read is how, on the very same day, over three hundred carefully selected Jewish Israelis and Arab Israelis and Palestinian peace activists were flown to Paris, thanks to the generous invitation of President Macron. This was for the Civil Society Peace conference hosted by ALLMEP. They are working on the day after. Because there will be a day after.

And they represent the majority of Israelis and Palestinians, who want peace, even though they might not be sure how to get it or whether it is indeed possible.

Here’s another example. The news told you Jews were posting videos of celebration when Iranian missiles fell on Arabs’ houses and killed four women in the same family: Manar Abu Al Heija Katib, her daughters Shada and Hala and her sister-in-law Manar Diab Katib. May their memories be a blessing. It also destroyed others’ homes.

Videos of celebration? How disgusting! How horrendous!

True. Only the news didn’t tell you about the hundreds, possibly thousands of Israelis, Jewish, Christian and Muslim who made the dangerous trip across Israel, in spite of the continuing missiles, to pay their respects to the families and friends and neighbours of the dead, and to offer help to those who have been left homeless.

Is it a real leap of faith to wonder, just to wonder for a moment, if, on 7^th October, when the news showed us the Gazans celebrating the death of Jews in the streets, there were in fact many Gazans in their houses quietly shocked, quietly horrified, quietly suffering due to their fellow man’s suffering?

Why quietly, you ask? Why weren’t they on the streets?

We all know what Hamas do to people who protest loudly. (Uday Rabie, may his memory be a blessing.) We also know there are Palestinian peace activists, in spite of everything they are up against.

Of course, peace conferences from the people to the people, and good people doing what is right, don’t interest the news.

The news wants crime, cruelty and corruption.

The news wants despair without interruption.

The news wants death, darkness and destruction.

Fine. Fine if that’s what the news wants. It doesn’t mean you have to believe it.

So many people from abroad have written or called me to ask if we’re okay. And then in the same breath they make known their assumption that all of Israel are siding with the government. That the people ARE the government.

If there’s one thing this war with Iran has done, temporarily, it’s stopped all the hundreds of anti-war, anti-government, and anti-occupation demonstrations all over the country. But that’s okay. The news never covered those much anyway, did it?

You want to know what’s going on here? Don’t watch the BBC. Don’t read The Telegraph or The Guardian.

You’re in the right place. Yes, you. At least the people who live here are writing here, telling you what’s happening here.

Let me finish with a little snapshot into our lives. No, the majority of us are not suffering in this war. The majority of us have public shelters and private shelters to take cover in, even to sleep in. We are given sufficient warning by the Home Command – through a loud sound on the phone – that missiles are approaching. We have time to get to a shelter. Then there’s the siren on the phone and in the area, giving us around a minute to get into a protected space before the bombardment occurs.

Yes, it’s terrible that tragedies and deaths are occurring because of direct hits or places without shelters.

For most of us, it isn’t pleasant. It is stressful. It can cause anxiety. But most of us are not suffering. The hostages are suffering. Not us.

As a teacher? We lost our final week of high school. We lost the ceremonies and parties and giving out certificates and assessments and teacher days away. We may well have lost a few of the Bagruyot, the exams taken by teenagers here to help them with their future. My year-group lost two nights of a show they’d been working on all year.

Our close friends even had to cancel a wedding where two hundred and fifty people were invited, some having flown in from abroad, and have it in their back yard instead.

All our lives are being disrupted. You can see that on the news. But what you cannot see, what you do not see, is the resilience of the people in this land.

We get up each morning, after a disrupted night’s sleep, we look after the children, the animals, and each other. We get through each day knowing this will pass, trying to be present in our lives, with a full fridge (Eli Sharabi, yes, it is everything), the beautiful sunshine, the flowers, the laughter of children. We work from home. Have meetings. Reach out to see who needs help. Go for walks. Food shop. Window shop. Write. Draw. Play games. Cook. Bake. Watch films. The list is endless. And endlessly interrupted with sirens. But what we do not do is sit around and wait.

And we do not lose hope.

Hope for the future, and our resilience. That’s what should be making the news.