A theatre near me is putting on a production of the play, “My Name is Rachel Corrie.” As elsewhere, the local production has drawn vigorous hassle from those who dedicate themselves to trying to punish any criticism in the U.S. of human rights abuses committed by the Israeli government.

Tonight there is a “talkback” after the performance. Some people are bringing handouts, and I was asked to write something.

In 1996, I was a volunteer for Christian Peacemaker Teams in the Palestinian city of Hebron. Shortly after I arrived in Hebron, 2 of us were arrested and threatened with deportation when members of the CPT sat on the roof of a Palestinian home that the Israeli army intended to demolish. In addition, friends of mine teach at Evergreen and had Rachel as a student. So when I was asked to write something, of course I said yes. Rachel’s story is close to my heart, not just as a symbol of human rights abuses carried out by the Israeli government with the acquiescence of the United States, but as a symbol of Americans putting themselves on the line for international solidarity. John Reed is buried in Red Square; veterans of the Abraham Lincoln Brigade have been granted Spanish citizenship. When the Palestinians regain sovereignty over Al-Aqsa, I hope they do something there for Rachel.

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Donna Schumann | Gaza Delegation

Today we celebrate Eide, the day after the last day of Ramadan. I celebrate because I no longer need to duck under tables and behind counters to drink water “discreetly” between sunrise and sunset, It is the equivalent of Christmas Day for most Americans, if most Americans were more reverent and family oriented. People dress in their finest clothes and visit each other, bringing small symbolic gifts such as sweets to share.

People walk everywhere – small groups of very young girls wander down the streets together, no doubt watched from a short distance by a caring family member. And small “gangs” of 5-7 year-old boys run around playing the equivalent of cops and robbers with their friends. It reminds me of the American culture my father described from his childhood, and close to my childhood in Ohio in the late 50’s and early 60’s. Parents felt safer letting their children play, knowing that their neighbors and family would watch out for them. And the kids walk up to our group of strange foreigners, a little shy. When I ask if I can take their picture, they usually say yes. And then more and more kids want their picture taken, with a few, usually boys, really hamming it up. They smile or laugh at my clumsy attempts at Arabic, but are very polite and shake my hand. And there are usually smiling adults watching and smiling at us.

Serena Becker, Delegation Coordinator

The first Rachel Corrie Foundation Delegation has successfully entered the Gaza Strip, Sept 16, around 6pm (local time). It was a long, complicated ordeal consisting of Egyptian officials at the Rafah Crossing intentionally misdirecting us and forcing us to navigating red tape as they attempted to deny us entry.

Thank you to all of those who called and emailed the Egyptian Embassy on our behalf.

After all day yesterday (Sept 15) and nearly all day today (Sept 16) we have been working to get in to Gaza. In total it took us around 36 hours to get in. All this while the crossing is actually open. This crossing is “normally” only open once month for a few day. With the difficulty we
had crossing into Gaza, from our position of privilege as westerners and while the crossing was actually opening it is unimaginable the difficulties Palestinians face getting in or out of Gaza.

Ma’an News Agency

“The crossing only took about 36 hours,” Craig Corrie, father of slain American activist Rachel Corrie said on entering the Gazan city of Rafah Wednesday afternoon, “that’s only one hour per mile.”

The delegation’s efforts to reach the Strip where they planned to attend the Rachel Corrie Memorial Ramadan Soccer Tournament were stymied Tuesday as Mr and Mrs Corrie, who had contacted both Egyptian and American officials in the Middle East and Washington, were told they would not be allowed into the area where their daughter was run down by an armored Israeli bulldozer in 2003.

Craig Corrie’s reaction, after “going through the layers of Egyptian bureaucracy” and gaining access to the Strip, was to note that what the delegation “managed to do with a bit of hassle should be a right for all those stranded in Gaza.” Managing to get into Gaza as a foreign delegation “is not much of a struggle when you look at what the people around you are going through,” he added.

Star Tribune

A detailed and wise performance helps explain the activist’s psychic underpinnings.

Actor Emily Gunyou Halaas in My Name is Rachel Corrie.

Media shorthand feeds the impulse to consider activists on political terms — regardless of what those politics are.

“My Name is Rachel Corrie” allows actor Emily Gunyou Halaas to reveal the deeper, universal nature of an activist. Politics is but an implement selected by a person so driven by passion, sensitivity and awareness that activism becomes its own destiny.

“I don’t believe in fate,” Corrie says early in the 100-minute play, which was crafted by Alan Rickman and Katharine Viner from her writings. But whether Corrie believes in fate or not is immaterial. Her actions and reactions — not her ideology — determined her path in life.

Corrie, who grew up in Washington State, was 12 when her consciousness drove her to speak out against hunger. Perhaps jealous of her siblings’ conventional success, she followed her instincts into social-justice causes. At 23, she traveled to live with Palestinian refugees in the Gaza, as part of the International Solidarity Movement. Her efforts might have been remained those of a single person, but in 2003 Corrie was killed when she knelt in front of a bulldozer driven by an Israeli soldier. As happens with martyrs who leave a written legacy, her efforts assumed mythic proportions.