I Planted a Tree on Stolen Land

 

I Planted a Tree on Stolen Land

 

I planted a tree on stolen land

I wish I had known but I didn't

A strange contradiction

 

That such a thing of beauty contributed to

The dispossession of a whole people

And perpetuated the lie that this was a

Land without people for a people without land

Like the Terra Nullius doctrine that justified

Genocide against Indigenous people

On Turtle Island.

 

A lie that has for almost a century justified

Genocide against Palestinian people

And erased the Nakba and attempted mass dispossession of Palestinian lands

Whose brutal “end game” appears to be

Playing out in Gaza

 

My Yiddish heritage sits heavily on my conscience

My ancestors uprooted from their homes in Eastern European pogroms

My grandparents and mother’s generation living in a land, Canada,

Where "No Dogs or Jews” signs abounded

Where their Yiddish summer camp was

Spied upon by the RCMP

And my mother had to change her name to get work.

And where I was beaten after school

As a dirty you-know-what

Invited to birthday parties

Only to be turned away at the door

As the stupid “rhymes with bike"

Subjected to a lynch mob when anti-Semitic

Neighbours accused me of killing a cat for its blood

And so they came for mine

I was nine.

 

For decades we were sold a pack of lies

Unthinkingly participated in feel-good ethnic cleansing

As we lost loved ones

Trees were planted by the Jewish National Fund (JNF)

In the names of our loved ones on stolen Palestinian lands.

 

In 1948 the JNF took control of most land

Stolen from Palestinians

And developed a policy to lease land

Only to Jews on an openly discriminatory basis.

 

And so a tree grows on stolen land.

Should it be uprooted as a measure of justice

Or would that be a form of vengeance?

Palestinian olive trees have been uprooted by the regime

By the thousands

 

But it feels wrong to uproot this tree.

Instead I wish for this tree to subvert

And undermine the system of injustice that led to its planting.

 

May it and its fellow trees,

For there are many,

Pollinate nonviolent resistance to the

Violence of an apartheid state.

 

Unleash on the generals and the bombers and ground soldiers a fever

That prevents them from dropping bombs or

Reporting to missile-launching platforms

 

A fever that prevents planes from taking off

And warships from sailing the seas

And guns from shooting

And hate from being spread

 

A fever that breaks down the prison walls

And frees all the hostages everywhere

 

A fever of conscience and love and

Refusal to participate in the crimes of today

And those planned for tomorrow

A fever that brings people

To join hands

And cry out

"Nit mer genotsid in meyn nomen!"

No more genocide in my name.

 

(My heart breaks for all suffering right now in Palestine and Israel. Both peoples have suffered unspeakable grief and suffering during the explosion of violence this past week. May we add our voices to those, especially inside Israel and Palestine, calling for a ceasefire, for humanitarian aid corridors in Gaza, and for supports for all those who have been traumatized. And may we recognize our common humanity and, in doing so, undo the structures of oppression that have led us to here)