My visit to Gaza last month was mostly wrenching, but there were generous and compassionate moments, too. This post is about one of those moments.
On June 2, the UN Relief and Works Agency set up a meeting between the Code Pink delegation I had ended up with and the families of prisoners held in Israel. When we got to the government office on the south side of Gaza city, late as usual, we were surprised to discover that 40 or 50 family members had gathered (representing a fraction of the 10,000 families affected). We sat down in a row of chairs reserved for us and did our best to represent.
One after another, family members went up to the front of the room to tell their stories. Some tottered on canes. I was too stunned by the anguish to know what to do much more than stand there. Of all the pictures I carry away from Gaza, none may have affected me more than this little girl, holding a photo of her father. 
The climactic moment of the press conference occurred when the government minister of detainees asked the families what they would do with Israeli prisoner Gilad Shalit. They all shouted and waved their hands—Let him go. (A different response from the joke we heard somewhere else: during the Gaza war, Hamas was trying to capture a wife for him.)
The press conference also left me uncertain. The testimonials included nothing about what the imprisoned men had done, or were charged with. "Their only sin is that they resist occupation." OK, but I wanted more specifics—no matter what your opinion is of the legitimacy of resistance. I adopted a journalistic approach, and made this video of the crowd. I went up to many of the women and girls. Maybe I smiled a little. But I was more overwhelmed. The tour really starts 1:30 in.
How different Kit Kittredge-Siemion approached the same situation. When I saw what she was doing, I went over and followed her. A member of the antiwar group Code Pink, Kittredge-Siemion is an EMT, firefighter, farmer, mother of three, and massage therapist in the Olympic peninsula in Washington. Her approach to suffering was not pity or words or judgment. But see for yourself…
