One year of our campaign

As I enter the third year of peacebuilding with Peace Starts Here, I think about the many ways our lives were changed by the campaign: routines we’ve built, connections we’ve made, and perspectives we’ve developed over time. Eleven people became a regular part of my week. I’m happy when things work out for them and worried when the news shows their countries and communities in distress.

I sketched this comic while in China; where I lived for a year. Around the time I left, the war and genocide in Gaza started, the entire region seemed to go up in flames and the war and violence in Sudan escalated, as well as in many other places around the world.

Being where I currently am, in Jordan, sometimes feels like sleep paralysis: seeing the worst right opposite you, yet being unable to move. In such times, we learn a lot about people around us and our own strengths and limitations. When the first wave of shelling flew across Jordan from Iran toward Israel, I froze. I was living in China at that time for a year. I was afraid to check on people I love until the next morning. I was about two days away by the nearest possible flight. I added the actual texts I got from my younger siblings to the comic.

When the second major wave of shelling crossed Jordan, I was already here. I was on my computer in the kitchen when I heard construction-like sounds. Then the building and windows started shaking. At that time, I had flatmates, and one of them came out of her room:

“I think I saw something in the sky.” “Like fireworks? Or construction work somewhere?” “I’m not sure. It was there and then it wasn’t.”

Then we both saw everything falling. Missiles and drones looked like stars and planets. I went to my balcony, called my family, and checked on loved ones. No one was crying except for me. In fact, people were out in the streets. Everyone told me that the first time was different, and that we were safe. But I couldn’t stop: every day for the past year, someone’s children has been under active shelling. Someone’s life’s work has been completely destroyed. Countries had been bouncing refugees back and forth between them.

Peace can be heavily politicized, associated with giving up rights or bending to international pressures from historically colonial countries and paving the way for more submissiveness with a lack of agency over collective futures. But to me, peace remains dignity, running water, education, and freedom from violence. 

This comic was developed with the idea that this form of creative expression can encourage conversations that otherwise seem out of reach. It provides visual context and makes the subject of peacebuilding appear more accessible.

Our participation in “Peacebuilding in a Time of Pessimism,” ICAN’s 10th Annual Forum in Tirana, Albania, was a particularly inspiring moment for Peace Starts Here. It was the first time I got the chance to meet one of our team members, Le, in person. Having worked together remotely for about two years and then finally seeing each other felt heart-warming.

Oftentimes I’m asked: so what do you hope to accomplish through Peace Starts Here? Can you stop anything from happening? And I get it. We want to see the suffering end. We want to live as if war is not even an option or a threat.

Let me tell you another story about connection in times of conflict. As someone who thrives on cultural exchange and human connection, I found myself retreating from the world I once eagerly explored at every given opportunity. 

The rising tide of pro-war rhetoric and racial prejudice didn’t just dim my view of new places – it threatened to extinguish my fundamental curiosity about human experience. Catching these thoughts transformed my understanding of the need to speak from whichever platform I’m given. It’s not just about ending physical conflicts, but about preserving our collective capacity for human connection before walls of fear and prejudice become insurmountable and more of us drown in the anger, disdain, and hatred of one another. 

In this third year, I want to see voices for peace embedded in a variety of organizations, from cooperatives to corporations. I want the conversations against war to be shame-free in more circles around me and other peacebuilders: shame should be that of the aggressors, of those who profit from pain and destruction, not ours.