CatiAdele is a student at the Centre for Justice and Peacebuilding at Eastern Mennonite University in Virginia, where she is pursuing a master’s degree in conflict transformation. My studies focus on nonviolent resistance, structural injustice and peacebuilding, based on practical experience.”
“My connection to Palestine began in secondary school when I visited family who were spending a sabbatical here. That experience shaped my lifelong commitment to justice and deepened my love for the land and its people. Since then, I have returned to Palestine several times to work, study and learn from those at the centre of the struggle for liberation.”
Tent of Nations is an educational farm run by the Palestinian Christian Nassar family, not far from Bethlehem, in the West Bank, which is illegally occupied by Israel. They live under occupation and are threatened by colonisation. Nevertheless, their motto is “We refuse to be enemies”. Friends of Tent of Nations Netherlands supports the family in their work. Foreign volunteers are very important, and a relatively large number of them come from the Netherlands. They are there not only to reduce the risk of attacks and destruction, but also to provide moral support to the Nassar family. And there is always a lot of practical work to be done on the farm. See www.tentofnations.com.
“Before starting my master’s programme, I worked in political justice and later at a foundation focused on women, peace and security, where I became more aware of how policy often seems disconnected from those most affected by it. I chose this programme because it prioritises community-based learning, global perspectives and practical experience through a student-designed internship.
My internship at Tent of Nations allows me to engage directly in land-based, nonviolent resistance and advocacy work, supporting sustainability, storytelling, and international solidarity. It is an opportunity to put into practice what I am learning: that peace requires proximity, that resistance can be regenerative, and that transformation begins from the bottom up.”
Why are you volunteering at Tent of Nations? When did you start here, how long will you stay, and what exactly do you do?
“I started volunteering at Tent of Nations in early September and will stay until early December 2025 as part of my graduation internship in conflict transformation. I am here because I believe in a form of peacebuilding that is rooted in land, dignity and relationships – a form that does not shy away from conflict, but faces it with courage, creativity and care.
Tent of Nations embodies this through its daily commitment to nonviolent resistance, sustainable agriculture and community education. The Nassar family’s steadfast refusal to be enemies, even in the face of violence, land expropriation and legal battles, is not only extremely courageous, but also spiritually impressive. Their work shows that nonviolence is not passive; it is a form of resilience, a way to maintain dignity and defy systems of erasure.
I volunteer here because I want to learn from this place, from the people, the land, the stories and the struggles, and because I want to assist the family in a spirit of solidarity and presence. My role includes participating in sustainable agriculture, assisting international visitors, supporting storytelling initiatives and contributing to educational programmes. But more than any task, my goal is to be part of a collective, ongoing effort to protect life—human and ecological—from the forces that seek to uproot and divide it.
At the heart of this work is the conviction that our collective humanity is deeply interconnected. I believe that every human being has inherent dignity, the right to self-determination, and the responsibility to remain in relationship with others and with the earth, which is also alive and sacred. For me, the liberation of Palestine is not separate from this conviction; it is an expression of the broader moral truth that none of us are free until we are all free. Being here, on this farm, in this season, means recommitting to that truth.”
What moves you? What touches you? Who or what inspires you?
“What moves me most is the quiet strength of people who choose to stay, not out of resignation, but as a form of resistance. The Nassar family’s dedication to this country and to each other, despite all attempts to drive them away, is touching. Their refusal to become enemies, even in the face of systematic violence, is not only inspiring but also instructive. It shows me what resilience, rooted in love and dignity, looks like.
I am touched by the daily acts of care that take place here – planting a tree, sharing a meal, teaching a child, welcoming a stranger. These are small, ordinary things, but in this context they are sacred. They remind me that peace is not abstract. It arises in relationships, through presence, through perseverance. I am inspired by people who live in the tension between sorrow and hope, who feel the burden of injustice and yet choose to build something beautiful in its shadow.
And I am inspired by the belief that our liberation is interconnected, that working for justice here means affirming the dignity of all people and of the land itself. That belief, that every life has value, that the earth is alive and that we belong together, is what keeps me grounded and allows me to grow in this work.”
How do you view the situation in Israel-Palestine? How do you think the suffering can be ended?
“In previous responses, I have talked about my time here at Tent of Nations and how I am learning from a place and a people who practise nonviolence not as a theory but as daily resistance. That is the lens through which I view the situation: as one of systematic injustice, a colonial reality in which one group is granted full rights and protection, while the other group lives under military occupation, dispossession and constant threat. Essentially, I see this as a struggle for dignity, land and self-determination.
It is not a symmetrical conflict; it is a deeply unequal reality shaped by decades of impunity, violence and international complicity. That does not mean I believe in despair. But it does mean that I resist narratives that reduce this to a question of “both sides” making peace. Peace cannot be built on erasure or enforced through domination.
As for how to end the suffering, I have no easy answers. But I believe it starts with telling the truth and holding people accountable. It requires listening to Palestinian voices, recognising the structures of oppression that perpetuate violence, and not normalising systems that treat some lives as more valuable than others.
Misery ends when dignity is restored, through justice, return, equal rights and healing. On a deeper level, I believe that transformation also requires spiritual clarity, the kind that emphasises our shared humanity. Peace work requires more than negotiation; it requires that we restore our relationships – with the land, with each other and with the moral imagination that allows us to see beyond domination and fear. And that is why I am here. Not because I have solutions, but because I believe that presence, listening and solidarity are important.
I believe liberation is possible – because I have glimpsed it in people who refuse to be enemies, who choose to plant trees when confronted with bulldozers, and who still believe in the sanctity of every life.”
Why would you recommend other young people to also volunteer – for a shorter or longer period – at Tent of Nations?
“Movements for justice require all kinds of people: educators, artists, organisers, researchers, care providers, communicators, and not everyone is destined to work in the field. That is not only acceptable, it is necessary. But if you feel drawn to learn alongside others in the field, if something in you is touched by the idea of living in close relationship with the land, the people, and the story—listen to that feeling.
Volunteering at Tent of Nations offers something many of us long for: the chance to be part of something that is rooted, relational, and real. It is not coercive and does not prescribe anything. It is not abstract. It is early mornings, shared meals, difficult questions, painful beauty, and daily quiet resistance. It is also a place that invites you, if you wish, to examine your own story, your own complicity, and your own capacity for solidarity.
For young people in particular, experiences like this can give them a new direction. It can teach you to slow down, to listen carefully and to see justice not only as a concept, but also as a practice, which is reflected in compost heaps, difficult conversations and planting trees that you may never sit under. If you feel drawn, not to save, but to learn, to change, to participate, then I would say: come. Come humbly, come ready to work, and come with the realisation that presence, when rooted in love and clarity, can also be a form of resistance.”
I don’t think you’re done talking yet. Is there anything else you’d like to share with our readers?
“Yes — I’d like to share that at the heart of my journey is a belief in the deep interconnectedness of all life. Our struggle for justice, including the liberation of Palestine, does not stand alone; it reflects a deeper calling to honour the inherent dignity of every human being and the living earth we all share.”
This conviction determines how I interact with the world. Not only as an academic or activist, but as a participant in a web of relationships that require care, responsibility and constant reflection. I also want to emphasise that meaningful change often requires both grassroots presence and systemic understanding. That is why I value spaces like the Tent of Nations and programmes like the Centre for Justice and Peacebuilding. They promote a practice of learning, together with those directly affected, rooted in humility and resilience. Ultimately, I hope to contribute to movements that focus on nonviolent resistance, collective healing, and transformative justice, recognising that liberation is a shared journey – one that invites us all to listen, act, and grow together.”
