Last Wednesday’s pro-Palestine study-in at the Howard-Tilton Memorial Library should serve as a wake-up call to our university. As the Israeli government’s brutal siege on Gaza continues, and many Israeli hostages remain in captivity, Tulane University students donned keffiyeh and taped political messages like “All Eyes on Gaza” and “As We Read, Gaza Bleeds” to their laptops, settling in for 24 hours of studying. A central table offered snacks and pro-Palestinian literature for passersby. The primary objective, it seemed, was for students to continue their long grind of a demanding semester while sharing their political beliefs. This was an innocuous brand of expression in a campus climate defined over the last year by moments of tension and volatility. As the day progressed, some students with Israeli flags and their own printed messages came to tables in the same common area. From the early afternoon through the night, these two camps coexisted in a shared space, studying and chatting within their respective communities. At one point in the early afternoon, a conversation began between a few pro-Palestine and pro-Israel students. The dialogue appeared respectful and productive despite some impassioned moments. As these students left for class, many exchanged handshakes and goodbyes.  

By nighttime, the first floor thinned out, and the din morphed into distinguishable conversations. Around midnight, I joined a second round of dialogue. I had spent the day at the study-in as a proud Jewish student upset by the Israeli government’s indiscriminate violence against civilians in Gaza. For me, Jewish solidarity with Palestinians is not only a right but an obligation. That night, I wondered if my fellow Jewish students would agree with me. When I sat down at their table and introduced myself, they immediately asked me if I supported Hamas. The question shook me to the core. How could I support Hamas, an organization that wants me and my people dead? I am a Jew from Alabama, who grew up with my father’s books on the Holocaust and who wept bitter tears while visiting Auschwitz earlier this year. How did my fellow Jewish students not recognize that for the study-in participants, the keffiyeh and the Palestinian flag were not signs of hatred but of solidarity and hope?  

That moment showed me how distorted the lines of communication have become on our campus, and how much work remains to foster mutual understanding between pro-Palestine and pro-Israel students. For the next three hours, we discussed everything — from Oct.7 and the Intifadas to the illegal settlements and the Nakba. No theme was off the table. We disagreed about some things and came to an understanding about others. But we all agreed that this last year has been profoundly painful for everyone. The wounds are so deep that it is hard to imagine them healing fully. But this moment felt like the beginning of the restorative process, at least on our campus. Tulane, it is now your job to help us.  

All Tulane students, regardless of religion, belief or affiliation, have earned their place at our university. We are smart enough, empathetic enough and curious enough to learn from those with whom we disagree, even under the most painful circumstances. Pro-Palestine students, some of whom have faced legal and disciplinary proceedings stemming from last semester’s encampments, are as impassioned as they were then. Pro-Israel students will continue to exercise their freedom to voice their support for Israel. These facts are undeniable. What is uncertain is how the university will navigate this contentious landscape. My proposal is a biweekly, university-facilitated roundtable discussion, in which administrators, faculty and students from all perspectives are invited to participate. Meetings would occur in the safety of university spaces where we can study this conflict together and understand it in all of its nuances. Based on what I witnessed on Wednesday, I sincerely believe that our students can rise to this occasion. “Non sibi, sed suis,” our motto, should not be empty words. They should be a call to action. Let us all embody them as we move forward together.  

Editor’s note: in The Hullabaloo’s November print edition, this letter was incorrectly credited to Views staff writer Owen Wu.i