Responsibility and Reconciliation

By Donna Richardia Mose

Aloha mai kakou e ‘Imi Maluhia (Hello all peace seekers):

“Are we responsible for the violence in our Nation’s?”  My answer is both yes (learn the truth and be apart of the restoration) and no (I realize you were not there, and are only a beneficiary of others choices).

Coming from a nation that is currently illegally occupied by america, I found myself at the center of a lot of questions and welcoming apologize from many students.  As well, I found many who professed to know my history, and still felt entitled to blindly go about life. The most surprising to me was everyone from ‘outside’ the US knew the story, but only a few within.  It has taken me a few weeks to digest the position I am in to educate everyone on the issues my nation is going through.

The greatest blessing to me was the 1st week at Nansen Center.  I was honored to be the final speaker for the Lillehammer Dialogue Center, giving my mana’o (thoughts) and ike (knowledge) on who we are as a people, and what my belief system is personally as a mother of 12 beautiful souls.  I have opened my home to 8 other special spirits, and this has caused me to further search for ways to better communicate and show love. Also, my search for ‘maluhia/peace’ was to help me reconcile the deep pain I experience living in Hawaii, while being a native Hawaiian.

My greatest test when returning home, is being able to take these experiences home with me.  Steinar Bryn told me, “My children often question my dialogue at home…I tell them I cannot always take my work home with me!” (Insert giggles of complete understanding).

I am deeply moved, and impacted by this experience.  It has given me the hope that we can all (in our various nations) find the solutions to fix the genocides and power struggles going on back home.  I am also aware of the responsibility I have to reconcile and change the outcomes of the illegal overthrow of the Hawaiian Kingdom.

Sitting on the beach at the Fjords, for the first time, in such a long time… I felt alive and peaceful.  I felt the makani (wind) as it brushed my face and the sun kissed my cheeks. I realized that you can find love in the simple things.  In the quiet places, in unfamiliar and unexpected places. You can find a common ground, no matter what ground you stand on.

For the rest of my life, I will fondly recall my Trans-International Ohana (Family).  The moment we all danced together in Steigners backyard will forever be sketched

in my puuwai (heart).  I want to express my deepest Mahalo Nui (gratitude) for sharing your stories, your lives, your smiles, your hugs, your culture and your precious time.  I wish I did this 30 years ago. Please remember we can #ChangeTheWorld we can breakdown the #InvisibleFences and we can recall upon this experience, as proof that we can do better with inclusive dialogue and and extra scoop of peace and LOVE!

 

A Thoughtful Lecture at PRIO

By Sabina Beck

Today, our Peace Scholars Seminar class gathered just outside of the Akademika bookstore, our typical pre-excursion meeting space, in order to depart as a group to the Peace Research Institute Oslo (PRIO). After a ride in the metro and short walk alongside various stores, restaurants, and organizations in the city, we arrived. The building was beautiful: brick walls with large, arched windows. Multiple students took photos next to the PRIO sign as we headed inside, and I’ll admit that I couldn’t help but take a few photos of the building myself. I’ll be sure to include some of our photos below 🙂

A short turn after the entrance led us to our lecture space, where we were greeted by a table with water, coffee, and cups – much needed with the busy life at ISS and surprisingly high temperatures of this summer. Before long, Dr. Henrik Syse, a research professor at PRIO and member of the Norwegian Nobel Committee, arrived to lead us through a presentation. An energetic and talkative spirit, Syse asked us all to introduce ourselves before launching into a brief description of PRIO and our topic for the day: values.

The lecture was intriguing. Not only did it describe the complicated role values can play in social and political contexts, it opened the door to thoughtful questions and criticisms regarding particular strategies for creating consensus across differences, the relationship between values and the state, human rights, and more.

There is so much to learn during my time here in Norway. Each day, I am trying to soak in as much insight and experience as possible. I am excited to see where these next three weeks will take me as well as how I will be able to reflect on and utilize my experience upon the completion of the program.

Reflections

By Chelsea Erling

Reflecting on the past three weeks, I am so grateful for all of the positive and negative experiences I have been exposed to here in Norway. I am stunned at how quickly all of us here at the University of Oslo, especially the Peace Scholars, have formed such strong connections. Also, I appreciate the platform I have been given as a Peace Scholar. Actively engaging with those who are working in the field at non-governmental organizations and institutions has been one of the most rewarding aspects of this programs and has helped my insight into my career and life goals.

In addition to the Peace Scholar Seminar, I am enrolled in the International Relations class and I am involved in the Student Council and the Solidarity Committee. Being a part of an international student government has been a tad overwhelming but overall it has been extremely positive. All of the students involved in the Student Council are determined to bring people together and make fun and unique events. Working with my friend and colleague Natasha on Solidarity Committee has been extremely exhilarating and I look forward to seeing the future of this committee as we plan more dialogue sessions and organized action events.

On a day to day basis, I do my best to plan other fun outings around my classes and Student Council activities in order to maximize my time here. I truly enjoy spending my time in Blindern with my friends or walking around by the dock and checking out little shops. Over the Long Weekend, I compiled a list of events, landmarks, and eateries I wanted to check out. Anuenue kindly accompanied me to the Botanical Gardens and Natural History Museum gift shop, as well as going to the Barcode for a free pop up art event around the art of Edvard Munch and Andy Warhol. We even got to make our own Andy Warhol and Edvard Munch-inspired art!

The week in Lillehammer was very eye opening and my time here at the University of Oslo has also been like this but I still have so many questions!  I am looking forward to taking these experiences with me and making a change for myself, my friends, my community, and the world.”

Existing in the In-between

By: Sarah Ward

July 16, 2018

Today we met with Henrik Syse, a member of the Nobel Peace Prize selection committee and research fellow at the Peace Research Institute of Oslo (PRIO). As part of his discussion with us, he referenced Plato’s concept of metaxy – the idea of existing in the ‘in-between’ or ‘middle ground’ — and also evaluated the tensions that exist in our values and policies. In elaborating on this topic, he identified tensions present between ‘local’ and ‘universal’ values and ‘traditional’ versus ‘modern’ values.

This past weekend marks the halfway point of my time at the International Summer School, and as I reflect on my summer spent in Norway I realize that I too am existing in the ‘middle ground’ in my relationship to my home community and my country. In our Peace Scholars cohort, many of us share many similar political values and moral belief structures; this has allowed me to retreat from a space of compromise or recognition of “the other”. However, today was a reminder that my values only represent half of the equation of compassion and understanding that I am striving to actualize in my own community.

Existing in the “middle ground” is almost always a place of tension. As I think of the community that I was born in, I recognize that many people do not share the same values as I do. While my values are perhaps ‘universal’ and ‘modern’, others are much more ‘traditional’ and ‘local’.Yet, where there is tension there is movement, and where there is movement I truly believe that there can be growth on both sides.

My time in Norway has challenged me to openly recognize tension when I see it and has given me the tools to productively exist in the ‘in-between’. As we observed in our dialogue sessions in Lillehammer, little is accomplished if everyone simply speaks to reinforce their specific position and values. Instead of using our conflicting values as bricks to build walls, dialogue seemed to offer us a way to reach across the middle ground in an attempt to connect with each other.

On the subway ride back from PRIO I was talking to a fellow peace scholar about the value of recognizing tensions and seeking common motivations for positive change. We agreed that all too often people are unwilling/unable to reach across divides and meet others where they stand. Yet, in a world that seems to be spiraling into polarization, this might be exactly what must be done if we hope to bridge our divides

I also believe that existing in the middle ground is an existence of privilege. I recognize that there are communities that may not be given equal space in dialogue or national conversations where these values are being analyzed and negotiated. Because of this, I have come to imagine my middle ground as a place where I stand firm with my core values of equality and representation, yet also work to address tensions that stand in the way of creating positive change.

I hope to use the tools and lessons that I learned in Norway to foster the courage and confidence to recognize the tensions between my beliefs and those of others, and to create a space within myself that is open to dialogue and brave enough to try to exist in the “in-between”.

Four weeks

By Ulises Jovel

It has been four weeks and some days since arriving in Norway. It has been 3 weeks since the International Summer school opened their doors to the international students seeking to explore the city and the academic challenges that the University offers.

For the last 3 weeks that we have been living in Oslo, we have gone to the beaches, the islands, we have laughed and cried alongside Colombians and Croats while watching the World Cup at the city center, but most importantly we have had time to be critical about the history, the politics and the policies not only of Norway but the West.

Alongside fellow students, we have discussed the concept of peace and dialogue and how this can be applied to different and more diverse communities. More specifically to countries who have suffered from a colonial past, countries that have and are still suffering the consequences of colonization, slavery, segregation, and racism. How can we ask a Latino or African Student to understand and to start a dialogue with someone who does not see the problems with color-blind policies that the U.S government imposes on their communities? In other words, how can we ask someone who is being oppressed to understand the other person’s experience in the case that the other person does not recognize their struggle as valid?  This an many more questions have arisen through discussion with the Nansen center, professors, and fellow students.

It has been quite an experience to meet with students from the Balkans, Latin America and Eastern Europe. Together we have analyzed the political situation and the possible scenarios where dialogue could and could not work.

So far this summer has been a learning experience, it has been long days, long conversations, however, it leaves a nice aftertaste, knowing that there are students, professionals, mothers, and fathers fighting against oppression and fighting for justice.

 

Lillehammer

By Manaal Ali

“My week at Lillehammer was one filled with many tears, laughs, adventures, and new friendships. The greatest part of this endeavor, however, has been the knowledge that I have gained from both my mentors and my peers. I have learned about distant countries such as Russia, Ukraine, Colombia, and the Balkans in the most important and arguably rare of ways: through the opinions of genuine people, with genuine experiences, and genuine emotions. Each day we were faced with the task of discussing various topics, and many times we found ourselves arguing instead with no progress in sight. Though the entire process was exhausting and dismal, I was surprised to find myself empathizing with all standpoints—even those that indirectly deemed me inferior based on my race, religion, and ethnicity. Now, since the Nansen Center, I have become more self-aware of my own biases and rash judgements. I will depart Norway with much sadness, but also with a determined mindset that takes everything that I have learned and puts it to good use.”

The Industry of Peace

By Rebecka Green

When you ask a ten year old, “what do you want to be when you grow up?” you’ll be likely to receive the answer of CEO, doctor, singer, vet, astronaut, maybe even the president. But a professional peace worker? A Nobel Peace Prize winner? Peace studies, in the United States, are not exactly pushed onto our children as a viable career path that will bring great fortune and fame.

Nobel Peace Prize committee member, Asle Toje, assured the Peace Scholars that, in Norway, peace work is a standard, accepted career path. Indeed, since being gifted the Nobel Peace Prize by Swedish inventor and humanitarian, Alfred Nobel, Norway has worked tirelessly to build themselves as the mecca of international peace, crafting perhaps the most prominent “peace industry” in the world—an industry where it is not only conceivable, but common, to make a living out of peace work.

If the idea of a “peace industry” in this context fits into the West’s traditional capitalist framework, you could say that the Peace Scholars are being “sold” the ideal of Norwegian peace, in addition to being investments for the peace building initiatives of the future.

In my time in Norway, I have found it difficult to “buy” into these Norwegian peace standards, especially since I have had a hard time separating industry from business enterprise. It seems hilltop-esque, six Norwegians sitting around a table each year, deciding who is most worthy of the Nobel Peace Prize investment, while much of the rest of the world swims below, some drowning, some barely floating along during the storm. At the same time, I understand the importance and merit of having a relatively neutral, consistent decision making process about peace work. However, I worry this paints peace building as monolithic.

In part, this discomfort stems from grappling with the realization I am interested in peace work as a future career, despite having grown up in a country where “peace” is often brushed off as elitist liberal idealism infused with 1960s Woodstock culture. The way I figure it, if I am going to be any kind of businesswoman one day, shouldn’t I enter into the business of peace building? There is little use in critiquing from the outside—in a way it is like sitting on my own hilltop. And this summer, this challenging, introspective summer in Norway, is one of many steps down that hill, and into the real world where peace initiatives begin to transform miles beyond their own efforts.

 

Becoming Familiar

by Alyssa Armstrong

It’s funny how quickly things can become familiar. My first week or so in Oslo was a whirlwind of orientation and classes and figuring out how to ride the T-bane, the tram here. It was exploring the city and getting lost and finding my way back. It was excursions and walks and making friends. All of it had that extended feeling that one gets when things are new, how each day seems to go on forever.

Everyday the world was new for me.

But now the city is familiar. I can navigate my way to the lake or shops or even the islands, taking the ferry. The walk to my class feels like a habit. I can spot friends in the cafeteria in the sea of faces that are scattered across the tables in the sunlit room.

In many ways, this process of becoming familiar and comfortable in a place is similar to the dialogue process. In Lillehammer, during my time at the Nansen Center for Peace and Dialogue, we learned much about dialoguing. So much goes into trying to make a dialogue work and so much of that is background things like location and scheduling and even what is served for dinner. But a few elements that are also important are creating a safe space, trust, and time.

It is time that I find most interesting of the three. This process is gradual and takes several days if not weeks, months, years, and even decades. Yet a week, which is what we had for an introduction to dialogue, showed me the value of it, the potential. In that week, all present shared much about themselves and the landscape of people’s lives became clearer. I heard stories from Colombia and Kosovo, Russia and Ukraine, the Kingdom of Hawaii and Albania. There were more, of course. So much happened in that week. The unfamiliar became familiar.

One of the driving questions was this: What shaped you?

It seems like a simply question, but it is full of depth and has the capacity to teach one much about themselves as well as another. Maybe it is questions—or really curiosity and inquiry, that lead us to understanding. The city and people here still hold more than I’ve seen. In the few weeks I have left, I plan to continue exploring. There is always more to see, and, perhaps it would be good to keep in mind these questions: What shaped you? What shaped this city? What shaped this country? What shaped the world?

 

A New Perspective

By Samson Mettler

When I applied the Peace Scholarship program my goal was to learn possible solutions to the problems my own community was facing. I didn’t really have a goal past that, I just wanted to gain perspective and get outside my United States bubble for a summer. What I got when I arrived was something completely unexpected, but the best things in life always are.

In normal everyday life you don’t get the opportunity to connect with people in completely different situations from you like you do at the Nansen Center. In one week I made friends with people from countries and backgrounds that I had never met before and had never dreamed of meeting. I found the perspective I was looking for and then some, and I’m all the better for it. It’s easy to allow yourself to stop growing, to let yourself get stuck in a rut of familiarity- but this trip has taught me how dangerous that place is. My experience at ISS has taught me how important it is for me to make sure I am constantly searching for more knowledge, in class and inside other people.

It has also taught me how much I’m not alone. Before I came here, I thought people didn’t care about my community and nobody could understand, but I learned it is so much more than that. So many people in so many communities go through similar problems, and their experience is drowned out by those in majority, those in power. I learned of the Kingdom of Hawaii, of war, of forgiveness and the importance of sharing your story, in hopes that other people will listen, learn, and add their voice to yours so we can be loud enough to create a lasting positive change.

Rooted and Reaching

By Aziza Ahmed

“If enough people value connecting and coming together, it could make a difference.” Steinar Bryn, a five-time Nobel Peace Prize Nominee, said that when a fellow peace scholar expressed their skepticism about the use of dialogue.

 

I have never been more humbled than I have been in the past two weeks. I spent last week in Lillehammer at the Nansen Dialogue Summer School surrounded by a serene vista. More moving than the views, however, were the people. I shared a space so intimately with people from the US, The Kingdom of Hawaii, the Balkans, Russia, Ukraine, Columbia, and Norway. Each of these people have marred–in a good way–my heart, what I thought I knew, my socio-political philosophy, and the way I walk in my own path. The world became so small in the span of week.

 

At Pacific Lutheran University, and in my sphere of work, particularly, we say that we are rooted and reaching. Meaning we are rooted in Lutheranism (who we are) and are reaching in a few different capacities. Reaching to build bridges, reaching for more knowledge, reaching for others… you get the idea. This phrase has stuck with me. I am rooted—in my Blackness, my Somalinimo, my Womanhood, and in my core values borne out of Islam—but I am also reaching in similar capacities. Coming to Norway, I knew that I was reaching. I thought I was reaching academically. I even said in my Peace Scholars application that, “my primary goal would be to come back to the PLU community having gained the skills and strategies pertaining to the principles of peacekeeping through the developed methodology and research that is borne out of Norway.”

 

I got so much more than that. I learned things that we’re so invaluable that I would have never learned in a formal classroom setting. I learned about myself, how I perceive the ‘other,’ and how to approach peace and conflict using dialogue. I also learned how little I know and had my roots shaken a bit.

 

Coming to the University of Oslo and learning about Peace and their welfare state more formally, I am now in the process of thinking about my role in peace building and the legacy I hope to leave. I’d like to think of myself of an action-based sponge. I soak up everything that I learn both formally and informally and apply what I’ve learned when I can. This experience was so profound that I am still unsure what form the knowledge I’ve gained here will take in action. Returning to the US, I am only sure of one thing: now more than ever, I see a desperate need for us (me) to bring people together and foster connections across the many facades division takes.