‘It’s fragile work’: Conflict resolution for world leaders – and families

In December, the two of us – a former corporate executive and her 16-year-old daughter – hosted an extraordinary virtual relationship-building session in our living room. It featured three speakers: Teresa Leger Fernández, a Latina with Native American ancestry who is a Democratic United States representative of New Mexico and chair of the House Subcommittee on Indigenous Peoples; Michal Sella, a Jewish Israeli and the executive director of Givat Haviva, an organization that builds “shared society” between Israeli Arabs and Jews; and Mohammad Darawshe, a Palestinian Israeli who serves as that organization’s director of strategy.

What made the conversation so extraordinary was not that Palestinian, Jewish Israeli, and American leaders came together to talk about our path forward. That was special, but it happens, if not often enough.

Nor was it groundbreaking that the conversation touched on different kinds of indigeneity – Native American, Jewish, and Palestinian – although all three speakers did note the exquisite care it takes to navigate competing claims to holy ground. And Ms. Leger Fernández and Mr. Darawshe were both visibly moved to discover that they are each 17th-generation residents of their regions.

What was so unusual, especially for a Washington-based event featuring a member of Congress, was the humility and vulnerability each speaker brought to the conversation. Jewish Israelis and Palestinians are very used to arguing with one another. American officials are very used to lecturing both. But on that evening in our living room, all three leaders seemed remarkably determined to listen more than they spoke. Nobody heckled, lectured, or poked. Rather, each of them said, in their own way: My own people have been quite imperfect at sharing society. My country regularly stumbles. But despite the slow, uneven progress, I’ve devoted my life to moving my society forward, and tomorrow I’ll get up and do it again.

And what got transformed by that approach ... was us. 

We should pause here to mention that we are both board members of Heart of a Nation, a nonprofit that brings together progressive Israelis, progressive Palestinians, and progressive Americans to make all three societies better. We should also mention that right before the gathering, we engaged in some fairly typical, low-level, mother-daughter bickering. One of us didn’t like the other’s shoes; the other was annoyed at not having enough time to prepare her intro. But beneath that night’s nitpicking was another, more substantial concern. What if the discussion further exposed our different political views? One of us is a moderate incrementalist. The other believes in radical social change. We generally share goals, but not tactics. What if this discussion pushed us, personally, further apart?

To our immense relief, the opposite happened. As each leader spoke about the strengths and the flaws in their own societies, while still demonstrating deep care for the others, we witnessed healing connections being built that we longed to see mirrored in our own relationship. 

Of course, we were relieved to have pulled off the event successfully, bringing disparate leaders together around shared work. But it was more pivotal than that.

The next morning, we didn’t have our customary fight about who was late coming downstairs for the drive to school and who had set an unreasonably early departure time. That evening, we didn’t bicker about who was eating what (if anything) for dinner. Something in the way Ms. Leger Fernández, Ms. Sella, and Mr. Darawshe had come together, humbly and productively acknowledging their own societies’ shortcomings instead of zeroing in on others’, inspired a quiet resolution on both our parts to try to see things more often through each other’s eyes. In the “shared society” of our own household, we had work to do. And with that quiet resolve, we began to rebuild our own foundation, one in which we were on the same side, working together. Shoulder to shoulder.

Too much dialogue in the world – whether between nations, political parties, or parents and their teenagers – is focused on changing other people’s behavior. “Stop your bickering. Prioritize what I prioritize. Treat me with respect.” Human beings never tire of telling one another how to act.

To be sure, sometimes other people’s behaviors do need to change. Ms. Leger Fernández, Ms. Sella, and Mr. Darawshe must work tirelessly to advance justice and peace because too many other players have set those aspirations back. But in our living room, they showed us that when people share humility and curiosity, they can not only mitigate conflict and ease tension, but also draw energy and strength from new connections.

“It’s fragile work,” Congresswoman Leger Fernández said, reflecting on the surprising similarities between her work representing northern New Mexico and Givat Haviva’s work advancing Israeli shared society. Dignity, democracy, mutual respect – these things must be nurtured with fierce sensitivity. “Because everything we love is fragile, and everything we love must be fought for,” she said.

This mother and daughter felt less fragile after that night, and readier to fight for our own connection.

Everyone is taught to share in kindergarten, but after the early years – for both individuals and nations – the hard, holy task of sharing comes down to what a U.S. congresswoman and two foreign social entrepreneurs showed us in our living room: honor yourself, honor the other, and never give up the work. 

Kinney Zalesne is a former Microsoft executive. Adina Siff is an 11th grader at Georgetown Day School in Washington and a former intern with Rep. Teresa Leger Fernández. Mother and daughter are both founding committee members of Heart of a Nation.