Sisters of Hope

Morning circle at the House of Hope in the West Bank.

Waldorf education heals trauma, restores imagination and joy, and helps children connect with beauty and life. 

Erziehungskunst | How and where did you two meet?

Thea | Our first meeting was a miracle. It felt as if the universe had decided to bring us together, despite the distance between us and the fact that we come from two hostile nations. That was in 2016 in Portland, Oregon, at my synagogue, Congregation Shir Tikvah, founded by Rabbi Ariel Stone. My mother is Jewish and my father is Catholic, so I have always navigated between different identities and grappled with complexity. I only found out about the event at the synagogue at the last minute and almost didn't go. But something drove me out the door that evening. When I heard Milad and Manar talk about the pain of occupation and the healing power of education and love, I was deeply moved. I stood up, applauded, and ran over to them to get to know them. That was the beginning of everything.

Manar | At that time, I was in the United States with my husband Milad. We were there for a short lecture tour and training in Nonviolent Communication. Our visit to Shir Tikvah was not planned. It was a spontaneous decision and the last lecture of our trip. It was not easy for me to speak in a synagogue. It felt like a risk. I didn't know how people would view us, whether they would accept our words about the occupation. But Shir Tikvah was open and supportive. They listened. When Thea stood up and applauded, when she approached us with an open heart, I immediately sensed: This is the beginning of something important.

EK | You call each other sisters. What made you become sisters?

M | We became sisters first as mothers and then as artists. We both had two small children who were almost the same age, so we understood each other's lives—the joy, the exhaustion, the boundless love. I am a singer-songwriter and Thea is a poet. From the beginning, we recognized each other as artists and mothers, and this realization made the connection seem immediate and natural. I felt connected to her right away. I could tell her about my worries, my stress, and my pain, and she listened attentively. She didn't judge me. She just opened her heart to me. It was unusual for me to feel so much trust toward a woman from America. It gave me courage. It felt like family.

T | For me, sisterhood came about through motherhood. My identity was shaped by layers of inherited trauma, and for a long time I reacted defensively whenever the word Palestine was mentioned. But when I met Manar, I asked myself a simple question: What would I do if I were a Palestinian mother trying to raise my children under these conditions? That question changed everything. When I answered it honestly, all my walls came crashing down. The defensiveness, the inherited fears, the artificial divisions—they dissolved. What remained was the truth: we are both mothers. This realization became the gateway to sisterhood. We were no longer representatives of two sides in a conflict—we were women, mothers, and artists, connected by the same love for our children.

EK | What does your collaboration mean to you?

T | For me, cooperation means supporting Manar's vision. My motto now is «Palestinian women under occupation». I don't want to dictate to Manar or tell her what to do. I want to be the one who carries bricks, builds behind her, and makes sure she has a strong foundation. My job is to give her voice more weight, create space for her leadership, and ensure that her vision for the House of Hope can flourish.

M | For me, cooperation always means energy. We talk to each other almost every day. We talk about the school and how we can expand our peace work. Sometimes it's about very practical things – for example, how we can keep the school running when money is tight, or how we can give more food to the children who come to school hungry. Sometimes it's about visions – for example, how we can reach more Palestinian families who want a Waldorf education, or how we can tell our story so that the world understands what is happening here.

EK | What are your shared ideals and goals?

T | Our greatest shared ideal is «humanity first». That sounds simple, but in our context it is radical. We encounter each other first and foremost as human beings. At the same time, we never close our eyes to the reality of military occupation and systemic oppression that Palestinians live under every day. Both truths exist side by side: our humanity is the same, but our traumas are not.

M | My goal is to help Palestinians remain on their land with dignity and in peace. This means strengthening families and communities so that they can remain steadfast—sumud—but also healthy, rooted, and connected to life itself. I want children not only to survive, but to grow up in harmony with the land, breathe fresh air, learn about their heritage, and know that they belong here. The first seven years of life are the roots. If children grow up with only stress and fear, they can lose hope. But if they are surrounded by love, safe schools, and caring teachers, they can become strong inside. Strong children mean strong families. Strong families mean strong communities. And strong communities mean that Palestinians can remain in their country—at peace with themselves, at peace with their neighbors, and at peace with the nature that surrounds us all. I believe that Waldorf education is a trauma-informed pedagogy. According to Australian education professor Tom Brunzell, who specializes in trauma-informed teaching, effective practice always involves three things: it restores attachment to caregivers, builds on the child's strengths, and teaches emotional regulation through consistent, predictable experiences. When I first heard this, I thought: that's exactly what we do every day in a Waldorf classroom. Rhythm and relationships are at the heart of it. Through songs, stories, and daily routines, we rebuild the sense of security and safety that is often destroyed by trauma. The creative parts of the curriculum—music, art, crafts, movement—help children reconnect with their own inner abilities and regain a sense of pride and worth. It's not just about academic instruction. It is a therapeutic practice of reconnection, resilience, and love. That is why I believe in Waldorf education. It heals trauma, restores imagination and joy, and helps children connect with beauty and life. For us, education is not just about academic achievement—it is about creating peace, living with dignity, and remaining rooted in our country.

EK | What are your biggest challenges?

T | The biggest challenge is exhaustion. The work is never-ending—there is never enough money, never enough time, never enough resources. And we are also mothers raising our children while trying to make peace. That balance is overwhelming.

M | What we need is more support. More donations, yes, but also more people. People who visit us, volunteer, tell others about us. Every person who supports us gives me new strength. When I see people joining us, I feel less alone. That's what keeps me going, even when I'm tired.

EK | What makes you happy? What do you look back on with satisfaction?

T | (laughing) For me, joy is Nutella with labneh, the cream cheese-like yogurt, something I came up with during my visits to the West Bank after long days of work. It's incredible. But my deepest joy is the miracle that the House of Hope still exists. It was founded in 2007 and, almost twenty years later, is still alive and strong. In a place where so much is destroyed, the continued existence of the House of Hope is a miracle in itself. Every year, the school grows. Every year, the curriculum expands. Every year, the circle of children, parents, and teachers grows. That is the joy of a life well lived.

M | For me, joy means walking in nature. Being with trees, breathing fresh air, being able to move freely. Without fear of a soldier appearing, without harassment. In nature, I feel peace. I feel myself. And I feel joy when I see how lively the school is, when I see how happy the children are learning. We have been fighting for so many years to keep the House of Hope alive, and yet it continues to grow. That is joy. That is strength.

EK | What else is important for you to say?

M | Come and build peace with us. 

www.houseofhope.vision
Waldorf Bethanien
IBAN: AT42 3500 0000 4215 5465
BIC: RVSAAT2S

The interview was conducted by Isabella Geier.