Nasser Weddady, outreach director of program partner Hands Across the Mideast Support Alliance (HAMSA), visited UUSC's offices yesterday and made a presentation about his organization's work. Weddady was joined by Harvard student Zahra Hirji.

UUSC’s civil liberties program manager, Wayne Smith, said, “In my humble view, HAMSA is doing important and very good work and it is a pleasure to build bridges of understanding and cooperation between Muslims and non-Muslims.”

Weddady and Hirji shared with us the work that this partner is doing to deepen understanding for people of all backgrounds, and to secure civil liberties and rights for people in the Middle East. HAMSA is a program of the American Islamic Congress, whose goal is to “unite all Americans in support of civil liberties and civil rights for the people in the Middle East.”

With UUSC's support, HAMSA presented a Fellowship Seminar for future leaders in Washington, D.C., and reproduced the SCLC's "The Montgomery Story: A Civil Rights Comic Book" in Arabic and Farsi for distribution in Iran and other Middle Eastern nations. They also shared about their work to help free Egyptian blogger AbdelKareem Nabil Soliman, jailed for expressing his political views.

“We’re not trying to impose democracy in the Middle East,” explained Hirji. “What we’re really about is emphasizing civil rights.”

Sudanese activist Omer Ismail issued a challenge to those of us present for his talk about Darfur yesterday. He said, “History will judge us one day. And not only history . . . somebody, your grandchildren or children will ask you one day, ‘What have you done when genocide was declared in Darfur?’ I want you to look them straight in the eye and say ‘I was there, and I’m proud to report I have done something about it.’”

It was a great honor for me to meet Omer while he was here at GA, and deeply moving to learn of the way he has given his entire life to do the work of his heart: seeking peace and justice for the people of Darfur.

We can’t all do that, to be sure. But I think if there is one message that has really resonated throughout this GA is that we should each respond in the ways that we are individually and personally moved to respond. For some people, it’s signing a letter to the International Olympic Committee, urging them to push China to take action on Sudan. For others, it will be taking part in our community event on Sunday.

Charlie Clements, UUSC’s president said, “[Sudanese President] Bashir wants you to feel helpless, he wants you to think you can’t do anything about it. We have to prove him wrong.” Ismail said, “For evil to triumph, it only takes one person like me or you to stand on the sidelines.”

Last night, at UUSC’s annual meeting, I was deeply inspired to hear the stories of those UUSC volunteers and supporters as they received UUSC’s top awards for social justice leadership. One of them, Rev. Richard Gilbert, the recipient of the Social Action Leadership Award, recalled an old UUSC poster with the slogan, “Who are you to think you can change the world?”

Gilbert and the others who were honored last night don’t seem to be asking themselves that question, though, and neither is Omer Ismail. Rather, they seem to be asking another question, one that leads more to action, that is, “Who are you to think you can’t change the world?”

There has been an incredible amount of energy here at GA around UUSC's Drumbeat for Darfur campaign and the work to end the Darfur genocide. But there is another issue that is very much on people's minds here in Portland, Ore., and that's the war in Iraq.

This afternoon, the UU Peace Fellowship presented Camilo Mejia with its Adin Ballou Peace Award, given annually to someone who has made a significant contribution to advancing the cause of peace in the world. After five months of service in Iraq, Mejia came to the conclusion that he could not and would not support the Iraq war. For letting his conscience be his guide, he served one year in military prison for refusing further duty in Iraq.

During his time in Iraq, one of Mejia's jobs was to "soften" Iraqi prisoners, many of whom he knew to be innocent civilians. He became disgusted with this abuse and could no longer stomach the things he was asked to do. His compassion grew, but at first he felt powerless to act.

"In the face of the abuse of the dignity of the Iraqi people, I remained paralyzed and kept my mouth shut," he said. "But a change was taking place inside of me. Not because of how the war was affecting me, but because of how the war was affecting the people of Iraq."

"We're doing the Iraqi people a disservice if we turn away from the horror," added Charlie Clements, UUSC's president.

Mejia was adamant that we have to stand up for what we believe in, and fiercely defended the right of our service men and women to do so. "It is not only our right to refuse to fight," he said, "it's our legal duty. It's our moral duty to humanity to refuse and resist."

Millions of Iraqi civilians have been displaced now. It's a humanitarian crisis that is growing daily, and who better to bear witness than someone like Mejia, who has been there. He is asking us to bear witness with him to two sides of the same of coin that is Iraq: by supporting the rights of the people in that nation, and supporting the rights of our troops who, like him, are trying to right what they have seen as a terrible wrong.

I just got back from a moving workshop here at General Assembly led by Frances Moore Lappé. Many of you may know her as the author of Diet for A Small Planet; she is also the author of Democracy's Edge.

Lappé led a talk called "Transforming Despair into Action for Darfur," addressing a topic that is certainly something I thought about: when faced with what seems like a totally hopeless situation, how do you find the hope to go on?

She touched on the lessons of the Holocaust, and drew parallels between what was learned during the Stanford Prison Experiment and what was seen at Abu Ghraib, saying "Most of us, given the right -- that is, the wrong -- conditions, would be involved in inhumane actions."

So we acknowledge that humans are capable of great evil -- what then? Lappé spoke of one way we could look at it, through the lens of "reality-based hope," saying, "It does take effort, but I consider it a joyful effort."

The point is that in this world of great evil, there also exists great good. Lappé called it living in a "both/and" world. And for her, it is from this duality that hope springs.

"It's not possible to know what's possible," she said. "Therefore, we are free to hope."

This is possible, she said, because of "the courage of the expanding heart." She said, "We can face the horror in Darfur . . . without our hearts breaking when we realize that our hearts have the capacity to hold it all."

Thalia Twins is writing about the recent Return to the Earth JustWorks camp.

My name is Thalia Twins. I am of Cheyenne, Caddo, Kiowa, and Comanche decent. My parents moved back to Oklahoma from Los Angeles, Calif., when I was only five so that my brothers as well as myself would know who we are and where we came from.

Clinton, Okla., is where my Cheyenne side lived, so I was primarily raised Cheyenne, but also learned about my other tribes and traditions. Spending most of my childhood in Clinton, a sense of community is something I learned early on with family and other families.

Lawrence Hart, knowing me most of my life, approached me with an opportunity to be a part of Return to the Earth project. Once I became familiar with what the project did, it became apparent how much a project like this was needed. Being able to repatriate and bring restorative justice of ancestors lost or forgotten is a feeling of vindication as part of the human race.

I was honored to be asked to document the Return to the Earth project, especially since film is my ultimate goal. Working with Lawrence on bringing this project to life as well as documenting it is a phenomenal experience. It also allowed me to meet the people from UUSC during the week-long JustWorks camp. The people involved got to learn a little history from the morning lectures from Lawrence Hart, and worked hard painting, cleaning, and doing work in the garden during the afternoon. It was a definite ecumenical effort.

Having UUSC be a part of the process is so refreshing. Having the JustWorks camp come in to help finish the building dedicated to holding the remains seems small but, in fact, is a crucial and important part of the process. The building is going to be used to hold the remains until they are reported to the federal register and they are ready for actual burial.

I also learned so much about the people involved, especially the staff. Interviewing the different people, personalities, and background gave me a wide scope to draw from.

I believe that responsibilities from our ancestors have been left for our generations to take care of. A friend asked me, "How come you waste time stuck in the past when you should be worrying about the future?" But I don’t believe it's wasting time or energy. On the contrary, taking care of the past ensures a stable place to move forward from. Not having closure is a factor in why so many of our Nations are having so many struggles.

It was an honor and it was interesting to be able to work with the different people from UUSC. It helped me understand what the organization is and what it does.

Beth Brownfield of the Bellingham Unitarian Fellowship in Washington state is a participant in the UUSC Return to the Earth JustWorks camp.

I met Lawrence Hart, Cheyenne peace chief and director of the Cheyenne Cultural Center of Clinton, Okla., in Washington, D.C., in March 2006. He told us then about a project called Return to the Earth. He explained how between 600,000 and 2 million Native American remains were collected and are still stored in our museums and universities; of these, up to 110,000 of them are “unidentified.” This means that information about where they were collected was either not taken or lost.

Under the Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act (NAGPRA), tribes may claim those remains that are identified pertinent to their culture. There was nothing in place for claiming and burying with honor the unidentified remains.

Hearing Lawrence describe his program and understanding the call to study their materials, construct burial boxes (the size of a human skull), and sew burial clothes, I knew that this was something Unitarian Universalist congregations could do as an act of restorative justice. I also interested Lawrence in hosting a UUSC JustWorks camp where people from across the nation could come and work on finishing up this first burial site.

It is beyond description to share the emotions and thrill of participating physically in this project with other committed people. We have had incredible teachings from Lawrence, shared meals prepared by his wife Betty, and learned a lot about Cheyenne culture. We have worked hard, scraping rust off of fence posts and painting them brick red. We also completed painting the building that will house the remains as they are repatriated, the burial boxes and burial cloths, as they are completed, and until proper ceremony and reburial can take place.

Return to the Earth is an effort of love, compassion, restorative justice, and reconciliation. What an honor it is to be a small part of its unfolding. My husband Jerry and I are participants in this JustWorks camp. I have a commitment to bring this project of study, building burial boxes, and sewing burial cloths to congregations in the Pacific Northwest and then to the entire country.

Our Bellingham Unitarian Fellowship had 39 people participate in this study-action program. It was profound. Not only did we learn about repatriation work, but we also learned about our neighboring tribes, Indian boarding schools, sovereignty, and treaties.

Return to the Earth is made for UUs' commitment to the worth and dignity of all people, and to justice and compassion in human relations. JustWorks carries that commitment several steps beyond that.

John Dewell is a participant in the Return to the Earth JustWorks camp.

Sitting here at the Cheyenne Cultural Center in Clinton, Okla., during a break at the UUSC JustWorks camp held during the third week of March 2007, I am reflecting on the words of Lawrence Hart, the center's executive director, during our daily educational classes.

As I have painted oil pipe fencing and the exterior of the third building constructed, and pruned and cleaned the Native plants garden, I have reflected on the situations and circumstances that left over 100,000 Native American remains and artifacts to sit on the shelves of university and museum storage rooms, often in the bowels of that institution.

People who lived the Red Way and honored Mother Earth were cast off after being destroyed by the Europeans who came and claimed their land. A proud people, who Jefferson, Adams, Franklin, Paine, and other founding fathers looked to in establishing the government to run this new country of the United States of America.

It was a civilization of 538 tribes with a loving and caring familial system which treasured their children, protected the family structure, and treated their elders with respect. Death did not end this system of caring, respect, and protection. The dead were venerated and sent to the next life with a sacredness that said you, as the bison, have given us much and we place you in a safe and holy place.

The government during the hostilities with various tribes, the resettlement begun by Jackson and many presidents who followed, and the collectors who unearthed and sold or studied these remains and artifacts as if they were buried treasure, leave me anguished.