In fall of 1995 I was a second year student at UC Santa Cruz. I arrived at UCSC the previous fall fresh off a year living and working on Kibbutz Urim in the Negev. While in Israel I had watched the news, along with the world, in wonder and amazement as Yitzchak Rabin and Yasser Arafat shook hands on the White House lawn. As a student leader on campus I was hopeful and committed to the hard and difficult path towards peace and did my part by hosting guest speakers and facilitating dialogue. On a beautiful sunny day in November 1995 I again found myself watching the news, along with the world, in wonder and amazement. But this time, instead of hope and joy, I felt disappointment and sadness. Was it really possible that Rabin had been assassinated, and at the hand of another Jew? Recently, one of my children asked me, “Mom, do you really believe that peace is possible?” I considered for a moment and said, “Yes. It is the only thing that I can believe, because the other path is too painful.” As a child growing up, it was my parents’ friends who served in the military. Then it was my teachers, my peers, my students, and now my children’s friends who are of service age. Like Rabin said on the White House lawn, “Enough of blood and tears. Enough.” As a child I learned the Song for Peace, Shir L’Shalom, which Rabin had sung with others working for peace shortly before he was assassinated. One line always stood out to me: