Tabling for Jewish Voice for Peace at the Grand Army Plaza Farmers Market. For the last several weekends some JVP colleagues and I have set up a small table and distributed flyers to passersby, an attempt to both recruit new members and raise the visibility of anti-Zionist Jews in a Brooklyn neighborhood with a large Jewish population. Reactions run the gamut from supportive to outright hostile (‘Oh, I’ve heard of you guys, I love what you’re doing,’ or: ‘Fuck you.’) Near the end of our shift a man approaches the table where my colleague L and I are sitting. He points to our banner that reads, ‘Jews Say Stop the Genocide’: ’You know,’ he says, in a voice dripping with condescension, ‘you guys would attract a lot more people if you put underneath that, ‘… and Save the Hostages.’ ‘Which hostages,’ L fires back, alluding to the more than 10,000 Palestinian political prisoners currently being held in Israeli jails under conditions of torture and humiliation. She’s an immigration lawyer who happens to have family in Israel, and she doesn’t mince words. A long and exhausting debate ensues, during which the man, who describes himself as a filmmaker ‘critical of Israel’, nonetheless trots out the familiar tropes about how the Palestinians have sabotaged all attempts at peace and ultimately want to kill all the Jews. After ten or fifteen minutes of us talk-shouting arguments past each other the man leaves in a huff. Later, L and I are heading to the train together and stop in a deli for a drink. The clerk, a young man who could very well be of Palestinian descent, nods at my ‘Not in Our Name’ shirt and says, ‘Thanks for the T-shirt, brother.’ As we’re leaving L turns to me: ‘It’s interactions like that that make it all feel worth it.’