On July 18th, I was booked to play a show in the Village of Glencoe, Illinois, a suburb just north of Chicago. The show went rather unexpectedly and has prompted over a month of deep reflection about conflict and peace-making. In this installment of “Inshallah & The Creek Don’t Rise,” I want to tell you the story of what happened at the show in Glencoe, the aftermath, and how it all relates to so much of what is going on in the world today.
To give you some background: the Glencoe Writers Theatre has been partnering with their public library and Village government to have free Friday night events with food trucks and live music. These “Glencoe Al Fresco” events are held in a public park that sits between the theatre and the library. I was booked to play with my band from 5:30-7:30pm on Friday, July 18th.
My guitarist arrives at 3:30pm and started to unload his gear. An employee from the Writers Theatre tells him not to finish setting up because, “We might have to move the stage.” The drummer and I arrive shortly after and the theatre employee tells us the same thing. We sit tight. Almost an hour later, we’re starting to get worried. We have to set up the whole sound system before our set at 5:30pm. I go find the employee from the Writers Theatre and ask if she has any updates. She says no. I tell her if we don’t get a verdict soon about where the stage is going to be, we will not be able to start the show on time. She insists she doesn’t have any more information for me. We wait a little longer. As a band, we talk about how they haven’t told us what the problem is with the stage, and if they told us what was wrong, maybe we could help problem-solve. I went back to the theatre employee. I asked if she wanted to tell us what the issue was with the stage, because maybe we could help solve it. “We brought a 100-foot extension cable, if that’d be helpful!” I offered, chipperly. She gave a nervous laugh. “No, there’s nothing you can do. It’s a problem with the Village. But I don’t have any more information for you yet.”
Our confusion growing, we waited a little more. Shortly after 5:00pm, two employees from the Writers Theatre approached us, looking uncomfortable. “We have some bad news. What’s been going on is that some people in the community complained that you are anti-Israel, and the Village decided to cancel your performance. We still want you to perform, but we need to move you inside the theatre. We’re so sorry about all of this.” In the distance, by the entrance to the theatre, I saw that two police officers had arrived.
I kept my cool. But I asked a follow-up question. “Why do you need to move me inside? Is it that you still want music for the event, but you don’t want me to be visible?” The Writers Theatre employees answered, “No, not at all. It’s just that the Village decided that you can’t play on Village property. But the theatre is private property and they don’t have a say over what we do in the space and we still want you to perform.” They apologized profusely and explained that there has been a very loud “vigilante” presence in Glencoe who have been vocal and disruptive a number of times over the past few years. Apparently the complaints about me just came in today, hence the last-minute deliberations. The promo photo of me, a woman in a hijab, had only been released a day or two prior. Some people had looked me up on social media and found a keffiyeh in the background of some of my videos and statements in support of Palestinians and complained that I had engaged in hate speech and was a threat to the Jewish community in Glencoe. The complaints even caused some kind of shouting match involving the Village president, the theatre employees said. The people who had complained apparently had been threatening to protest and call Fox News.
I swallowed hard and decided to break the tension. “Now I understand why this couldn’t be solved with a 100-foot extension cable,” I said, and everyone laughed, a little relieved. I agreed to play inside the theatre. We played a shortened set. The two cops poked their heads in for a few songs and then we didn’t see them again. The Writers Theatre did a good job directing people from the food trucks to the area where we were performing, so we had an audience. I brought my keffiyeh onstage for the entire performance. No one said a word about it. Kids danced to some of our original songs. Everyone sang along to our cover of Stevie Nick’s classic “Landslide.” Everyone had a lovely time.
But afterwards I got to decompress with the band. The drummer said he didn’t know whether to laugh or scream, and that it felt like we had entered some kind of sundown town for Muslims, getting whisked out of a public space lest an angry mob form. The guitarist said that he felt like we handled the situation with dignity because we kept our composure and did our job despite the absurdity of everything happening. I reflected about how it must have been the promo photo of me that set these people off to go scrutinize my social media in the first place.
The following Monday I sent an email to the Village communications manager asking to hear her perspective about what happened, given that I did not get to speak directly with any Village officials on the day of the event. I heard nothing back all week.
My dear friend Al Scorch was scheduled to play the exact same event the following Friday. I told him about everything that had transpired during my show. Al is Irish and has been outspoken about Palestine on social media for many years and has uplifted Irish-Palestinian solidarity frequently. But he made a special effort to post about Palestine on his social media every day leading up to his performance in Glencoe. He received no scrutiny and no complaints. He performed in the Village park without issue. But at the end of his performance, he took to the mic to speak about Palestine, and also about what had happened to my band the week before. A Writers Theatre employee came on stage to try and intervene, but Al continued. He pointed out that, despite our similar content on social media, I was scrutinized and removed from a public space, and he was not. He noted that the only difference seemed to be that I am Muslim and he is not. He asked the audience to consider whether they need a different Village council who will actually stand up to the bullies who are trying to make Glencoe a very different experience for people depending on how they look.
Al said that he received a very warm response from the audience. People came up and talked to him about how frustrated they are with this very vocal group within their community. Al received messages of support on his social media afterwards. Clearly, plenty of people in Glencoe are tired of their neighbor’s antics and appreciated hearing it talked about so directly.
The Monday after Al’s performance I followed up with the Village communications manager. This time, she responded.
“For background, around an hour or so prior to your performance, the Village and our community partners organizing the event (Writers Theatre and the Glencoe Public Library) received several messages from residents expressing concern with some political comments seen on your Instagram account. These messages called for us to cancel the performance and some indicated there might be a possible protest at the event, which concerned all of us from a public safety perspective. Our Public Safety resources were especially limited that evening due to another large-scale event setting up in the downtown at the same time which required a number of our Public Safety personnel for traffic control. With the limited amount of time and stretched resources we had leading up to your set, together with our partners at Writers, we acted in the way we thought was best at the time to ensure everyone’s safety and that the performance would go on uninterrupted. As the musician on July 11 had performed in the Writers Theatre building, we also drew upon that experience in making the call to move you inside. I apologize if the move was not clearly communicated on the day of the event. In retrospect, I should have connected with you personally. Our actions sought only to ensure everyone’s safety on what turned out to be a wonderful evening for the community. Please let me know if you have any follow up questions. I’m happy to discuss this with you over the phone as well.”
I asked to see the original complaints that were sent about me. The communications manager said that information could not be shared unless I FOIA’d the Village. So I FOIA’d the Village. Here are the messages that were sent:
“Dear Glencoe neighbors, Tonight’s Al-Fresco event at Writers Theatre features Lyn Rye, a performer whose Instagram broadcasts anti-Israel/anti-Jew activism….see her below flashing a keffiyeh—a symbol Jews see as pure hate. While Glencoe’s DEI Committee, hiding behind the “Community and Inclusion” label, calls this “equity and inclusion” we all know it’s a middle finger to our Jewish neighbors amid raging antisemitism. With Chicagoland’s wealth of talent, choosing Rye is a deliberate slap in our faces — not to mention on Shabbat. The Village of Glencoe and its DEI Committee’s (many cc’d here) obsession with divisive symbols betrays Glencoe’s values. Who greenlit this? Why are they peddling hate as inclusion? Glencoe deserves better than this ideological rot. Shabbat Shalom.”
“This Instagram video where she specifically refers to “pinkwashing” and “genocide” in Gaza is one example of why she is NOT appropriate for a Glencoe funded program. Politics don’t deserve public platforms.”
“There’s so much more. If the DEI committee cannot discern from even a cursory glance at this artist’s public statements and social media that she is entirely unsuited for Glencoe, then it is either willfully blind or stunningly incompetent. It is not enough to posture about “inclusion” while neglecting to protect the very community one claims to serve. This is not due diligence; it is dereliction.”
“In January 2025, Rye penned an essay (part of their Inshallah & The Creek Don’t Rise series) imploring people to take action for justice in Palestine. “Even if it is one less bomb that Israel has in its arsenal. Even if it is one inch closer to ceasefire, or one inch closer to liberation,” Rye wrote, emphasizing that every act of resistance counts . This statement—published on Rye’s Substack and social media—clearly voices opposition to Israel’s military operations and a desire for Palestinian liberation.”
“Hi [x] and [y,] My name is [z] and I live on [w] in Glencoe. Thank you so much for serving as our village president and manager. I love Glencoe! However I was just informed that a pro-Palestinian performer, Lyn Rye, has been hired for tonight’s Glencoe Al-Fresco event outside the Writers Theater. You can find references to her support all over her Instagram; below is one example with her Kefiyah (which has become a symbol of hate). In a community that has a sizable Jewish population and at a time when we are facing historic levels of anti-semitism, it is a tone deaf selection when we have so much musical talent throughout Chicagoland. Needless to say, I am very upset about this and you should know that the news is going viral through our community. I’m hoping it’s not too late for you to take some kind of action.”
“I can say with confidence that having someone like Lyne DOES NOT create a space that feels safe or welcome. Candidly, she seems to have a lot of hate in her. The Jewish community makes up +30% of the Glencoe population. Inviting an antisemitic individual to anything in Glencoe seems far from creating an inclusive environment. To further this, in looking at hate crimes in Chicago for the year 2024 you saw those numbers down 25% (which is terrific). Unfortunately, anti-Jewish hate crime was +58%, accounting for 37% of all reported hate crimes in the city. It’s hard to believe this considering that Jewish residents make up only 3% of the population. Sadly, anti-gay crimes was up as well. I don’t think our community would ever invite someone who is anti-gay to an event. It’s hard enough for our Jewish community as is right now. Please think about this when funding/supporting future events in our town.”
“Can one of you please explain the thought process in bringing this to a community
discussion that’s + 30% Jewish?”
“Dear Chair of the Community and Inclusion Committee,
I am writing to express concern and disgust regarding the selection and approval of a performer at an Al Fresco community event taking place Friday, July 18. That such a performer who has publicly expressed hateful, antisemitic views is welcomed to perform in Glencoe is deeply troubling and disappointing. By allowing Lyn Rye, a performer whose Instagram broadcasts anti-Israel/anti-Jew activism, is threatening and offensive, the safety of Glencoe residents is being undermined. If your committee stands for respect, diversity and mutual understanding, how then did someone who openly spreads hatred toward Jews gain approval to participate at a public event? The presence of this performer sends a dangerous message to Jewish residents: that our safety and inclusion are somehow negotiable. I am asking the committee to immediately conduct a full review of how this individual was vetted and approved, to publicly acknowledge the harm this has caused, and to commit to transparent and accountable processes moving forward that ensure no platform is given to hate in our community. Glencoe deserves better. Our Jewish neighbors, children and families deserve better.”
“Thank you, [x] for raising this and bringing it to our attention. Glencoe can and should do better than this. Regardless of your political beliefs, I’d hope we all agree that community programs such as this are NOT a place for politics. Particularly not those rooted in hate and intolerance for a community living within Glencoe. This is an incredibly disappointing and sad choice.”
It was a lot to unpack. But I was also tickled by the thought, “Omg, someone read my Substack?? Whaaat? Omg, thank youuuu.” The line between a hater and a fan is a thin one when it comes to wracking up views on social media. But anyway.
For the record: I am opposed to Israel’s current military strategy. I do pray for an immediate ceasefire in Gaza. I have openly talked about pinkwashing and genocide on my social media. There is a keffiyeh visible in a number of my videos. I do support the liberation and self-determination of Palestinian people. So they are correct, in that respect. But I have never advocated for violence against Jewish people, or any people, anywhere. In October of 2023, I attended the funeral of Wadea Al-Fayoume, the 6-year-old Palestinian boy who was murdered by his landlord in a hate crime not long after Hamas’s attack on October 7th. I posted a reflection after the funeral. I described how one elderly woman cried out for Benjamin Netanyahu to come fight her personally to end this once and for all so that no more children had to die. I believe she spoke for so many of us. But the cry was to Mr. Netanyahu, not to our Jewish neighbors and friends.
In the two years since, everything has gotten worse. As The Guardian recently published, “Figures from a classified Israeli military intelligence database indicate five out of six Palestinians killed by Israeli forces in Gaza have been civilians, an extreme rate of slaughter rarely matched in recent decades of warfare.” The United Nations has officially confirmed famine in Gaza for the first time, as Israel prepares for a military takeover of Gaza City. The Economist recently published that 4-5% of Gaza’s population has been killed, and that the decrease in life expectancy in Gaza is bigger than the one recorded during China’s Great Leap Forward and on par with the Rwandan genocide.
I do not believe that saying these things out loud constitutes hate speech, and I know that I am not a threat to the Jewish community of Glencoe, Illinois. The people who actually showed up to the concert certainly had no problem sharing space and music and food together.
My FOIA request to the Village of Glencoe also included a copy of the only message that was sent from a Village official to the people who were sounding the alarm:
“Good morning, Thank you for reaching out with your feedback regarding the July 18th Glencoe Al Fresco event. Scheduled this year for July 11, 18, and 25, Glencoe Al Fresco is a collaborative community event co-hosted by the Village of Glencoe, Writers Theatre, and the Glencoe Public Library. It is an evening of food, music, and family-friendly activities designed to welcome and entertain our community. Now in its second year, it is a highly anticipated and well-attended event.
Shortly before the July 18 event began, we received email messages with concerns from a few community members regarding the band scheduled to perform that evening. As advertised, the band was set to play covers of artists such as Sade, Stevie Nicks, and The Cranberries, along with original compositions - including selections from their newly released children’s album. The performance took place on the rooftop terrace of Writers Theatre and followed the expected performance program as planned. It was a safe, low-key event with positive community engagement.
As a note, the Glencoe Council for Inclusion and Community did not participate in - nor did they have a role in planning - the July 18 event.
With every public event, our goal is to create a space where all attendees feel safe and welcome. We take your comments very seriously and appreciate that you took the time to share your concerns and perspectives.”
After reviewing the FOIA’d messages, I sent the Village communications manager an email with my narrative about what my band experienced on July 18th, extremely similar to what I wrote here in this essay. I received this message back:
“Thank you for sharing your experience. Unfortunately, it appears that there was significant miscommunication that came from Writers Theatre’s staff. Would you be willing to schedule a time to talk with you either in person or over the phone? Glencoe takes great pride in being a welcoming and inclusive community, although the events that took place on July 18 may not make it seem that way from your perspective. I think a conversation to clarify the timeline of events through Al’s performance and what did occur from a Village decision-making standpoint would be valuable and help clear the air. Please let us know if you are available early next week to talk.”
On August 20th, I finally had a Zoom meeting with the Village communications manager, the Village manager, and the director of the Writers Theatre. The Village manager explained that some significant wires had gotten crossed in our communication on July 18th. He filled me in that this group of people who complained about me had been raising hell about anything they perceive as “DEI efforts” for the last four or five years, actually, not just issues related to Palestine since October 7th, 2023. They do not stop at email complaints; they have shown up and protested and disrupted in person a number of times. He explained that they have gotten very good at being intimidating in a way that stops just short of the threshold of “threat” that is needed to remove them from public spaces. Apparently, the ringleader of this group of bullies did show up to the event in person, and he was the one who had a screaming match with the Village president, and was escorted away by the two cops that we saw a little bit later. All of that wrapped up literally right before my guitarist arrived, unbeknownst to us.
The Village manager explained that because they had so little time to respond to the complaints, were short-staffed, and did not know how much of a show of force the protesters were preparing for the night, they decided to move my performance into the Writers Theatre because it was private property, and disrupters could be asked to leave immediately without violating their rights on public land. It seemed like the quickest, simplest way to have the event go on as planned with the fewest risks to all involved. But he stressed that the Village was actually trying to support my performance, not cancel it, as I had been told. He apologized that no one from the Village had spoken to me directly the day of the event and told me that he understood why my band felt the way it did, given the information that we were told. He explained that all of these conversations had occurred over the phone between Village officials and Writers Theatre employees in a short, stressful period of time when no one from the Village was actually present on site.
I told him I appreciated the extra context. I told him that given all of the unknowns that day, moving the performance inside the theatre was not a bad solution, in hindsight. It turned out to be a lovely time. But I asked if anyone that day had considered including me and my band in the conversations figuring all of this out. We were physically present and even reaching out, offering to help problem-solve. We could have been part of the team of people talking everything through and figuring out how best to respond to all of this. We could have given input and had some sense of agency in whatever decision got made. Instead, we were completely kept in the dark until everything was already decided. This was a decision that was about us, and impacted us, but did not include us. And so we were left feeling “handled.” It was very revealing to us that we were not considered as being part of the solution. Given that we only saw those two cops when the truth was finally shared with us, we very much felt that we were seen as “the problem.”
The Village manager and Writers Theatre director agreed and apologized for not including us sooner. The Village manager said that my feedback was a good reminder to slow down during stressful times and consider what, or who, is missing, and that so often in emergencies “we confuse speed for clarity.” They reflected that it would not have taken much more than five minutes to bring my band into the loop about what had been going on and what options were being considered and just have us present for the rest of the decision-making. I agreed. I told them it probably would have made all the difference. They thanked me for my grace in sharing feedback and for my willingness to have a conversation with them, far too late, and with so much discomfort already built up. I told them that I did not envy their position having to respond to these bullies and that I wished them the best trying to find a way forward within their community.
In March of 2024, I had the opportunity to do a conflict mediation training in Northern Ireland with people who had been involved in mediations during The Troubles. Some of their mediations were between enemy paramilitary groups, often focused on short-term de-escalations to decrease civilian deaths. Some of their mediations were between ordinary people trying to navigate this entrenched sectarian conflict. But some of their mediations were to address what they called “the bullet from behind.” Sometimes, members of paramilitary groups who were willing to engage in negotiation, or who were interested in avoiding unnecessary death, or who wanted to leave the group entirely were assassinated by their own comrades. There were always factions within each side who viewed any attempt at de-escalation to be an existential threat to the cause. And they were sometimes willing to kill for it. So the people that I studied with also had engaged in mediations within paramilitary groups to de-escalate this violence of “the bullet from behind.”
On July 18th, I felt that Glencoe officials had succumbed to “the bullet from behind.” I interpreted their actions as a willingness to capitulate to bullies. The information I’d been given was that they had canceled the performance of a visibly Muslim woman because of outrage from a small but vocal group within their community. Attempts at outreach, bridge-building, diversity of thought - gone. Scrapped. Torched. Shot in the back.
After our meeting on August 20th, it feels more like Village officials succumbed to their level of preparedness. I thought about a training I recently attended about emergency response. The presenter shared that, even though individuals frequently “rise to the occasion” during times of crisis, the same is rarely true about government: “When it comes to emergency response on a city level, you don’t rise to the occasion, you fall to your level of preparedness.”
The Village and Writers Theatre staff impressed upon me that this group of bullies was an ongoing situation in their community. I expressed hope that these recent experiences would help them feel more prepared for the next conflict. They agreed. And I said that if the Village is more prepared for next time, personally that would feel like a positive outcome of everything that happened on July 18th. I think Glencoe certainly has some soul-searching to do, not just as a Village government, but as an entire community. How are they going to navigate these bullies in their midst? A quick maneuver into private property wasn’t the worst solution for one concert, but it is not a long-term solution for a group trying to bully anyone they don’t like out of public spaces and public life. Where does it end?
But throughout this entire experience, I could also recognize “the bullet from behind” within myself. I noticed the temptation to spill over with outrage and grievance every step along the way. The day of the show, some part of me wanted to throw a fit. Refuse to cooperate. Blow up in their faces. In the aftermath, particularly after hearing what happened with Al’s set, I wanted to post something inflammatory on social media, contact a journalist, show up to the next Glencoe village council meeting. Escalate. Publicize. Garner outrage. Garner support. In the lead up to the eventual meeting with Glencoe, I noticed some part of me did not want to believe that the conversation might be productive. I noticed a resistance to considering anything but my own first impressions. I didn’t want to hear anything that contradicted my experience of the night. I had thoughts like, “They’re just lying to cover their tracks, this is just damage control, why should I believe anything they say,” etc. etc. Some part of me wanted to go into the meeting with zero willingness to change my mind about anything that happened. Some part of me wanted to take the attitude, “What I say happened is what happened. What I say you did is the only truth. What I say your intentions were is the only explanation. I won’t accept anything to the contrary.” And there would be no room for the idea that some miscommunication happened. No room for the idea that there could be more to the story than the piece of it that I lived. I would have been there to shout down, not to listen.
But I told myself to beware of “the bullet from behind,” first and foremost within myself. I told myself to recognize the inner voice that resists any possibility of finding solutions, or any possibility of repair.
I frequently think about this quote from Reverend Jim Wallis, a pastor who has written extensively about challenging white Christian nationalism in America. Reverend Wallis often writes about how “there are those you must persuade and there are those you must defeat.” Defeating some people is very important. But “the bullet from behind” does not want to make any distinction between persuade and defeat - there is only defeat. It wants to stay exclusively in grievance and outrage and victimhood. It doesn’t want you to believe that anyone from “the other side” might be worth talking to, even if that talking is direct confrontation.
Because that’s the thing…if you’re coming to the table to confront and negotiate, you’re not there to be nice. You’re coming to the table to have conflict. But the hope is that the conflict is going to be productive, it’s going to lead somewhere. For as gnarly and unpleasant as it might get, the goal is to solve some of the problems at hand. Peace-making is not people-pleasing. You have to show up and have the conflict. But this kind of conflict does not always pick a winner and a loser. It’s not about defeating the enemy and walking out victorious. It’s about somehow, maybe, making things better.
For personal relationships, this approach to conflict often translates as “it’s not you versus me, it’s us versus the problem.” That’s good advice. But it feels a little too quaint for sectarian conflict and oppression. Those kinds of things always start off as “us versus them.” That’s the reality. That’s what has gone wrong. That’s the square one. There’s no denying it. What’s up for debate is how this ends.
But being wary of “the bullet from behind” is not a call to just be a centrist. Trying to find the exact middle point between two conflicting views is not always wise or strategic. You can’t actually “cut the baby in two,” as the saying goes.
(For those of you who are unfamiliar with this Old Testament reference, the story is that two women come to seek the counsel of King Solomon. They are fighting about a baby - each woman claims that the baby is hers. The king suggests that they simply cut the baby in two and give each woman half. One woman accepts this suggestion, calling it fair. The other woman, horrified, says, “Just let the other woman have the baby.” The king then decides that the second woman is the real mother of the baby, because the true mother would never be able to cut her baby in half. The king reunites the baby with its mother. I have thought of this story often when considering how Israeli settlers have been setting fire to Palestinian olive groves that have been lovingly tended by Muslim, Jewish, and Christian people alike for hundreds if not thousands of years. If you are truly kin to the land you do not destroy it, any more than a mother would cut her own baby in half.)
Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that strict centrism is not necessarily the cure for “the bullet from behind.” Not all conflicts can be solved by finding the line exactly down the middle. And once again, there are some people you cannot persuade and you simply must defeat. Usually bullies need to be defeated. And abusers. And people committing hate crimes. And genocidal maniacs. Some people just need to be stopped. Immediately. And my warning to be wary of “the bullet from behind” is not a lecture to victims that they need to be willing to negotiate with perpetrators. Truth & reconciliation is not about reconciling victim with perpetrator, it’s about reconciling injustices. Victims may need safety, protection, distance, sanctuary, and healing, before they can even think about whether they want to participate in “justice.” They may never want to. Not everyone needs to be part of finding the solution. But somebody has to be.
There is a concept in Islamic ethics called fard kifayah. It’s a category for communal obligation - in other words, actions that are not required for every single individual, but if no one steps up to do them, then the whole community has failed. Classic examples of fard kifayah are burying the dead and tending to the sick. But making peace between parties in conflict has sometimes been considered fard kifayah. So has stopping oppressors from oppressing.
Glencoe needs to figure out for themselves, “How is this going to end?”
If recent protests within Israel are any indication, more people within Israel itself are asking, “How is this going to end?”
I hope people in the U.S. see the emboldening of white Christian nationalism and the slide towards fascism and ask, “How is this going to end?”
In all situations, it’s probably going to require a combination of persuasion and defeat.
It’s going to require some people who are determined to be part of the solution.
It’s going to mean facing “the bullet from behind,” starting with our own selves.
