I study peace studies at Notre Dame. I was arrested when I called for peace in Gaza.

What does it mean to be a leading Catholic university? One that cultivates “a disciplined sensitivity to the poverty, injustice and oppression that plague the lives of so many” and seeks to create “a sense of human solidarity and concern for the common good that bears fruit when learning becomes a service to justice”? One that offers one of the world’s leading peace studies programs?

And what does it mean when this university refuses to discuss whether its investments support the killing of nearly 38,000 people in the Gaza Strip?

To an unwitting outsider, it might have looked like a delightful picnic on the campus lawn. On May 2, several students were hunched over their laptops, their class notes spread out on fluffy blankets, all preparing for final exams. A specially made banner bearing the image of two women was pinned to the side of the lawn, with the words “Nahida & Samar Lawn” written underneath – in honor of a Catholic Palestinian mother and daughter killed in Gaza.

As the students sat and chatted, a police delegation from the university arrived—five to six squad cars surrounding the courtyard. The police chief threatened they would arrest anyone who remained on the lawn after 10 p.m. The student leaders said, “We will be peaceful, but we will not leave.” When I arrived, there were nearly 50 people on the lawn, many wearing keffiyehs—not a symbol of terrorism, but of Palestinian liberation. No chants. No offensive gestures. Just students sitting in the courtyard, peacefully gathering to call on Notre Dame to divest from all weapons manufacturers—investments that violate all seven principles of Catholic social teaching. We did not want to be arrested.

We don’t know where Notre Dame has invested, but we do know that in recent years the university has expanded its research partnership with Lockheed Martin, one of the largest weapons manufacturers.

In the past, Notre Dame has reoriented its investments in accordance with the principles of Catholic social teaching and the USCCB’s investment guidelines. The school has also chosen not to allow the manufacture of its licensed products in countries that do not follow freedom of association guidelines. We believe Notre Dame has the capacity, precedent and potential to divest from all firearms manufacturers today.

A local mosque donated so many chicken sandwiches that we had almost 12 baskets left. To protect our belongings from the rain, we put up a folding roof. Ten police officers brutally ripped it open. We watched.

We received word that a dean would meet with us later. Some of the organizers met to decide how to proceed. We sat together for a few hours – students, faculty and staff of Notre Dame – in the hopeful expectation that we would commit to a good faith dialogue to ensure that our investments are consistent with the values ​​of Catholic social teaching. Such investments reflect a blatant disregard for human rights by encouraging the proliferation of weapons.

As time passed and the meeting went on, we became more nervous. This was, after all, a camp, and we were just sitting on the edge of campus – soaked, with no witnesses for the police, and at risk of arrest. But we didn’t want to leave without proving how serious we were about our commitments. So we decided to go to God Quad – the lawn in front of the Golden Dome. We didn’t chant, march with signs, or set up tents. A new police delegation arrived and said that if we didn’t leave by 9 p.m., we would be arrested.

Eventually, the administrators came and met with a team of organizers. After 20 minutes, the administrators left, having completely dismissed us. We had simply asked for a meeting to continue the dialogue about the university’s investments and reassessing its relations with Israeli universities. They refused.

Soaked and chilled by the pouring rain, 16 of us stood in a circle in front of the basilica, under the golden dome from which the Virgin Mary watches. Our Lady said in her Magnificat: “He has brought down the mighty from their thrones and lifted up the lowly. He gives gifts to the hungry and sends the rich away empty-handed.”

We were not intimidated on our own campus. Another student and I sat in a circle, armed only with cameras – I wiped the lens with my keffiyeh. Our Lady, draped in gold, looked down. A horde of eight police officers approached. “Mother Mary, pray for us now and at the hour of our death.”

After six hours of silence, only now do we join hands and begin chanting, “Free, free Palestine!” Two white students are peacefully escorted by a police officer. As they walk toward the car, one of them shouts, “It is Catholic social teaching that gets us arrested. It is following Gustavo Gutiérrez, Dorothy Day, Daniel Berrigan…” A black student is lifted up and thrown to the ground by two police officers, who quickly handcuff him. One officer slams his full weight knee into his back. This pattern continues. A third officer nails his left knee into his legs. My hands shake, tears stream down my face as I film up close my friends being arrested. I brace myself for the same treatment. I look up at Our Gilded Lady. She is watching.

Two more police officers arrive and try to subdue another student. She is sitting down, they lay out a tarp that looks like a body bag. A male police officer grabs her left arm and the female police officer lifts her feet. Four police officers carry her on the bag to the van. Another student is thrown onto her stomach by two police officers while they forcibly handcuff her. Eventually she is lifted up and escorted away. I hear the police officers complaining that they are running out of handcuffs. A few police officers come back and we chant, “No justice, no peace!”

A student kneels as an officer grabs his left arm; another officer extends his right arm and handcuffs him. A third officer cuffs the student’s legs. A tarp rips as they try to load him inside. They try to lift him up, but as they approach the police car, they have to drag his body along the ground. I think of Christ being dragged through the streets with his cross. My eyes wander from the inhumane treatment of my new friends to Our Lady, glittering above us. She is watching us.

Then they come to get me. I brace myself to be thrown to the ground like so many others, knees in my back and yelled at. They take me without violence. I feel guilty. We were all arrested and taken to the cells under the football stadium. The 17th arrested, a black student who was not part of the circle, was arrested for staying on God Quad to film our brutal treatment.

Pope Francis has been emphasizing a “path to peace” since Oct. 7, when Hamas killed 1,200 Israelis and took over 240 hostages. The U.S. Conference of Catholic Bishops states, “The Gospel calls us to be peacemakers. Our love for all our sisters and brothers demands that we promote peace in a world surrounded by violence and conflict.” Our role as Catholic individuals and as a Catholic institution is to embody Catholic social teaching by opposing war so that the heart of the Gospel can continue to pump life into the Body of Christ, the Church.

The USCCB’s principle of “doing no harm” calls on Catholic institutions to refuse to invest in – and to divest from – companies that run counter to Catholic teaching. As critical-thinking, self-reflective scholars, we knew that investing in weapons manufacturers was harmful and completely contrary to Catholic teaching. Therefore, we firmly believe that Notre Dame must not invest in these companies.

Of all the places God created, he became man about 70 kilometers from Gaza. Our university is named after the holy woman who gave birth to the Prince of Peace, the God who became man, who traversed Roman-occupied Palestine with the most ostracized members of society. He was brutally tortured and crucified because his loving, peaceful acts protested against the unjust treatment of others.

Our university is named after the mother of the very divine man who, according to the Gospel of Matthew, said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” How can our university claim to believe these things when it does business with companies that are involved in the murder of over 14,500 children in Gaza?

In accordance with Catholic teaching and the Catholic tradition of peace, we recognize that violence in the form of war is a direct denial of basic rights and a grave attack on humanity. Furthermore, Catholic social teaching emphasizes the importance of solidarity and the interconnectedness of humanity. Supporting industries that profit from war can hinder efforts at global solidarity and cooperation, as it puts profit ahead of the common good and the well-being of individuals.

So what does it mean to be a morally engaged student at a leading Catholic university when that university, which is home to one of the world’s leading peace studies programs, is unwilling to talk about whether it also invests in weapons manufacturers? It means seeking solidarity when injustice makes studying for final exams insurmountable. It means not seeking arrest and getting arrested anyway. It means praying, praising, communicating, and, in our collective case, “developing a sense of human solidarity and concern for the common good that will bear fruit when learning becomes a service to justice.”