فلَسطينيّة
FALASTINIYEH
photography by tariq alobaid
It’s been a long journey, and it is not over. It’s taken me a while to understand what it is to be Palestinian. To understand the history, the heartache, and the future. It wasn’t long ago that I have accepted that my identity is something I need to hold on to more. Now more than ever before. That some people want to take it away from me. My own freedom depends on fighting for Palestine. My people’s freedom also depends on how I fight for Palestine. I questioned how I present myself, every day. I tried to understand the Palestinian do’s and dont’s. When I should be a little louder and when I should play it safe.
But then I decided everything I do will eventually contribute to my cause. So, I got loud. Very loud. The dont’s don’t help. I stopped being afraid. I stopped accepting defeat. And I stopped accepting less than the spaces I deserve. I started writing. I started believing that I am moving toward freedom. And I embraced all of what the freedom of Palestine means. It means to hurt. It means to be empathetic. It means to continue what my ancestors fought for. And it means to never give up. As an educator, it means to teach. It means to believe in the generations to come. As a poet, it means to write. It means to be real and to be vulnerable. And as a woman, it means to never be afraid, to endlessly love who I am, and to give love wherever I go.
To be Palestinian also means to live like any other, even it is heart-wrenching sometimes. To wake up every day and breathe in the nature that surrounds me. To bask in the sun before starting my day. To sometimes embrace the cold. To eat zaatar and savor its simplicity. To peel an orange or spit out an olive seed at breakfast. To call my family and feel their love. To study. To work. To laugh. To cry. To love. To hate. To go through the rest of the motions. And to thank God for life as the day ends and the next one begins. I owe it to my home to do all of that. I owe it to Palestine. To rise when I fall. To slow down when I go too fast. To be a human living in dignity. And to be me: a Palestinian woman. فلَسطينيّة.
الكتابة/العلم/الفلَسطينيّة
writing/education/the palestinian woman
الكتابة / writing
I write to express. I write to feel. I write to understand. I am the woman I am because of the words I write. I am the Palestinian that I am because of the words I write. I share to let my people know they are not alone. That we all stand behind each other. Our people are all writers. Some write down our histories into the books. And the others write the story of freedom in the pages of the history we are reclaiming for ourselves.
العلم / education
They stole our land, but mama told me that the only thing no one can steal from us is our education. So I believed in the power of knowledge. Knowledge will free us and it will free Palestine. After all, there is nothing more powerful than the truth; it will prevail. And there is also nothing more powerful than teaching that truth. I teach the language that enabled me to be who I am. I teach what people need to grow, just like I am growing right now. My ancestors found refuge and safety in knowledge, and so do I.
الفلَسطينيّة / the palestinian woman
Palestinian women carry the world on their backs, to every far end of the earth, and they will bring all of it back home to Palestine. I am a descendant of these women. My mother. My grandmothers. And my great-grandmothers. They all did what they had to do. And they did it with love, bravery, power, beauty, resilience, and so, so much more. I follow in their footsteps and teach the same to my daughter. My granddaughter. And my great-granddaughter. They will do the same. No, the young do not forget.