Words from a Music Show Event in Bellingham from Friday, July 25, 2025
This a video from a recent event in my community where I was given a chance to speak briefly about Palestine, and about the fundraising and awareness building events I have been involved with on behalf and in support of families in Gaza. (The sound quality of the video improves part way through, and you can also enable captions on the video.)
"Let Palestine be present everywhere and in the heart of every person and remembered on the tongue of every lover of us. So let Palestine be the talk of everyone.”
From the River to the Sea, Palestine Will Be Free.
Palestine has beenrenowned for years as having one of the highest literacy rates in the world, and as being a place where education and reading are valued, supported, and highly esteemed. Education is integrated into Palestinian culture, heritage, and identity. Which is why Israel (with the support of the United States government) has always targeted it.
The targeting and destruction of libraries in Gaza, and the violent attacks and killings of library employees is something that should demand the attention and solidarity of every library worker and library professional in the world. Literature, books, writing, and libraries are important features of Palestinian life and culture, and I have heard many stories and seen many photos of friends in Gaza who tried desperately to rescue their books from the rubble of their homes, their schools, and the bombed library buildings.
I have also seen Palestinians resorting to burning books for fuel to survive during the harsh winter or for cooking, because of Israel's continued illegal blockade, which is currently still in place, as the genocide expands its reach, and as Israel and the U.S. continue to violently assault and kill Palestinians in Gaza using every possible means and method to cause suffering, harm, psychological distress, and death.
All of this has deeply affected the way I feel about my personal library, as well as feelings I have about my own profession as a library worker here in the U.S.
On Saturday, August 2, 2025 I will be hosting a "Bookshare & Give-Away" fundraising event at the Bellingham Public Library. Books and other media will be available to be shared and given away as encouragement to those who will make donations to families in Gaza. Stop by and browse an assortment of books and other media donated by local community members and free for the community, in exchange for donations to support Palestinian families in Gaza, and in homage to those whose libraries and book collections have been targeted and destroyed by Israel.
I will be bringing in the bulk of my own personal library, which I have built over the past 25 years, in the hopes of turning something I once loved into support for people who I now love even more.
This event is affiliated with the Whatcom Coalition for Palestine, the Whatcom Families for Justice in Palestine, and the "Eight Families in Gaza: Amplifying Their Voices" public presentation and community support effort. (This event is not sponsored by the Bellingham Public Library).
Today was a hard and heavy day. I try to not let myself sit silently beneath the weight of the heaviness for too long, always mindful of those who are suffering and for whom every effort and every moment is a battle for survival, mindful of those to whom I owe everything.
I have been thinking today about how in Gaza they are running out of room not just for the living, but also for the dead. I have been thinking about the 66 (known) infants and children who have been murdered through forced starvation. About how baby formula has been blocked by Israel and the U.S. from entering into Gaza, how it is even confiscated from the suitcases of medical workers trying to smuggle in just a few cans to share during the limited time they will spend trying to help at the hospitals and clinics, many which are no longer even in buildings but only in makeshift tents. And about how these clinics and hospitals and tents, what few remain, have also become places where people go to die in pain because there is no longer enough medication, no supplies, not even any gauze or saline, and fuel is running out. I've been thinking about how no place is safe, whether it is a place intended for healing that has become a place for dying, or whether it is a place meant to give shelter but cannot offer any protection.
A close friend in Gaza once said to me that this genocidal war is "a war on every front"–there's nothing left unscathed, no part of their lives untouched–it is a war on food and shelter, health and medical treatment, land and agriculture, nature, animals, and pets, babies and children, men and women, the young and the old, and everyone in between. It is a war on their social fabric and institutions, infrastructure and security, routines and stability, the past and the future. It is a war on hearts and minds, on bodies and spirits. It is a war on banks, stores, water, money, computers, phones, communications, schools, libraries, leisure, freedom–and even on time itself. It is a war on everything. Nothing escapes. I challenge you to try and think of a single thing that isn’t under attack in Gaza. I have yet to find one.
As I listen to people in my physical proximity, at my workplace and elsewhere, complain about mundane things of no real consequence, especially when juxtaposed against the reality of those for whom every moment is one between life and death, I am overcome with weariness, impatience, frustration, and yes, anger. How I long for a future when everyone can be concerned with mundane, ordinary, even petty things. When such things can take our time and attention. But it is hard for me to take much care for what feels self-indulgent and superficial at this time.
Yes, today is a hard and heavy day. Another friend wrote this morning about how this day is the eleven year anniversary of the deaths of half a dozen members of his family, massacred in their home as they were spending time together enjoying each other's company. And I’ve been thinking about this, about how my friend has had to finish growing up without his father, how he took on the responsibilities of becoming a provider for his mother and younger siblings from an early age, and how he is still fighting for their survival even now, while he experiences constant grief and loss, as more loved ones are cruelly murdered every day.
Today is also the anniversary of the death of Ghassan Kanafani, who was assassinated by Israel on July 8, 1972. In her piece “We Knocked Until Our Hands Broke,” originally published in May 2025 but shared again online today, the brilliant Palestinian writer Alaa Alqaisi expresses how “abandonment is not an accident — it is a decision.”
As with anything Alaa Alqaisi writes, after I read it the first time, I kept returning to it, finding and feeling more each time, as there are layers that build upon each other with each new feeling and each added understanding. I have read it six times just today, and I cannot stop thinking about it. I brought her words to work with me, in my heart and in my head. And then I also read an even more recent piece of hers called "The Double Life of a Palestinian Translator,” where she writes:
"The world will always choose familiar narratives that preserve its sense of stability rather than those that unsettle it with the full force of disruption. And so, translation becomes not only a necessity but an ethical battle: to find a language that resists both disappearance and domestication, allowing pain to remain unfiltered while still ensuring it crosses the linguistic checkpoints that decide which suffering is acknowledged, and which is discarded."
Which suffering is acknowledged. And which is discarded. I have been struggling with this myself. Confused by this dynamic, by my inability to understand why there is this disparity. I encounter this discarded suffering daily in academic spaces here in the United States, spaces filled with people who seem more committed to constructing and maintaining the illusion that the genocide in Palestine is somehow not part of us, not something we should be working to stop, let alone acknowledge.
Perhaps people are afraid to see, to acknowledge, to recognize because then it would mean they would have to act, they would have to take ownership, they would have to accept their personal responsibility. Whereas if they can keep pretending they somehow don't really know or understand, then maybe they believe they are somehow absolved? But they are not. And what a terrible soul-destroying lie this is. There is no absolution to be found in intentional retreat. In feigning ignorance. In masquerading behind self-indulgence as though it is a virtue. Abandonment is not an accident, it is a decision.
I am grateful to the writers, to the translators, to the poets and the teachers. To all my friends in Palestine. To Alaa Alqaisi who writes:
"And if the stories I carry are not always welcomed—if they are met with indifference or rejection—I will still carry them, because their very telling is resistance. Because to name the dead is to resist their disappearance. Because to write a sentence about Gaza in English is to defy the architectures of global indifference."
This special presentation, developed in collaboration with eight families in Gaza & presented by a local community member (Clarissa Mansfield) who is personally connected to them, offers a chance to learn about the lives, loves, and challenges of these families as they try to survive the genocide. Join us to learn more about them, and about how you can give meaningful & direct support to Palestinians in Gaza.
DATE / TIME: Thursday, July 3, 2025 / 7pm - 8:30pm
Whatcom Peace & Justice Center - 1220 Bay Street, Bellingham, WA
This past week I had the honor of being interviewed by the talented and generous writer Lama Obeid. Lama asked me thoughtful questions, questions that made me think and reflect, questions I am still pondering today. My gratitude to Lama for sharing with me her time, her kindness, and her insightful questions that created the space for this conversation. I appreciate her so much. (You can listen to the complete interview on her Substack site).
One theme that surfaced repeatedly was related to thinking about how people are responding, questioning, communicating, and acting when it comes to Palestine–what I and other people are doing (or not doing), in response to the accelerated genocide. And of course, being based in the United States, my answers generally included my personal reflections upon the influence of our dominant culture and institutional structures.
Today I’ve been thinking a lot about the people I meet in my local community, the ones I encounter, talk to, and sometimes work alongside. I wonder why some are moved to act, others to ignore, and yet others let despair immobilize them completely. As we see what is being done to Palestinians by the country we live in, as we recognize how our comfort comes at the expense of someone else’s suffering, and as we contemplate the gargantuan size of the systems that oppress us– the corruption in our governments, the vast inequities in power– as we see the people in Palestine being starved, terrorized, and killed while we also feel the pain of not yet having been able to stop this, I understand why some may feel helpless. I understand having moments where hopelessness may overwhelm us, I truly do. Hopelessness, grief, despair. I feel these things too.
But I strongly believe we cannot let that be the place where we stay. We have a duty and a responsibility to not let these feelings, no matter how powerful they may feel, prevent us from doing what is necessary, required, and needed. I often think of Rasha Abdulhadi’swords: "For those of us not currently being bombed, for those of us whose taxes & daily purchases pay for genocide: Despair is far too expensive a luxury. We have already bankrolled too much horror. Let us save time, save our spirits, and act now to get in the way."
I have thought for a long time about trying to write something about barriers to action, barriers that cause people to retreat and look away, to ignore or hide. I would like to write something that could help break down those barriers, and offer an attempt to help more people find their pathways into action. I am still thinking about this now. But I have more thoughts in my jumbled heart and mind than I know how to effectively communicate at this time.
I regularly write and send email updates to an ever-growing list of people with whom I’ve been trying to raise more support--people from within my own life who may live anywhere, but also primarily people from my local community. In the most recent update, which I shared late last night, I wrote about the families who I am most committed to trying to support. I wrote about how they are struggling. How they are exhausted beyond words, fatigued, malnourished, and losing more loved ones to violence every day.
The truth is, all Palestinians in Gaza are struggling. They have already been forced to endure so much, and they don’t really have more in reserve to draw from in terms of strength or capacity. They are continuing to lose weight, and their bodies are very very weak. I wrote about how there has been an increase in the daily massacres of Palestinians trying to find food at the American GHF centers, as Palestinians are attacked by quadcopters, missiles, tanks, and gunfire while they try to obtain flour or a small box of food.
Every family I spoke with this week has recently risked their lives in pursuit of the so-called “aid,” not because they don’t know the risks, but because they do not feel they have a choice. Several families lost loved ones and family members who were martyred after being shot by the American mercenaries while they waited for food. One family has a relative who went in search of aid and never returned, a scenario which is also becoming very common. Several of the primary contacts for the families themselves had very close calls when they attempted to get food and faced a barrage of bullets and gunfire.
I feel it needs to be clearly stated that American soldiers and American mercenaries are the people killing hungry starving Palestinians– hungry starving men women and children–as they try to find food to keep themselves and their families alive. This is happening every single day. And our country is responsible for it. Which means those of us who are living in this country must do more to end this, while also doing all we can to help those who are trying to survive stay alive.
For the families I am closest to, this week was marked by many consolation services and funerals for killed friends and relatives. And this while the families continue to be starved and forced to experience extreme hunger, as they struggle to afford anything to eat. On average right now, each family needs to receive at least $150 in donations per day at minimum, and that is not an amount we have been able to reach as of yet.
I recently updated my Linktr.ee, and in addition to the links to various fundraising campaigns you can find on the right side of this site, there are also fundraisers listed and linked from the link tree, including the links for the eight families who are featured in the local “Eight Families in Gaza: Amplifying Their Voices”presentations. Likewise, all of the other campaigns I link to belong to people I know personally, people I speak with often, people I am trying to support how I can.
I have recently been quoting the words from a Palestinian man in Gaza named Samer, sharing (with his permission) an excerpt of something he posted online:
“So please, please, please, especially in these days — don’t abandon us. We are facing the worst genocide, the harshest famine, and the vilest enemy on the face of the earth and in all of history. We will keep reminding, speaking, and crying out — for you, about you, and with you — until no one is left alone to face starvation. Until no child goes hungry. Until no father collapses. Until no mother is let down. To anyone reading these words: Whatever you can do — do it now. It may not save the whole world, but it could save a family. And right now, saving a family means saving an entire world.”
If you are feeling hopeless, I hope you will channel that emotion into action, actions that will make a positive impact. Actions that will help keep people alive. It is the least we can do to support the people to whom we owe everything.
The academic year for the university where I work is drawing to a close, and I have been thinking about the students in Gaza. And I have been reflecting on where things were a year ago at this time, and how much worse they have become since then.
Every day I speak with students and educators in Gaza who are doing their best to survive the genocide, the unrelenting violence, and the famine, all while still holding on to their dreams. And I wonder what it will finally take to end this.
I have asked before and I ask again now, what would happen if university and college presidents came out publicly, as leaders of their institutions, against the genocide? What if they made statements in solidarity with their Palestinian peers and colleagues? Would that have an effect?
Sometimes we say words are just words without actions to back them up, that words on their own are not enough to change anything if they don't have something behind them. And yet, people can be so afraid of words that they try to suppress them, so there must be some power there.
And who gets to speak, who gets to be heard, and what power is associated with someone's words is often dependent on their position, and the positions of power they hold. I can't help but think the weight of the words of a university president speaking out against the genocide of the Palestinian people would make an impact, would make the news, would inspire others, and would attract students who want to go to a university whose leadership is unafraid to speak out and do what is right.
Maybe you are reading this and you think you are "just" an ordinary person. And maybe you are reading this and you are not a university president, as is likely the case since I am not a wealthy donor, nor am I a Board of Trustees member, so it is very unlikely any university president would be interested in what I am writing here. But I will write it anyway, and I will add that none of us are ordinary, and everyone has some power, whatever that might look like, however that might be. The thing is to recognize what yours is and find a way to use your voice, in every space and every room, to keep trying to find new ways to do new things until we can finally stop this.
While my heart is with Palestine and with all Palestinians, especially with those I have grown closest to in Gaza, I also have the deepest love for and solidarity with the educators, school staff members, students, librarians, archivists, teachers, writers, and translators in Gaza, those who are my peers and who deserve so much more than what they have received from their professional colleagues. And there is so much more we could and should be doing. I will keep trying, and I hope you will too.
SATURDAY, MAY 31, 2025 / 2-3pm (presentation) / 3-3:30pm (Q &A) / Bellingham Central Library Downstairs Lecture Room (This program isnot sponsored by the Bellingham Public Library, and is offered in affiliation with the Whatcom Coalition for Justice in Palestine).
Friday, 5/30/2025 at WWU in Miller Hall 138 at 4pm / Event Description:
Developed in collaboration with members of the featured families, “Eight Families in Gaza: Amplifying Their Voices,” offers attendees a chance to learn about the lives, loves, and challenges of eight specific families in Gaza as they try to survive the ongoing genocide.
WWU alum and classified staff member Clarissa Mansfield will also speak about the relationship between disability justice and Palestinian liberation, as well as the responsibility of students and educators in the U.S. to oppose the scholasticide being inflicted upon our Palestinian peers and colleagues. After the presentation there will be time for a Q&A.
Monday, May 19, 2025
Last week on the 77th anniversary of the Nakba, Israel began an intensification of its violent assault on the people of Gaza with attacks from land, air, and sea, with support and weaponry supplied by the U.S. government, sending more shells, drone missiles, bombs, and fire to kill Palestinians in hospitals, school shelters, tents, markets, and streets.
Since then, this intensification has only worsened every passing day and night, becoming more murderous, terrifying, and brutal. Israel has continued to target hospitals, including one that could offer treatment to cancer patients.
Israeli forces also continue to terrorize Palestinians in Gaza by dropping threatening leaflets from the sky, issuing so-called "evacuation orders" which force Palestinians to flee amidst the bombs with no safe place to go.
The women, men, children, who are not killed but are left trapped beneath the rubble, or who are rescued but left hurt and wounded, burned and besieged, starved and sickened, can not be given adequate treatment for burns or pain relief for their suffering, cannot rest or breathe or heal, cannot be granted any comfort or assurance of even one moment of safety because of Israel's constant violent bombardment and genocidal attacks. Israeli forces also continue to destroy any kind of construction or rescue equipment, as they also bomb and destroy whatever small food stores are left, while extending their illegal blockade to prevent food, medicine, water, and fuel from entering into Gaza.
How many times will I say that conditions are worse than they have ever been? How can each day and night, which are the worst possible days and nights, somehow be even worse than the preceding ones? And how many times will I have cause to wonder this? There must be an end, somehow, someway.
Israel has also launched what they are calling “Gideon’s Chariots,” formalizing their blueprint for permanent occupation, mass displacement, and expansion of genocidal violence. While this has been referred to in some media sources as the Israeli government declaring it is launching a "major ground offensive," there is no "offensive." This is a violent intensification and acceleration of genocidal violence unleashed upon families who are already traumatized, starving, and suffering and who are trying to survive.
Unleashed upon families. Fathers, mothers, children. Siblings, grandparents, aunts and uncles. Cousins, friends, husbands and wives. People who just want a chance to live their lives.
Israel is violating international law, acting with impunity, and showing no indications they intend to stop. And Israel and the U.S. are also planning to further weaponize food and food distribution, effectively establishing concentration camps with the help of American mercenaries. This should be receiving more scrutiny and attention, especially from Americans, but so far it has not. And Israel's recent announcement about allowing in a mere nine trucks of so-called "aid" is merely a mocking and disdainful nod towards the increasing number of people throughout the world who have been protesting these past several days who want Israel to stop starving and killing Palestinians.
These past five days have been hell-like for Palestinians in Gaza and only continues to worsen. One of my friends sent me a video and voice note recordings of shelling and gunfire from the helicopters hovering above his tent on Sunday. The video and sounds were enough to make my heart skip and my body to shudder, from the safety of my home, a 10 second clip--what must it be to be living through this, and for this to be only one threat, only one source of fear, one cause of anxiety among so many, too many to count?
Everyone I talk to in Gaza is trying, trying so hard to keep going, to be ok. They are doing everything they can to take care of their loved ones, to be strong for each other. But there is a weariness, a fatigue, an exhaustion steeped in trauma, devastation, and starvation, compounded by being immersed in constant loss while also surrounded by an abundance of violent death.
It is too much to bear.
We need to keep doing what we are doing to end the genocide and the occupation, while we also continue to find new ways to stop it. We must keep giving all we can to help those who are trying to survive. I do not know how much longer we can continue like this, how much longer anyone can. But I feel strongly that time is not something we can spare. There is an urgency required of us if we are to adequately meet this moment.
One thing I am hoping more people are beginning to understand, one thing that I am trying to show with the presentations I have been giving, is that this is not something happening separately from us. The Palestinian people in Gaza are connected to us. And the people in the U.S. are connected to them. And this country is also the country that is enabling and supporting this genocide.
What is happening to Palestine, what our country is doing, is also connected to what is happening here. And it is connected to the trajectory this country has been on for a very long time. And if we cannot somehow stop the normalization of intentionally using mass starvation, torture, and violence as means of asserting control and maintaining power, then there isn't much hope for any of us. And perhaps, there shouldn't be.
So again I request that you please do what you can, today, now, this moment to help. Send whatever support you can send to Palestinians in Gaza. Direct aid from us in terms of the funds we are raising right now is the only thing that is helping. And listen and respond to what Palestinians are saying. Prioritize hearing their voices above the voices of others. And then talk to everyone in your life about this. Push back against the lies, the normalization, the silences. Bring this with you to every moment. Take whatever action you can take. Take up space. Take up room. Take up air time. Do whatever you can do. Nothing we have done so far has been enough. So we must keep trying.
It has been two full months since Israel began its illegal, immoral, genocidal blockade, banning anything but weapons, bombs and death from entering into Gaza. No food, medicine, fuel, clothing, building materials–no anything. Nothing required for anyone or anything to survive in Gaza.
This is the longest complete and total blockade Israel has ever inflicted upon Gaza, and famine is no longer “looming,” it has arrived. And not because of some kind of uncontrollable “natural” disaster–this is entirely human made and human-supported, created by Israel, and enabled by the U.S. Children are dying from malnutrition, and everyone is sick. The World Food Program has run out of food, and prices for what little food remains in Gaza have skyrocketed. What flour there is left is exorbitantly expensive and rancid.
In the midst of all of this, Israel has intensified its campaign of mass murder, targeting Palestinians in every place and during every time– while they are trying to sleep in tents or shelters, when they are trying to receive medical treatment for their illness, while they are trying to get water, when they are searching for food, collecting firewood, or sitting with friends and trying to find a moment of joy amidst so much violence. Even children playing with other children in what used to be a street are targeted. It does not matter when or where. It could be bombs, drones, snipers, shelling, or fire. It could be men, women, children, and pets. It could be journalists, doctors and nurses, teachers, or mother and fathers--it does not matter who they are, what they are doing, or where they are. Israel has dropped all pretext of needing to make up their flimsy excuses–they just kill and harm whenever and wherever in Gaza they want to. They target men, women, and children in broad daylight or under the cover of darkness, ensuring no place is safe, and there is no rest for the weary and traumatized.
What more is there to say to compel the world to act? To get more people in this country to care? To make this a priority? Americans turn out in the streets on the weekends to "resist" the growing fascism of this country, something that unfortunately was not resisted en masse while its roots were clearly growing long before Trump was president. And most often, missing from these laments and demonstrations, is anything about Gaza or Palestine, unless a few of us who are not ‘indivisible’ decide to make our presence visible.
Labor unions can hold May Day rallies so unions can ask for higher pay for their members, but there is no talk of withholding our labor to end a genocidal assault of forced starvation and mass murder, funded and enabled by this country. What is there left to say? We are running out of time and more Americans need to care. And while I know many do, we still need more. And we need to back up that care with action.
And if you are looking for something you can do, right now, that will help, here are two small things. Much more is needed, but at the very least, please do this:
And contact your representative to demand they act to force Israel to end the blockade. (I will be honest, I don’t have that much faith in our current political systems, or the people in power who are supposed to represent us. But it is one thing that more people could easily do, and we should be doing everything we can think of and more right now.)
This is not getting better. It is not getting easier. As I was writing these words, the news broke of the drone attack on the Freedom Flotilla in international waters off the coast of Malta. Efforts to save the lives of Palestinians are being met with more violence and attacks. The U.S. keeps bombing Yemen for daring to defend Palestine. And campus protests are being met with more repression and police brutality. What does this tell you about the current state of the world? And how long can we continue like this?
This past Saturday, April 12, the Whatcom Coalition for Palestine hosted another public program featuring “Eight Families in Gaza: Amplifying Their Voices,” the presentation I created in collaboration with members of the featured families, who generously shared their words, their photos, their writing, and their voices with us. My hope was to bring the families closer to my local community, to raise more support for them, and also to raise more awareness about the dangerous and dire conditions Palestinians in Gaza are being forced to endure and are trying to survive. I also hoped that people would be personally affected, and compelled to take actions to end the genocide.
Every time I give this presentation, I am also deeply affected. I have the deepest respect for these families, and feel that it is both an honor and a privilege to be able to speak and share about them. Words are mainly what I have to offer and to give. So I am using them in writing, in speaking, wherever I can. And I know that words on their own are not enough. But I hope that words will be a pathway to more--more connection, more support, more action, more awareness, more change. We need more of all of these things.
After the presentation, about half of us stuck around to meet with coalition members, to process and talk and plan, and it was during that part of the event when I received a message from one of my friends in Gaza who had just woken in terror to the sound of nearby bombing, when the only remaining hospital in the north was attacked and destroyed by Israeli Forces, leaving patients with no safety, shelter, or medical care, as sick, wounded, and severely ill people were forced to flee into the dangerous streets. Israeli forces have been systematically and intentionally destroying all healthcare facilities, blocking all access to medical supplies, while also targeting, killing, and capturing healthcare workers, and creating conditions intended to inflict more pain, suffering, and death.
Last week, another friend of mine was trying to secure medical treatment for his parents who are ill because of the harsh living conditions and lack of clean water and food, and the clinic they were going to enter was bombed right before they arrived. Had they been moments earlier, they would not have survived.
Meanwhile, the health crisis is growing increasingly serious with every passing moment. Israel's systematic attacks on the water infrastructure in order to destroy the water supply, while also using food and starvation as a weapon, continues unabated. Israel, and the United States are committing Crimes Against Humanity, genocide, violating all international laws, and engaging in violent acts of brutality that defy comprehension. And so far, nothing has been able to stop this.
Palestinians in Gaza are exhausted, fatigued, and starving. Everyone I talk to has lost weight, some of them have lost a dangerous amount. Everyone is sick with severe stomach pain and headaches. And the bombing, shelling, and drone targeting increases every night. The only thing helping people survive right now is the support they are receiving from those of us outside of Gaza who are sending them what we can, while we also try as hard as we can to end this.
This past Saturday, I was thinking a lot about words and actions, about how things are shared, about the power and shortcomings of language. I posted on Twitter that I needed new words.I was sharing Moayed Harazen'spost, as he was describing the water crisis, and I wrote:
“Just as starvation is used as a weapon, water & sources of water are also targeted & destroyed. I need different words to convey the seriousness of this. ‘Urgent,’ ‘critical,’ ‘emergency,’ ‘crisis’--these words are not enough. What words will finally compel the world to act?”
I keep thinking about how we do not know what it will be that will finally end this, which means we must keep trying anything and everything we can think of, while also thinking of new things to try. And while we are doing that, we absolutely must give as much support as possible to those who are trying to survive. This is more than critical and urgent--I do not have the words to describe how important this is.
Information About Donating:
You can find a list of links on the right side of this blog site where you can make direct donations to the families' campaigns online. And the eight families I have been trying to introduce to our local community are among them. And you can also find the links to the pages for the eight families on the Whatcom Families for Justice in Palestine linktr.ee.
If you would prefer to give me your contribution so that I can distribute your donation myself, that also works and I am happy to do that. I have been accepting checks, cash, and payments via Zelle–whatever is easiest. Please feel free to reach out to me via email at clarissjanae@gmail.com and we can make arrangements.
During the public presentations, "EightFamilies in Gaza: Amplifying Their Voices," which I have been giving in my local community these past couple of months, I have begun by talking a little bit about the connection and intersection between Disability Justice and Palestinian Justice. I talk about mutual aid, collective liberation, the framework for disability justice, and how all of this has been part of my connection to Palestine.
This week, on April 15, 2025 at 8 a.m. PST there is an online event, "Disability Justice in Palestine: Taking Action," organized by The Palestinian Disability Coalition, which includes members from "organizations of persons with disabilities, self-help groups, and activists with disabilities from all parts of Occupied Palestine, and also theDisability Justice for Palestine Collective, which is made up of disabled people, "researchers, human rights activists and advocates from all over the world working together to document the situation of Palestinians with disabilities and the crimes being committed against them, and advocating for justice and accountability."
[Image Description: ONLINE EVENT: DISABILITY JUSTICE FOR PALESTINE: Taking action
APRIL15-11h EST/18h Palestine /Palestinian refugees with disabilities will join from Gaza, the West Bank and other locations to tell us what is happening to their communities in occupied Palestine. Join us, listen to their testimonies, and help us spread their voice! Register: https://bit.ly/DJPTA
Organized by THE DISABILITY JUSTICE FOR PALESTINE COALITION and THE PALESTINIAN DISABILITY COALITION / With support from WOMEN ENABLED INTERNATIONAL / ASL & IS interpretation and CART transcription into Arabic & English will be provided.]
Of Births & Deaths - My birthday was one week ago last Monday on March 24. It was a landmark birthday, a birthday of deep reflection. I had the day off from work and I asked anyone who wanted to celebrate with me to please donate to my friends in Gaza. I did not get much sleep the night before, up too late, too worried, too much happening. After answering my morning messages from friends in Gaza, I tried to rest for a couple of hours. When I awoke and checked my phone, it was only to learn about the targeted killing and murder of beloved journalist, beloved son of Beit Hanoun, Hossam Shabat. Another journalist assassinated, another strong voice targeted, another beloved Palestinian gone, taken through extreme cruelty, brutality, and violence.
The shock, the grief, the overwhelming emotion felt and expressed by so many filled the day. I thought about the ways in which compounded grief can build and consume, triggering more memories of other losses, releasing unprocessed and ongoing traumas, and causing buried emotions to resurface as though the wounds are still new and fresh.
My birthday was a day of sadness, mourning, and grief. And it was also a day of deep appreciation and profound gratitude. I spent the day trying to raise more support for fundraisers to support families in Gaza, and I also received the most thoughtful and generous messages, photos, wishes and greetings from friends in Gaza, and from allies around the world. Messages, photos, words that touched my heart and soul on the deepest possible level. And I thought about how strange it is this world can simultaneously hold such contradictions and oppositions. How can it be a home to people who are so generous, so thoughtful, so kind and loving, and at the same time there exists people who are capable of committing and supporting horrific violence and cruelty?
My birthday wish last Monday is one that I still have today: it is for us to do everything we can to support the people in Gaza who are trying survive, as we also do anything & everything to end the genocide & the occupation. May Palestine be free. May all oppressed people everywhere be free. May there be justice. May this world be transformed.
Every moment that passes and we are not able to stop this, we lose more loved ones, more lives, more universes, more possibilities of promising futures. And these losses are not just devastating to us and to the world, they are compounded by more trauma and grief. Immeasurable losses. Bottomless caverns of grief.
Everything was already urgent and dangerous because of Israel’s most recent illegal blockade that began on March 2, which cut off access to food, water, medicine, fuel, and urgently needed supplies of every kind. Despair was already widespread and life was already too hard. But with the return of the extreme violence and bombing, everyone is now also back to living in constant fear and danger, while also trying to survive the harshest and most extreme living conditions.
People are back to trying to soothe their children and babies who cry as the bombs fall. Back to trying to dig out their friends and families from beneath the rubble of what collapsed structures remain with their bare hands. Back to not sleeping, not being able to rest, never being able to relax. Back to daily near-death experiences while also mourning the loss of more loved ones and wondering who will be next.
There are not enough hospitals or medical staff to help the sick and wounded, and what there is are not easily accessible, not stocked, and staffed by medical workers who are also severely fatigued and traumatized. Food supplies are running low and the violence only worsens. The World Food Program has warned that backstock of any remaining food supplies will run out in a little over a week. Today bakeries in Gaza are announcing their closures due to lack of flour. Hunger and malnutrition are causing serious health problems, and the constant stress from living in extreme danger is taking a toll on people's hearts, minds, and physical bodies. We are running out of time, time we already did not have.
Yesterday I wrote and posted an update to the fundraiser page for my friends Yanis and his wife and their sweet son Mahdi. In it I explained that despite the constant danger and harsh living conditions:
"Yanis and his family are doing everything they can to take care of each other, to survive, to find and create moments of relief and joy in the midst of the suffering. Today is Eid, and many in Gaza have been calling it the 'Eid of sadness.' Yanis and his wife have tried to make it special for their sweet son Mahdi, but there is a heaviness in their hearts as many children were targeted and massacred by Israeli forces this morning.
The grief is immeasurable, and for parents especially, their grief is accompanied by a fear and worry of what will happen next, and how they can provide protection for their children when everything is out of their control, and people are targeted no matter where they are. Yanis and his family had a very frightening experience just yesterday when the tent next to theirs was bombed, and as Yanis explained, 'Death and I are neighbors.' The reality is, there is no safe place in Gaza."
Everything we do matters, and nothing we have done has been enough. We must keep doing all we can to support the people trying to survive, while also doing everything we can to end this. I don't know what it will finally take. I don't know that anyone does. But the more of us who are trying, the closer we are to finding out.
We must do more, and we must do it now. This urgency cannot be overstated.
I will be at the at the "Skill Up & Connect for Community" event, along with some other folks from the Whatcom Coalition for Palestine, on Saturday March 22, 2025.
We will have information about upcoming events, craft items for sale to support donations for families in Gaza, and information about ways to get involved.
March 22 from 2:30 to 6:00 p.m. Bellingham Unitarian Fellowship
There have been so many mornings after long nights of troubled sleep these past eighteen months when I have started my day thinking this was it--this would finally be the moment, the thing, the time the world would awaken and together do what is necessary to end this injustice, to stop this violence, to try to begin to put right so many wrongs which have left permanent scars and mountains of grief that will never be fully processed.
How I have been wrong so many times. How my heart has broken with each wrong day.
With Israel's continue violation of the ceasefire agreement, and constant flagrant violations of every international and humanitarian law, conditions in Gaza continue to be dangerous as they find ways to extend their genocidal attacks on the Palestinian people.
Military aggression and the sadistic violent targeting of people as they try to survive have increased. Since the very beginning of the ceasefire implementation, Israeli forces have continued their attacks, intermittently firing upon or bombing individuals with drones, killing approximately three Palestinians per day. The use of drones to create a permanent sense of danger and threat is also common, as they hover above tents and play threatening messages when people are trying to rest.
Israel's most recent total blockade of trucks and supplies, which began on March 2, means Palestinians in Gaza are suffering from extreme hunger and ill health, as conditions worsen by the minute. How we have allowed this to continue defies comprehension.
These past two weeks have been very very difficult. The water crisis has only grown more dire, with Israel cutting power to the last remaining desalination plant this week. Food prices have skyrocketed, and people are forced to survive on canned food with low nutritional content, which exacerbates chronic health problems, especially for those already suffering from high blood pressure. Which also means new health ailments and diseases are becoming increasingly widespread. And because it is Ramadan, people are fasting, which means there is also great suffering from not having enough food after fasting for 16 hours at a time.
Everyone I talk with is exhausted. Everyone is weary. Many are sick. And no one knows when this will end. And all of this suffering, hardship, and danger is not the result of a natural disaster which cannot be controlled– it is a deliberate, human-made crisis being intentionally inflicted to cause harm.
When I spoke with a friend on Friday, and I asked how he was, he said he was fine. He always tries to reassure me, never wanting me to worry. I responded that I was glad he was fine, but that I also understood that nothing was fine, that everything was difficult. And that was when he finally said:
"We are living in a nightmare. We hope it ends quickly, because this is not life."
[This animated image above includes some of the words shared with me by the families in Gaza who I am closest to.]
The pain of seeing others suffer and not being able to stop it is different from the pain of living through the suffering first-hand. But it is still a pain that binds us, and it drives my every action, hope, and prayer. I have stepped up all my efforts to raise funds because it is the main thing I can do to help right now. I am talking to everyone I can. I am selling anything I have of value. I am planning more fundraisers. Every day I seek out more ways to do more and to reach more people. I share this with you not to center myself–I hope the focus will always be on the families in Gaza who are trying to survive–I share it because I want you to understand how the support you have given is important. It is making a difference. It is helping. And it is needed. Anything you can do or give right now is needed.
The families I am talking with every day are living in a nightmare which feels never-ending, a nightmare from which they hope to awaken. A nightmare that would end if we could wake up those in this world who are still too asleep to understand and stop what is happening.
Please don't stop talking about Gaza, don’t stop giving your support. And if you haven't started yet, please start now. Bring this awareness with you to every space you are in. Give as much as you can afford to give. Lives literally depend on it, and we have a duty and responsibility to support those who are trying to survive, especially when we have been unable to stop what is being done to them.
Every day I think about the students in Gaza. I think about the teachers. The educators. The professors, administrators, and staff of the schools, colleges, and universities in Gaza. Those who have been killed by Israel, and those who are still alive but whose school and university buildings have been destroyed. Those whose education and careers have been violently disrupted or ended. Those who are still trying to learn and to teach despite the ongoing genocide.
During last week’s presentation, I talked a little about scholasticide in Gaza, and I also shared the stories of one student and two educators who I am personally connected to and am trying to raise funds for. I think about the three of them constantly, and I speak with them often. But I know there are also many many more students and educators who I did not talk about, who are also in need of recognition and support.
“I have seen students in Gaza study by flame and torch light in the midst of falling bombs; students giving their thesis presentations in makeshift tents, wandering the destroyed streets after searching all day for water and food to now search for a signal so they can take their final exams. And I wonder, what world am I living in where no institution of higher education in the country I reside has expressed any public support for these students, nor any condemnation of the genocide and violence the U.S. government is funding and making possible?”
I also wrote how I could not understand why educators, college and university staff members, teachers, professors, and school administrators everywhere, all over the world, were not doing more for our colleagues in Palestine. Nearly every university and college building in Gaza has been destroyed, and the lack of response to this scholasticide from our educational institutions–or rather not just the lack, but in some cases the overt and violent suppression by educational institutions against students, staff, and faculty who are speaking out--is yet another example of how the United States has failed the Palestinian people, and the world.
And with today’s news of the arrest and forced disappearance of the Columbia University student Mahmoud Khalil here in the United States, I will add that I also do not understand why educators, college and university staff members, teachers, professors, and school administrators in this country are not doing more to support Palestinian students and allies, no matter where they reside.
Palestine has been renowned for years as having one of the highest literacy rates in the world, and as being a place where education and reading are valued, supported, and highly esteemed. Education is integrated into Palestinian culture, heritage, and identity. Which is why Israel (with the support of the United States government) has always targeted it.
Quoting from the a statement published by the Scholars Against the War on Palestine, ‘Scholasticide’ is a term that was first coined by Professor Karma Nabulsi, who conceptualized it in the context of the Israeli assault on Gaza, Palestine in 2009, but also with reference to a pattern of Israeli colonial attacks on Palestinian scholars, students, and educational institutions going back to the Nakba of 1948, and expanding after the 1967 war on Palestine and the 1982 invasion of Lebanon.
“The term combines the Latin prefix schola, meaning school, and the Latin suffix cide, meaning killing. Nabulsi used it to describe the ‘systematic destruction of Palestinian education by Israel’ to counter a tradition of Palestinian learning. That tradition, Nabulsi observed, reflected the enormous ‘role and power of education in an occupied society’ in which freedom of thought ‘posits possibilities, open horizons,’ contrasting sharply with ‘the apartheid wall, the shackling checkpoints, [and] the choking prisons.’. Recognizing 'how important education is to the Palestinian tradition and the Palestinian revolution,’ Nabulsi noted that Israeli colonial policymakers ‘cannot abide it and have to destroy it.’ During the latest Israeli genocidal war on Gaza, Palestine in 2023/2024, scholasticide has intensified on an unprecedented scale.”
According to a UN Report published in April 2024, more than 80% of the schools in Gaza have been severely damaged or destroyed, amounting to what appears to be a deliberate effort to destroy the Palestinian education system. This ‘scholasticide’ also refers to the targeting of teachers, students and staff, and the destruction of educational infrastructure. That same report explains,
“After six months of military assault, more than 5,479 students, 261 teachers and 95 university professors have been killed in Gaza, and over 7,819 students and 756 teachers have been injured – with numbers growing each day. At least 60 percent of educational facilities, including 13 public libraries, have been damaged or destroyed and at least 625,000 students have no access to education. Another 195 heritage sites, 227 mosques and three churches have also been damaged or destroyed, including the Central Archives of Gaza, containing 150 years of history. Israa University, the last remaining university in Gaza was demolished by the Israeli military on 17 January 2024.”
We need to do more, especially those of us who work in higher education in the U.S. And if you are reading this and that applies to you, and you are wondering what to do, how to respond, what we should be asking for, please read the Unified Emergency Statement by Palestinian Academics and Administrators of Gaza Universities, and then review their listed priorities for clarity and guidance. And while you are doing that, please also support the students and educators in Gaza through direct aid and donations.
Last weekend I gave a presentation for the "Eight Families in Gaza: Amplifying Their Voices" event, offered in affiliation with the Whatcom Coalition for Palestine. I remain grateful to the families who shared so generously shared their photos, their words, their writing, their videos, and their voices. Everything I presented during this event was developed in collaboration with members of the families who were featured, and it was shared with their permission and blessing.
I have the deepest respect for these families. While I know my presentation was not enough to do them justice, and while I wished to center them, what I shared was also filtered through my own personal feelings and experiences. But I still hope that it brought these families closer to all of us, that the attendees came away from the program changed by what they saw and heard, and that local support for these families and for Palestinian justice will only grow stronger.
Thank you to everyone who attended and supported the event, and also to those who made financial gifts to the families. It was heartening to hear from those who passed their support on to me to disperse, and also to see familiar names on the donor pages over the following days. And with the increasingly dire and dangerous conditions created by Israel's continued violation of the ceasefire agreement and international & humanitarian law, combined with their increased military aggression and violence, what was already an overwhelming challenge to find and secure food, water, medicine, and basic necessities has only intensified.
Israel has completely blocked trucks and supplies from entering into Gaza, which means there is once again a severe fuel and food shortage. Prices have skyrocketed and continue to rise. The donations made by event attendees after Sunday's event are helping people get through this terrible week. Currently the families I am in direct contact with are struggling, trying to take things one day at a time, but despair is getting harder to repel.
Ramadan started last weekend, and there is often not enough food to adequately sustain them when they are able to break their fast. They are mainly forced to rely on often canned food with low nutritional value purchased at high prices. They are hungry and exhausted, and without adequate shelter, and there has recently been a serious flu outbreak that has affected many. And with the continued uncertainty, when experience has only shown them that with time conditions worsen, hope is getting harder and harder to find or feel.
Tomorrow I am sending a transfer of funds to the two families whose campaigns I personally host and manage, and then I will begin again more attempts to raise more support to help them get through the next week. And all the while I hope and pray for an end to Israel's illegal and immoral blockade and their use of forced starvation and collective punishment as yet another way to escalate their genocidal attacks on Palestinians in Gaza.
During last weekend's event Q & A following the presentation, it became clear that there is also an interest in learning more about various grassroots groups, programs, and initiatives led by Palestinians in Gaza which we can support. I explained how direct aid is what is most urgently right now, and that donating to NGOs won't have the impact that is being requested from people in Gaza, but there are a number of Palestinian-led collectives, campaigns, and projects doing critical work.
I share this now as a follow-up to last weekend, and to thank everyone again for the support. I thank the families in Gaza who so generously shared with me, and I thank everyone who came to and helped with the event. And those who made donations to the families who were featured. And I also thank you for reading this, and for your desire to figure out what more you can do, and your commitment to action.
Bellingham Public Library Lecture Room (Central Branch)
Event Description: A presentation offering an opportunity to learn about eight families in Gaza who are connected to a local community member (Clarissa) who has received permission to share their stories, words, photos, and other media. This is an opportunity to learn more about their lives, loves, and challenges, and to find out more about ways you can offer meaningful and direct support to Palestinians in Gaza.
(This event is affiliated with the Whatcom Coalition for Palestine and is notsponsored by the Bellingham Public Library).
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