You know, the killing is so relentless that you almost get used to it. A classroom of children killed every single day. You write about it, you read about it. Someone’s mother digs herself up from the rubble. Someone’s father is split in half. There was a video of wounded man using his arms to crawl across the road. Another man is so hungry he weeps. You read the stories. Each one is more brutal than the next and somehow the brutality is banal. You are numb, for better or for worse. But there are moments in the day, maybe just a singular moment, when you actually contend with the magnitude of the tragedy, when you are able to quantify the loss and in those moments you feel crushed—there are no adjectives. There are people mourning their lovers. Students missing their teachers. Orphans. Widowers. Grandmothers who look just like your own. I cry when I think about the people who were martyred just hours before they could apologize for something, or confess to something, or have something to eat. Or the slain who believed they would survive. And as the rancid rotten people of the world pontificate and debate the definition of genocide, you are at war with yourself, trying desperately to ignore the material meaning of the word. You read the news and you read the news and it is so hard to accept that the dead, the thousands of people they are slaughtering, they are your loved ones and your loved ones’ loved ones. This isn’t just a bad dream.
Today marks Nakba Day, an annual day of remembrance to commemorate the expulsion of more than 700,000 Palestinians between 1947 and 1949 during the creation of the State of Israel and the year that followed.
Inea is a New Yorker and a Nakba survivor. She shared her story with us — one of home, tradition and memory over generations.
My "Roman Empire is the realization that my life is a lottery win. Somewhere in Sudan, Pålestine, iran, Afghanistan, Iraq or Congo, there is a boy smarter than me. He is more disciplined, more resilient, and holds more potential in his single finger than I do in my entire career.
The only difference? I am siting in a train and he is sting in the rubble of his dreams.
My "bad days" are his wildest dreams.
My "burnout" is a luxury he can't afford because his only job is staying alive.
It's geographical luck and it's a haunting injustice that we all refuse to acknowledge and look away
Palestinians living in Gaza being expected to not be antisemitic while Israelis desecrate their land and faces and bodies with the star of david and meanwhile it’s fine for American zionists to support Israel because ‘they were indoctrinated into it’
I took this footage when I was about 13. What you’re seeing is Jewish American tourists parading around our house like it’s a zoo, gloating about stealing it, harassing us and hurling insults. This is some of what we are protesting when we protest land theft events at Yeshivas.
If Hamas are being asked to disarm, then the IDF should be asked to disarm as well.
The IDF has more weapons and more militants. It kills more people, kidnaps more people, and destroys more property.
Israel is a terror state.
@esereno@iCyclone Yo estuve ayer en corralero, casi el 100% de los techos de lámina ya no están, algunos árboles deribaron muros, postes caídos y muchas palmeras y árboles en el suelo.