“The way she held hope that her son would be released from prison was by checking the leaves of her orange tree everyday. She would ask my aunt, ‘have the leaves turned green yet? My son is coming home once they do.”
Above is an excerpt from an interview I conducted with a Palestinian-American student on her and her family’s experiences in their homeland and America. The mainstream media narrative since the wake of October 7th grossly overlooks the human suffering of Palestinians during the unrelenting Israeli bombardment on Gaza now and the occupation of the past 75 years. In an effort to bring the narrative back to those who have suffered first-hand from this occupation, she shared experiences of her family and those around her. Her stories are ones of persecution, but also revelations of community, resilience, and hope.
Her story starts in Palestine. She was born there as a conscious symbol of her heritage–
“[My parents] just wanted one of their children to be born in Palestine to symbolize that we are Palestinian; that we are still born there although we live here, that we’re a part of the larger diaspora, which includes millions of Palestinians who have had to flee due to the ongoing Israeli assault on all of Palestine.”
Diaspora, meaning the Palestinians that have and continue to be expelled since the Nakba or the “Great Catastrophe” of 1948. This was the result of the Arab-Israeli war and attacks on Palestinian villages, causing the displacement of 750,000 Palestinians. The UN passed multiple resolutions calling for the return of these refugees, a right held by all refugees. The Israeli government, however, vehemently denies them reentry to their homeland, as displacement continues through illegal Israeli settlements on Palestinian territory to this day. Palestinian homes are confiscated, destroyed or awarded to Israeli settlers simply because they can do so with impunity.
She mentioned, “The millions of Palestinians who have been displaced still hold the keys to their homes. Their homes from before they were expelled.”
75 years later, more than 5 million Palestinian refugees live in different regions and refugee camps throughout the Middle East, waiting for their return to their homeland, keys in hand.
She grew up in a politically engaged family, attending Palestinian protests and other causes involving the Arab community. Her family members were outspoken figures under the Israeli occupation, pointing out the injustices they and others like them face–
“Being Palestinian is one of the number one things about me. I am Palestinian before I am human.”
She continued, detailing memories of her homeland from past summers:
“Traveling to Jenin, Yaffa, Haifa, Bethlehem.Visiting the walled off hotel and walking through the history of Palestine in an interactive way . . . wish[ing] that every American could walk through it, because it displayed every nuance of the settler colonial project and how detrimental it is to every aspect of Palestinian life, from agriculture to electricity to distribution of resources and community.”
Nights spent “staying up late drinking shay with my uncles and aunts as they crack jokes about life in Palestine versus life in America . . .
My uncle taking us on drives in Ramallah to see the beauty of the city at night . . . picking olives off my uncle’s olive tree, cucumbers from his garden, while sharing stories of his time spent incarcerated.”
Her uncle she spent so many summer nights with, once a political prisoner:
“He was stopped at the Jerusalem checkpoint to enter what is now called Israel. He was with his wife, and she had no idea what to do. They forcefully removed him from her arms and took him away. That was the last she’d seen or heard from him for a long time.”
For both Palestinian children and adults, imprisonment is normal. Imprisonment without a trial, sentence, or lawyer is normal. Children ripped from their homes in the middle of the night, berated and intimidated into signing documents written in a language they don’t understand is normal. Before October 7th, there were over 5,000 Palestinian prisoners, 170 of which were children. Since October 7th, that number has doubled to 10,000 Palestinian prisoners from both the West Bank and the Gaza Strip.
“He told us the stories of what he had endured. This included torture. Being locked in an isolated room. Cigarettes put out on his arms and legs. He was verbally degraded, assaulted. No humanitarian aid or treatment was provided within the prison. He was there with no lawyer– his family didn’t even know where he was.”
Fast forward to today, and her family in the West Bank now has a front row seat to Israeli missiles aimed at her own people: “They shut down schools. Kids aren’t allowed to go on the streets; they’ve been hiding away in their homes. From the West Bank, they hear and see the missiles fired into Gaza. This causes so much trauma in itself, especially for the children. I asked about my cousins, and I’m told they’re holding up okay. But they go to sleep thinking about this.”
Not only are Palestinians in the West Bank forced to watch the destruction of their own people, but they themselves face increased aggression from Israeli forces and settlers, with around 133 Palestinians killed in the West Bank since October 7th. These murders range from settlers shooting a father tending to his olive trees, to open fire on a Palestinian funeral.
While Palestinians overseas suffer through a never-ending cycle of violence, I inquired about what it is like to be a Palestinian-American in this country and on campus:
“It’s hard living life like this, which is an understatement. Being in America, one of the most pro-Zionist countries in the world, there’s been a lot of fear for Palestinians here in America to organize to figure out ways to make change, to make an impact . . . Because we recognize that America is the problem as well. America is a co-conspirator.”
Mentioning the polarizing and violent environment on and near campus, she recalled multiple attacks on Pro-Palestinian students, one on a group of students waving Palestinian flags outside their car:
“In one instance, a group of Zionists surrounded a Palestinian’s car, sitting on top of the car— immobilizing them while they all gathered around. When the students stepped out of the vehicle to tell them to get off, a Zionist held a knife to one of the student’s throats.”
“Another incident on campus was when we had our teach-in for Palestine. They threatened professors, so we had to move the in-person teach-in to a Zoom teach-in. Some students had gone to the classroom where the teach-in was supposed to be held, and were met with two Zionist men who called them terrorists, threatened to rip their heads off, ripped the laptop out of their hands and threw it in the trash.”
In response, “UCPD didn’t do anything. [The students] were afraid because they saw their perpetrators walk away freely. And that is the kind of campus we live in. That is what Chancellor Gene Block is doing . . . disregarding the Palestinian and Palestinian allies who are suffering. Who are being attacked on campus, being hate-crimed on campus. And he has stayed silent– not even silent– he has taken the side of the oppressor. If our own Chancellor is not condemning the behaviors of people who are attacking and threatening our students, they don’t feel safe enough to show up to campus.”
Amidst the hostile school environment, I inquired what the grieving process is like for her and students like her:
“That’s been something I’ve been struggling with. It’s really hard for many Palestinians in America, because we feel helpless. We see the country we live in and how the people in power are actively supporting the genocide of our people.
It feels like we’re screaming into an echo chamber and no one is listening. I feel guilt and shame for living my life while my community is suffering . . .
We have to prove. We have to prove that we matter. And that really does take an emotional toll on a Palestinian. ”
She explained the source of this frustration:
“Every day, your identity is questioned. Your existence is questioned. Especially at this time, people are still framing this as a conflict. Conflict is not the word. This is ethnic cleansing. Having to debate whether or not our lives matter is so out of touch with reality. It is hard to set a time to grieve when we are constantly having to respond, react and organize.”
I asked her what her response is to those who only see the one-sided narrative of the US government and media in response to the current bombardment on Gaza:
“When Palestinians resist, that is all the media sees, is Palestinians resisting. But they don’t look at the context, the history, the 75 year long history of this oppression . . .
My question is what did the people expect, when you are under a 75-year colonial oppression by the strongest military in the Middle East, that has been denying your basic human needs. Consistently firing bombs and missiles, targeting hospitals. It has been so hard for all Palestinians to endure boots on the ground, military raids in the middle of the night, kidnapping children or kidnapping fathers simply because they speak out against the Israeli government.
Children in the streets being shot point blank in the middle of the night. Not even one gun shot, but two to make sure that child died.”
She urged, “You have to look at the history of Palestine and actively engage in conversations with Palestinian students who are here to tell you their stories, to tell you their truth, the stories of their grandmothers . . . I would encourage them not to look at things through the scope of strictly Western media. It is listening to the indigenous populations that have been historically colonized for the past 75 years, versus an American journalist that may be Zionist.”
10,000 men, women and children in counting have been killed in Gaza– directly at the hands of Israeli forces. Regular civilians, and in growing numbers, journalists, doctors, nurses and NGO workers. Refugee camps, hospitals, homes, and schools are all fair game for a potential bombing.
She explained, “Gaza has been notably called an open air prison. It is the most densely populated area in the world and has been isolated from the rest of Palestine, blockaded by land, air and sea. They now have no access to humanitarian resources like medical supplies, food, water and electricity. And this is all done on purpose to isolate and exterminate the Gazan population. Especially in terms of electricity. They know Gazans have phones. They are connected to this world of social media. And the reason they cut the electricity– even before this only allowing 3-4 hours of electricity a day– is because they don’t want this to go public. They want to silence Israeli aggression. They want to paint Gazans as the perpetrators.”
“What would freedom for them mean? What does ‘Free Palestine’ mean, aside from common misconceptions?”
“Free Palestine means having the millions of people displaced since 1948 return to their homeland. Free Palestine means no more borders, no more checkpoints, no more humiliation. It means free access and mobility in any part of Palestine that Palestinians wish. Free Palestine means that they have their own economy, their own government. It means releasing all the prisoners, all the children prisoners who have been incarcerated for no reason. Free Palestine means no more of any of that. It means no more oppressor, it means getting our land back, it means resisting settler colonization and restructuring our framework to decolonize everything that has happened to us. It means reuniting the Palestinian people as one again . . . building back the country that was stolen from us so many years ago and liberating its people.”
“What is one thing you want people to know about Palestine and the Palestinian people?”
“The one thing I want people to know about the state of Palestine is that Palestine existed long before the state of Israel . . . Palestinian Muslims, Jews, and Christians all lived in harmony before the settler colonial state of Israel came to be. And what Israeli Zionists forgot when they expelled the 75,000 Palestinians 75 years ago was that their grandchildren are coming back and reclaiming their land today.”
In terms of her people, she wanted others to know,
“It is the Palestinian people that are treating their injured. The Palestinian people themselves. Despite suffering themselves, they still support one another.”
Recalling a video of a doctor in Palestine presenting a woman’s dead son to her, urging the other doctor to only show one side of the child’s face due to the gruesome nature of it from an Israeli airstrike, she reflected,
“That shows the compassion in Palestinian hearts. That they still want to minimize the pain of others in any little way they can. Everybody knows the state each person is in there. And they still have the capacity in their heart to protect and alleviate the pain of their people. It shows how brave and courageous Palestinians are and have always been.”
The excerpt at the beginning of this article was the story of her grandma, waiting for the day her son would return home from political imprisonment.
“My grandma was able to see him before she passed away. Before that . . . the way she held hope that her son would be released from prison was by checking the leaves of her orange tree everyday. She would ask my aunt, ‘have the leaves turned green yet? My son is coming home once they do’.”
The orange tree is a symbol of the Palestinian connection to the land, as Jaffa oranges were a major export for Palestinian farmers before the Nakba. They cultivated and so deeply cared for the land, resulting in such a rich fruit. They have since become scarce due to the expulsion of the people who cared for them all those years ago.
The outlook is bleak in terms of Gaza. No corner left untouched by death, decay, and misery. But this is not just a story of devastation, and neither is the Palestinian story as a whole.
She urged, “It is so important for us to reflect back on the Palestinians in Palestine today. They are afraid. Whether we see it or not, they are afraid. They are afraid of their lives being taken, they are afraid of never seeing their mothers again, their brothers, their sons, and daughters. Being ripped to shreds in a matter of seconds. This is the reality of Palestinians. They are afraid. But they continue to resist. And that is the core principle of being Palestinian. Is having that resilience. That is what Palestinians are known for.
And it is beautiful that despite all that, they find this intrinsic motivation to defend their homeland, with beautiful smiles on their faces.”
Despite the loss, like her grandma, we look at the tree everyday. We do this out of hope. Hope for the safety and return of the people of Gaza and the freedom of Palestine. And also like her grandma, we won’t stop looking and holding them in our hearts until they are free.