We stand firmly against injustice in all its forms. Nothing can justify the current war crimes committed by Israel in occupied Palestine. Equally, nothing can excuse the continued support offered by other nations to this apartheid regime. If you believe in human rights, dignity, and justice, then we urge you to boycott this rogue state. Silence is complicity, do what’s right.
Background Since the war began, close to 20000 Palestinians have been killed in Gaza by Israeli occupation force, sparking international demands for a ceasefire.
In Gaza’s crucible, a saga of despair, Oppressed and aged, history’s brutal snare. Zionist forces wield an iron grip, Silent voices silenced, innocence they strip.
Years of blockade, poverty’s cruel vice, Struggle’s tale, where hope pays the agonizing price. Buildings crumble, chaos unfurls, Unconditional support, deadly whirls.
Seventy-five years, the struggle persists, Gaza stands unyielding, clenched fists. In echoes of sorrow, resistance prevails, A tale of survival, fierce endurance sails.
Israeli police arrested the internationally renowned feminist Palestinian academic Nadera Shalhoub-Kevorkian at her home in Jerusalem on Thursday on charges of incitement to violence. Shalhoub-Kevorkian, who holds both Israeli and U.S. citizenship, was suspended by Hebrew University last month after saying in an interview Israel was committing genocide in Gaza, though the university later reinstated her. We speak with anthropologist Sarah Ihmoud, who describes Shalhoub-Kevorkian as a mentor and inspiration to her and many others. “We hold the Hebrew University of Jerusalem responsible for the arrest and detention because of its persistent and public repression of her academic freedom, which led directly to yesterday’s arrest,” says Ihmoud, who teaches at College of the Holy Cross and is co-founder of the Palestinian Feminist Collective. “We see this as yet another example of Israel attacking Palestinians wherever they are, whoever they are. It underscores that no Palestinian is safe under Israel’s racist apartheid rule.”
(Scene: A ruined street in Gaza. The air is thick with dust and grief. Handala, the barefoot 10-year-old Palestinian boy with his back always turned to the world, stands amid the rubble. He does not turn around when Donald Trump arrives, escorted by cameras and advisors. Trump, dressed in his usual suit, surveys the destruction with a businessman’s eye, calculating profit, not pain.)
Trump:
So this is Gaza, huh? What a mess. But don’t worry, I have a vision—hotels, casinos, golf courses, the best, really. We’ll make Gaza the Riviera of the Middle East! And, of course, no more Palestinians. They have no right to be here.
Handala: (without turning around)
You look at destruction and see real estate. I look at it and see my people’s graves. You talk about a “Riviera.” I talk about a homeland.
Trump:
Oh, come on, kid. This place is a disaster. It needs development, investment. We’ll clear it out—new roads, luxury apartments. Think about it—no more rubble, just resorts. I’m a businessman, and I know how to make a place great again.
Handala:
Clear it out? You mean wipe out the last traces of my people? You want to build towers on the bones of murdered children. Tell me, did you even blink when your bombs crushed their tiny bodies?
Trump:
Listen, war is messy. But we have to support Israel, our greatest ally. They have the right to defend themselves!
Handala:
Defend themselves? Against babies? Against starving families? You cry for your Israeli prisoners but feel nothing for the thousands of Palestinian prisoners, rotting in dungeons without trial. Your justice is like your hair—fake and falling apart.
Trump:
Look, I make tough decisions. I cut spending for Americans, but Israel needs our help. Billions in aid, top-of-the-line bombs. I call that smart policy.
Handala:
Smart policy? You cut school lunches for your own children but pay for missiles that tear Palestinian children apart. You deport pro-Palestinian protesters but protect pro-Israeli ones. Your “freedom” has a price tag, and we all know who pays it—with blood.
Trump:
Well, if people protest too much, they should leave. America stands with Israel, no question about it. And if you people can’t live in Gaza peacefully, maybe you should leave too. There are other Arab countries, you know.
Handala:
Where should we go? My grandparents were forced from Yafa. My parents were pushed into Gaza. Now you want to shove me into the sea. Tell me, if a thief steals your home, do you pack your bags and thank him—or do you fight to return?
Trump:
Life isn’t fair, kid. Some win, some lose. That’s history.
Handala:
History remembers, Mr. Trump. And history does not forgive. One day, these ruins will speak louder than your towers. One day, my people will return—not as your workers, not as your tenants, but as the rightful owners of this land.
(Trump scoffs and turns away, uninterested in the words of a barefoot child. But Handala remains where he is, unmoved, unwavering—just as he has always been, waiting for justice that will one day come.)
This gem came actually came through another one, as it was Nabila Mango who took me to the fundraiser where Chris Gazaleh was a guest speaker. Nabila is the founder of Aswat ensembles and a pillar in her community for doing good. I was sold from the moment I saw the photograph of the mural he had created overlooking one of the busiest freeways in San Francisco. It stretches across the exterior of the apartment building on 23 Elgin St. next to Octavia Boulevard connector to highway 101.
The gorgeous and proud mural
Deserves a close up
Or two!
The description that came to mind as I was listening to Chris speak was what “an amiable and principled fellow”… an old soul, as they say with a young spirit who beautifully expresses his vision through graffiti art. I have a soft spot in my heart for graffiti art as it is central to Palestinian art and resistance, especially in the camps and that’s the subject of another post that is sure to come your way one day!
Once I sat down and interviewed Chris, my impression was confirmed, and I saw where it all came from. Chris was a delightful combination of youth and wisdom. The youth was there in his ever-ready smile and his love for hip-hop, graffiti art and the spoken word as a way to express himself and give voice to issues of identity and social justice. His wisdom showed in his love of stories and he grew up with stories of his grandparents and great grandparents and how they lived, both in the U.S. and in Palestine too.
What Chris was doing when I met him for the interview
The pen nib as a symbol of the voice art gives
I especially loved when he spoke of how his grandfather travelled from Palestine to the United States to work for seven years in order to keep his US citizenship, having been born in America. He said that his grandfather was told that if he also served in the US military, then that would expedite his citizenship status. His grandfather of course did both and was placed in the mail room as he had worked at the post office when he was in Palestine. He did such a fantastic job that he was promoted above some of the men who had mistreated him for his different appearance. He had stood his ground and defended himself. Much later on, he said that he forgave them as they were not raised to understand what was out there in the world and therefore they were not able to accept differences better, so what they did was out of not knowing vs. any mean intent. Chris has both his grandfather’s goodness of heart and strength of character and his love of Palestine and of the U.S., so the legacy lives on, strong.
His sedo grandfather
His sedo in a younger photo
His sedo as a young man
His great grandfather far left and other sedo far right
His other sedo
His mama
The other significant part to Chris’s story and his art, is that he started very young. He mentioned how his parents divorced when he was five years old and he used art as his therapy to transcend difficult times. In Middle School, he had more Arab school mates and that made him more aware of his identity. Then, he became interested in hip-hop and was inspired by listening to Arabic hip-hop in particular which gave him a greater appreciation for the language and a deeper connection to his roots. At the age of twenty one, Chris decided that he wanted to focus on visual arts and started doing murals, sketches and paintings, and with that he took on another artistic form in his toolkit of creative expression.
Chris’s principles shine through in the way that he decides whether he wants to work with someone or not. He considers why he is being asked to do the work and then, what it would be used for prior to saying yes to ensure that the project is aligned with his values. That’s why I was honored when he accepted my request to create pieces to give very special, gifts-of-a-lifetime to loved ones celebrating their Palestinian identity, strength and beauty.
At Reem’s California for community mural
And an art piece at Diyafa restaurant
Edward Said mural, one of the first
Strong statements of pride in identity and roots
Getting back to Chris and how he creates – as he prepares to start a piece, he thinks of the message he wants to send out and how he wants people to feel looking at it. Then he starts to put together symbols and a structure to represent characters that connect us beyond our daily lives and where an image can carry multiple meanings. And since his art is political, it’s challenging to choose the images and symbols that will carry positive meanings and stand against the onslaught of criticism from opposing viewpoints.
He sometimes starts an art piece with a quote and sometimes he draws shapes that become faces then he draws movements around them as if it’s the world and things around them or it can be part of their inner world so it’s their thoughts and busy minds coming out of their head. That last bit was said with a soft chuckle. The principles spoke loud and clear in how Chris expressed more than once that he had always wanted his art and message to be out there, rather than his name.
Such gorgeous sense of color
And movement
The bold black and whites
What imagination
And, creativity
I just want to keep looking at it!
Chris spoke of his upcoming visit to Palestine with eyewitness Palestine, which he is so excited to be embarking on soon, and also of his earlier visits to Palestine. Recollecting on his very first visit in 2007, he could clearly recall how the country had changed him, and the distinct impression that Palestine and it’s people had made on him as he prepared to leave. He was very sad to have the freedom to leave while others were stuck in such a horrible situation of oppression under the occupation. He also envied them that they could stay and live there in beautiful, beloved Palestine. I loved a story Chris shared of his next visit where he was hanging out in his cousin’s video store, playing with the young boys from the neighbourhood. He let them win a few times, then he won too and through it all he was struck by their politeness and courtesy towards him. They were by no means entitled nor spoiled as he described himself as a kid and many other kids with privileged lives of freedom and safety. One boy came back and gave him hot chocolate as a gesture of thanks and welcome. It was touching to hear Chris describe how moved he was by the boys generosity, knowing that he had so little money. It was clear that while the boy might have been poor in material possessions, he was rich in heart and was being true to his Palestinian and Arab roots of being hospitable .
Speaking of being touched, Chris had an honesty and openness of soul that truly spoke to me. It’s part of what makes his art so good. Its vibrancy overflows, whether with bold whites and blacks, which I absolutely love, or with strong colors. Yes, a talent comes with practice and dedication, and there is plenty of that in his story, but it also comes with the courage to speak ones truth beautifully and steadfastly. I wish Chris ever ascending heights of success, joy and beautiful companionship of an ever growing community that gets, celebrates and honors his art and his story.
