All About Palestine
In the past two weeks, I’ve been recovering from an incredible event I had the honor of participating in called All About Palestine. It was hosted at the Richmond Convention Center, and over 1,000 people attended. My friend Kirwin recommended that I apply for a booth at the event since they constantly hear me talk about creating art for Palestine and my desire to spread it around the city. I was hesitant to apply since I’m not Palestinian, but after speaking with the organizers and hearing their enthusiasm for my booth idea, I decided to give it my all.
Putting together a photo, video, and art exhibition in a month wasn’t easy and required organization, focus, and time. Last year, I worked on the most extensive video project I’ve ever completed. Although it was immensely meaningful, and I’m really proud of what I co-created, my heart often hurt not to have more time and space to realize all my ideas for advocating for Palestine. Now that that project is completed, it felt like such a gift to get to dedicate my energy to making this happen.
One of the most meaningful parts of the process was digging through my old journals from 2009 and 2012 to read what I wrote when I was in Palestine. The audience for the event was people who are just learning about Palestine, so I thought it might be valuable to trace the thread of my own reckoning with the horrors of U.S.-funded apartheid, occupation, displacement, and genocide in Palestine.
I dug through my photo archives, even looking through my iPhone archives. I revisited the videos that the participants of the Eyewitness Palestine workshop that I led created. I transcribed an interview that I conducted in 2015 with Manal Tamimi. While working on the photo exhibition, I listened to audiobooks and podcasts about Palestine (finally finishing 100 Years of War on Palestine). I reached out to Sami Al-Alul, and he agreed to have me display his incredible archive of photos of Palestine alongside my photos. I made a twenty-page zine to accompany the photos and videos. I designed and carved a new Free Palestine linocut. My living room became a temporary exhibition as I prepped the layout of the photos on the room dividers.
The more time I spent in the written, visual, and audio archives, the more I remembered how much my time in Palestine shaped my soul and life. The more I looked into the eyes of the people I’d met, the more I read their words and testimonies, the more my heart burned with the truth.
When the day finally arrived, Sun helped me set up the photo and video exhibition. We could smell the cardamom-infused coffee from the next booth over. We spent two hours attaching each photo to the magnetic room dividers. We set up the laptop and iPad to share videos. Guests began arriving and didn’t stop for six hours. I shared stories and made linocut prints and shared so many sweet moments with people. I gave a history lesson to someone who shared that they didn’t know the difference between the West Bank and Gaza. I held hands with a young person with tears in their eyes. A woman who shared that she’s from Gaza cried in my arms after taking in the photo exhibition and reading the zine. We held each other, feeling the grief and love together.
At the end of the day, when the massive convention center room was empty, taking down each of the magnets holding up the photos, my heart was bursting.
My goal had been to share a glimpse of the beauty, sacredness, and power of Palestinians. To help people fall in love with Palestine. To deepen our devotion to acting for Palestinian liberation.
While I can’t know the impact of sharing art for Palestine, I know that doing so changes me too. It is a sacrament - a holy ritual that affirms what is sacred. I will offer my heart and soul towards seeing Israel & the U.S.’ horrific violence and oppression end. I will not turn away. I will hold out my hand and open my arms so we can see the truth together.
