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Today is Good Friday, the day in Western Christian traditions that commemorates Jesus’ crucifixion on the cross. This day is most widely understood as a personal sacrifice that Jesus took on to atone for the sins of the world.
May we demand a world where everyone has the right to break their fast in peace, surrounded by loved ones, and nourishing food.
For Refaat. For Nizar. For Razan. For Ghassan. For Shireen. For Rachel.
In the midst of the rubble, Israeli soldiers loot through Palestinian homes and take pictures with women’s underwear to plaster across social media. As if the death and destruction were not enough, the fetishization and humiliation of women continue posthumously.
On Sunday, Aaron walked toward the Israeli embassy while livestreaming himself, speaking firmly and with conviction
International law is fraying at the seams. Or more like a paper bag trying to hold water, slowly disintegrating.
I keep coming back to it when I get overwhelmed with the massacres, the political apathy, the preparations of a buffer zone in Egypt, the fact that there are zero fully functioning hospitals in Gaza, the idea of the destruction Gazans will return to when the bombing stops.
So today I pray with each stitch of my embroidery, each note of my choral score. My prayer flows through each new Arabic word I learn and into the political analysis I consume and the witness I bear.
The court has ruled with unequivocal evidence that Israel is plausibly committing genocide and that Israel must stop the killing and incitement and increase aid.
A few months after I arrived in Colombia to start what ended up being five years with the CPT Colombia team, the 2013 AMF Futsal Women’s World Cup was held in Barrancabermeja, of all places.