Dear Dina

Dear Dina Rania Mustafa

This last summer, the summer of 2019, I took you to Palestine for the first time. Everyone asked me how you were while there and all I could tell them was that you had entered your natural habitat and it felt like you were finally home. You were all over everything and were excited and ready to absorb all that was around you. I don’t know if it was the warm weather, the constant company, being outdoors, or being surrounded by so many people all the time, but you were completely comfortable and at home. It was interesting going to Palestine with a baby. I was able to see the people I love and the land I love from a different perspective. You were a one year old ready to take on the world. You went up to strangers and would ask them to eat from their food. You said hi to every baby that crossed our path. You called every man you saw Amo. You just wanted to explore everywhere and meet everyone. I was conditioned to apologize for causing any disruption by you saying hi to strangers or going up to them but in Palestine it was different. You were not just my child, you were the child of this country, you were the child of this community. You know when they say it takes a village to raise a child, well, in Palestine, they actually live by that.

That summer, I wanted to take you to Palestine to introduce you to your great-grandparents since you were their first great-grandchild. It was especially important to me for you to meet your greatgrandfather since his health was deteriorating. Then, on the morning of May 24th, 2019, your grandfather, my dad, rang our doorbell very early in the morning and told me, “Your mom’s dad, your grandfather passed away.” I questioned it. I denied it and then I sunk to the ground and broke into tears repeating, “This can’t be. He was supposed to meet Dina first. This can’t be.” As fate would have it, your greatgrandfather passed away mere weeks before you were supposed to meet and I was heartbroken, but it strengthened my resolve to go to Palestine that summer and introduce you to my family and to the land.

Photo by Rania Mustafa

That trip to Palestine was different. It was not like any other time I had visited Palestine and I owe that to you. In the past, I was more daring because in my eyes I was dispensable. But now, I was a mom and I had a little baby depending on me and knowing I had to come home to you....well, that kept me in check. Since the first time I stepped foot into Palestine as a baby - younger than you were- there was not a single time I went to Palestine and did not go to Jerusalem. Jerusalem, for me, has always been my happy place. There has always been something so magical about it. The walls of this city have seen years and years of history. After the laws changed and I became of age where I had my hawiyya, things became more difficult but that had never stopped me - I always found a way. Some days I reflect on that summer and I think I jinxed myself and that is what kept me, for the first time ever, from not stepping foot into Jerusalem. Other days, I think my grandfather who always had a lecture about Jerusalem prepared passed away before being able to visit Jerusalem for the last time. Jerusalem was his happy place too...Maybe it was in honor of his memory that I was unable to get in. On most days, though, I remember that my small pain of being deprived the sight of Masjid Al-Aqsa is a pebble compared to what my Palestinian sisters and brothers have to endure under this occupation.

The first time I visited a refugee camp was in 2017. It was a life changing experience. The secret to Palestinian liberation lies in the walls of the refugee camps. I was determined not to make the same mistake again and this past summer, you visited refugee camps for the first time. You played with the kids, ran in the streets and even argued with one of the other toddlers as to who should ride the bike. You ended up taking turns. At the end of the day, kids all start out the same - filled with innocence and ready to explore the world. As we grow up, things change. The reality of the world, in the case of your sisters and brothers living in Palestine, the reality of the occupation takes over the mind the same way an occupation takes over the land. And the other toddlers who were playing with you that day are going to have to grow up much faster than you ever will. They will have to face their realities as a sibling is killed, as night raids by the Israeli army occur, as a friend is sentenced to life in prison. As a mother, I would do anything to keep my child from experiencing an ounce of pain. I have the opportunity to shield you although many do not. We are so deeply privileged and I do not want you to ever forget that and I want you to live your life remembering that every single day.

That summer, I took it upon myself to question everything. To question my family, to question the way the things are, to question all that I saw. I felt limited in what I can do and so I decided to engage in research to better understand. Every night, I would sit with my uncles and aunt and talk to them about their realities under occupation. “You should not live your lives in fear. That’s what they want.” I would repeat over and over. Every night until one night my uncle stopped me. He proceeded to explain, “We are not afraid for ourselves. There is nothing the Israeli army can do to cause me to be afraid. I fear for my children. Yet as much as I want to protect them, I know I am powerless to. So I do what I can. If not losing their dad is all I can do, then that’s what I will do.” He continued, fueled by the injustice, “Do you know that every day - every single day - when schools are in session, the Israeli army throws tear gas on the road that the kids take to get home from school. Every single day. Sometimes the other parents and I try to distract them so the kids can go home normally from time to time. We take every opportunity to create a sense of normalcy.” This trip to Palestine was different and it was because of you, Dina. You made me realize that being able to protect you, being able to do everything I can in my power to be there for you, being able to shield you from the harshness of this world was all proof of my privilege.

Acknowledging your privilege is just the first step. Now you have to use your privilege to ensure a better tomorrow for others. We are Palestinian. We have the privilege of carrying that identity as Americans. And the simple reality is that we have to do something to incite change. That’s one of the reasons why I chose to spend my last six years as the executive director of the Palestinian American Community Center (PACC). At PACC, we are working today to ensure a better future tomorrow. A future where Palestinians can travel freely throughout Palestine. Where we can pray in Masjid Al-Aqsa then continue our day trip to Safad, where your dad is from. Where kids can not only go to school without fear but are able to do whatever they want once they graduate, free of the occupation and its worries. Where the sky is their actual limit and is not bogged down by the occupation. Where my grandfather may have had access to proper health care and could have managed living with a stroke better. Where the kids in the refugee camps can return to the homes of their ancestors and actualize their grandparents dreams of return. Where Palestinians can do whatever they want, free of an occupying force. Where mothers and fathers can protect their children and shield them from the harshness of the world. Where kids can just be kids.

الحرية المستحقة آية مصطفى

سئمت من المرور عبر الجسور قبل دخول بلادي وسئمت من عدم السماح لي بالصلاة في القدس أكره الجدار الذي يفصل بين الجار وجاره الذي يمنع الطالب من مدرسته وأكره الجندي لا أفهم حرمان الأطفال من رؤية الشاطئ فلسطيني ً ولا أفهم كيف لمراهق صهيوني أن يذل عجوزا أبكي على المرأة الحامل التي تتعذب في السجن وأبكي للفلاح الذي احترقت أشجاره يؤلمني هدم وحرق البيوت الفلسطينية ما تؤلمني رؤية بناء البيوت للمستعمرين فوق بيوت فلسطينيةك يظن الناس أن هذا الوضع لن ينتهي أي أن الحرية قد تبدو بعيدة إلى فلسطين حرة ً في أن أعود قريبا ٌ لا وألف لا، ما يزال لدي أمل حتى لو كانت المعركة من أجل الحرية معركة مريرة

من الشعب الفلسطيني ً لأنه لا يوجد شعب أكثر عزيمة وإصرارا ولا يوجد أرض تستحق الحرية كما تستحقها الأرض الفلسطينية