A young baker delivers moments of joy and connection to the besieged people of Gaza.

Grief, loss, and fear have destroyed the possibility of celebrating what should be the happiest occasions.

My personal reading of the poem, ‘To A Young Poet,’ is shaped by exile, media habituation, and emotional numbness.

Her inspiration, support, and love have helped me persevere through momentous challenges to obtain my master’s degree

In Gaza, the deliberate leveling of everything beyond the “yellow line” ensures that there is no home to return to.

I return to the shore again and again, searching for freedom in the only horizon still open to me.

People have adapted using improvised tools, repaired household items, and makeshift solutions to ordinary routines.

Officially appointed and experienced teachers struggle to find work, contribute their knowledge, and survive in Gaza.

In exile in Egypt, I carry Gaza within me wherever I go, but I do not know where I can safely plant my roots.

Communities find strength as prayers rise from Gaza City’s tent mosques.

My future remains on hold while I wait for the Rafah border crossing to reopen.

I live between the silence of the present and the noise of the recent past.