Between borders and uncertainty, we fight to live, learn, heal, and hope again.

Maybe I would have sat longer in our garden / where jasmine crept up cracked walls / and everything still felt alive.

Even being paralyzed has not dented Sarah’s determination to serve others by entering the medical profession.

We came to Egypt fleeing death, but in exile suffering continues to chase us and we face an uncertain future.

Genocide changes you; it breaks you and deforms you.

A Gazan medical student in Egypt watches war devour his homeland while classmates dine at international chains that enable genocide.

In exile as my homeland is devastated by war, I’m still fighting to become a doctor and bring hope and medical care where it’s needed most.

Poverty first deprived Hanan of her husband, and then the war on Gaza made their separation indefinite.

When my cousins visited Gaza for the first time with my aunt, our joyful reunion quickly turned into a nightmare as war broke out.

To be Palestinian is to carry the weight of lost villages, to inherit a history that is scattered across borders.

In Gaza I clung to life despite the fear and chaos because it felt meaningful. Here I am alive, but life feels hollow.

Again, it is December / Second December / Without stars.