A family migrates through seven different countries in pursuit of a home.

We cannot forget the past, but we can choose to live in the present.

Home is indeed where the heart is.

Sometimes it’s those chance encounters that enrich our lives the most.

Leaving Gaza is only the first step in the journey out.

My teacher is like me: He had everything but a life in his homeland.

A tribute to all of the migrants, desperate for a better life.

Who would move from the UAE to Gaza? I did.

I am Palestinian, but cannot visit Palestine. This is the fate of an exile in the diaspora.

I hear the sounds of cars driving by, but what really rings in my ears are the sounds of gunshots I’ve heard in Facebook videos of snipers injuring thousands of protesters.

I am studying in the United States, which was my dream. But how can I be happy when my people are being killed?