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?