Like the people in the tents, like the fishermen readying their boats, I am tired of this situation. But none of us have the luxury of giving up.
I am not even allowed to go back to see what has become of my house and school.
After the ceasefire, I returned to a city of ruins, but I found our old school building still standing!
Teaching English was more than just a career; it served as a stabilizing force in my otherwise hectic existence. That part of me is missing now.
The computer was very useful for taking exams, attending online lectures, and downloading materials, but it was less important than paying tuition.
‘I want to read and write. That is my future. I want to be an astronaut, to fly above all this.’
Ahmed Abu-Aljidian may be blind, but he can picture himself thriving at a university abroad.
Lamia Hatem, who founded the first school for the children of martyrs in Gaza, is both mother and teacher to her students.
Between borders and uncertainty, we fight to live, learn, heal, and hope again.
My dream of becoming a teaching assistant has been supplanted by something much less meaningful.
The life of an exceptional student has been torn apart by siege, occupation, and war. God willing, inshallah, he will persevere.
I want to apply for scholarships to continue my education abroad, but will a master’s degree matter if I leave my disabled sister behind?
