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

Photographs fail to convey the anguish and burden that each heart bears.

He receives his math lesson in a space where students and displaced families are crowded together.

I have traveled a very long road to reach my goal of dual bachelor’s degrees in translation and education.

I am determined to continue my education amidst the scholasticide.

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

Listening to my students, I feel as though I am standing between their childhoods and the war, trying to help them build a bridge towards hope.

I left Gaza to become a doctor, but it is taking a huge emotional toll.

My time spent teaching children in a tent added valuable information to my research on wartime schooling alternatives.

Ibrahim’s crime was to stand near a target, and his death was sanitized by the term ‘collateral damage.’

Now all that’s left is ruins / The child and the poet / Both orphans.

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.