A medical referral for treatment abroad offers only dark uncertainty, since just a small percentage of cancer patients have been able to leave Gaza.

Modest, handmade decorations throughout our tent camp created a joyous atmosphere and delivered the holiday experience to my young son.

The occupation’s siege of Gaza has made it nearly impossible to obtain the diesel, motor oil, and replacement parts needed to keep vehicles running.

‘No life without my family / No mornings without my sun, without my home.’

What happens when the documents proving ownership of our home are destroyed, along with our home?

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

Basic necessities and life-saving medicine remain scarce, but mobile phones and luxury goods that no one can afford are available.

Returning home, I stopped, not because of any barrier but because of a feeling that I was about to cross into a place that no longer belonged to the living.

When I look at photos of my beloved cousins, it reminds me that I wasn’t there to comfort or honor them when they were martyred.

If Gaza lost all of its beautiful young and innocent children, women would make dozens more.

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.