Farida Algoul surrounded by children in the Educational Tents Project. Photo: Reem Algoul

January 14, 2024, was a special day, my 28^th birthday. In a happier time, on the occasion of a previous birthday, my dear friend Yasser, my now-martyred friend, said, “There is nothing like this day.” So on this birthday, I celebrated my survival and reflected on my journey and its meaning.

With real hope for a ceasefire, I thought of the many losses I had endured, how I have survived 16 months of genocide, how much I have learned in the last year, and how all of this gave birth in June of 2024 to an urgent and necessary project: the Educational Tents Project.

Farida celebrates her 28th birthday. Photo: Reel Algoul

How the Educational Tents Project was born

I am “the Palestinian Survivor” from Gaza. I am a teacher, a writer, and a humanitarian worker. I was forced to leave my family in northern Gaza to protect my young brother, Adel, and my nephews and nieces — Mohammed, Shadi, Abdullah, Yasmeen, Noor, Reem, and Mohammed — as well as my grandparents.

We have all lost homes and the means of supporting ourselves, but I have chosen to live despite the death and destruction, determined to help my family. I have also worked tirelessly to support others in need: digging water wells, distributing food supplies, and offering aid to countless orphans, women, and children who have been left vulnerable by this catastrophe.

I also decided to add colors of resistance, “sumud,” and defiance to my life with a project dedicated to the education of our young people and planting hope where there was little. From there, the idea of the Educational Tents Project was born.

It was not in my plans to start a project under these difficult circumstances, but the urgent need to oppose despair with education prompted me to take this unexpected step.

Most people in the U.S. don’t know how well-educated we Palestinians are — that despite the horrors of the Nakba and the continuous oppression of apartheid and Israeli rule, 98% of Palestinians are literate, and that education in Gaza has produced writers, scientists, doctors, journalists, teachers, poets, and more! This is the precise reason why the educational system in Gaza has been a main target of the Israeli assault. Israeli genocide is meant to destroy our educated society, our hope, our present, and our future.

My fellow teacher, Samar and I, were determined to resist Israeli plans for obliterating our educational system. We started with one goal: We wished to save this generation of Palestinian children whose lives have been so unjustly altered by the Israeli assault. With just the sky to cover us, we started our “school,” with six children sitting on the ground. Within two weeks, we were teaching more than 70 children.

We desperately needed supplies and housing. A teacher named Mayar donated a blackboard and chalk. We were overjoyed! Gradually, our school grew, with more than 20 teachers from around Deir Al-Balah volunteering their time to a growing number of students.

I was now focused on obtaining the funding for tents and more supplies. In time I was able to secure support from a coalition of organizations including the IQRA campaign, Collective Life, and the Youth Displaced Movement. We also have a GoFundMe Campaign that continues to provide essential funding for supplies.

Thus, we were able to establish three large educational tents in the Deir Al-Balah area. Despite all the challenges, 1,800 children in Deir Al-Balah are now coming together every day to attend our tent schools, studying Arabic, English, math, and science. Wonderfully, across Deir Al-Balah, other organizations have also risen up to serve children’s educational needs.

Since the first day of school in the tents, on June 25, 2024, our students, who are as young as 5 and as old as 17, have enthusiastically dedicated themselves to school. They believe, as I do, that education is the most powerful tool we have for confronting crises and resisting the forces of oppression.

For these children, the educational tents are much more than a classroom and places to study; they are platforms for inspiration, for building ambition, and for looking toward a future of peace and prosperity in an environment that today lacks even the most basic necessities for life. They are a space for community, for distraction, and for solidarity. They are a refuge, a place where childhood can be reclaimed, where the children can express thoughts and feelings freely, and where their well-being is honored.

Education continues beyond the ceasefire

I was separated from my parents and other family members for 16 months. On Sunday, January 26, I was re-united at last with my family. We are rejoicing in being together again at last!

Now, after 16 months of relentless bombing and destruction, there is so much joy! We are at last free of the continuous sounds and the nauseating fear of bombs and drones and quadcopters.

Farida celebrating the ceasefire. Photo: Reem Algoul

Since the ceasefire, daily life is calmer but far from normal, and the effects of the war are still deeply felt. The physical destruction is massive and young and old alike are severely traumatized.

The availability of food has improved but there is never enough to eat and there are many other hardships due to lack of water, sanitation, and fuel. Sadly, the majority of our students have been orphaned. But we take care of each other in Gaza, and all our children are living with relatives. The need for continued support and aid remains crucial as people begin to rebuild their lives in the aftermath of Israel’s war on Palestinian civilians.

I dream of a better reality for my students. But in the meantime, they need the Educational Tents Project as much as before. Despite months of unimaginable chaos and horror, students are with their teachers and each other. This is where they are meant to be! And I am meant to be with them.

Our world is still filled with loss and uncertainty. We pray for permanent peace. And we call on the world to stand by our side as we rebuild our lives and our schools. In the meantime, we are here, we have survived, and we insist on our human right to education.