My people are heroes

Day 120 and the bombs are still raining; the genocide is not waning.

Earlier today I watched this clip of a little Palestinian girl being asked about Palestine and whether she wants to leave towards somewhere safer. This little girl, with incredible clarity and conviction, described how she intended to go nowhere because that was her land she said. It's her people, her life. This clip reminded me of a conversation I had with a young Palestinian woman at a recent demonstration. She was telling me she was studying to become an architect here in Cyprus. "That's nice", I said. "And then what?", I followed. "Then I'm going back" she said. "Back to my village, my home, my people. We're not going anywhere." she concluded.

These also reminded me of some of my own family ^[1], some of which own land in Palestine. They received several offers over the years to sell, with the Israeli offers worth significantly more. Their answer? "Not for sale". "Not for sale" despite the fact that selling the land, especially to an Israeli, would mean their lives would improve significantly. Of course, stories like my family's are not unique.

In Palestinian culture there is a word to describe the above stories: Sumud.

Sumud translates to "steadfastness". It is used to highlight the strong perseverance shown by the Palestinian people in the face of a brutal occupation that strips them of their basic humanity and the myriad of obstacles that make daily life a struggle.

In a time where everything "has a price", a time where social media and social dynamics make it easier than ever to pursue selfish and often vacuous objectives, the concept and application of Sumud is an act of revolution.

"Sumud" speaks of a world where values & principles are not for sale. Where values and principles are not compromised. A world of people who don't think only about the now or about what's easy. It speaks of people we hear about in fables and movies. Heroes who despite all odds stacked against them, face their fate with equanimity and dignity and make us, even for a bit, yearn for an ounce of the same courage.

My people are heroes.

They remind me every day that greatness is not a single moment. Greatness is in each and every moment. That the best things in life, truly cannot be bought. These things are forged with principles, with values, with hardship, with loss, with tears, with love.

My people are heroes because despite all the devastation and hopelessness that surrounds them, they are the beacon of humanity. They are the light that touches our soul and make us feel alive.

My people are heroes because they see bullets and bombs stealing their voice and yet they give birth to storytellers who speak of their motherland's exploits.

My people are heroes because they build hope on ruins. Because they dream around ruins.

My people are heroes because its children drown the sound of bombs with their laughter. Their stomping sends a pulse to their motherland whose heart is bruised and sore.

My people didn’t ask to be heroes but the cruel occupation forced them to define the word “heroes”.

My people are heroes because in their land they see a mother and when she hurts, they bleed.

My people are heroes because fearlessness looks into their eyes first to find her courage.

My people are suffering, often in silence, often on their own. My people are hurting, deeper than anyone can know.

My people are heroes because they can hold back the tears about to roll through my eyes and replace them with awe; awe at witnessing a love so deep and raw.

My people need us, yet we need them even more.

My people are heroes.

My people are my heroes.