why i'm going to gaza

As some readers may know, after spending the past semester writing about Gaza, I will be traveling there in real life from May 28 to June 5, with a solidarity delegation organized by CODEPINK, a women's antiwar organization.

In March, CODEPINK led a 60-person delegation to Gaza to celebrate International Women's Day with the women of Gaza. This summer's delegations (there will be at least two) will focus on children. We will be delivering school supplies and other aid, helping to build a playground near a school damaged by Israeli attacks, meeting with activists, UN staff, teachers, students and health workers, and doing lots of listening, documenting and witnessing.

Children and minors make up 56% of the population of Gaza. Most have never known a life without occupation and war, and many have spent their entire lives inside this tiny strip of land less than half the size of New York City. (In fact, the children of Gaza, in most cases the third or fourth generation of Palestinian refugees, have all grown up during the supposed "peace process"--meaning most of them cannot remember a time when they were not surrounded by a wall.) And yet, despite incredibly difficult circumstances, the Palestinian refugee population continues to have some of the highest rates of literacy, education of women and girls, and university and professional school graduation in the Arab world.

Although traveling halfway around the world to an area under military occupation is not a commitment to be taken lightly, in truth it was one of the easiest decisions I have ever made. I had been desperately wanting to go to Palestine after spending so much time writing about it. The rational empiricist in me tends to resist the idea that things happen for a reason, but when I received the email from Cindy Corrie (mother of murdered peace activist Rachel Corrie, who would have turned 30 this month) announcing this delegation, I very quickly became certain that I was supposed to go.

When I mentioned the trip to my friend B, she brought up the Goethe quote that goes something like "at the moment of commitment the entire universe conspires to assist you," and I thought, yes, that's exactly right. This is a universe-conspiracy of epic proportions. After spending an entire semester writing about characters breaking the siege of Gaza, the opportunity to spend a bit of my summer breaking the siege of Gaza just doesn't seem like something I'm supposed to pass up.

Plenty of my reasons for going, I'll admit, are self-motivated. To see for myself the places I have only been imagining for the past several months. To feel like I'm doing something concrete to support people who are living under extremely difficult conditions and who often feel like the whole world has turned its back on them. To spend time with people with whom I don't have to argue about who is the oppressor and who is the oppressed in this situation. To be able to come back to the US and speak with greater understanding and authority about the region and its people. To absorb and bring back with me just a tiny bit of that ineffable Palestinian spirit, the spark that allows people to survive and fight back after 60 years of oppression.

Mostly, I feel like Gaza has given me an incredible gift, really the best gift you can possibly give a writer, which is the opportunity to tell an amazing story. And I want to give something in return.

Quite a few people have asked me if this trip is dangerous, and it is hard to give an uncomplicated answer to this. Danger and safety are relative terms. I can say that this delegation is not designed to be nearly as high-risk as, say, the work done by activists in the International Solidarity Movement, and that it is being led by very experienced activists who have traveled to Palestine multiple times. I can say that as internationals, we are (theoretically) vastly more protected from the wrath of the Israeli military than any Palestinian is. I can say that absolutely no one should be discouraged from joining the delegation out of fear, because I'm sure it will be an amazing, powerful and inspiring experience.

That said, they are called the Occupied Territories for a reason. Even though the "war" is over, the Israeli military presence is still constant, as it was before Operation Cast Lead. This is an army, mind you, that has a record of shooting children, farmers, fishermen, documentary cameramen, civilians carrying white flags, paramedics, deaf people, and nonviolent, unarmed protesters. So the level of risk is certainly not zero. But it seems to me that an essential component of any westerner's trip to Palestine is the recognition that Palestinians live with this risk every day of their lives, and your life is not worth any more or less than theirs.

One of the questions asked on the application to go on the delegation is "What do you hope to gain from this experience?" At first glance this might seem an odd thing to ask. But, for me, it was an excellent reminder that this trip is not an act of charity, a benevolent bestowing of something upon a passive recipient, but an act of solidarity, a forging of connections between two equal partners. And I feel that any risk or danger involved in this trip is vastly, vastly outweighed by what I have to gain from the experience, as an activist, a writer and a human being.

I will continue to post updates on the trip here in the coming weeks and report from inside Gaza when I have internet access. In addition, I'm planning to film and photograph as much as possible. Watch this space for further updates. Free Palestine!