The way I define
myself has been largely influenced, I think, by my parents (pictured above in the
Golan Heights). My most vivid memories of childhood take place in various
newsrooms; my mother was a college dropout-turned-journalist, and eventually a
managing editor. We lived separate from my dad, so on nights when she couldn’t
get a babysitter and the news was breaking she would haul us to the newsroom,
deposit us in whatever space was free and let us watch movies or wander around.
Sometimes I found myself in the back with the huge printing press, watching the
papers get cranked out for early-morning delivery. Because of her journalism
career, an awareness of the media was ingrained in me.
While my mom
gave me the newsroom, my dad gave me Palestine. My name is Arabic for “hope”; I
think they called me that because in a place like Palestine, it really means
something—maybe everything. As a Palestinian it became my responsibility to
follow the narratives the media was creating or perpetuating around Palestine,
because those narratives would define what much of the world would think of me
or my family. I’m blessed to be at Democracy Now!, a news organization that
humanizes Palestinians and counteracts dominant news narratives, from
Israel/Palestine to stop-and-frisk to feminist issues. Reader, writer,
Palestinian, daughter, sister, questioner, debater—that’s who I am.
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