'Not Me, Not Today': Prayers Of A Young Palestinian Dancer As She Passes Armed Checkpoints

To date, my grandmother breaks down each time she speaks of that old house near Jerusalem. It was built on my grandfather’s ancestral land. I have never been there but the house lives through my memory. I wish I could have experienced the patches of a large garden where there would be too many swings for all the children. But during the first intifada of 1987, it was overtaken by the Israeli forces. My entire family was locked up there for six days. They were only allowed to come out for the washroom.

The house eventually became an Israeli military base and now all we have are the black and memories from the photographs. My grandparents now stay in a place which is very close to the Israeli checkpoints, so their lives are always at risk. Passing through checkpoints has always been a risk for Palestinians and more after the Gaza genocide.

My university is half an hour away from my home in Bethlehem but due to the rigorous checking at point, it takes me almost three hours. And I always pray for my luck that ‘not me, not today’. They will keep stalling you but you’re doing nothing wrong, you’re just going to the University and not doing anything wrong. It affects your studies and career. I am late to classes, our teachers are late. Everything gets affected. It seems we are puppets, and they are always playing with us.

Amid all that is happening, the ethnic cleansing, the only way I have kept myself alive is through dance. For me, dance is both ways—for fun and resistance. We cannot separate these two. I am a Dabke dancer and Dabke has existed long before the occupation and over the years, it has become a form of resistance. Through dance, we claim what is ours—the land, traditions, and culture—we ought to express ourselves through this form.

Through dance, we share stories of our culture. We bring old songs and old traditions to people so that they can always remember their heritage and traditions. We wish to show the world that we exist and that we are still here. Not through violence but through dancing. We also teach young people Dabke, our traditional dance so that they grow up knowing their tradition and culture.

Given the extent of genocide and ethnic cleansing, my hope for a free Palestine lies with my people, who believe in Palestinian freedom. The US and UN are all against us and if we need to be free, a free Palestine, we have to believe in resistance and our people—the Palestinians.

(As told to Shreya Basak)