Zionism and had little regard for, or simply could not see, its victims. Zionism’s victims. Even now, after all I have seen, my pen skips as I write this to you. I’m back in New York, sipping my morning coffee, Joan Armatrading in the background—“Are you for or against us, we are trying to get somewhere”—and just as over there, a beautiful sun is hanging in a cloudless sky. I’ve been home for a year, but sometimes I still dream that I am back in Palestine. Some of those dreams are pleasant—I am at peace on a cliff in Sakiya, I am folding green falafel into warm ka’ak al qud, I am feeling the
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