Showing posts with label Mike Hanini Odetalla (Abu Odeh). Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mike Hanini Odetalla (Abu Odeh). Show all posts
Saturday, September 26, 2026

As Israeli bulldozers destroy more homes, uproot more trees, tear through orchards and fields, and alter a landscape that Palestinians have tended for generations, I find myself thinking about another kind of plow. A wooden one. And the hands of the man who held it. I think of my uncle—my aunt’s husband—Abu Ali, and of happier, simpler times....

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Mike Hanini Odetalla's uncle  Abu Ali  and aunt,  Jameela,  of Palestine  Abu Ali   a true story by  Mike Hanini Odetalla As Israeli bu...
Friday, September 18, 2026

“What Are You Doing to My Brother?” A true story by Mike Hanini Odetalla (Abu Odeh) ... Here was an elderly Orthodox rabbi, aboard a plane filled largely with Jewish passengers headed to Israel, publicly kissing the hand of a Palestinian Muslim and calling him brother.

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Good Morning! Rumaan Falasteen ( #Palestinian #Pomegranates )... photo from Mike Hanini Odetalla “What Are You Doing to My Brother?”   In O...
Monday, June 8, 2026

"We live in an age saturated with Holocaust books, films, documentaries, and lessons that teach us how dangerous dehumanization can be. We are reminded time and again that before people can be mistreated, displaced, or killed on a mass scale, they are first stripped of their humanity through words and imagery. And yet, when similar language is used today to describe Palestinians, much of the world remains silent—or worse, offers its support. If history has taught us anything, it is that when human beings are reduced to weeds, thorns, insects, or any other nuisance, the groundwork is being laid for people to accept what would otherwise be unacceptable. That is why the language matters. And that is why the silence is so troubling." ~ Mike Odetalla

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Mike Hanini Odetalla tspoSnerodf2f7m4000m15847f1l64fh32m5a97380l7tu1f0g4u14518m4f   · Morning reflections regarding Gaza with coffee ...
Saturday, June 6, 2026

"Homes can be demolished. Walls can be reduced to rubble. Entire families can be scattered across the world. But roots run deep... And sometimes, from beneath the wreckage, life emerges to remind us that memory, belonging, and hope refuse to die." Mike Hanini Odetalla

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Mike Hanini Odetalla p t o n e d s r o S 3   a g u h 9 6 c 1 i a 5 t 0 1 0 t : 6 1 9 l h 2 4 9 l y   3 3 u a M 0 1 2 7 3 u M P   7 8   g 6 i...
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Thursday, May 28, 2026

"I was just a boy when I learned that my family would soon be leaving my beloved homeland of Palestine to begin a new life in America. To the adults, it was a practical decision—one made in search of opportunity and a better future, away from the suffocating Israeli occupation & oppression. But to me, it felt as though my entire world was being torn away. How could I explain what Palestine meant to a child? It was not merely a place on a map. It was the hills that encircled our small village of Beit Hanina and served as my endless playground. It was the olive and fruit orchards where I wandered freely beneath the sun. It was the caves hidden among the rocky slopes, the handmade kites dancing in the wind, and the familiar scent of earth after the rain. It was home." Mike Odetalla

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Mike Hanini Odetalla oodStpnesricham3u5c1h8l0t0i32265m9143cl9utci8m1327t603251574   ·   The Boy Who Tried to Stay By Mike Odetalla ...