Why have people taken to video games to express solidarity with Palestine? VIDEO

The Stream

Why have people taken to video games to express solidarity with Palestine?

Amid Israel’s war on Gaza, video games have become a platform for expressing solidarity with Palestinians.

A rally for Palestine in the popular massive multiplayer online (MMO) game Roblox went viral, bringing attention to political activism in video games. These spaces have been utilised in protest before, particularly by the Black Lives Matter movement and pro-democracy protestors in Hong Kong. They can provide an outlet for participation for people unwilling or unable to take part in physical protests. Game developers can also create games themselves with an activist message. But questions remain over how much of a real-world impact these video game protests have, with critics accusing them of being merely performative clicktivism.

Presenter: Anelise Borges

Guests:
Jennifer Stavros – Culture journalist
Daniel Fernandez Galeote – Gamification Group researcher
Adelle Lin – Creative engineer

 https://www.aljazeera.com/program/the-stream/2024/3/22/why-have-people-taken-to-video-games-to-express-solidarity-with-palestine

 Protest and/or Grieving in Virtual Spaces

Art by Rami Jubran - Nurturing Life #Palestine

Art by Rami Jubran - Nurturing Life #Palestine

 

"So let us put the narrative of injustice away and find the joy, if it’s the last thing we ever do. " Tala Abu Rahmeh, Palestinian poet and writer

Wadi Qelt, Jericho. Photo by Ramzi Hazboun.

 [AS ALWAYS PLEASE GO TO THE LINK TO READ GOOD ARTICLES IN FULL: HELP SHAPE ALGORITHMS (and conversations) THAT EMPOWER DECENCY, DIGNITY, JUSTICE & PEACE... and hopefully Palestine]

http://www.thisweekinpalestine.com/details.php?id=4116&ed=223&edid=223

Contemporary Palestinian Literature In Search of Joy
By Tala Abu Rahmeh
 
“…there is no rain
anywhere, soft
enough for you.” Michael S. Harper

I used to have this recurring dream that I was wearing a red dress and walking down the steps to a jazz parlour in Harlem. It would take me a second to see through the smoke but then I would see him, John Coltrane, holding the saxophone and taunting gods with Naima. He would sway and I would wake up to the realisation that he’s been dead a while, and I no longer knew what my story was.

I always thought I knew what I would write about. My life has been cluttered with images of bombs and the small details of debris. I knew how to construct the perfect phrase about the exact sound of a shell escaping the tank and landing in the middle of my heart. The geography of my first book had the thick lines of the Apartheid Wall and the graves of all my grandparents, dead on the way and in exile.

Then, as destiny willed it, my mother died from cancer. As I tried to hold myself through grief it hit me, what if Palestine is no longer my story? What if this loud whimper matters more than all the other big bangs? I was slowly losing footing into my poems that suddenly became all about morphine and infested limbs.

Through my exploratory journey into modern Palestinian literature, I found myself to be an ever-found alien. The Pessoptimist by Emile Habibi defined my loneliness, Men in the Sun by Ghassan Kanafani unravelled a multi-faceted anger, and Madih Adh-Dhill Al-‘Ali by Mahmoud Darwish dusted the pieces of all that was broken in me and forced me to look at them, one by one. Nevertheless, I was still an alien. My pain over the loss of my mother had never transformed into a metaphor for a lost country. As much as I tried to reshape it, it still nudged me awake in one simple statement, “Your mother is dead.”

What is it about this country that made us feel guilty for being our particular selves? Why is it that in the past 60 years we have only accepted literature that held together the collective narrative, but never our own? Our modern history is built on singular stories of lost children and destroyed villages, so why do we matter less today? In the past 15 years, authors have tried to drag their details into the bigger picture, but even those novels were mostly written in English, with the Westerner being the target audience. Even this article is written in English (obviously).

Is it the Palestinian literary scene or the reader that needs an overhaul? I’m thinking both. You might wonder who I am to think that I can gather years of Palestinian literature and relay a statement, and you might be right to ask if it weren’t for the simple fact that I have not read one Palestinian book written during the past period that ignited the fire of my soul. Well, maybe I’m expecting too many particularities, but why is it that it’s easier for me to relate to a writer in Kansas that it is to one in the West Bank?

The stark reality is that we are hungry for personal stories, but not when they are written as part of our wider notion of representation. When the story is printed for the public to read, we always need it to look, feel, and sound a certain way, even if that obliterates it. Palestinian writers are always daunted by the potential of straying from their national identity, whatever that may mean. Every time I read a new Palestinian book, I feel the struggle to try to prove a commitment to the “cause” in the veins of the pages.

The individual, especially in the complex layers of literature, does not erase the collective, nor does it threaten the struggle for freedom. Moreover, it is not a selfish concept, simply because our entire existence is an individual endeavour. At the end of each day we are alone, and if that story is not worth telling, nothing is.

Maybe my contemporary argument is that we have lost our capacity for joy. The first time I had this epiphany was when I looked at a portrait taken of all the major jazz and blues artists in Harlem in 1958. During that time, Harlem was barely pulling through under the weight of oppression and brutality, and yet, those beautiful men and women stood around and took a picture that contained one thing more than any other, pure joy. Maybe it was because it was a good day, or maybe because each one of them played their instruments with such individuality that it helped them wade through that water.

Joy in Palestine is a modernist idea that we do not buy. Dancing at weddings or right through a checkpoint might make us happy, but happiness is fleeting, whereas joy is there to stay. Joy is not communal, but incredibly specific. It is the feeling of wonderment over what we are able to create with pens, hands, vocal chords, fingers, and minds. It is the quiet corner in our spirit that, when found, can never be lost or taken away. So let us put the narrative of injustice away and find the joy, if it’s the last thing we ever do.  

Tala Abu Rahmeh is a Ramallah-based young writer and professor of literature and creative writing. She holds an MFA in poetry from American University in Washington, DC. She is a regular contributor to Mashallah News Magazine, and her poems have been published in a number of magazines and books. She is also the cofounder of the blog The Big Olive: the Tales of Two Professors in Palestine, http://thebigolive.tumblr.com/. Tala can be reached at tala.ar@gmail.com.

See PDF www.thisweekinpalestine.com/i186/pdfs/article/contemporary_palestinian_literature.pdf

***

Tala Abu Rahmeh | Facebook

 Palestinian poet and writer

Originally from Yaffa, she was born in Amman in 1984.  

After moving to Ramallah, living through the second intifada,

 and graduating from Birzeit University, Tala moved to Washington
DC to study for a Masters of Fine Arts at American University.

Tala's work has earned recognition from Palestine to the US and she
has received the Eliav-Sirtawi Middle East Journalism Award and the 

Expressions of Nakba Competition 2008 Best Written Work Award. 

She will also be featured in the upcoming anthology 25 under 25, which is edited by 
Naomi Shihab Nye, and published by HarperCollins.

She has been a featured performer at the American Poetry Museum, Black Church Maraca, the Peace 
Mural, Katzen Arts Center at American University, and readings ranging from Mahmoud Darwish 
commemorations to Gaza events.

She is currently working on her first book poetry

International Day of Peace... Anyone, anywhere can celebrate Peace Day: September 21, annually

International Day of Peace

 

International Day of Peace: September 21, annually

Anyone, anywhere can celebrate Peace Day. Millions of people in all countries do. It can be as simple as lighting a candle at noon, or just sitting in silent meditation. Or it can involve getting your friends, family, organization, community or government engaged in a large event. The impact of millions of people in all parts of the world, coming together for one day of peace, is immense. Peace Day is also a Day of Ceasefire – personal or political. Take this opportunity to make peace in your own relationships as well as impact the larger conflicts of our time. Imagine what a whole Day of Peace would mean to humankind.

 

http://twitter.com/PeaceDay

The International Day of Peace,a.k.a. "Peace Day" provides an opportunity for individuals, organizations and nations to create practical acts of peace on a shared date.

It was established by a United Nations resolution in 1981 to coincide with the opening of the General Assembly. The first Peace Day was celebrated in September 1982.

In 2002 the General Assembly officially declared September 21 as the permanent date for the International Day of Peace.

By creating the International Day of Peace, the UN devoted itself to worldwide peace and encouraged all of mankind to work in cooperation for this goal. During the discussion of the U.N. Resolution that established the International Day of Peace, it was suggested that:

Peace Day should be devoted to commemorating and strengthening the ideals of peace both within and among all nations and peoples…This day will serve as a reminder to all peoples that our organization, with all its limitations, is a living instrument in the service of peace and should serve all of us here within the organization as a constantly pealing bell reminding us that our permanent commitment, above all interests or differences of any kind, is to peace.

Since its inception, Peace Day has marked our personal and planetary progress toward peace. It has grown to include millions of people in all parts of the world, and each year events are organized to commemorate and celebrate this day. Events range in scale from private gatherings to public concerts and forums where hundreds of thousands of people participate.

Anyone, anywhere can celebrate Peace Day. It can be as simple as lighting a candle at noon, or just sitting in silent meditation. Or it can involve getting your co-workers, organization, community or government engaged in a large event. The impact if millions of people in all parts of the world, coming together for one day of peace, is immense.

ATTENTION...

Ibtisam Barakat- Acclaimed author of Tasting the Sky

Problems, although, we dislike them greatly, come with gifts, making us behave and think in new, brave ways. . . break our fears. . . a problem simply tries to help, to say that things need attention and creative thinking. . . I want to take a minute to thank all the problems of the world for encouraging humanity to think and feel and wonder, not get lazy, dare, discover and change. . A problem is especially exquisite when a person is forced to stop blaming others, any others and all others, and see how they themselves have helped in creating the problem and can certainly help in solving it . . . :D :D
-- Ibtisam Barakat 2011

Great works of literature, theater, dance, fine art, and music reach us through a universal language that unites us regardless of background...

The problem we all live with — by Norman Rockwell (1894–1978), depicting an incident in the American Civil Rights struggle of the early 1960s, when Ruby Bridges entered first grade on the first day of court-ordered desegregation of New Orleans, Louisiana, public schools (November 14, 1960). Originally published in Look magazine.The painting is currently displayed in the West Wing of the White House, just outside President Obama's Oval Office.

"Like Rockwell's painting, art in all its forms often challenges us to consider new perspectives and to rethink how we see the world. This image still moves us with its simple poignancy, capturing a moment in American history that changed us forever. This is the power of the arts and humanities -- they speak to our condition and affirm our desire for something more and something better. Great works of literature, theater, dance, fine art, and music reach us through a universal language that unites us regardless of background, gender, race, or creed...

We must recognize the contributions of the arts and humanities not only by supporting the artists of today, but also by giving opportunities to the creative thinkers of tomorrow. Educators across our country are opening young minds, fostering innovation, and developing imaginations through arts education. Through their work, they are empowering our Nation's students with the ability to meet the challenges of a global marketplace. It is a well-rounded education for our children that will fuel our efforts to lead in a new economy where critical and creative thinking will be the keys to success."

The White House: Presidential Proclamation -- National Arts and Humanities Month, 2011