I was laughing. A friend said a joke, and the rest of us
laughed. We were at the point where all the little, silly things seemed funnier
than they actually were. Studying for hours and thinking about what you need to
study takes up a lot more brain power than expected. It puts you in this almost
“loopy” state of mind, where a simple joke becomes something much larger and
leads to tears flowing down your face.
We were still smiling as we found a study room to get
comfortable in, plugged in our devices, took our papers, began mentally
formulating a plan of what to tackle first. I mindlessly clicked on one of my
social media pages and let it load as I took out my highlighters. When I looked
down at my phone, time stopped.
Home.
Conversation became faint background noise.
Home.
Another headline leaving my head spinning. Another reminder
of the life I live that feels so separate from the rest of the world. In
situations like this, I feel so separate
and so divided all at once.
I forgot. Again. I forgot home.
Donald Trump would be announcing Jerusalem as the capital of
Israel on Wednesday. A 69 year situation tainted with lost families, closed
doors, abandoned memories on house walls, lost hope driving youth to giving up
the possibility of a future…it was all going to tossed to the side by a single
individual who had no connection to the region, no story, no background, no
roots.
Yet in one announcement, he plans to pull the roots of all
those who left their hearts with the memories of the families and land they
left behind.
Suddenly, the only thing that mattered was the fear I held
of what headlines I would see next. How many youth would retaliate and give up
a chance at a future because of their need to be heard? How many more mothers
would have to bury their sons because of a desire to hope that was so strong that they did not find value
in this life anymore, but they were hungry for a hope they believed existed in
another life, one greater than this.
While this post is a little different than what I normally
write about, this is an important part of having your life wrapped around
something that is as consuming as medical school. It is so easy to become so
focused on the task at hand that you forget to call a loved one, forget to
respond to a text, forget that it’s been three days instead of one. Sometimes
you forget that you are putting this work in for a greater cause, for a people
you want to dig hope out of the ground to offer them instead of bury them in
it.
Sometimes you forget that there are greater issues existing
than the upcoming exam you are fretting over.
“Are you okay?” My friend seated across from me asked.
“Yes,” I responded, my response so natural in this setting when
you are always telling yourself you are fine, you are okay, regardless of
whether you are or not.
I stepped outside, called my mother, needing to remember
home, to remember why I was here and not there.
To anyone who has a strong connection to somewhere outside
of where you live, you may understand this. You may understand the difficulty
to understand why you were chosen out
of the others to live a life of privilege, to have access to everything, to be
with your family and not worried that someone might not come home or someone
might be detained. You may understand that we
realize this is a problem of the privileged, that somehow guilt could be
privilege and we are aware of that. I am aware that that struggle will never be
mine. Realistically, where I am is where I am more useful. If I was home and
living the struggle first hand, perhaps I would not be able to serve and give
back in the way I dream to do with the education I am receiving right now.
Perhaps I would not be able to share their stories over and over again and have
the opportunity to introduce someone to the idea of Palestine for the first
time. Perhaps I would not be able to make a difference to communities living in
the Diaspora like I am.
But the guilt is real, and at times, that reality check is
necessary but painful. To be honest, it is challenging to remain connected to the
news when things can so easily move your feelings in a negative direction and
make it difficult to be motivated. so there is a certain amount of separation
that is necessary, and that is terrible
to say.
I am trying to remember. Each day, each week, I strive to
remember. And maybe each time I remember home, it’ll be easier to remind myself
that purpose brought me here. One
day, I will give back. And the reminders will become less and less painful as I
see that I have a chance to make a difference.
Until then, please pray for the safety of the Palestinian people
as we await what tomorrow holds. This idea of freedom and “peace” in the region
has continued to be brushed under the rug for way too long. One cannot offer
one country freedom at the expense of the loss of the rights of another.
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