I got to my poster tube and came across a poster marking the anniversary of the founding of the Abuelas de la Plaza de Mayo. And I started to think about my experiences in Palestine - censoring myself and that I carried with me. Having to think about what could lead to my interrogation and deportation from the country.
And I thought about how lucky I was that I could bring this poster, and my books, and a million little things showing my position about the last dictatorship and my support of those struggling for truth, justice and memory. I cherished that I did not have to think for a second about not bringing this poster for personal security reasons, but only maybe to save space in my stuffed bags.
I thought about time. And what it would have been like to travel to Argentina between 1976 and 1983. Or between other times, as those were not the only years of dictatorship or military control. Other times when I would have had to think about the political and safety implications of what I packed.
I hope that someday I will have this same moment of juxtaposition, but with the situated shifted. Where I will not have to think twice about bringing a guide book that says not just Israel but "Israel and the Palestinian Territories" on the cover. Where I will not have to consider throwing away my notes from Arabic class or the drawings the children in Deheishe refugee camp made me or the beautiful letter they wrote me when I left. That I will not have to think of those things that mean something to me as things than can be turned to do me harm.
I hope someday I will travel to Palestine and not have to turn my Tshirts with arabic inside out or put covers over my books. That transfers of knowledge and learning will be freely allowed. When opening up my heart to others will not be seen as an Israeli security risk.
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