Excerpts from Teaching Palestine’s Poetry Teaching Guide

But I Heard the Drops 

By Sharif S. Elmusa

My father had a reservoir
of tears.
They trickled down
unseen.
But I heard the drops
drip
from his voice
like drops
from a loosened tap.
For 30 years
I heard them.

Sharif S. Elmusa is a scholar, poet, and writer. He is co-editor of Grape Leaves: A Century of Arab American Poetry and author of Flawed Landscape: Poems 1987–2008. Elmusa grew up in the refugee camp of Nuweimeh, near Jericho, after his family was expelled from their village in 1948. Until 1948 his father grew figs, grapes, and oranges outside Jaffa.

Teaching Idea for “But I Heard the Drops”

Tell students: Given what you’ve learned about Palestine-Israel, think about why the poet’s father cries. On your own, make a list of reasons a Palestinian might cry. Share reasons with the class. With a partner, write a poem that may begin “For 30 years, I cried” and tell who, what, or why they cried. You may choose to use lines from the original poem to move your poem forward, e.g., “They trickled down . . .”

If I Must Die 

By Refaat Alareer

If I must die,
you must live
to tell my story
to sell my things
to buy a piece of cloth
and some strings,
(make it white with a long tail)
so that a child, somewhere in Gaza
while looking heaven in the eye
awaiting his dad who left in a blaze —
and bid no one farewell
not even to his flesh
not even to himself —
sees the kite, my kite you made, flying up above
and thinks for a moment an angel is there
bringing back love
If I must die
let it bring hope
let it be a tale

Refaat Alareer was a professor of world literature and creative writing at the Islamic University of Gaza and the editor of Gaza Writes Back: Short Stories from Young Writers in Gaza, Palestine. He was killed by an IDF air strike on Dec. 6, 2023, along with his brother, nephew, his sister, and her three children.

Teaching Idea for “If I Must Die”

Refaat Alareer, a prominent Palestinian professor, poet, and writer, was killed in an air strike in northern Gaza, on Dec. 6, 2023. His brother, nephew, his sister, and her three children were also killed. In interviews before his death, he discussed the inhumane choices he and his wife and their six children faced: Stay in Gaza and risk death or flee without anywhere to go that was safe. “It’s an archetypal Palestinian image of a discussion, a debate on should we stay in one room, so if we die, we die together, or should we stay in separate rooms, so at least somebody can live?” 

In interviews, in writing, in his work with youth, Alareer attempted to bring the humanity of Palestinians to the world. “Feel their pain. Put yourself in their shoes.” He edited Gaza Writes Back: Short Stories from Young Writers in Gaza, Palestine (2014), a collection of 15 stories written by young Gazans living under Israeli occupation since 2009. He also co-edited Gaza Unsilenced, a 2015 collection of essays, photos, and poetry. He was a co-founder of We Are Not Numbers — a nonprofit organization that aims to amplify the voices of Palestinian youth living in Gaza and the refugee camps. Anticipating his death, he wrote the poem “If I Must Die.” The poem is read by Scottish actor Brian Cox on Democracy Now!; images of air strikes play alongside the poem. 

To understand the heartbreak of writing a poem in anticipation of death, students need to know about the author, his life, and his work. The best place to learn about him is at the We Are Not Numbers website, where students can read tributes to him from his students. 

Lift Refaat Alareer’s work of making Gaza visible by directing students to read the stories and poems he helped students construct. Ask students to wander through both the stories and the poetry section of the We Are Not Numbers website and read a few stories and poems. At the website, encourage students to note lines or phrases or entire pieces to share with the class. What do they learn about conditions in Gaza? What else do they want to know? After students share their findings in small groups or the whole class, ask them to write a one-page commentary about what they learned: Encourage them to include lines from the pieces as well as their own feelings. What should people know about living in Gaza?

Gate A-4

By Naomi Shihab Nye

Wandering around the Albuquerque Airport Terminal, after learning
my flight had been delayed four hours, I heard an announcement:
“If anyone in the vicinity of Gate A-4 understands any Arabic, please
come to the gate immediately.”

Well — one pauses these days. Gate A-4 was my own gate. I went there.

An older woman in full traditional Palestinian embroidered dress, just
like my grandma wore, was crumpled to the floor, wailing. “Help,”
said the flight agent. “Talk to her. What is her problem? We
told her the flight was going to be late and she did this.”

I stooped to put my arm around the woman and spoke haltingly.
“Shu-dow-a, Shu-bid-uck Habibti? Stani schway, Min fadlick, Shu-bit-
se-wee?” The minute she heard any words she knew, however poorly
used, she stopped crying. She thought the flight had been canceled
entirely. She needed to be in El Paso for major medical treatment the
next day. I said, “No, we’re fine, you’ll get there, just later, who is
picking you up? Let’s call him.”

We called her son, I spoke with him in English. I told him I would
stay with his mother till we got on the plane and ride next to
her. She talked to him. Then we called her other sons just
for the fun of it. Then we called my dad and he and she spoke for a while
in Arabic and found out of course they had 10 shared friends. Then I
thought just for the heck of it why not call some Palestinian poets I know
and let them chat with her? This all took up two hours.

She was laughing a lot by then. Telling of her life, patting my knee,
answering questions. She had pulled a sack of homemade mamool
cookies — little powdered sugar crumbly mounds stuffed with dates and
nuts — from her bag — and was offering them to all the women at the gate.
To my amazement, not a single woman declined one. It was like a
sacrament. The traveler from Argentina, the mom from California, the
lovely woman from Laredo — we were all covered with the same powdered
sugar. And smiling. There is no better cookie.

And then the airline broke out free apple juice from huge coolers and two
little girls from our flight ran around serving it and they
were covered with powdered sugar, too. And I noticed my new best friend —
by now we were holding hands — had a potted plant poking out of her bag,
some medicinal thing, with green furry leaves. Such an old country
tradition. Always carry a plant. Always stay rooted to somewhere.

And I looked around that gate of late and weary ones and I thought, This
is the world I want to live in. The shared world. Not a single person in that
gate — once the crying of confusion stopped — seemed apprehensive about
any other person. They took the cookies. I wanted to hug all those other women, too.
This can still happen anywhere. Not everything is lost.

Teaching Idea for “Gate A-4”

Naomi Shihab Nye is a Palestinian American poet who grew up in both Jerusalem and San Antonio, Texas. Nye has said that, for her, “the primary source of poetry has always been local life, random characters met on the streets, our own ancestry sifting down to us through small essential daily tasks.” In this lovely prose poem, Nye brings the kindness of the world into focus while describing an incident at an airport. Through the poem, she also explores Palestinian culture. 

Consider watching Naomi Shihab Nye reading the poem in a National Endowment for the Arts YouTube video before discussing the poem with students. After they’ve listened and read the poem on their own, ask what they learn from this moment of kindness, what they think it reveals about Palestinian culture. 

Nye writes, “This is the world I want to live in. The shared world. . . . This can still happen anywhere. Not everything is lost.” Invite students to write about a time they witnessed kindness. Begin by asking them to list moments of kindness and generosity. These might include incidents they experienced personally or that they watched unfold. Share those incidents to encourage more memories to surface. These are often small moments, so they need time to bubble up. Once students have lists, ask them to choose one and write. These may be in the form of a prose poem or a narrative. After they write, share these pieces and discuss what they have in common. How can they make these moments happen more frequently? What needs to change in our society — and in the world — to make these more common?

Because of Us

By Em Berry

This morning I learned
The English word gauze
(finely woven medical cloth)
Comes from the Arabic word […] Ghazza
Because Gazans have been skilled weavers for centuries

I wondered then

how many of our wounds
have been dressed
because of them

and how many of theirs
have been left open
because of us

Em Berry (@skinhungry) is an independent writer, poet, and artist from Aotearoa — New Zealand. An audio-visual representation of this poem was published by Al Jazeera and can be seen at https://youtu.be/TkdMCrNec5I.

Teaching Idea for “Because of Us”

Em Berry’s opening “This morning I learned . . .” is an evocative first line to pull students into their own writing. Ask students to write the words “This [morning/week/month/year] I learned . . .” and then quick-write what they have learned. If they are deep into learning about Palestine-Israel, they may write a list of what they have learned from the unit. If the lessons are in their infancy, they may choose to write about what they have learned about another subject — baseball, their family, school, etc. After they have written, and depending on the topic, students may pair-share or do a quick read-around to collect group knowledge of their learning. 

Read the poem aloud. Discuss the poem with students. Allow them time to sit with the poem by answering these questions: In this poem, Em Berry uses the word “gauze” to make a statement about the attacks on Gaza. Berry begins the poem “This morning I learned . . .” Who is the “our” and “us” in the poem? Who is “they/their”? What does the poet learn? How does she employ the word “gauze” to describe the war in Gaza? Quick-write a response to the poem and then discuss. 

After students have read and discussed the poem, they may return to the opening line or choose another line like “because of us” or “I wondered” and write a poem using what they have learned about the history of Palestine and Israel, Gaza, etc.