Sondos Al Sad
“There is no greater agony than bearing an untold story”
Maya Angelou
I was summoned to co-present in a workshop on the vital role of advocacy in primary care. It seemed I was chosen for this task due to a case study that hit close to home: Gaza.
Gaza the story that was stripped from its whole – Palestine- just as I was uprooted from both!
In the stark aftermath of the workshop, a bitter realization clawed its way into my consciousness: I held my breath and performed underwater. I didn’t welcome those who were attending, I did not thank those who were in the space. I did not introduce myself or provide closure as I passed the mic to the next person without a conclusion. I even failed to whisper my prayers before I started the dive!
The chilling realization of the immense emotional burden involved in merely recounting the human toll of this genocide is staggering. I shudder to contemplate the enduring weight of missed opportunities and fractured connections that will burden us for generations, perhaps even centuries, to come.
Trying to connect with people in that hall seemed to be a leisure I couldn’t afford as I was trying to swim against the mainstream of complacency and fallacy surrounding the loss of life. I couldn’t recognize any feelings while presenting an ancient fact to the modern heedlessness! I was numb, literally numb.
While my hindsight carried a brutal self-awareness, the echoes of my forgotten prayers brought back some of the warmth and compassion that once defined me but showed me how talking about Gaza to a room full of privileged Americans can be heavy! I wanted to ask any of them to pull me out so I could breathe, but I was not sure how to trust them.
How can the healthcare system mend such a schism between who we should be and who we currently are? How could a workshop change the landscape of a cruel and discriminatory system that values power over people? How may I catalyze a change in a system that is so resistant and deeply rooted in bigotry?
Every word left unspoken, every opportunity squandered remains a festering wound that refuses to heal. Palestine’s narrative resembles a geriatric pregnancy—deemed high-risk by many, and often a consequence of the system in place. Yet, it persists despite the flaws in our systems, flourishing with the potential to yield the fruits of truth, courage, and healing, with each new seed planted.
I wholeheartedly stand by a free Palestine even if all healthcare systems deem its labor a poor prognosis. I believe that once delivered, our communities shall heal and heed actual wellness.
