“Don’t say these words,” the policeman almost whispered. “It’s enough that you’re looking at me with such furious emotion in your eyes, but please don’t call me a traitor.” Read more about Waiting for Obama in Ramallah
I never thought of myself as a teacher, and when my mother used to suggest the profession to me as a kid, I would flinch. But lately, that’s exactly who I am finding myself becoming – not just as an answer to our obsession with the “what do you do?” question, but as a general identification of how I see myself. Read more about From Shatila to Ramallah: an introduction