“Where are you from?”
I am Palestinian. But I’m also Canadian. I was born in Dubai, though I never really lived there. My parents, both Palestinian, returned to live in Ramallah, Palestine just after I was born. I grew up there until I was eight when we moved to Canada. At first, I thought it was just a long vacation; I didn’t really realize it was my new home. The homesickness soon set in, but it didn’t last. As a teenager, I began to adapt to Canada and my new culture. Between TV, movies, shopping, and concerts, I had plenty to keep me busy, and Palestine wasn’t at the forefront of my mind. It was far away and no longer a completely familiar place to me. Though we went back to our homeland quite often, it wasn’t until I was older that I realized the differences between the two countries and how I found myself stuck between the two.
When I was a teenager, my family and I moved back to live in Palestine for two years. Though I am Palestinian, I felt like an outsider. I spoke Arabic, but felt like I didn’t know how to be Palestinian and and that I didn’t belong there. But when I moved back to Canada again, I felt like an outsider there. I realized I no longer fit into the culture. I couldn’t adapt to Canadian culture any more, and couldn’t understand how anyone could be so far removed from the harsh reality of the occupation in Palestine. I felt that I couldn’t connect with other people and I missed my homeland. I went from one extreme to the other: from not being that interested in Palestine to wanting to study everything about it in complete and utter detail. I wanted to make up for the fact that I didn’t grow up there and wanted to learn more.
One of the ways I learned more was through my decision to study both visual arts and politics. When I began university, I wanted to go into communications and graphic design and decided to pursue a career in film, as I’d always dreamed of making a documentary about Palestine. I also studied politics at university. As a Palestinian, one acquires political awareness quite quickly as the illegal military occupation infiltrates every part of a Palestinian’s life.
I graduated in 2020, and soon after, COVID-19 struck the world. Like many others, I was stuck at home for a long time, with nothing in particular to do. I continued to explore my interests of learning more about Palestine and my identity through creating visual designs of the country and culture. I began to create collages by giving photographs or illustrations a contemporary twist. I wanted these collages to represent me and to tie visual pieces together of my childhood in Palestine and what I also saw there as an adult.
As I worked on these designs, my friends suggested to me: “You make all these designs at home, why don’t you just start posting them?” I didn’t think that anyone would be interested in my designs, but I went ahead anyway in posting. And that’s when I created the Pieces of Palestine Instagram account (@pieces.of.palestine).
Showing Palestine through my visual collages became particularly meaningful for me when I realized that the only photos you could find of Palestine online were from conflict and war photojournalism that showcased Palestinians as mere victims. I wanted to show something else about Palestine and change the narrative. The country has its political issues, but it is much more than that. It is also stunning architecture, beautiful old houses, luscious greenery, a rich culture, and a people who love to live life. I wanted the world to look at Palestine and the Middle East through a new lens.
I’ve always known that photography and film was gonna be my endgame. That’s why I decided to focus mainly on film. Today, I want to learn all the ins and outs of production, directing, and editing to understand how the film industry works and one day make my own documentary about Palestine. When the movie “Chronicle of a Disappearance” (available on Netflix), directed by Palestinian director Elia Suleiman was released, it was deeply revelational for me. The movie, addressing Suleiman’s return to Palestine, became a real source of inspiration for me to continue in this field.
Caring about Palestine isn’t an easy path and amidst the news and stories of the continued injustice, it sometimes feels discouraging and I tell myself, “What’s the point of trying to fix it? What can I possibly do?” But then I visit it again and realize how I’m not the only one doing something about it and that I am not allowed to feel discouraged. I just have to approach Palestine my way, which is through using media as a tool to change the dominant and stereotypical narrative of the country.
Today, I truly feel Palestinian, and through my art and my account ‘Pieces of Palestine,’ I’ve found my balance, creating a community around Palestine, its art, and its cause.
“Where are you from?”
I am Palestinian. But I’m also Canadian. I was born in Dubai, though I never really lived there. My parents, both Palestinian, returned to live in Ramallah, Palestine just after I was born. I grew up there until I was eight when we moved to Canada. At first, I thought it was just a long vacation; I didn’t really realize it was my new home. The homesickness soon set in, but it didn’t last. As a teenager, I began to adapt to Canada and my new culture. Between TV, movies, shopping, and concerts, I had plenty to keep me busy, and Palestine wasn’t at the forefront of my mind. It was far away and no longer a completely familiar place to me. Though we went back to our homeland quite often, it wasn’t until I was older that I realized the differences between the two countries and how I found myself stuck between the two.
When I was a teenager, my family and I moved back to live in Palestine for two years. Though I am Palestinian, I felt like an outsider. I spoke Arabic, but felt like I didn’t know how to be Palestinian and and that I didn’t belong there. But when I moved back to Canada again, I felt like an outsider there. I realized I no longer fit into the culture. I couldn’t adapt to Canadian culture any more, and couldn’t understand how anyone could be so far removed from the harsh reality of the occupation in Palestine. I felt that I couldn’t connect with other people and I missed my homeland. I went from one extreme to the other: from not being that interested in Palestine to wanting to study everything about it in complete and utter detail. I wanted to make up for the fact that I didn’t grow up there and wanted to learn more.
One of the ways I learned more was through my decision to study both visual arts and politics. When I began university, I wanted to go into communications and graphic design and decided to pursue a career in film, as I’d always dreamed of making a documentary about Palestine. I also studied politics at university. As a Palestinian, one acquires political awareness quite quickly as the illegal military occupation infiltrates every part of a Palestinian’s life.
I graduated in 2020, and soon after, COVID-19 struck the world. Like many others, I was stuck at home for a long time, with nothing in particular to do. I continued to explore my interests of learning more about Palestine and my identity through creating visual designs of the country and culture. I began to create collages by giving photographs or illustrations a contemporary twist. I wanted these collages to represent me and to tie visual pieces together of my childhood in Palestine and what I also saw there as an adult.
As I worked on these designs, my friends suggested to me: “You make all these designs at home, why don’t you just start posting them?” I didn’t think that anyone would be interested in my designs, but I went ahead anyway in posting. And that’s when I created the Pieces of Palestine Instagram account (@pieces.of.palestine).
Showing Palestine through my visual collages became particularly meaningful for me when I realized that the only photos you could find of Palestine online were from conflict and war photojournalism that showcased Palestinians as mere victims. I wanted to show something else about Palestine and change the narrative. The country has its political issues, but it is much more than that. It is also stunning architecture, beautiful old houses, luscious greenery, a rich culture, and a people who love to live life. I wanted the world to look at Palestine and the Middle East through a new lens.
I’ve always known that photography and film was gonna be my endgame. That’s why I decided to focus mainly on film. Today, I want to learn all the ins and outs of production, directing, and editing to understand how the film industry works and one day make my own documentary about Palestine. When the movie “Chronicle of a Disappearance” (available on Netflix), directed by Palestinian director Elia Suleiman was released, it was deeply revelational for me. The movie, addressing Suleiman’s return to Palestine, became a real source of inspiration for me to continue in this field.
Caring about Palestine isn’t an easy path and amidst the news and stories of the continued injustice, it sometimes feels discouraging and I tell myself, “What’s the point of trying to fix it? What can I possibly do?” But then I visit it again and realize how I’m not the only one doing something about it and that I am not allowed to feel discouraged. I just have to approach Palestine my way, which is through using media as a tool to change the dominant and stereotypical narrative of the country.
Today, I truly feel Palestinian, and through my art and my account ‘Pieces of Palestine,’ I’ve found my balance, creating a community around Palestine, its art, and its cause.
“Where are you from?”
I am Palestinian. But I’m also Canadian. I was born in Dubai, though I never really lived there. My parents, both Palestinian, returned to live in Ramallah, Palestine just after I was born. I grew up there until I was eight when we moved to Canada. At first, I thought it was just a long vacation; I didn’t really realize it was my new home. The homesickness soon set in, but it didn’t last. As a teenager, I began to adapt to Canada and my new culture. Between TV, movies, shopping, and concerts, I had plenty to keep me busy, and Palestine wasn’t at the forefront of my mind. It was far away and no longer a completely familiar place to me. Though we went back to our homeland quite often, it wasn’t until I was older that I realized the differences between the two countries and how I found myself stuck between the two.
One of the ways I learned more was through my decision to study both visual arts and politics. When I began university, I wanted to go into communications and graphic design and decided to pursue a career in film, as I’d always dreamed of making a documentary about Palestine. I also studied politics at university. As a Palestinian, one acquires political awareness quite quickly as the illegal military occupation infiltrates every part of a Palestinian’s life.
I graduated in 2020, and soon after, COVID-19 struck the world. Like many others, I was stuck at home for a long time, with nothing in particular to do. I continued to explore my interests of learning more about Palestine and my identity through creating visual designs of the country and culture. I began to create collages by giving photographs or illustrations a contemporary twist. I wanted these collages to represent me and to tie visual pieces together of my childhood in Palestine and what I also saw there as an adult.
I’ve always known that photography and film was gonna be my endgame. That’s why I decided to focus mainly on film. Today, I want to learn all the ins and outs of production, directing, and editing to understand how the film industry works and one day make my own documentary about Palestine. When the movie “Chronicle of a Disappearance” (available on Netflix), directed by Palestinian director Elia Suleiman was released, it was deeply revelational for me. The movie, addressing Suleiman’s return to Palestine, became a real source of inspiration for me to continue in this field.
When I was a teenager, my family and I moved back to live in Palestine for two years. Though I am Palestinian, I felt like an outsider. I spoke Arabic, but felt like I didn’t know how to be Palestinian and and that I didn’t belong there. But when I moved back to Canada again, I felt like an outsider there. I realized I no longer fit into the culture. I couldn’t adapt to Canadian culture any more, and couldn’t understand how anyone could be so far removed from the harsh reality of the occupation in Palestine. I felt that I couldn’t connect with other people and I missed my homeland. I went from one extreme to the other: from not being that interested in Palestine to wanting to study everything about it in complete and utter detail. I wanted to make up for the fact that I didn’t grow up there and wanted to learn more.
As I worked on these designs, my friends suggested to me: “You make all these designs at home, why don’t you just start posting them?” I didn’t think that anyone would be interested in my designs, but I went ahead anyway in posting. And that’s when I created the Pieces of Palestine Instagram account (@pieces.of.palestine).
Showing Palestine through my visual collages became particularly meaningful for me when I realized that the only photos you could find of Palestine online were from conflict and war photojournalism that showcased Palestinians as mere victims. I wanted to show something else about Palestine and change the narrative. The country has its political issues, but it is much more than that. It is also stunning architecture, beautiful old houses, luscious greenery, a rich culture, and a people who love to live life. I wanted the world to look at Palestine and the Middle East through a new lens.
Caring about Palestine isn’t an easy path and amidst the news and stories of the continued injustice, it sometimes feels discouraging and I tell myself, “What’s the point of trying to fix it? What can I possibly do?” But then I visit it again and realize how I’m not the only one doing something about it and that I am not allowed to feel discouraged. I just have to approach Palestine my way, which is through using media as a tool to change the dominant and stereotypical narrative of the country.
Today, I truly feel Palestinian, and through my art and my account ‘Pieces of Palestine,’ I’ve found my balance, creating a community around Palestine, its art, and its cause.
Sabine Hakim is French-Lebanese and was born and raised in France. After graduating with a Master’s degree in Entrepreneurship, she decided to learn more about her origins by living in Lebanon for almost a year. While reconnecting with her roots, she also realized the importance of art in her life. When Sabine moved back to France, she started volunteering at Meghterbin Mejtemiin and joined Al Rawiya as the Art Section Editor. She is currently pursuing a Master’s degree in Music Business Management in Paris.
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