
Introduction to Ceasefire: A Journal From Gaza
Written by Micheline Steele
There are times in our lives that we stop and wonder, how did I find myself here? Three years ago, I couldn’t have imagined that I’d be organizing and advocating for Gaza and the Palestinian people through Sarnians4Palestine but here I am, right where I’m supposed to be.
I’ve lived a comfortable middle-class life. Stepping in and out of my awareness of the painful injustice in this world as only those who don’t have to care can. I didn’t do this consciously, but I certainly didn’t challenge myself either.
I’m not proud to say that prior to October 7th, 2023, I knew very little about the Palestinian people or their history. For a variety of reasons, the events of that date compelled me to learn.
I had never heard the term Nabka. I had no idea that 750,000 Palestinians were displaced in the creation of the state of Israel. This was pivotal for me. I remember thinking, “How can this be? How can the protection of one people come at the cost of the lives of another?”
One very rainy Saturday in December 2023 I set out to participate in my first ever protest. I drove downtown to City Hall only to find that the protest had been cancelled because of the weather. I had the good fortune of meeting Layal Mansour that day. She is the heart and soul of Sarnians4Palestine and has become one of my dearest friends.
Layal is the granddaughter of Nakba survivors. Her grandparents were in their early twenties when they were forced from their village of Saffuriyya near Nasirah (Nazareth). You’ll learn more about their experience and its continuing impact on this Palestinian family in the account written by Layal’s sister, Malak Mansour.
At first, I was tentative in my participation. I knew that speaking up publicly for the Palestinian people was going to take me well outside of my comfort zone and I liked being comfortable. As my friendship with Layal and her family grew though, my understanding of the history and injustices faced by the Palestinian people deepened. I began helping with organizing tasks and my willingness to speak up grew. In August 2024, Layal and her family moved. Though she has remained an integral part of our group, we needed someone here in Sarnia to continue some of her work. I found myself in a position to help.
While, of course, this is a political issue, at its core it is one of humanity and basic human rights. Millions of Palestinians are stateless, living in refugee camps, deprived of their homes and their history. Human rights aren’t selective. As Nelson Mandela said, “We know too well that our freedom is incomplete without the freedom of the Palestinians.”
The stories, poems, and artwork included in this edition of Uproar are heartfelt voices from Palestinians in our community and beyond as well as those who strive to be allies. The voices of the Palestinians in this issue are a rare gift. Each one of these pieces has a story to tell. Each one is a call to our community and our world to hear voices so often silenced.
You’ll have the opportunity to read Ashraf’s letter and examine 9-year-old Jouri’s artwork. They come to you directly from Gaza. Tareq shares his story as the son of Nakba survivors displaced to Jordan.
Reflecting on the many stories I’ve heard, including those included here, I’m struck by the randomness of the lives we live by virtue of where we’re born and who we are. I believe our humanity is connected and that we have a responsibility to one another.
There is nothing exceptional about me or my situation. What is exceptional is the spirit and “sumud” (steadfastness) of the Palestinian people. The story of the Palestinian people has been suppressed. It’s well past time that we sit down and listen.











