I asked members of the Palestinian community a few questions to learn about their lived experience as Palestinians in the diaspora. My goal was to learn how they think of Palestine, the language, and learn about their stories. This is a snapshot of some of them.
I was born and raised in Kuwait until the age of 11 and then we moved to Jordan. My parents left Palestine in the 50s, like so many others. Today, I live in Dubai, but my connection to Palestine is deeply rooted. It’s in my name, my stories, my food, and my sense of belonging. Even though I’ve never lived there, I carry Palestine in my heart every day, it’s more than geography, its legacy. It’s important to mention that when I was 2 years old, my grandmother from my father side took me with her to Jerusalem in the summer of 1967 and then war started, and I was stuck there and my family in Kuwait. My father had to risk his life to come get me from there while the war was going on. That is a history that I will never forget even that I was a child. We used to visit Jerusalem during summertime even after 1967 as our family lives in Jerusalem. Also, my father died young in 1976 outside Palestine, but we managed to bring him back to Jerusalem and bury him next to his parents’ graves near Al Aqsa Mosque. So, I am very well connected and rooted to Palestine.
Living in the diaspora means constantly navigating between worlds. I’ve had to adapt to different cultures and norms, but my Palestinian identity has only grown stronger. It has become something I consciously protect and nurture, rather than something I take for granted. I’ve learned to carry my identity with pride, even when it’s misunderstood or invisible to others. Over time, I’ve become more vocal, more intentional, and more connected to the Palestinian cause because I know how easily stories like ours can be erased if we let them but we will never let them as we our homeland lives in our heart and we will always be vocal about it.
It’s hard to choose, but I’d say our resilience and hospitality. There’s something so powerful about how we gather, how we feed one another, how we create beauty and joy even in the midst of hardship. Our culture is rooted in community, whether it’s through food, music, or stories—and that spirit is something I deeply treasure.
Cultural festivals, dabke performances, fundraisers for Palestine, and traditional weddings always bring a sense of home. These events remind me I’m not alone in this experience, that we’re part of a much larger, living history. Even just hearing our traditional songs being played or seeing the keffiyeh worn with pride, it grounds me.
We cook traditional dishes at home, maqloubeh, musakhan, knafeh. Arabic is spoken often, and family gatherings always include storytelling and jokes in our dialect. We observe cultural and religious holidays with a uniquely Palestinian flavour. Even the way we host guests, how we raise our children, and how we grieve, all of it holds echoes of Palestine. I also have many traditional Palestinian items spread around in my home that represent my beloved homeland, such as art pieces, decorative items, and many hand-embroidered pieces.
They’ve definitely adapted, sometimes out of necessity, sometimes out of creativity. I’ve seen musakhan made with whatever bread was locally available, and dabke performed in public parks or on community centre stages. Our Arabic mixes with other languages, and yet it survives. In adapting, we’ve also kept our culture alive and often found new ways to express it. I have a community of Palestinians living in the city that I am very connected to, and with that, we make sure that we keep many traditions alive among us and even share them with others who are non-Palestinians. An example we did was a gathering to prepare fresh-harvested olives and put them in containers. We also gathered to make Kaaek for the Eid and brought the children to experience this with us.
Supporting Palestinian artists, businesses, and causes is a way for me to live my identity, not just speak about it. I attend events, share stories, advocate for justice, and try to stay informed. Every small action, where I shop, what I post, who I amplify, is a way to keep the culture and the struggle visible. I currently run healing circles for women in Gaza through an NGO that I work with, and just to know that I can support them by listening and giving them some tools to help them makes me feel more connected to them and my homeland. I also participated in a special fundraising event last summer where we cycled through Europe to raise funds for children support in Palestine and to raise awareness of what is going on in Gaza,
Mostly through family, especially my parents who are very connected to their homeland and had many stories to share with us all through our childhood. Oral stories were passed down from my parents and grandparents. Their memories became mine. Over time, I also turned to books, films, documentaries, and later, social media, but it all started at home, with their voices, their recipes, their pain, and their pride. I also visited many times, but sadly, in the past few years, I have not been able to visit as much as I want to.
One of the biggest challenges is invisibility; people either don’t understand our story or reduce it to politics. There’s also fear of being silenced, misunderstood, or stereotyped. While I’ve found pockets of support, friends, communities, and organizations, it can still feel isolating at times. That’s why preserving our culture becomes both personal and political. I feel that we have the support of each other is a power and what keeps the hope of a free Palestine. Therefore, we need to put our differences aside and focus on the cause and most importantly to spread awareness to as many people as we can.
Yes, definitely. Older generations often carry a quieter, more private grief, shaped by direct displacement. Younger generations, especially with social media, are more vocal, global, and assertive. Both expressions are valid and powerful in their own way. What unites us is the love for Palestine and the refusal to let our story be forgotten. And one day, a Free Palestine!
I was born in Kuwait in Nov 1970. My parents are Palestinians. My mother was born in Kuwait before the Nakbah (the mass expulsion of Palestinians). Her father was sent from Yaffa to Kuwait on a scholarship to start at the first school in Kuwait. My grandfather (mother's dad) Ahmad Shihabeldeen married my grandmother Fatima Hadeed (Palestinian from Safad). Fatima Hadeed was educated in a British school in Jerusalem. Her dad moved from Safad to Jerusalem so the girls can get education, showing the importance of education. My mother was born in Kuwait 1942 and after completing the mission (starting the first schools in Kuwait), my grandparents went to back to Yaffa.
My mother remembers vividly the Nakbah (and remembers that she refused to sleep in the tents). From Yaffa they left to Egypt then Iraq. My jedu worked in the Arab bank, then to Syria and from there again to Kuwait. My grandparents from dad's side after the Nakbah, moved to Jordan, where my dad grew up then his family moved to Kuwait. Both my grandparents were from Yaffa they were distant relatives.
My mother went to the American University in Beirut and studied chemistry in the sixties, and my dad studied Engineering in Alexandria. Like most Palestinians, both sides of the family valued education. Palestinians felt that their only way to survive was through education and hard work.
The value of hard work and the importance of education were transferred to myself and both my sisters, Rasha and Reem. We always set the bar high and we were very ambitious from a very young age. I was a high achiever and won many academic awards in school. I went to Arabic government schools but those were still very competitive and emphasized grades and academic subjects.
When I lived in Kuwait as a child and teenager, I was treated as Kuwaiti in school (since my mother had a Kuwaiti passport), but our traditions and lifestyle were more influenced by the Palestinian culture. We ate Palestiian dishes, spoke the Palestinian dialect and listened to stories about Palestine and Palestinians and so on. We grew up hearing about the Nakba and the war we also learned about the occupation in school. Jedu Ahmad Shihebeldeen spoke always about the beauty of Yaffa and the port and about the orange farms there. Both my Tetas cooked for us Palestinian yummy dishes.
The emphasis on resilience and self-development. My parents were self-made, and even though my dad's business did well and we lived a privileged life in Kuwait they embraced the values of hard work and made sure we learned about our history and culture. My dad never put me in English school; he wanted me to learn in Arabic and have Arab friends (many of my friends were Palestinians and Egyptians). Kuwaitis were living in separate areas, so I was in the schools where other Arab expatriates went to.
In Kuwait, I grew up amongst a big community of Palestinians. All my cousins and friends spoke the Palestinian dialect, talked about Palestine, ate Palestinian food. There were many Palestinian events for fundraising since Kuwait was supportive of the Palestinian struggle in the 1980s. My parents attended those adult fundrasing events. Then in 1988, we immigrated to Canada to Montreal since my dad, before he passed away, had started the immigration papers. In Montreal, I went to McGill University and there I was active in the Arab and Palestinian events as well as associations. Some of these events were cultural by nature and few were political.
We often eat Palestinian food, even though I live in Dubai and grew up in Kuwait, Canada, and Dubai. I have never been to Palestine, but I have Palestinian art, Tatreez at home, and I speak Arabic with a Palestinian dialect. I'm very interested in Palestinian history and I promote the Palestinian culture as well talk about the injustice the Palestinians have been experiencing back home.
I feel very much Palestinian at heart and through my lifestyle. Anyone who visits my house will immediately notice the strong connection to the Palestinian art and culture, and anyone who talks to me notices the strong feelings I have towards the Palestinian struggle. In university, I participated in a Palestinian fashion show, and I was always active in events related to Palestine. My mother was also involved in the Palestinian community in Canada, and I remember being part of many events.
I have always been connected to the Palestinian cause because I heard the stories from my grandparents (my primary sources), they were very kind and impressive individuals, and went through hard times and experienced injustice, and watched their country being occupied. Today, with the genocide going on in Gaza and the occupation in Palestine, I feel I have to talk about the truth since I have many stories from my grandparents.
Through family and school at the time, since schools in Kuwait taught us about the history of Palestine and the wars that happened there as well as the occupation.
Culturally, I feel there has been a lot of effort in our communities in Kuwait, Montreal, and Dubai. I feel connected to my work in preserving culture and history has been powerful. Through online discussions, we connect the language to culture and history. I taught in the American School in Dubai, and I noticed that not much of our culture and history has been taught, so I created a project called Diwania. The idea was to create a safe environment for different age groups to connect in Arabic while learning about culture and history. I focused on the Palestinian culture since it's close to my heart and because of the injustice of what has been happening to the Palestinians. I feel preserving the Palestinian culture and identity is a form of resistance.
Yes, of course, there is a difference; the traditions are preserved, but they look different from one environment to another. When I visit my family in Canada, I notice how eager they are to speak Arabic and keep the Palestinian tradition, but it looks and feels somewhat different. The Palestinian traditions are naturally influenced by the place and the time we are living in, but that doesn't mean the Palestinians ever will lose their identity and traditions. The Palestinians in Jordan, for example, speak with a Jordanian dialect, and in Canada, some families are still following traditions that the Palestinians in Arab countries don't follow anymore, and vice versa. The thing I find in common over different Palestinian communities is how the Palestinians are proud of their identity and how resilient they are.
I grew up in Saudi Arabia and I currently live in the US. We used to visit Palestine every few summers and specifically Gaza. Palestine to me is my family and my home away from home. Most of my family lived in Palestine until recently.
Since I lived in Palestine for less than a year, My identity feels like it evolved or adapted more towards my Palestinian heritage over time, regardless of my current environment.
There is so much to our Palestinian culture that is amazing. My favorite part of Palestinian culture is the value of education and in particular higher education.
I don’t have access to these events very often. When I am surrounded by dabke or a Palestinian wedding celebration, it makes me so happy. Why? It warms my heart and reminds me that I am connected to a culture and heritage that is rich.
Sadly, I don’t think of anything specific. It may be so because we are so isolated from Palestinian communities.
It’s funny. There were times that I would visit family in Palestine and people would tell me that your language sounds “old.” I asked, “what do you mean?” They said you sound like how old people sound. So, actually the older Gazan language has been preserved rather than adapted because I only had my parents and the way they spoke available for me to hear where I grew up and lived.
My lifestyle choice of connecting and calling my family is actually the closes activity that reflects a direct connection to my Palestinian identify. This can be connecting to family that are in Palestine, or family also living in other parts of the diaspora.
For me personally, the primary method I learned my culture was through calling or visiting family.
The biggest challenge to expressing or preserving my identity is in the lack of opportunities in the diaspora, in particular in the US, where the environment towards Palestinians is hostile. I don’t feel that there are support systems where I live, but I suspect there may be some support systems in places with a larger population of Palestinians.
I recall how important my Palestinian identity was during my college years—from dabke events to Palestinian poetry readings. It made me feel so connected to something larger than myself. I think I’m now in the older generation, but I’m not actually surrounded by enough younger generation Palestinians to be able to answer that question.
My name is Hussam Hatem Abughazaleh, and I am a 54-year-old Palestinian born in Gaza. I did my Elementary Education in Gaza, then attended a Boarding School in England. Thereafter, I received my Bachelor’s Degree from Georgetown University in Washington, DC, and my Master’s Degree from SOAS at the University of London in England. Home has always been Gaza, even whilst studying abroad. I currently reside between Canada and the Middle East, but my wife and children are based in Dubai. My connection to Gaza is in my DNA, is eternal and not subject to geography.
Studying and living outside Palestine certainly had a positive impact on me as I was exposed to new cultures. I was able to learn Western culture in addition to my native Palestinian Arab culture and choose the best of both. The unfortunate consequence of being bi-cultural is that one often does not feel fully at home in either. However, it is better to be exposed to multiple cultures than a single culture especially in today’s World.
Pride, integrity, kindness, nationalism, and a long family history in Gaza. True Gazan values and traditions are very unique and admirable.
I am more interested in intellectual events, and learning our history and present are very important. I feel much pride when I see Gazan success stories where our people under repression were able to achieve success and development. Imagine what they can do if given an equal opportunity to others? Their ability to withstand the current atrocities and genocide being committed in Gaza is super human.
Our Gaza traditions are present in our daily lives across the board. Passing on what I learnt from my parents to my family is a virtue. Keeping the memories of my childhood in Gaza alive by talking about them. Naturally, the Gaza food is very important, especially when one’s elders were renowned gourmets and epicures in Gaza. Growing up with exceptional home-cooked food based on family recipes is a privilege.
I try to replicate the cuisine experiences of Gaza wherever I am. Sadly, though, sometimes they cannot be properly replicated as the ingredients are not the same outside Gaza. Gaza has very specific ingredients of a certain quality that sometimes even master chefs from Gaza cannot produce the same taste outside Gaza. Language is something that has never changed for me, and I continue to speak with my native Gaza accent and use my Gaza words.
I come from a family with extensive independent public service to Gaza. I grew up with my Father, the late Dr. Hatem Abughazaleh, a Cambridge University graduate, who had a profound effect on the People of Gaza with the humanitarian and public services he personally extended to the Gaza Strip across many sectors. I also had the privilege of growing up and witnessing the immense public and humanitarian services, as well as the dedicated leadership provided by the late Mayor Rashad Shawwa of Gaza. Such independent people are examples of the great public givers, the likes of whom we unfortunately lack nowadays. They were giant pillars who devoted their lives to Palestine in general and Gaza in particular.
Supporting Palestinian businesses is very important, assuming they are honest quality businesses, which the vast majority are. Sadly, humanitarian organizations are not getting the support they need, which should come from a much higher official level. On an individual level, we all try to help in our own ways. Showing the world the true face of Gaza and Palestine is very important. We are a very educated and capable nation with high aspirations. Our rights to live in freedom and peace in our homeland of Palestine are the same as the rights of the rest of the world in their own countries, and that is what we justly seek.
Of course, being born and raised in Gaza played a huge part in learning our culture. Orally is also important, as one learns much from listening to stories and facts told by others. Social media in today’s world also cements education, especially when used and chosen responsibly.
Sadly in the last short period, there seems to be a systemic attempt to erase Palestinian identity, and more disappointingly, in places that are supposed to protect and support it. It is, however, a futile attempt and is doomed to fail. Palestinian identity is older than many identities in the world, and we are a nation that has a long history and presence in Palestine.
The younger generation is doing a fantastic job of expressing their identities abroad, especially when most of them have never been to Palestine. This is what Palestinians are about. It is in their DNA. No one can erase Palestine. The older generation has experienced, in some shape or form, a more direct exposure to Palestine which in fact makes it so hard for them to realize what was once their daily lives but is not anymore after it was taken from them by force and they now live in diaspora. However, both old and young share the same attachment and sense of belonging to Palestine. No place on earth can ever be home for anyone away from their own home. Our home is Palestine, our home is Gaza.
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