Mohammed El-Kurd, a Palestinian writer who rose to prominence last year for speaking against land theft in Sheikh Jarrah, a neighborhood in the West Bank, visited campus on Jan. 21 for a question-and-answer session hosted by Students for Justice in Palestine.

Half an hour before the event started, the Mayo auditorium was populated with an enthusiastic, keffiyeh-clad audience. A copy of “Rifqa”, El-Kurd’s debut poetry collection, poked out of a woman’s purse, its pages interspersed with brightly colored sticky notes.

Many audience members arrived with their culture on full display. Maysoon Wazwaz, a Palestinian student at Metropolitan State University, sported a black, red-embroidered thobe, traditional wear for Palestinian women.

“I’m very excited,” Wazwaz said. “I love him.”

Others were less thrilled about El-Kurd’s appearance.

“MUST-SEE: SSI’s ‘welcome’ to Jew-Hater on Campus!” read an email sent to Students Supporting Israel’s mailing list. The email, which went so far as to describe El-Kurd as one of Twitter’s “most prolific antisemites,” contained images of posters plastered around campus, featuring a cartoon Pinocchio holding a sign that read “JEW-HATER.”

Such a reaction, while disappointing, is to be expected in conversations about Palestine. SSI was employing one of the occupation’s most effective tactics: branding anyone who supports the liberation of Palestine an antisemite.

Such a broad designation is flawed for several reasons — the most important being that not all Jews are zionists, nor are all zionists Jewish. Organizations like Jewish Voice for Peace are led by Jewish anti-zionists. Conversely, many Zionists are not Jewish but rather evangelical Christians. Any argument founded on the premise of equating Zionism with Judaism is grossly misleading.

The event, led by SJP president Nadia Aruri, was frequently humorous in tone despite the heavy subject matter.

Once El-Kurd was seated, he thanked the audience for coming out despite the cold and snow. “I don’t know if that’s normal for this city,” he said, giving rise to a burst of laughter from the audience.

El-Kurd addressed the weak points in Western coverage of Palestine, specifically calling out the media’s tendency to either victimize or vilify Palestinians to an extreme. He also noted that the framing of the mainstream narrative is often intentionally constructed to reinforce the trope of Palestinians as villains.

“You don’t have to address their red herrings,” El-Kurd said. “You are not the defendant here.”

This was in part a reference to El-Kurd’s interview with CNN last year regarding the land theft in Sheikh Jarrah. “Do you support the protests — the violent protests — that have erupted in solidarity with you and other families in your position?” he was asked.

“Do you support the violent dispossession of me and my family?” he responded.

El-Kurd’s pivot reflected the shift in the narrative that followed rampant Israeli violence in Palestine last May. This phenomenon of Palestinian voices directing the conversation about Israeli occupation was undoubtedly contributed to by the global social unrest sparked by the murder of George Floyd in 2020.

“I don’t think our campaign this year — the global shift in rhetoric, people taking to the streets all around the world — would have been possible had it not been for the uprisings following the murder of George Floyd,” El-Kurd said in a 2021 interview with Jewish Currents.

Something El-Kurd repeatedly circled back to in this session was the depth of the Palestinian identity, beyond the western clichés of either terrorist or helpless victim. He talked about Palestinians that inspired him, like poet Rashid Hussein and filmmaker Elia Suleiman, and the power of art to fuel movements and create collective meaning.

“We are allowed to exist outside of our victimhood,” El-Kurd said.

El-Kurd’s discussion was brilliant, but the importance of the event transcended its content. The mere presence of a prominent Palestinian writer on campus, sans any sort of tangible opposition (SSI’s meager postering operation aside), is monumental in a world where journalists can lose their jobs and students can be pulled out of class for being pro-Palestine.

I am not naive enough to be blindly optimistic about the future of the country my father emigrated from decades ago, nor to believe that a strong social media movement is enough to dismantle a colonial superpower.

What I do feel very strongly, however, is that the Israeli occupation’s vice grip on the dominant political narrative is more penetrable than ever. Their calculated usage of language — “defense” as opposed to “assault,” “eviction” as opposed to “ethnic cleansing,” “conflict” as opposed to “occupation” — is no longer enough to maintain the facade.

El-Kurd’s visit to campus was more than just an event. It was yet another step toward validating the Palestinian side of the story.

My boyfriend got it first. Then it was me, and then it was all of my friends.

The dreaded common cold: it makes you sick enough to feel awful, but not sick enough to feel justified in calling off work or skipping class. It’s truly the worst of both worlds.

Now that classes are in-person, however, some professors are amending their syllabi, requesting that students displaying symptoms of any respiratory illness, not just COVID-19, stay home.

Two years ago, this would have been unheard of, as the American obsession with constant productivity has created a stigma surrounding illness. Those who are ill are often expected to simply “tough it out” and still show up to class or work. This is seen as virtuous, despite the fact that the presence of the sick person may put others at risk of also becoming ill.

Now, circumstances seem to have changed. The visceral, human consequences of the pandemic have made us more wary than we have been, even of illnesses that aren’t COVID-19. My friends and I have adjusted or cancelled plans to account for colds, and anyone who has been sick in the last year and a half is well acquainted with the dirty glares that even the quietest of coughs will invite. Some Americans even plan to continue wearing masks when sick in the COVID-free future, which is a practice that has long been in place in parts of Asia.

Alongside the caution factor, however, there is another piece: The devastation we’ve all witnessed firsthand has made us more understanding. We’re less likely to pass judgement on our peers or colleagues for missing out on things while they’re sick. In fact, their absence almost warrants admiration for their responsibility and consideration of others.

It is more than unfortunate that it took an entire pandemic for this cultural shift to arise, but we’re better off for it. The world moves so fast –– the least we can do is take time to rest when we’re sick, for both our wellness and that of others.

Some may be quick to dismiss this idea or other self-care talk as saccharine or indicative of a sort of weakness. However, I fail to see the virtue that so many claim is inherent to a lifestyle characterized by constantly pushing oneself.

In a world where a person’s value is defined by their productivity and everyone is expected to be running at full speed at all times, self-care becomes rebellious.

But it shouldn’t be this way. It shouldn’t be normal or expected that we force ourselves to show up to school or work sick. It should be okay to take time for ourselves when we need it.

It should be okay because we have a certain responsibility to others. Cough and sneeze into your elbow; use hand sanitizer; better yet, wash your hands. Something that should be added to this list of generally acceptable health advice is don’t be afraid to stay home! No one likes being sick and you’re doing your friends a favor by not passing on your illness.

It should also be okay for the simple reason that we’re human. We have off days. Sometimes, we get sick. Sometimes, the weight of the world is so great that even getting out of bed is a chore. And that’s okay for the simple reason that our worth extends beyond what we are capable of accomplishing or checking off of our to-do lists. There is no virtue in making yourself miserable. Take care of yourself and your body; your to-do list can wait until tomorrow.

It’s that time of year once again. The chill of winter is creeping in, the sun is setting ludicrously early and some of us are feeling more lethargic and gloomy than usual.

I’ve lived in Minnesota for my entire life, and I am unable to remember a time when the transition to colder months didn’t affect my mood. I dread the end of daylight saving time — what I consider to be the de facto beginning of winter — every year because it saps my energy. I feel like a plant, fueled by sunshine; getting anything done in premature darkness requires motivation that is harder to come by.

Brain chemistry is to blame: The sunlight that we are so cruelly deprived of during the winter months stimulates the production of serotonin, a neurotransmitter that, among other things, stabilizes mood. Conversely, darkness stimulates the production of melatonin, which regulates sleep.

On top of shorter days, Minnesotans must face another challenge when it comes to the winter blues; bitter cold and harsh winter weather can exacerbate the dread some, including me, associate with winter.

Sometimes, I feel like a fake Minnesotan for having such an overwhelmingly negative perspective on winter. After all, our winters define us. What would Minne-snow-ta be without its hostile weather conditions?

This perceived fraudulence isn’t enough to stop me from daydreaming about warmer climates, however.

But what can we do, short of moving to a state whose weather is more forgiving?

We could get more light, perhaps. Researchers at the National Institutes of Health recognized the link between light (or a lack thereof) and seasonal depression back in the 1980s, and light therapy has since become a standard treatment. Those undergoing such treatment sit in front of a light box for 30 minutes or more each day, and typically do so well into spring. 

Though it’s been recognized and used as a first-line treatment for decades, light therapy seems now to be more popular than ever, likely due in no small part to the convenience and ubiquity of online shopping. “Light therapy lamp” is a Google search term that has, according to Google Trends data, been more popular than ever these last two winters. It is also on track to be just as highly searched this season, yielding thousands of hits and an overwhelming number of review lists: “Best Light Therapy Lamps That Actually Work,” one result from Prevention reads.

Studies have shown that light therapy eases symptoms of seasonal depression in about 70% of patients, according to the National Institutes of Health.

For those who aren’t so keen on purchasing a large (and sometimes expensive) light box for their homes, Mark Frye, a psychiatrist at the Mayo Clinic, offers some free alternatives. Maximizing daylight exposure is one potential solution: building walks into your everyday schedule, for example. Regularly interacting with friends and family as well as consistent exercise (Frye recommends at least three times a week for 30 minutes each) can also serve as mood boosters.

Though this is perhaps once again acting contrary to my Minnesotan ideals, I will also offer this: if you suffer from winter blues, don’t just grin and bear it. The isolation of the last year and uncertainty of the present have left many of us more emotionally fragile than we would otherwise be, and the added burden of battling symptoms of seasonal affective disorder makes things all the more difficult. 

For University of Minnesota students, Boynton Mental Health currently offers both in-person and virtual counseling and psychiatric visits for students. More information can be found on their website.