Whether abroad or at home, impromptu or planned, I have felt compelled to document the people’s support for Palestine. During the peak of the protests, every flag, tag, or poster was a small victory, a crack in the facade. As the movement tapered off, I continued to encounter these small signs in the street, but they felt more hollow, as if abandoned by a powerful tide that had retreated back to sea. In the right light, I swear I can still see a glimmer, but the longer I look, the faded slogans only reflect the cruel truth.
However battered, the facade remains for now; only time will tell when it crumbles under its own weight.