After nine long months of horrific crimes against humanity, we are witnessing the highest rates of child murder in any modern conflict of the 21st century. Israel’s attacks on Gaza have put the most sickening, violent and despicable acts of genocide onto the world stage for all to see.

Every day, sandwiched between posts of my friends’ lunches, memes and cat videos, I see Bisan saying hello from the rubble of Gaza – footage of gunfire going off as Palestinians run to aid trucks for food. I see bombs being set off in hospitals, schools and streetscapes.

I have seen innumerable examples of the governments of Australia and other Western nations funding, rubber-stamping and distorting the traumatic reality of Palestinians.

What’s been most bizarre for me is seeing the collective meltdowns and delusion of Zionism playing out across the social media profiles of millionaire celebrities such as Regina Spektor, Amy Schumer, Noah Schnapp and more.

All images: Bakri Mahmoud, Back2Back Media.

In the face of such overwhelming violence, censorship and political gaslighting, I have felt myself turn to hopelessness.

As a non-Palestinian, it is simple to scroll past videos discussing the conflict, to avoid the topic and remain wilfully ignorant of the details.

Desensitising myself to the videos of bombings, and ignoring the complicity of my tax dollars or companies I support is an easy option. Because what can I possibly do to help?

My friends have attended countless Palestine solidarity rallies, picketed local shipping docks to stop the flow of shipments to Israel, and participated in the international Boycotts, Divestments and Sanctions campaign.

I am eternally proud and grateful for their courage and sacrifice, particularly as members of the Queer community. Together, many activists across Australia – from university students to local councils – have joined in rejecting the despicable actions of the Australian government and its support of US and Israeli imperialism.

As someone who is physically disabled by Long COVID, and psychologically traumatised by police brutality and the environment of in-fighting and lateral violence in activist spaces, my contributions look different.

I have had to hone the skills and navigate the limitations that are unique to me, so I can, in every way possible, stand in solidarity with the people of Gaza and Palestine.

I have tried to financially contribute to support Palestinian refugees, I have made videos, sung songs for the children of Gaza, shared news and information, and made my stance clear to everyone who knows me.

I have moved motions in LGBTQIA+ organisations I’m a part of, and boycotted McDonald’s, Obela, Chemist Warehouse and Disney. I’ve written open letters to demand the humanity of Palestinian people.

Most importantly, I have turned my face towards the violence, allowed my heart to take in as much heartbreak as it can withstand, and embraced the full spectrum of emotions I hold in witnessing these crimes against humanity. I refuse to numb myself.

I honour my urge to make a difference however I can. I will not allow Zionism, imperialist governments or the state of Israel to take my compassion or empathy from me.

Compassion is the key to our collective liberation. Movements that rely on abuse, violence and terror to obtain power and control over others, heavily rely on our disconnection from their victims.

Sometimes, we disconnect ourselves because we fear them turning that violence on us. Other times it is because we fear our own complicity, guilt and shame.

Connecting myself to the experience of Palestinian people ties me to my own experiences of victimisation. Yet it also resonates with my capacity for survival.

A spirit sings to me of the moment where we triumph over injustice.

Where we live, finally safe, finally healed, thriving.

We are in the midst of a rental crisis, a cost of living crisis and we’re seeing heightened discrimination facing Trans folks.

Balancing the struggles that LGBTQIA+ working class people face under capitalism, with our place in the stand against genocide, might seem two things at odds.

But this pressure on us as a community is a tactic designed to overwhelm us. It’s designed to cut us off from our empathy and blame our oppression on The Other, instead of the ruling elites.

It is exactly this strategy that influenced a huge majority of the Australian public to blame the Referendum – designed to stand in solidarity with First Nations communities – as the cause of our troubles.

As if First Nations people, and the voice they so clearly deserve in our political system, was a threat to our livelihoods, instead of the millionaire landlords and billion-dollar corporations pricing us out of our own lives.

White supremacy is deeply embedded in the settler-colony of so-called Australia, but it does not have to win.

Living authentically and centring our values around a deep love for humanity will not just free Palestine. It will free us all.

“If you have come here to help me, you are wasting your time. But if you have come because your liberation is bound up with mine, then let us work together.”

– Lilla Watson, Gangulu woman and visual artist, in collaboration with Queensland Aboriginal Activist Group, 1970s.

To get more involved visit: Australian Palestine Advocacy Network, Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions Australia, El Rahman Inc., Free Palestine Australia.