News Based on facts, either observed and verified directly by the reporter, or reported and verified from knowledgeable sources.
Opinion Advocates for ideas and draws conclusions based on the author/producer’s interpretation of facts and data.
News Based on facts, either observed and verified directly by the reporter, or reported and verified from knowledgeable sources.
Opinion Advocates for ideas and draws conclusions based on the author/producer’s interpretation of facts and data.
The Gaza solidarity encampments at universities reimagine political movements as communities where we materialize our commitments to a better world. From co-leading Pitzer College’s encampment, I learned the power of the invitation: American students have been invited by our peers in Palestine to commit to creative, principled forms of protest that make our movement for peace impossible to ignore. For years students have demanded that our schools divest from Israeli apartheid. But even amid genocide, our institutions weren’t listening, so we reclaimed university space as a “liberated zone” in order to not be ignored.
When we set up the first tent of Pitzer’s encampment on April 26, 2024, I had no idea that leading a Gaza solidarity encampment would be the most impactful learning experience of my college career. Some of us were concerned about the risks of creating an encampment and potential consequences, including police violence, arrest, expulsion, and the possibility that we would not have enough people to execute the plan. We all knew that to make meaningful change we have to take risks, but as a small school we were concerned we didn’t have the numbers. The biggest risk of radical action is that you will be alone. The police and politicians try to isolate those who oppose war.
Over the past months, American leaders have referred to principled students as outside agitators or even terrorists in order to discredit our movement for the safety and dignity of all people. In our fear we almost called the encampment off, but we were reminded of advice from our fellow students leading encampments across the country. Understanding the power of the invitation, they told us: Build it and people will come.
And they were right. We began with two tents. Then there were 10. Then 25. Suddenly I was surrounded by people discussing books from the encampment library and sharing food, family histories, and visions of a freer world. We made decisions and led the encampment as a community, guided by a shared commitment to embodying the social justice values we learned in the classroom. Because the student movement for Gaza reimagines political movements as communities, we invited everyone—students, faculty, community members, and our board of trustees—to join our encampment as a welcoming space to learn, envision, and build a new world together. As our encampment grew, professors taught classes there and community members outside the college answered our invitation.
I was deeply moved by the number of people who joined the encampment, especially one couple who drove two hours to offer support. As they nervously approached, carrying homemade banana bread, an extra sleeping bag, and a Palestinian flag, we welcomed them and introduced ourselves, explaining why being in solidarity with Gaza matters to us. By then the two looked less nervous—more tired than anything. “We came here today,” they told us, “because there is nothing left for us to do. Yesterday, my sister’s child was killed in an airstrike on Rafah. He was 17 years old. It’s done. But we came to support you because as students at American universities, there’s something you can do.”
Supporting Palestinian freedom is especially important to me as a Jewish American. A year ago I traveled to the occupied West Bank and saw the violence of Israel’s occupation firsthand. I witnessed the suffering at military checkpoints, in tear-gassed refugee camps, and in Palestinian families’ daily confrontation with settler violence.
Afterward, I returned home to my safe, comfortable life, but I was fundamentally changed. I was transformed by the people I met in Palestine who, despite generations of suffering, violence, and oppression, imagine a world in which they are free. It is a privilege to join my Palestinian peers’ vision of a world that values the rights, humanity, and dreams of all people. As members of powerful political and academic institutions, we have leverage to end Palestinian suffering and invest in peace.
The encampments, as an emergency response to conditions in Gaza, are a powerful tool for negotiating divestment from Israel, but they are only one tactic in a much broader movement for collective Palestinian freedom. In response to the encampment, the board of trustees agreed to disclose Pitzer’s investments in military and weapons manufacturing.
With the support of our Palestinian classmates, another Jewish student and I led negotiations with our board of trustees chair, Don Gould. We positioned these negotiations as an invitation for Pitzer to live up to its social justice values as it did in 1986 when the school divested from South African apartheid. While disclosure is tangible progress in the fight for divestment, until the college severs ties with weapons manufacturers and companies profiting from Israeli apartheid, Pitzer remains complicit in crimes against humanity.
After the board agreed to a partial disclosure, we began planning for our graduation ceremony where students and allied faculty showed the president and board of trustees that the world’s call for Palestinian freedom cannot be ignored. As my classmates and I walked across the graduation stage, we handed our president and board of trustees Palestinian flags.
When students proudly raise the Palestinian flag at protests, at encampments, and during graduation, we do so because so many Palestinians can’t. By raising the Palestinian flag, we force our universities to confront their complicity in Israeli apartheid and the ongoing genocide in Gaza. Every flag handed to our president and trustees was an invitation for Pitzer and all institutions of higher education to practice the social justice values they teach, and to invest in books over bombs.
While I am so proud of the movement that students across the world have built, I think of Gaza, where there will be no graduations this year because every university has been destroyed. As flags pile like bodies at the feet of university presidents during our graduation ceremonies, our invitation still stands: Join us by investing in peace and divesting from weapons and apartheid. And, if you are disheartened and disturbed by a world that excuses genocide and apartheid, I invite you to join us in building a more liberated world in which all of us—including Palestinians—are free.
Bella Jacobs
is a recent graduate of Pitzer College, where she was a member of Jewish Voice for Peace and Students for Justice in Palestine.
|