I have seen images on my phone screen these past months that will haunt me as long as I live. Dead, injured, starving children and babies. Children crying in pain and in fear for their mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers. A small boy shaking in terror from the trauma of an airstrike. Scenes of unspeakable horror and violence that have left me feeling sick. Sometimes I skip over these photos and videos, afraid perhaps of what I will see next. But more often than not, I feel compelled to bear witness.
I know I am not alone. So many of us, privileged in our comfort and safety, have watched the suffering of the children of Gaza through social media, images mixed in jarringly with ads and memes and pictures of other people’s children, smiling and safe. It renders the horror even more immediate: these could be your kids, or mine, or any kid you know, but for the lottery of birth.
