10 Guest Blog Series - Micala

Micala Khavari has been Beirut and Beyond's intern since May 2020 and is a valuable member of Beirut and Beyond’s team. She has her degree in International Studies from the University of Denver with minors in Writing Practices and Religious Studies. She has a heart for the Middle East, immigration, and talking your ear off about both! She also makes the weekly Friday Facts posts for Beirut and Beyond and continues to volunteer as a communications manager.

I’ve known about Palestine for most of my life–the image of it formed through hazy pop cultural references and the half-listened sermons of Evangelical pastors. Palestine, I knew at the age of 18, used to be Israel, until after World War II when Britain had promised the land to Zionists…(the end). Perhaps I had questioned what happened with the inhabitants of Palestine and shrugged it off, or perhaps I settled with this unfinished narrative and didn’t question it further. No matter, by the time college rolled around I had no conception of Palestinian refugees or the diaspora at all. I didn’t think I needed to have one either. 

Then, one morning in my Arabic 101 class, during my freshmen year, my professor invited a classmate to explain how hard it was for her Palestinian family to travel. The classmate matter a factly explained that Palestinians from Gaza and the West Bank’s visa only went to a few countries. The U.S., along with the majority of countries of the world accepts a Palestinian passport with a (very) hard-to-obtain Visa. This was mildly surprising to me, I knew Palestinians were cut off from the world in some way, and marginalized, but the details were not clear. What genuinely surprised me was what my Lebanese Arabic teacher said, she told us of the Palestinian refugee camps. She told us they stretched for my miles, and that there were millions of Palestinian refugees, but they couldn’t obtain Lebanese citizenship. The thought that millions of people had been stuck in this limbo–of existing nowhere and not belonging to any state–was horrifying. My teacher shook her head at this shame and started our lesson. 

I wish I could tell you this was a nice “I saw the light” narrative, but it’s not. I didn’t leave that class on fire to find out what to do. I didn’t ask my Palestinian classmate any questions, I didn’t look up what organizations there may be to join and help. Instead, like many a jaded children-of-the internet, I filed “Palestinian Refugees” in the same place as every seemingly unsolvable tragedy of my lifetime–far away until I had the time, or the talent, or whatever to actually be helpful. 

The next year, I wrote a final essay on Palestine and Israel and the failure of the UN in it all. I knew the facts now, but how could I help even a little? The UN was futile, I had no money as a college student, I couldn’t speak Arabic–I saw virtually no way of contributing. Even if I could help, should I? How many problems in the world would I be better at helping with than Palestinian refugees? And, shouldn’t I look into doing something that I had something actually do with? I’m half-Persian, but I didn’t want to become some “I can fix the Middle East!” white savior just because my interests, due to my heritage, leaned towards the region. I had no capability, and the problem was not mine, so I left my interest on the back burner. 

 In February 2020, I was scrolling through internship postings when I saw one that actually piqued my interest; an organization called Beirut and Beyond was looking for a social media intern. At first, looking at the job description, I was just delighted I could do anything at all; most internationally related jobs and internships relied on far more experience than I had. What really wrangled me though was the Beirut and Beyond website, the founder Suzann had been to the Camps several times, and with that time she had cultivated partners that directly empowered Palestinian refugees. These two things may seem normal for a non-profit, but it isn’t. From what I’ve seen, so much non-profit work is run by charismatic leaders, peddling tragedies and never getting into the dirt with the people they claim to work for. So many organizations are about ‘saving’ some group of people while simultaneously applauding donors, but never introducing donors or volunteers to the importance of whatever is being considered. And, resources are not directly given to projects that make whole and lift up the affected group of people. Instead, money is given to leaders who don’t know the actual problems being faced, and who are not a part of the affected populace. With Beirut and Beyond, it was clear that money is given to Palestinian refugee partners who know their communities and who know how to help their communities. Another thing that stood out to me about Beirut and Beyond was that it was big on educating people about Palestinian refugees. 

To me, it seemed most refugee-focused organizations were big on asking for money and not discussing with people why they should give money. Or, showing the most tragic parts of a situation but not showing the fullness of the people donors were helping. They weren’t showing the history, or culture or fully explaining what had occurred to put refugees in this situation. I liked that Beirut and Beyond held classes, and out materials to educate people so they could form opinions of Palestinian refugees, and what they could do about it. All of these things made me want to be a part of Beirut and Beyond. I didn’t feel like I was imposing my or any other non-Palestinian person’s ideas of Palestinian liberation. Instead, I felt like I was being given the opportunity to empower and assist people who deserve dignity and humanity. Now, almost three years after I joined Beirut and Beyond as an intern, I’ve stuck around to continue to try to do this; to contribute, even a little, to inform the people around me, and to try to make whole the lives of others. In the end, my supposed incompetencies did not matter, it does not matter if I can’t speak Arabic, or if I haven’t gotten to the Middle East. It matters that I want to genuinely help. If you want to help, we can find a way where your experiences can contribute! Contact us on our Facebook or instagram pages, or our website: Beirutandebyond.org


Suzann MollnerComment