Hanan will be contributing an essay on the grip power can exert over memory. Memory can be the most intimate territory over which one can exercise control, but it too is being genocide-d. As the world forces images of death and rubble and destruction, our memories of love and tenderness start to feel like another chapter of betrayal. The private act of remembering becomes emotionally challenging. Remembering and preserving how people fell in love, celebrated, prayed, walked in funerals, watched terrible football, and all these almost unnecessary memories, resists the erasure of how people lived in a place together. Eventually, the personal gets so tangled with the political as private memories defy intrusive narratives and preserve what machines of death and propaganda often try to erase or redefine. Haya's piece is deeply personal. Terrified of how physical destruction, especially on a massive scale spanning three years, not only erases buildings but also bleeds into our minds, poisoning memories and twisting or wiping out what we know to be true, she tries to document the formative moments of her childhood, the places she knew and the people who shaped who she is. Ultimately, the piece explores how holding on to memory can be a vital act of resisting erasure.
