I just had to cry

The wall felt the same as the one I held the day before. In Bethlehem the separation wall was made to protect me and separate me from people who looked different. In the Old City of Jerusalem, as I entered the Jewish Quarter, the mood and people shifted from vibrant and Palestinian to closed and Jewish. “Otzma Yehudi” (Jewish Power) party stickers plastered the streets and reminded me of the fascism centered around my identity, present there. When I got to the Western Wall, my friend had to go pray separately because of gender. All of these things are difficult to process together and I don’t know what to say. So I cry.