What's your name?

"What's your name?" It's a dreaded question if you're flying into Tel Aviv and you have a name that sounds Palestinian/Arabic/Muslim. If your name sounds suspicious, you will be asked about your parents' and grandparents' names, too, in order to determine if you'll be allowed in Israel.

"What's your name?" is a constant refrain in Dheisheh Refugee Camp in Bethlehem, Palestine. 40% of Dheisheh's 17,000 inhabitants are children. "What's your name?" they call out to me in English. "What's your name?" I ask them, one by one. Mohammed, Mira, Fatoom, Mousa, Sadeel.

"What's your name?" After the 16-year-old Ahed Tamimi slapped an Israeli soldier who was illegally trespassing on her family's front yard, she and her mother were jailed for 8 months. The Tamimis of Nabi Saleh have become a symbol. A girl's physical outrage stops a gun.

"What's your name?" Mousa asks me before he teaches me to dance a traditional Palestinian dance. "I am Kremena," I tell him. "And you are now my teacher."

Bassem Tamimi, in front of a picture of his son who earlier this year was arrested for throwing stones at Israeli soldiers and served a prison sentence, Nabi Saleh, Palestine

I did not ask her name. I said "Shukran," thanking her for preparing a meal for us at Freedom Theater in Jenin Refugee Camp, Jenin, Palestine

Mousa, dancer at Shoruq cultural center and resident of the camp, Dheisheh Refugee Camp, Bethlehem, Palestine

Ammar, volunteer at Shoruq cultural center and resident of the camp, Dheisheh Refugee Camp, Bethlehem, Palestine

Sadeel, dancer at Shoruq cultural center and resident of the camp, Dheisheh Refugee Camp, Bethlehem, Palestine

Nasser with his son, owner of Ziad grocery store and resident of the camp, Dheisheh Refugee Camp, Bethlehem, Palestine