Sarah Lawrence Students Eternize 2 Years of Resistance for Justice in Palestine

Rosy Jackson ‘26

On Oct. 8, Sarah Lawrence Students for Justice in Palestine (SJP) held a “Walkout for Gaza,” a call to the campus for no business to carry on as usual during the genocide in Palestine. Rallies, workshops, teach-ins and mourning were conceived on every hour of that Wednesday, from the cold and rainy early morning to the windy and dry sunset. SJP organized free meals for participants and had a range of students, faculty, alumni and other community members speak, see and share, all on the anniversary of a day that marked the beginning of the accelerated genocide, to remember and commemorate the martyrs of Gaza.

The day of activism-driven learning and teaching was about “marking the occasion of two years of genocide, or accelerated genocide, and also about demonstrating continued support for SJP and divestment,” said the first anonymous source. In the interviews with attendees, who will stay anonymous to protect their safety amidst the federal government’s surveillance of students’ free speech, they found each other in the nucleus of their cause: an eagerness to know more and be better. 

The interviewees emphasized the importance of acknowledging that “everyone has their role to play,” in the fight for global liberation. SJP aims, through general meetings, protests, teach-ins, walk outs and other forms of organizing, to raise engaged intellectuals. “Being the engaged intellectual, it's not just about having the knowledge, but it's what you're doing with that knowledge,” a second anonymous source stated, continuing on to explain the consequences of reform over reimagining. During such violent and unthinkable atrocities, it is impossible to try to generate a fix—according to Al Jazeera’s most recent numbers, at least 68,000 Palestinians have been killed since Oct. 7, 2023, in addition to the thousands displaced, starved and trapped under rubble. SJP's intention is to pressure the college’s administration to divest financially from supporting Israeli settlerdom. In order to do that, it is essential to show students what connects their American institution to the imperial violence in Gaza. “You have to be an engaged intellectual, otherwise your education is useless,” said the second anonymous source.

On Oct. 8, a day after the second anniversary of the beginning of the accelerated genocide, several members of the community came together on Sarah Lawrence’s campus to teach, learn and listen about, not just Palestine’s pain—but the many other peoples who stand in solidarity with their struggles and steadfast collective fight for freedom. One of the teach-ins in the HUB, a campus space that has become a host of affinity for students of color, included a history of Sarah Lawrence’s involvement in aid after Hurricane Katrina in New Orleans, buying generators when the entire city was out of power. The room was filled up to every corner: students, faculty and others filled every chair, participants spilled onto the floor so much that the door could barely open to fit everyone who wanted to be in the room. SJP encouraged those participating in the walk out to leave their phones and computers outside of the teach-ins—every eye was glued to the speaker, some took notes by pencil and paper, and everyone shared laughs, sighs and tears as the day went on. 

Teach-ins also included detailed lessons on the history of colonialism and imperialism in Hawaii and the Ryukyu islands. Clear parallels were made from the United States and Japan’s involvement in the islands, to Israel’s occupation of Palestine and the presence of the US military throughout. Students for Justice in Palestine understands that their fight is not simple nor singular, and that the humanitarian crisis in Gaza is not unique or isolated. “The fact that even with all the visibility that Palestine and Gaza has right now, we still haven't been able to stop it. And what does that say about the other genocides which are being committed, who don't have this visibility?” In discussion, participants mentioned the ongoing and neglected genocide in both the Democratic Republic of the Congo and Sudan.

After the teach-ins, the movement shifted outdoors with a workshop on Capoeira, an Afro-Brazilian martial art, dance and music passed down orally from enslaved peoples. At one point, a campus safety officer stepped outside Westlands and watched over the South Lawn, inciting anxiety and frustration throughout the group. The person teaching the workshop paused the lesson to invite the campus safety officer to join, to which he excitedly obliged. The group seemed hesitant and confused, but warmed up to the officer as everyone shared giggles in the breakout groups of martial artistic choreography. At the end of the workshop, the teacher asked the group why they invited the officer to join in on the lesson—and silence fell on the lawn. It became another moment to recognize the importance of unity and inclusion, that it can often be more useful to meet someone than assume defeat. 

Education isn’t the only thing SJP hopes to provide students with a new outlook on, but the group also provides campus with a space for the community to confide in each other and support one another through an unprecedented period of despair and exhaustion.

“There are different means of maintaining that hope, and I think that building that community will be that push, but it will also be grounding and realistic at the same time,” stated a participant. 

There is the inconceivable grief of human lives and unrecoverable memories of home, and there is the suppressed grief of humanity in anyone who could possibly conceive of it: creating community is about blossoming back that humanity and not allowing Palestinian’s grief to be forgotten or evergoing, assuring that their lives will be honored and their memory will become immortal. 

As the sun crept behind the clouds over MacCracken, the group rounded up one last time to share shawarma and discuss the future of SJP. The question that the leadership asked the crowd of students—freshmen to seniors, newcomers and returners—was “what can we do to be better?” Hands raised across the group, and students shared differing perspectives and opinions, asking the leadership questions on what is possible on a campus like Sarah Lawrence to achieve a Free Palestine. 

The first anonymous source described what a “Free Palestine” looks like, saying “It is all of 48 Palestine, which is what they call Israel, the West Bank, Gaza being free, no apartheid, equal rights for everyone a secular state,” to which they asked themself, “but what is possible at this point?” 

After a few seconds of heavy silence, they exhaled and showed an Instagram post from Palestinian Youth Movement, a grassroots movement that advocates for liberation. The post shared captions from a video interview where a young Palestinian boy in Gaza asked the camera, ‘What bigger dream is there than to go home?’ Then, the silence returned and lingered before another day on campus rustled on, but his image remained exactly there, and every moment from then on. 

The conversation concluded on how to increase participation, engagement and involvement on campus, continuing to approach the goal of divestment from Israel. With advice from alumni, current experience from students and the continuous concern from everyone about what the movement will look like as time passes, these injustices only seem to embed further. Still the group moves forward. Beside the continued effort on campus, activism from the student movement expands all across New York. “In SJP we've been doing a lot of work with Bronx and Brooklyn jail support,” said the second interviewee. 

One main concern participants mentioned was the fear many students have about attending SJP meetings and events due to intimidation from their peers and administration. One voice rose from the crowd on the South Lawn to say, “I’m limited by my fear. Things are scary, but you have to act outside of that. I’ll be scared for another hour next week, and then I’ll stop being scared. We live inside a really atomized generation of people who need to talk to each other.” 

On Oct. 12, 2025, Saleh Aljafarawi, a 28-year-old Palestinian journalist, was killed by an Israeli militant gang in the city of Gaza, just a few days after a supposed ceasefire “peace” agreement was reached. In his will (translated from Arabic to English), he shared: “Do not let the word fall, and do not let the image fade. The word is a trust, and the image a message.”

SLC Phoenix