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Rock Throwing by Sara AlSouqi

Rock Throwing by Sara AlSouqi

We were taught that there are three types of rocks.

The first, is an aftermath of volcanic eruptions hardened like new born anger, raw and invincible
The second, is layers of time pressurized into staying where the softness of sand lives no more
The third, is change, that came when they were buried under extreme pressure,
And I think that I am finally starting to understand this metaphor

Changed, were the faces of the childhood they once smiled with like metamorphic rocks
But they forget that when placed under pressure, these rocks interlock with one another;

So they became Children of the Rocks
Holding rocks like they were parts of them, pieces of this earth an extension of their fists
This is how you hold a rock
Let it fit comfortably, unlike the life you are living
When I was younger, I was taught that there are three types of rocks, today I know that there is four
The fourth is a Palestinian child throwing everything they have with the mechanics of a teenage body
Your body is a vessel of resistance they will call violent
At the age of fourteen, you will be arrested for throwing rocks at  fully armed soldiers
Newspaper headlines will read
Rock throwing is an extremely dangerous crime
But no one
will tell you that growing up her lullabies were the sounds of tanks strolling down the streets,
& at the age of three, her first doll was made of rock, her first doll, did not cry nor smile, or break
They will not tell you that her walks to school were more like a soldier’s send off to war, showered with prayers and goodbyes with the lingering thought in her mother’s mind, that this might be the last time I will ever see her.

They will tell you that the earth beneath your feet is a weapon, no, it is not
Use as much as you will, this is what your skin was made of
Hold your rock like your pride, up high, tilt it back behind you along with every word that ever made you believe that resistance is a crime,
and throw it forward with every inch of power your fourteen-year-old arms hold,
Young girl, plant your face in middle of their sky like the sun, and demand that they look at your blinding rays with bare eyes
Show them, who you are, and where you have come from

& remind them of pride, that our teenage daughters shake the wits of their grown men
Now, let that sink in

And remember this,
There was once a 14-year-old girl, and she was the reason: rock throwing was an extremely dangerous crime

Sara Al Souqi
Edmonton, CANADA

Note: featured image by David Hernández

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