The kite holds a significant place in my childhood memories of growing up in occupied Palestine during the First Intifada. My uncles taught my siblings and me how to build and fly them, offering moments of joy amid curfews, school closures, and the persistent uncertainty of military incursions. In such conditions, the simple act of flying a kite became a quiet expression of resilience.

Decades later, the kite continues to serve as a symbol of hope for Palestinian children. In 2011, children in Gaza collectively flew over 12,000 kites, setting a Guinness World Record and affirming a shared spirit of perseverance in the face of ongoing hardship.

In this piece, a hand reaches toward a kite string, yet does not fully grasp it. This gesture reflects a sense of longing—an incomplete connection that speaks to the enduring aspiration for freedom and self-determination.

This work is further inspired by the poem If I Must Die by Refaat Alareer:

If I must die,
you must live
to tell my story
to sell my things
to buy a piece of cloth
and some strings,
(make it white with a long tail)
so that a child, somewhere in Gaza
while looking heaven in the eye
awaiting his dad who left in a blaze—
and bid no one farewell
not even to his flesh
not even to himself—
sees the kite, my kite you made, flying up above
and thinks for a moment an angel is there
bringing back love
If I must die
let it bring hope