i walked home tonight and realized that the streets were not full of blood. i claimed the sidewalk as my own; no one stopped to question me. i walked, and i realized i was perhaps too lucky. “deir yassin, deir yassin, have you heard of what happened at deir yassin? do you want to end up like those of deir yassin?” i have never had to answer this question. i have never had to flee for my life. i have never heard the sound of a gunshot… the sadness is not mine alone- it was not mine originally, i simply inherited it.
caminé a mi casa esta noche y me di cuenta que las calles no estaban llenas de sangre. reclamé la vereda como mía; nadie se detuvo a cuestionarme. caminé y me di cuenta que tal vez tuve mucha suerte. “deir yassin, deir yassin, ¿has escuchado de lo que pasó en deir yassin? ¿quieren terminar como los de deir yassin?” nunca he tenido que responder esa pregunta. nunca he tenido que correr por mi vida. nunca he escuchado el sonido del disparo de una pistola… la tristeza no es solamente mía - no era mía originalmente, simplemente la heredé.