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As Palestinians mark the seventy-eighth anniversary of the Nakba, I found myself once again turning over old photographs and fragments of memory from my destroyed village, Majdal Al-Sadiq; a village erased during the creation of Israel, from which my father was expelled as an eight-year-old child.
On a day heavy with remembrance, grief, and inherited loss, I was confronted instead with yet another inflammatory article in an Israeli newspaper targeting me and several other activists.
