Fadyeh Barakat guest commentator

When you were 16 years old, how many times did you ditch school to hang out with your friends at the mall? My cousin, 17, is more worried about whether he is going to make the mile trek to school every morning. A trip that once took him five to 10 minutes by car now takes him two or three hours because he has to walk through several checkpoints.

He doesn't mind the walk; he is more concerned about how he is going to make it through without being harassed, arrested or shot by an Israeli soldier. These are all legitimate concerns, because they've all happened to him before. He has never done anything to deserve this treatment; his only fault is being a Palestinian under Israeli occupation.

Often he makes it to the last checkpoint, where he is directed to go back home for no reason. Frustrating? Yes! But the boys trying to get to school have devised a plan: one will sacrifice himself at the checkpoint by causing a commotion. This may lead to him being beaten or arrested, but allows for his friends to cross the checkpoint and go to school that day. This is not astonishing because even I, holding a U.S. passport, was harassed and turned away at many checkpoints.

It's important that we are all aware of the unbearable conditions experienced by the Palestinians who have been living under occupation for 50 years.

With all the current controversy between the Palestinians and the Israelis, I thought I would share my experiences in Palestine this summer.

I know there is a chunk of the population who could care less about the Palestinian-Israeli conflict. But it's important that we are all aware of the unbearable conditions experienced by the Palestinians who have been living under occupation for 50 years.

My experience in Palestine is a real one; it's not meant to change opinions, create dispute or proliferate hate. Its sole purpose is to inform.

This summer I was given an opportunity to work with the National Palestinian Authority in collaboration with the United Nations Children's Fund and the World Health Organization in evaluating therapeutic programs in refugee camps.

In doing so, I interviewed many Palestinian children caught in the crossfire of hate and

violence, thus introducing me to an unknown world. Their pain became my pain, and their suffering my own. I heard stories of grief, frustration and humiliation. Many children were traumatized after witnessing the imprisonment of innocent loved ones; others watched helplessly as their homes were destroyed. They spoke painfully about rummaging through the remnants of their homes, piles of rubble, looking for anything salvageable. Many had memories of relentless curfews and feelings of hunger and isolation.

I spoke to children who witnessed the executions of their fathers and children whose classmates were murdered. I talked to kids whose family and friends were arrested or stripped of their clothes in front of their homes in order to publicly humiliate them. And I interviewed children who were physically injured, causing permanent disability and disfiguration.

The most difficult interview I had was with a 13-year-old boy who watched his brother nearly beaten to death at a checkpoint while walking to school. The anguish that surfaced as we discussed it was unbearable. I had nightmares after merely hearing about it.

It is not surprising that most of the children living in Palestine suffer from psychological difficulties like Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder and acute stress and anxiety disorders. Many experience reoccurring nightmares and are plagued by the reverberation of gunshots, air strikes and tanks. Many children confessed that they cry

themselves to sleep, a secret they are ashamed to share with friends and family. While some become hyper-vigilant, others are desensitized by the occurrences and claim to no longer be affected.

This is the daily struggle of a Palestinian child. They were born and raised in an environment of hate and aggression. Nevertheless, every child, despite their experiences, expressed their willingness and strength to prevail.

I witnessed the humiliation of Palestinians at checkpoints. One such incident is still vivid to me: A woman trying to cross a checkpoint was clutching the papers she needed to cross in one hand and holding her 4-year-old son in the other. When she finally reached the soldier at the checkpoint, he informed her that she would be able to pass, but her son would not. Frustrated, she broke down in tears and argued with the Israeli soldier. Finally, he shouted at her, took hold of her arm and threw her to the side.

The stories of Palestinians suffering at the hands of Israelis are vast. Hopefully, I will be able to tell a story of peace soon.

Fadyeh Barakat is a rehabilitation counseling graduate student. He can be reached at letters@wildcat.arizona.edu.