“Your teacher needs teaching.” This quote appalled me because, although challenging ideas is crucial to democratic values, it’s dangerous to assume your perspective is the definitive truth.
When I saw that the University of Iowa’s Arabic Department was promoting a “Palestine Storytime and Craft” in the Iowa City Public Library (ICPL)’s Children’s Room, I was curious about what it would convey, especially as someone who has worked with children for almost a decade, was employed in my hometown library’s children’s department, and participated avidly in those programs growing up.
The comment sections on ICPL’s Instagram וותכנית המלגות Facebook pages were flooded with support and comments like “love this.”
The event was cosponsored by Iowans for Palestine (IFP) and a local activist.
Besides spreading misleading information at their weekly protests and campus events, IFP has worked on a piece with Al Jazeera, which Israel and others have repeatedly accused of bias. Additionally, IFP has promoted multiple fundraisers raising thousands of dollars for the Palestine Children’s Relief Fund, which has been accused by watchdogs of funneling money to Hamas.
In October 2024, a pro-Palestinian community member spoke at an Iowa City School Board meeting, where she declared, “How much time has been given in schools to understand the Indigenous People’s struggle for liberation from their occupiers or colonizers? All the while, an act of genocide is happening right now against the indigenous Palestinian people. The education system has been used before to hide or ignore the truth, lie or mislead against the many atrocities indigenous people have faced … The abuse of education risks leading people to dehumanize an already embattled indigenous population … Standing against colonialism and apartheid is to stand with truth to power.”
This same activist took on the role of storyteller for the library event. She first read My Olive Tree by Hazar Elbayya, recognized as a Booklist Best Book of the Year, followed by A Map for Falasteen, written by Maysa Odeh and illustrated by Aliaa Betawi, which has received multiple honors, including Kirkus Best Book of 2024 and Booklist Editors’ Choice 2024.
The presenter repeatedly emphasized that the one thing she wanted everyone to focus on was the adults’ attire in the stories. She encouraged them to compare it to what she was wearing: a black and white keffiyeh.
In My Olive Tree, Hazar Elbayya portrays Israel as the villain through the eyes of a young girl who dreams of growing an olive tree, a cherished symbol of peace in her community, while soldiers are described as “forcefully march[ing] into our land and destroy[ing] everything in their path.”
A Map for Falasteen opens with a young girl struggling to find her family’s homeland on a map, while her classmates confidently share their own stories. When she asks why “Palestine” isn’t shown, her teacher dismissively suggests it may not exist, prompting the girl to turn to her family in search of answers. After reading the first page, the community member said to the audience, “It’s not actually on the map — it exists, but it’s not on the map.”
In the story, the girl’s grandpa draws a map of “Palestine” and says, “Your teacher needs teaching. You can show this to her, so all of your friends can learn too.”
It was not hard at all to spot the keffiyehs, watermelons, and Palestinian flags throughout the books.
After she was finished reading, the organizer took the keffiyeh off her neck to show the children and their families. She said the pattern resembling a fishing net is a tribute to Palestinian fishermen. Another pattern, with squiggly lines, symbolizes olive leaves, which she described as an essential part of Palestinian culture. According to her, the straight lines represent the borders between the cities and villages of Palestine.
While the reader’s son — wearing a “Free Palestine” hoodie — and a few friends were notably engaged, the rest of the very young children seemed more interested in the craft portion of the event than the radical messaging.
It is a disheartening reality that many institutions, from college campuses to local libraries, are no longer prioritizing unbiased, meaningful education but instead are becoming platforms for harmful agendas.
This event is just one example of how young minds can be subtly influenced by radical messaging under the guise of innocent storytelling and community engagement.
As parents, educators, and responsible citizens, we must remain vigilant about what our children are exposed to. Just because a book has won awards does not mean it is objective, age-appropriate, or free from dangerous messaging.
It is our duty to ensure that young people are not preyed upon by pro-terrorist rhetoric or manipulated into adopting ideologies before they are old enough to critically assess them, especially when children are regularly weaponized by terrorists that try to appeal to them. Just look at how Hamas has used children to celebrate the deaths of babies held hostage — this is the destructive path that unchecked radicalization can lead to.
This article originally appeared in the Algemeiner.
