Posted March 3, 2024 by Alice Wong Guest Blog Posts

#AltTextPalestine: Showing Solidarity By Creating Access

Sarah Blahovec

Images and videos coming out of Gaza show the horror of the genocide every single day. Bombs rain down on the densely packed neighborhoods of Gaza. Palestinians of all ages are injured and killed by bombs and snipers, as well as by communicable diseases, starvation, cold, and the loss of medical treatments for their medical conditions due to the blockade. Doctors, nurses, and paramedics treat injured Palestinians in overwhelmed hospitals with few medical supplies. Palestinians search for water and food, even using animal feed to make “bread” in northern Gaza.

These images and videos also show the humanity of Palestinians at a time when Western governments and media are hell bent on dehumanizing them. We’ve connected with the stories of journalists like Motaz Azaiza, Wael al-Dahdouh, and Bisan Owda, who have risked their lives to document the genocide even as Israel has killed dozens of journalists and their families. Lama Jamous, a 9-year-old Palestinian journalist, has reported on the realities of a genocide instead of having a childhood. The humanity, bravery, and compassion of Palestinian men has been on display even as they are treated as less innocent or worthy of protection than women and children: from Khaled Nabhan describing his granddaughter Reem as “the soul of [his] soul,” to a Palestinian rescue worker rescuing a young girl from the rubble, telling her “you are alive, and beautiful as the moon;” to a brother offering his shirt to use as hijab to his sister who he rescued from a bombed building.

While my eyes and ears continue to bear witness to this genocide, US politicians and media insist that this is merely self-defense, that Israel is doing its best to protect civilians and minimize damage, that Palestinians are lying, and that these attacks aren’t as bad as they look. Like many others, I am gaslit by Western politicians and media who continue to insist that what I’m seeing isn’t ethnic cleansing, collective punishment, and genocide.

However, many of the images and videos about Palestine aren’t fully accessible to the disability community. Palestinians struggling to survive don’t have time to add alt text or captions to their images and videos. Protest and boycott organizers post inaccessible posters and logistical information, politicians and media post pictures of statements and stories, and videos in Arabic with English captions aren’t accessible to people who are blind or have low vision. In October, I began to make these images and videos accessible like other disabled activists such as Faatima Vasser (@FaatiTheStreet). But it was clear that we could have an even more organized approach. I drew upon the most important lesson I’ve learned from disabled organizers about how we can show up in solidarity. #AltTextPalestine was born, and the disability community once again showed that creating access is a tool for collective action.

More than One Way to Show Up

Over the years, I’ve learned that creating access is a critical way of showing up in solidarity. Accessibility work can be done from anywhere, and that’s particularly important for disabled people, as we can’t always be physically present.

Being physically present and visible is more highly valued by our capitalist society. We see this with the push to end remote work, school, events, and conferences. People who show up in person are regularly viewed as making more of an effort, and people who show up remotely are viewed as disengaged and lazy. Unfortunately, this attitude is present even in organizing spaces. Even more radical spaces often fail at accessibility, from using physically inaccessible spaces, to not offering hybrid options, to refusing to implement COVID safety protocols.

However, disabled organizers have practiced radical inclusion and community solidarity for a long time. This has mainly been created by Black, Brown, and queer disabled people who adhere to the tenets of disability justice.

One of the most transformative ways I’ve seen the disability community create access together was during the 2020 #BlackDisabledLivesMatter protest. This protest, organized by Keri Gray, Justine “Justice” Shorter, and Conchita Hernandez included 100 protesters, a remote support team of 40 volunteers, ASL interpreters, street medics, lawyers, and other personnel who showed up to protest the killing of George Floyd and ongoing police brutality.

While disabled activists were protesting in front of the White House, the remote support team captioned videos, added alternative text to images, published posts about police brutality on social media, and provided logistical support to protesters on the ground. This hybrid protest enabled those of us who couldn’t attend in person due to distance, disability, or COVID risk to still show up in solidarity with Black and Brown organizers. This radically inclusive experience taught an important lesson: there’s more than one way to show up and show solidarity.

Creating Access Together

When I created the #AltTextPalestine hashtag, it wasn’t something new and novel. It was simply a way to organize collective action that was already happening and that has been happening for years. Voluntarily adding alternative text and captions to social media isn’t new. Disability advocates had already created two hashtags for adding alt text to any content on social media: #Alt4Me to request alt text, and #Alt4You to add missing alt text. On Twitter, disabled people regularly ask for and receive help with filling in alt text from friends and community members when we need assistance. It’s part of our culture and recognizes our interdependence.

#AltTextPalestine became a tool to amplify the messages that Palestinians were sharing. It was an opportunity to create an accessible information channel, starting with alternative text for images, then expanding to closed captioning for videos, and even full transcripts with image descriptions for videos. Together, those of us who wanted to show up in solidarity could support Palestinians without centering ourselves. Creating collective access amplifies the messages of those who are directly impacted, as opposed to drowning them out with our own thoughts or opinions. It centers the voices of those who are directly impacted instead of speaking over them. Through #AltTextPalestine, we are amplifying the messages of Palestinians by making them accessible to as many people as possible.

This movement was created by a community of disabled people who were eager to use their expertise on social media accessibility to mobilize in solidarity with Palestinians. Soon, more people saw the hashtag and asked how they could get involved, so I created a toolkit with instructions on how to make images and videos accessible. #AltTextPalestine organizers contributed their favorite tips and resources, everything from helpful websites and apps to accessibility best practices.

The hashtag also became a way for people who were blind, had low vision, or needed support in adding alt text to request help with making content accessible. Soon, #AltTextPalestine participants started to add image descriptions and captions in other languages. They also immediately recognized the need for this action to mobilize beyond Palestine, and #AltTextCongo and #AltTextSudan were born. Hundreds of Twitter users have now volunteered to make images and videos accessible.

Sustaining Our Solidarity

In Gaza, we are watching a genocide happen in real time, and for many of us, we are watching as our governments are financing that genocide with our tax dollars while ignoring our demands to stop. The images, videos, and testimonies that Palestinians from Gaza have shared could be described as “unspeakable horrors,” but we are tasked with finding the words to describe them.

Creating access requires us to focus on every detail. We sit with the image or video, pay attention, absorb what is happening, and find the words to appropriately and respectfully describe what it conveys. Even if we’re not directly impacted by this genocide, absorbing these images and videos can impact us mentally, physically, and emotionally. But for those of us who are bearing witness, especially from countries that are enabling this genocide, it feels wrong to talk about “taking a break.” Palestinians don’t get a break from genocide. It is an immense privilege to be able to step away. What right do we have to feel overwhelmed when we are not directly impacted?

The subject of self-care has led to a lot of discourse and debate. In general, the concept of self-care has been watered down to often mean indulging in consumerism and luxury, as opposed to taking care of our mental, physical, and emotional needs. In the context of Palestine, some people have weaponized self-care to look away and not boycott, protest, bear any discomfort, or take any risks to fight for change. They’ve argued the risks are too big, they’re powerless to stop this genocide, and their action won’t make a difference. On the other hand, we can veer into performative, white Western guilt when we act like not taking any breaks will serve as a sort of penance for our complicity or lead to meaningful change.

What I feel will never compare to the grief and trauma that Palestinians are feeling. There are times where I have felt sick to my stomach and broken down sobbing and my chronic illness symptoms or migraines have been triggered. To me, this is a sign that it’s time to take a break to feel and process my emotions, and to take care of my body’s needs so that I can continue to show up sustainably in solidarity. Forcing ourselves to push through symptoms and emotional reactions will not accomplish meaningful change.

We need to find ways to sustain ourselves to ensure that we can continue to show up in solidarity. We should also give ourselves permission to find joy and pleasure in our lives wherever we can find it. Organizing for a free Palestine is not a short-term activity, and it’s not something that ends with a ceasefire. We must follow the lead of Palestinian organizers for years and decades to come, as this apartheid and occupation has lasted generations, and this genocide will impact Palestinians for generations to come.

This solidarity also doesn’t end with Palestine. We must show up in solidarity with all oppressed people and work together to amplify their message—whether that’s in Tigray, Congo, Sudan, or anywhere else where marginalized people can use our support and amplification. It is our responsibility to learn from them, center them, and show up in whatever way that we can to support them.

ABOUT

Sarah, a white woman with brown hair pulled back, smiling at the camera. She is wearing a green blazer and navy blouse.

Sarah Blahovec (she/her) is a queer disability activist and organizer. By day, her work is focused on removing barriers and protecting access to voting and civic participation. She works as a disability civic engagement expert and as co-founder and co-director of Disability Victory, which works to break down barriers to running for office for disabled people through accessible campaign training programs. Sarah is also a fiber crafter who is passionate about knitting, spinning, weaving, and sewing. She lives in northern Virginia with her geriatric miniature schnauzer, Harpo.