Does seeing someone as creative mean we also see them as more human?

This is a research question I developed during my PhD but never tested. (Any researcher out there, feel free to take it and run with it and I’d be happy to share some notes to help you get started).

But, perhaps you, dear reader, might join me in a little (non-academic) experiment.

What are the first words and images that come to your mind when you hear the word “Palestinian”?

I’m currently in Nablus, Palestine, visiting my husband’s family. Last week, the Israeli military entered a bustling market in the old city and killed and injured over 100 people, most of whom were innocent bystanders in the wrong place at the wrong time.

In its coverage of the incident, the New York Times did not disclose any humanising details of any of the victims (nor did it use the word “victims”).

Why does this matter? Because it’s hard to care about a number.

But what happens when I tell you about the nurse at a local hospital who rushed to help an incoming patient only to realise it was his own father and who, despite doing everything he could to save him, witnessed his father die in his arms. 

And so, in the spirit of humanizing the other while also sharing some creative inspiration, this week I wanted to highlight three creative Palestinians along with some lessons about creativity we can learn from them:

Sama’ Abdulhadi is a techno DJ gaining global recognition (one of her sets has over 11 million views). I find her irreverence refreshing and admire her determination, her resilience, and how unapologetic she is about being who she is and doing what she loves. 

Her work is also a reminder of the power of creative work to provide an outlet for healthy emotional expression. In this BBC documentary she said, “The only way that Palestinians are still gonna survive is that they let out all the anger. Otherwise they’re gonna go crazy.” That insight emerges from her own experience. In an interview, she said, “Techno saved me, because I was an angry person…It became this healthy ritual for me that, whenever I was angry, I just danced to techno, because it let it all out.”

I also appreciated an insight about creative constraints she shared in this short profile. While working as a sound designer in noisy Cairo, she “had to learn a lot of tricks of how to clean sound.” But, she added, “It inspired me a lot with music. Now, I actually add street sound and noise a lot to my sets. I add cars and honks and planes and stuff.” This is a small yet inspiring example of how to turn a constraint into a catalyst for creativity.

Sliman Mansour is a painter and an all around legend. Born before the state of Israel, he is 76 years old and still going strong, still producing art and engaging publicly. That alone is an inspiration for me, an invitation to envision an old age that is still creatively vibrant and productive. 

In this video, he also offers a valuable perspective: “I’m doing my art for my people — the Palestinians — so this is my audience. So I don’t care if [others] don’t like it. Because my audience likes it.” A helpful reminder for all creatives to keep laser focused on who your work is for and not give power to the opinions of critics who are not part of your audience. 

I highly recommend his moving TEDx talk where he shares amazing stories about how he became and developed as an artist across the decades, despite many obstacles. 

Aref F. Husseini is a social innovator and recent recipient of the Schwab Foundation for Social Entrepreneurship Social Innovator of the Year Award. Twenty years ago he founded Al Nayzak to promote science and technology skills among Palestinian youth. I find his integration of science and arts inspiring. He’s developed creative approaches like Scientific Theatre, which uses educational theatrical performances to convey science concepts and stimulate critical thinking, and a range of educational games. He also built a small interactive science museum which we’re hoping to visit with our daughter in the coming weeks. 

I was also inspired when I saw on his website that, in addition to being an engineer, he has also published multiple novels. His story reinforces that we don’t have to specialise in just one thing, but can let our creativity flow into many outlets and we don't need anyone's permission to do so. 

So there you have it. Experiment over. Have these words and images impacted the associations in your mind with Palestinians? Would you say that any re-humanisation has occurred? 

Who would you like to humanize by highlighting their creativity?