On Thursday, a young woman wound through fern-lined paths in Golden Gate Park, a kaffiyeh wrapped around her shoulders. It was just starting to get dark, and her step quickened. Smiling, she said she was experiencing two feelings: disbelief and excitement.
“I’m Arab-Muslim,” she said. “People are coming from all over the Bay for this.”
The path opened onto the entrance to the Academy of Sciences, buzzing with the excitement of hundreds of people making their way into the museum’s NightLife: Falastin event, part of the weekly NightLife series of evening parties at Cal Academy.
Inside, DJ Subeaux spun Palestinian hits next to a T-Rex skeleton. People danced the traditional dabke. Handmade chess sets and the intricate Palestinian embroidery Tatreez lined tables along the rainforest walk. San Francisco-based poet Janine Mogannam read a poem in front of antelope and zebra dioramas in the African Room, 100-odd listeners watching in silence.
Two friends, Odai Kaleh and Alice Saidawi, both young Palestinians born and raised in the Bay, ran into each other soon after the night started. They moved through the crowd, talking animatedly.
“I love it,” said Saidawi of the night. “To get that recognition and a whole night to celebrate us is just so important. Especially a culture that has been so othered—now people are coming together in solidarity. It’s a beautiful thing to see.”
Like many, the two friends were amazed that an institution like the Academy of Sciences would host a night celebrating Palestine. Over the past year, many local arts and historical organizations, from Yerba Buena Center for the Arts to San Francisco Museum of Modern Art, have either shied away from or outright silenced any discussion of Palestine in the workplace.
“I’ve seen Palestinians making Palestinian events,” said Saidawi, waving to a number of other friends as they passed. “Like, we go to Foster City and celebrate Palestine Day—but a non-Palestinian organization celebrating Palestine? That’s really big.”
“They’re setting the standard,” agreed Kaleh. He was eager to join Oakland-based group Al-Juthoor’s traditional folk dancing workshop in a few minutes.
The nearly sold-out night had an estimated 2,400 people in attendance. It’s the largest turn out NightLife has had since January.
Although NightLife has been well-known as a prime event for singles, one CalAcademy staffer said they were impressed seeing so many outright strangers smiling and talking to one another.
The staffer, who asked not to be named, also noted that some members of the museum’s executive leadership were in attendance.
“Everyone was so worried there would be protests,” added the staffer.
The staffer said that prior to the event, the museum received a slew of emails from people calling themselves “donors” stating that they would “withdraw support” if the Academy went through with NightLife: Falastin. The threat of losing funds did not deter organizers.
“We’ve gotten 400 letters of appreciation and gratitude,” said Lin Kung, co-organizer of NightLife for the past five years. Even in advance of NightLife: Falastin, the response from Arab and non-Arab communities all over the Bay has been incredibly heartwarming, said Kung. It’s rare to get more than a few notes of thanks before or after a NightLife event, she added.
And, as NightLife goer Kaleh said, the event already is setting a new standard for some institutions. Earlier that day, a science center in New Jersey reached out to Nightlife Co-ordinator Anacron about how it could organize a similar night at their museum.
It wasn’t the easiest event to organize, acknowledged, likening it to the early days of NightLife’s Pride-centered evenings, which Kung said were considered “controversial.” Now, the Pride nights are a staple, and typically the museum’s most popular events.
NightLife: Falastin’s popularity, Anacron, who asked to be identified only be his first name, said, “is indicative of the importance of really highlighting people and letting people see themselves in a space like this when they don’t typically get to.”
The dozen or so people who spoke with 48hills that evening confirmed that.
“I didn’t believe it. It didn’t even register in my head. It’s actually happening,” said Sara, a local vendor selling handmade goods by the aquarium. Sara, a Palestinian American, uses a pseudonym to avoid any travel issues. Every year, she flies to Palestine to volunteer, and doesn’t want to be flagged by security for the effort. This is the first year she didn’t make the trip home.
Walking by was Rama Khoury, a young woman who grew up in San Carlos. Khoury’s dad immigrated to the Bay Area from Palestine. Khoury was in awe—she had expected the event to be canceled.
“Our culture has always been invisible,” said Khoury. “Especially in the suburbs of San Carlos.”
The night ended in a massive dance party on the piazza, with some branching off for dabke dancing. Notes of congratulations and thanks continued to inundate Kung and Allen the following day.
“It always felt like no one cared,” said Khoury. People would just say, ‘Oh the Middle East is a mess.’ And move on. Now it feels like people are learning.”
Griffin Jones is a freelance reporter in San Francisco. She has worked at Mission Local, SF Bay View and LA Review of Books.
