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Arab-American Teacher Denied Re-entry to Israel
I am an American English teacher in the occupied West Bank. I have 90 ninth-grade students. Like teachers everywhere, my days are filled with lesson plans, grading, and wrangling unruly teenagers into attentive groups.
As a teacher, the daily emails I receive from students usually consist of questions clarifying homework or project assignments. I never imagined that the daily emails flooding my inbox would be full of questions from confused and upset students asking where I am and begging me to return.
At the beginning of January, upon re-entering the West Bank from Jordan in order to teach my second semester at Ramallah Friends School, an American-owned Christian institution, Israeli border agents denied me entry. Despite having a valid one-year multiple-entry visa from the Israeli Ministry of Interior, after a seven-hour wait, I was put on a bus back to Jordan. I was given no reason for the denial of entry and did not receive my American passport from the authorities until I got through Jordanian border control.
Surprised Jordanian officers asked me questions that I could not answer. “But you have a visa. You have a residence permit. You have permission to work. Why?” I had no answers.
I knew that the Israelis had stepped up their practice of denying entry to American citizens of Palestinian origin, or giving “Judea and Samaria” stamps to foreign nationals working in the West Bank. However, I did not imagine that, having entered before, having never overstayed a visa, and having never been detained, arrested, or anything of the sort, rejection at the border would be a risk that day, particularly given my Israeli-issued work permit.
Colleagues, my principal, the director of the Friends School, the school’s USAID contact, and even friends who are familiar with entry denial cases were astonished. I, of course, reminded them and in turn, had to remind myself, that it is impossible to logically explain or predict arbitrary Israeli “security decisions” at the border.
The Israeli Ministry of Interior, which issued my visa, had told me that border officials listed “security” as the reason for my denial, but that they could not elaborate. Then in response to inquiries made by members of the U.S. House of Representatives, weeks later, border officials reported that the denial was based on my refusal to cooperate with security — even though I spent a full seven hours at the Allenby crossing answering every question I was asked.
Almost two months later, while the attorney I had hired was making inquiries on my behalf, my congresswoman, Sheila Jackson Lee — who represents the district of Texas where my family now lives — contacted the Israeli Embassy in Washington. On the recommendation of the Israeli Ministry of Foreign Affairs, I attempted to re-enter through Ben Gurion airport in Tel Aviv Feb. 25 — two months to the day after I had left in the first place. After being questioned twice — and verifying after each interview that I had answered the questions satisfactorily this time — I was told that I was being denied entry again. I was kept in a detention center overnight and put on the first flight back to Amman the next morning.
Stranded in Amman once again, I still have no real answers. What I do know is that denying entry to people like me — a 25-year-old college-educated American woman with no criminal record — is further evidence of the way that Israel systematically discriminates against American citizens, not to mention Palestinians, on the basis of race and politics, not security. The Ministry of Interior insists that there are no problems with my visa itself — all the while saying they cannot guarantee my entry.
I also know that had I simply not gone on a 10-day vacation, had I not trusted that a valid multiple-entry visa would be upheld, had I treated it as a single-entry visa, had I just stayed put — I would still be teaching my students. And my students, in turn, would have been spared two months of rotating substitutes and an added daily reminder of how little control they have over their own lives and their right to a stable, quality education.
Where is the reason and, more importantly, justice in forcing an entire population to fear that every time they move — be it across checkpoints or borders — they put their ability to return to their homes and jobs at risk?
At a time when Israel is pursuing visa waivers for its citizens, with U.S. Reps. Brad Sherman and Ted Poe promoting the Visa Waiver for Israel Act in the House of Representatives, Israel is not only denying American citizens at its border, it is denying the entry of Americans with pre-approved visas.
As I fight to return to my students, as my lawyer files an appeal, as U.S. officials inquire on my behalf, and as my students inevitably lose momentum in their studies, I avoid thoughts focused solely on my personal hardships these past two months. Instead, I think of the millions of Palestinians who do not have an American passport that affords them even the “courtesy” of an appeal or such advocacy efforts.
Nour Joudah
The Tennessean