Erin Grimm

What follows is a speech that I delivered at the University of Washington, on September 7, 2025.

My name is Erin, and I’m the founding director of the Erin Grimm School, and author of the book Christians for a Free Palestine. I wanted to begin and end with the words of Palestinian writers in Palestine, one named Usama in the West Bank, and one named Joy in Ghazza. To support their work, visit eringrimm.school and click the links to their support pages.  

My friend Usama writes, 

“Here in Palestine, we feel the weight of the madness every day. The news is not something distant for us, it is our streets, our homes, our neighbors’ tears. Each morning, we wake to the echo of uncertainty, and each night we lie down with the heavy knowledge that tomorrow may bring more loss. The air feels thick with grief, and the heart grows weary from holding so much sorrow. 

“And yet, there is something else that keeps us going. Across the miles, beyond walls and checkpoints, I hear and see a growing solidarity. 

“More and more people around the world are demonstrating even if they’re carried off to jail, even at great personal cost. Many human beings are waking up to caring for those they do not know. This awakening of hearts is the one light in the midst of the darkness.” 

Let us now return to our current setting, Seattle. We are here today to honor the life of a comrade Aysenur Ezgi Eygi, who was cruelly and shamelessly murdered by the Israeli Occupation Forces during a peaceful protest on the occupied West Bank. Aysenur was an activist who protested settler colonialism at home on Turtle Island, having protested at Standing Rock, as well as in Palestine.  

There is no “solution” to Aysenur’s murder. Her death is a tragedy.  

And I am here to say that the vision of our shared humanity must inspire us so that we do not continue to contribute to this horror of Christian Zionism, which predates the political Zionism of Israel that facilitated this murder. 

To my fellow Christians, Land theft is land theft is land theft. Murder is murder is murder. Politically motivated killing by Zionists is terrorism, and genocide is genocide.  

We need a fully independent investigation of Aysenur’s death and also of Rachel Corries who preceded her. Saif Musallet was beaten to death in the West Bank of July 11, 2025 by Israeli settlers. Terrorism is terrorism. 

This campus lost Jewish graduate Hayim Katsman on October 7 2023 and Aysenur Ezgi Eygi, who was Muslim, on September 6, 2024.  

To end this madness we need to fight antisemitism and Islamophobia together.  

Which means challenging Christian supremacy, Christian nationalism, and Christian Zionism.  

There are more Christian Zionists than Jewish Zionists. There are liberal Christian Zionists and conservative ones, and I talk in my book about how the United Nations General Assembly Resolution 3379, adopted on November 10^th 1975, “Determined that Zionism is a form of racism and racial discrimination.” 

There is blood on our hands. The massive organization Christians United for Israel should be called Christians United for Genocide. 

I close with the words of a woman, Joy, whose writing can be found on my website, eringrimm.school. Joy is trying to survive the genocide in Gaza. To find out more about her work and how to support her, visit eringrimm.school and follow the link to her fundraiser. The name of this poem is “Something Unfair Keeps Happening” 

Something unfair keeps happening. 

Something—hot smoke—I don’t know where it comes from, but it burns my chest. 

I miss my home. 

Then I wake up. 

Then I miss my home. 

Then I walk on my feet for three hours straight, looking for flour. 

Then I miss my home. 

Then sometimes I find flour. 

And sometimes I don’t. 

Then I miss my home. 

Then I go back home, hungry and exhausted. 

I gather wood to light a fire. 

Then I miss my home. 

Then I cook anything canned—food even dogs and animals wouldn’t touch. 

But who cares about us? 

There are animal welfare societies that evacuate animals. 

But who would evacuate us? 

Then I suppress my inner questions. 

Then I miss my home. 

Then I go out in the afternoon, to the sea they no longer let us reach. 

Then I miss my home. 

Then I return to sleep at night, 

in the shelter I have taken as a substitute for my home. 

Oh— 

I have remembered everything I miss. 

Just my home.