What good is my degree if it must be bought with silence?” asked Sarah Aljitawi, a Palestinian-American junior, as she stood in front of a crowd in the cutting wind and cold rain, on March 20, 2025, on Wilson Quadrangle, on the University of Rochester (UR) River Campus in Rochester, NY.

Those in front of her came together in a show of solidarity with students being persecuted by the Trump administration for their involvement in pro-Palestine activism, and to demand free speech protections on their campus.

As Israel’s campaign of mass killing, forced displacement, and infrastructural ruin began in Gaza following the Oct. 7, 2023, massacre perpetrated by Hamas, students at hundreds of universities across the country and the globe took action. Organizing under the banner of the Boycott, Divestment, and Sanctions (BDS) movement, they lobbied their college administrators to call for a ceasefire and to disclose and divest from academic and financial connections to Israel.

“What good is my degree, if it must be bought with my silence?”

Sarah Aljitawi

Sarah Aljitawi stands on Eastman Quadrangle in front of Rush Rhees Library, on Feb. 20, 2025, in Rochester, NY. Eastman Quadrangle was the site of the University of Rochester (UR) pro-Palestine encampment, which remained in place until it was forcibly removed by UR Department of Public Safety personnel on May 14, 2024.

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The Palestinian BDS National Committee holds that “Israeli universities are major, willing and persistent accomplices in Israel’s regime of military occupation, settler-colonialism, apartheid, and now genocide.” The University of Rochester’s most notable relationship with an Israeli university is with Technion - Israel Institute of Technology. The elimination of this academic connection, as well as other partnerships between UR and Israeli universities, is key to the goals of the pro-Palestine student organizers at UR.

Aljitawi, a leader in this movement, has family in Gaza who have been repeatedly displaced since Oct. 7, 2023. Due to her role as an organizer against the conflict, she has faced disciplinary measures from UR and has seen friends and peers arrested, suspended, and expelled for their involvement.

A statue of George Eastman streaked with fresh paint stands on the edge of Eastman Quadrangle, on April 4, 2025, in Rochester, NY. This act of civil disobedience was carried out in the early hours of the morning and was purportedly intended as a reminder of Palestinian lives lost since Oct. 7, 2023.

A student stands in the doorway of the dormitory building where students gathered before they engaged in a protest during the University of Rochester Meliora Weekend alumni festival on Sept. 28, 2024, in Rochester, NY.

Outside of the university setting, the Rochester area, like many communities across the United States, has been gripped with grief, rage, and polarization around the conflict in Gaza. Rochester has a Muslim population of over 20,000 and a Jewish population of nearly 20,000. Demonstrations supporting both Israelis and Palestinians have become a regular part of the city’s social fabric.

Paul Sanders, the Israel Programming Chair for the Jewish Federation of Greater Rochester, speaks during the October 7 Commemoration, hosted by the Jewish Federation of Greater Rochester, at Temple Beth El on Oct. 7, 2024, in Brighton, NY. Behind him is an image of Omer Neutra, 21, an American-Israeli tank commander, who was initially thought to have been kidnapped during the Oct. 7 attacks, but has since been confirmed to have been killed fighting militants on Oct. 7, 2023. His body was taken into Gaza.

Basem Ashkar, a Palestinian community member, gives a peace sign to a passing car as he demonstrates in front of an L3 Harris Technologies building on Nov. 15, 2024, in Rochester. L3 Harris Technologies is a surveillance and weapons company that manufactures components for technologies that are often used by the Israeli military against Palestinians.

As Aljitawi spoke on March 20, she read aloud the letter Mahmoud Khalil, a Palestinian activist and recent Columbia graduate student, wrote from an Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) detention facility in Louisiana, after he was arrested outside of his university-owned apartment by ICE agents on March 8, 2025.

During the 2023-2024 academic year, Columbia University’s pro-Palestine movement became a model for the strategies and attitudes other student organizers would adopt, and Khalil’s arrest signaled a new era of federal power seizure on university campuses. The Trump administration has sought to exact stringent federal oversight at universities, slashed and threatened federal funding, and targeted international students, in some cases abducting them off the street or campus. Khalil’s arrest, according to President Donald Trump, would be the “first of many to come” regarding pro-Palestine protesters, who Trump characterized as “pro-terrorist, anti-Semitic, and anti-American.”

Karam Aldahleh, a Palestinian-American junior at UR, hugs a friend after she speaks to the crowd during a protest on Wilson Quadrangle demanding the protection of First Amendment rights on college campuses, on March 20, 2025, in Rochester, NY.

In his letter, Khalil stated:

“My arrest was a direct consequence of exercising my right to free speech as I advocated for a free Palestine and an end to the genocide in Gaza, which resumed in full force Monday night. With January’s ceasefire now broken, parents in Gaza are once again cradling too-small shrouds, and families are forced to weigh starvation and displacement against bombs. It is our moral imperative to persist in the struggle for their complete freedom.”

“To exist is to resist.”

A common refrain referring to the experience of being Palestinian

Karam Aldahleh, left, Sarah Aljitawi, and Saafa Tahboub, right, speak with pro-Israel students during a tabling event called “We’re Palestinian, Ask Us Anything,” on Feb. 21, 2025, in Rochester, NY.

Sarah Aljitawi, Karam Aldahleh, and Saafa Tahboub sat behind a banner that read “We’re Palestinian, ask us Anything,” as they tabled in Wilson Commons. Each of them has family in Palestine, and they have all been active in the pro-Palestine movement at UR over the past year. Passersby approached the table and engaged in conversations with the students. Some came out of curiosity, some to support, and others to debate.

“‘Do not say you’re Palestinian to anyone,’” Aljitawi’s grandmother told her a few weeks after Oct. 7, 2023, “‘Say you're American. If they ask you if you're Arab, say you’re Jordanian. Do not say you're Palestinian.”

This appeal was born out of fear: According to the Council on American-Islamic Relations (CAIR), complaints of anti-Arab and Anti-Muslim incidents increased by 178% in the last three months of 2023. Violence has characterized the police reaction to campus protests at numerous institutions across the US, whereas the demonstrations themselves, including at the University of Rochester, have been overwhelmingly peaceful.

Sarah Aljitawi dances with the Dabke team during a campus cultural club mixer on Oct. 5, 2024, in Rochester, NY. Dabke is a traditional Levantine folk dance, and the team is part of the Student Association for the Development of Arab Cultural Awareness, a campus organization for which Aljitawi serves as president.

A man gestures to pro-Palestine protesters on the corner of Elmwood Ave and Mt. Hope Ave on Dec. 3, 2024, in Rochester, NY, as he screams, “you’re all terrorists.”

Rhetoric characterizing student protesters as terrorists and hate groups is present both internationally and locally in Rochester. “This is not about Hamas,” Aljitawi says. “People see me sitting at that table and think I'm scary, think I hate them, think I have violent intentions towards them.” “All this stuff and they don't even know me.” “I don’t wish hate upon anyone.”

Karam Aldahleh, left, stands with his brothers on Aug. 1, 2015, beside the separation barrier constructed by Israel in the West Bank, Palestine. (Photo provided by Ayman Aldahleh)

Karam Aldahleh, a junior studying theoretical math at UR, is the only one among the three students at the table who has visited Palestine. He has spent time in the West Bank, but he’s experienced it only through week-long glimpses. It is challenging to enter Palestine, as the borders of the occupied Palestinian territories are almost entirely controlled by Israel. Often, attempts to enter result in delay, detainment, and refusal of entry. Aldahleh describes his experiences trying to enter the West Bank with frustration. “We waited at the security checkpoint for probably, like, 13 hours, no food, no water, no nothing offered to us.” “They make sure that getting into Falastin (Palestine), if you ever left, is really, really hard, and getting out is even harder.”

A painting he purchased in a charity auction for four University of Rochester (UR) students expelled for their alleged involvement with the distribution of “wanted” posters targeting staff and faculty at the UR sits on Karam Aldahleh’s floor on Feb. 23, 2025, in Rochester, NY.

Karam Aldahleh studies abstract algebra in his room on Feb. 23, 2025, in Rochester, NY.

Karam Aldahleh drives to buy groceries on Feb. 23, 2025, in Rochester, NY.

Karam Aldahleh leads protesters in chants in solidarity with four students who were arrested and suspended for alleged involvement with the distribution of “wanted” posters targeting staff and faculty at the University of Rochester on Nov. 21, 2024, in Rochester, NY.

Aldahleh finds it a struggle to maintain identity as somebody existing in the Diaspora. “I'm Falastini (Palestinian), just mainly because of my activism, because my heritage is there, and because I try and visit as much as I can and keep in touch with the loved ones that I still have there,” he says. “I'm grateful that this is my heritage, because I love it,” “but at the same time, I'm scared to see what happens every single day I open the news, and when I'm there, I'm scared to see what happens when I open up the window.”

“Morally Our Duty”
Laith Awad

Laith Awad, a Palestinian-Puerto Rican senior and a leader in the University of Rochester (UR) pro-Palestine movement, left, and another participant in the UR Gaza solidarity encampment, hang a Palestinian flag from a tree near Eastman Quadrangle, on April 28, 2024, in Rochester, NY.

It was dark and cold at 3 am on April 23, 2024, when a group of 20 students entered Wilson Quadrangle and began to erect tents between Wilson Commons and Crosby Hall, on a patch of green space ringed by walking paths. There was a giddiness in the group, heightened by a sense that what the students were doing might result in meaningful systemic change or in catastrophic academic consequences.

Two students in the University of Rochester pro-Palestine encampment use screws and a drill to fortify a visual barrier erected to protect the privacy of the encampment’s participants on May 11, 2024, in Rochester, NY. On the outside of the barrier, the names of Palestinians killed in the war in Gaza are written. On this section of the fence are the names of some of those in the Al-Astal family, of whom over 100 have been killed since Oct. 7, 2023.

“I didn't think we were going to last more than 12 hours, but here we were,” says Laith Awad, a Palestinian-Puerto Rican senior, who served as the public face for the movement in the spring of 2024 and has since graduated. To his surprise, the encampment lasted for 22 days.

“Imagine trying to coordinate food, cleanliness, activities for like, 100 people,” says Aljitawi, “It was like running a summer camp.” In addition to this, the student organizers faced the added pressure of negotiating with administrators and the impending fear that the encampment would be forcibly removed.

A tour group passes the University of Rochester pro-Palestine encampment on April 26, 2024, in Rochester, NY.

A participant in the University of Rochester pro-Palestine encampment works on a Spanish essay in her tent on April 25, 2024, in Rochester, NY.

Laith Awad leads participants in the University of Rochester pro-Palestine encampment in a call and response chant of “Who keeps us safe? We keep us safe,” during the nightly encampment meeting on May 2, 2024, in Rochester, NY.

“Who keeps us safe? We keep us safe!” A call-and-response chant that ended every nightly encampment meeting

Miller Gentry-Sharp, left, and Mowaz Alvi talk in their apartment on the evening of Feb. 9, 2025, in Rochester, NY.

Miller Gentry-Sharp and Mowaz Alvi, who are now juniors, both participated in the encampment. They met during their freshman year, as their paths crossed during a soccer game. They spent the day together and have since become close friends. Since the Oct. 7 attacks, both have become involved in activist organizations, advocating for Palestinian liberation and divestment from Israel.

Mowaz Alvi does his morning prayer as he gets up for the day on Jan. 31, 2025, at his apartment in Rochester, NY.

Miller Gentry-Sharp reads a cookbook in his room as he prepares to make food for a Super Bowl party on Feb. 9, 2025, in Rochester, NY.

“I didn't grow up around many Muslim people,” says Gentry-Sharp, who was raised in a Jewish household in Philadelphia. “I think that in America, especially a lot of like, Jewish spaces, are kind of raised to associate Islam with terrorism.” As a ten-year-old, “I could tell you who Osama bin Laden is and what he's known for. I couldn't tell you who Muhammad was,” he says.

Alvi grew up in East Harlem, NY, in a Muslim Bangladeshi household. Islam was something his parents took comfort in as they raised their three children. Before attending the University of Rochester, Alvi described himself as a “Very strict conservative, like fundamentalist.” He says that growing up, “I didn't really have exposure to most Jewish people and especially, didn't have any Jewish friends.”

The two friends are now roommates living in an on-campus apartment. “We come from very different backgrounds,” Alvi says, “but are still able to be close. “My politics have greatly shifted because I have grown empathy for people not my own.”

Miller Gentry-Sharp, left, and Mowaz Alvi share tofu and Buffalo cauliflower that Gentry-Sharp prepared on Feb. 9, 2025, in Rochester, NY.

Miller Gentry-Sharp, left, and Mowaz Alvi watch the Super Bowl on the sidewalk on Feb. 9, 2025, in Rochester, NY, as a fire alarm goes off in their building.

Students led the pro-Palestine movement at UR, but they received support from faculty, who advocated for their students both publicly and behind closed doors.

When UR professor of religion Dr. Joshua Dubler saw the ADL and Brandeis Center Letter to Presidents of Colleges and Universities, issued in October, 2023, he says “it was pretty clear that we were going to be in this Mccarthyist place and the pressure built for me very quickly, that as a tenured, very identifiably Jewish professor, I couldn't do nothing.”

Dr. Joshua Dubler, right, and Sarah Aljitawi sit in class during the “organizing for divestment” independent study on Dec. 13, 2024, in Rochester, NY.

German language professor Dr. Lisa Cerami and Dubler, who are married, co-taught an independent study during the 2024 fall semester called “Organizing for Divestment.” The class was intended to provide student organizers with a space to think critically and possibly help them improve their work. Both Sarah Aljitawi and Miller Gentry-Sharp were enrolled.

Members of the campus organization Jewish Voices for Peace talk with Dr. Joshua Dubler and Dr. Lisa Cerami during the Jewish holiday, Sukkot, on Oct. 19, 2024, in Rochester, NY. Dubler and Cerami provided a Sukkah (a wooden structure used during the week-long Sukkot festival) for the club and led a Havdalah ceremony later that evening.

Dr. Joshua Dubler and Dr. Lisa Cerami speak with guests during a Shabbat dinner in their home on Nov. 15, 2024, in Rochester, NY.

As the destruction of the encampment drew nearer, both Dubler and Cerami were on standby in case it was raided. When the call came, they headed to campus. A member of the Department of Public Safety tried to stop him as he tried to reach the encampment, but Dubler said, “‘No, I'm going to be with my students,’” and rushed past.

“Give us a conversation.”
Laith Awad

Participants in the University of Rochester pro-Palestine encampment hold their nightly meeting, during which plans are discussed, updates on the war in Gaza are given, and questions from participants are answered, on April 30, 2024, in Rochester, NY.

In a huddled group on the outside edge of the encampment, approximately fifteen people, mostly students, were shrouded by a light mist as they consulted about the escalation that would take place the next day. The students felt they had reached an impasse in negotiations with administrators, and this action was intended to push the administration to return to the negotiating table.

At 10 am the next morning, Laith Awad led the students at a fast clip across campus toward Wallis Hall, the UR administrative building. As the group drew closer, they broke into a run. A student who had gone in earlier under the guise of an appointment opened the door from the inside, and protesters flowed in.

Demonstrations emerged outside Wallis Hall, and soon armed Department of Public Safety peace officers were in the building, monitoring, and doing their best to limit the movement of participants in the sit-in.

Participants in the UR pro-Palestine encampment pray during a peaceful sit-in inside the UR administrative building, Wallis Hall, on May 1, 2024, in Rochester, NY, as Peace Officers from the UR Department of Public Safety look on.

The students carried demands with them:
1. A call for an immediate and permanent ceasefire.
2. A commitment from the university to begin the process of academic divestment.
3. A lifting of the campus bans placed on five students.
4. Assurances that none of the students who participated in the sit-in would face consequences.

A student rallies a crowd in front of the University of Rochester administrative building, Wallis Hall, as a group of roughly twenty protesters engages in a peaceful sit-in inside on May 1, 2024, in Rochester, NY.

Awad says, “We got in there and I told them, ‘We didn't come in there requesting to meet these demands,’ we came in there being like, ‘We've been asking for conversations, give us a conversation.’”

The initial excitement wore off as the temperature rose in the lobby, where the students had located themselves. The space was cramped, and the heat was palpable. People fanned each other with signs. Some lay on the floor, as others took turns reading the names off a list of thousands of Palestinians killed by the war in Gaza aloud from a long scroll on the floor.

After what Awad estimates was six or seven hours, he got word that Sarah Mangelsdorf, the president of UR, was willing to negotiate. He engaged in a tense series of phone calls and huddled consultations with the other students inside Wallis Hall. Eventually, they left the building with assurances that no one who participated in the sit-in would face consequences and an opportunity to make their case for divestment at an upcoming faculty senate meeting.

Laith Awad negotiates with Michael Marsh, UR president Sarah C. Mangelsdorf’s chief of staff, as Dept. of Public Safety officer Joseph Hayflinger looks on, inside the Wallis Hall administrative building on May 1, 2024, in Rochester, NY.

Two days later, Awad led students in a second occupation of Wallis Hall, accusing administrators of negotiating in bad faith. The following weeks were a slow escalation by the university. Drone sightings above the encampment reinforced the presence of the two cameras recently installed atop Rush Rhees Library. The once full camp now seemed to be a collection of often empty tents being overseen by a skeleton crew. Awad says “We would have a lot of people watching over, a lot of people coming taking pictures, people in suits, people that looked clearly that they were working for the university, just surveilling.” “I think they were just studying ‘what's the most efficient way to get rid of this?’”

Two members of the University of Rochester Department of Public Safety block the front door to Wallis Hall as student protesters engage in a second peaceful sit-in on May 3, 2024, in Rochester, NY. Laith Awad led students in a second occupation of the building after accusing administrators of negotiating in bad faith following the first sit-in.

On May 9, suspension notices were emailed to eleven students. A statement from the President’s Office stated, “Students, who, over the course of the past year, have repeatedly violated our conduct policies, will be suspended.” All but one of these students had participated in a Wallis Hall sit-in. The students, including Awad, were barred from the University.

Dr. Joshua Dubler, left, Palestinian community leader Jonathan Khoury, and Laith Awad, right, attend a news conference regarding the 11 student suspensions, on May 9, 2024, in Genesee Valley Park, just off the University of Rochester campus, in Rochester, NY.

“‘You are nothing. All your belongings are nothing.
We are the ones in control.’” Laith Awad, on his perception of the University’s message on the morning of Ma 14, 2024

People at the University of Rochester walk the patch of grass on Eastman Quadrangle where the pro-Palestine encampment stood earlier that day, on May 14, 2024, in Rochester, NY. The encampment was present on campus for 22 days.

It was sunny, around 7 am on May 14, 2024, as personnel from the University of Rochester Department of Public Safety spread out around the edges of Eastman Quadrangle, surrounding the encampment. Birds chirped as the shriek of an air horn- the signal that alerted encampment residents of impending danger- cut through the air. A disembodied voice played on a loop across the quad, demanding that the students vacate the space.

The protesters exited their tents and gathered in a tight line across the entry of the space, holding improvised barriers made of two-by-fours and sheet metal in front of them as they faced the officers.

University of Rochester (UR) Department of Public Safety personnel enforce a perimeter around Eastman Quadrangle, as their colleagues facilitate the forcible removal of the UR pro-Palestine encampment, on May 14, 2024, in Rochester, NY. The officers who participated were armed, and some carried braces of zip-tie handcuffs on their belts. Many obscured their identities with black masks, hats, and sunglasses.

“Any questions? Comments? Before suspensions and arrests commence,” asked Captain Joseph Hayflinger, one of the few officers who opted not to obscure his identity. “Is that what you’re prepared for? Is that what you guys really wanna do here?” he asked, “’Cause that’s not our goal.’”

The whirring of the drone above grew louder as Hayflinger continued: “Our goal is for you to be heard. Our goal is to respect that. But at the same time, we have an obligation to the University, and they’ve tried in good faith to communicate with you guys. And you haven’t upheld your part. So, what can we do to come to a peaceful resolution today? Are you not willing to engage in a peaceful resolution, is my question.”

“Meet the demands,” came a lone reply from within the group. Hayflinger made one more appeal and backed away. He spoke into his radio. Within seconds, masked officers knocked down the visual barrier at the rear of the encampment and tore into the space. They immediately began ripping down tents and throwing objects onto the grass. One officer held a handycam and filmed. The camp residents stood clustered at the edge, watching as the encampment that they had built and peacefully occupied for weeks was razed in minutes.

Dr. Joshua Dubler stands with the students who were recently forced out of the University of Rochester pro-Palestine encampment as it was destroyed, on May 14, 2024, in Rochester, NY. Both Dubler and Dr. Lisa Cerami were on standby to support their students in case the encampment was attacked, and when the call came, they rushed to campus.

A University of Rochester Department of Public Safety vehicle drives through a parking lot as an excavator crushes material taken from the pro-Palestine encampment into a dumpster that will soon be on its way to a landfill, on May 14, 2024, in Rochester, NY.

“I think, genuinely, they wanted to send a message to us that, ‘You're nothing. All your belongings are nothing. Look how we took everything you built and threw it in the trash. We're the ones in control here,’” Awad says.

“They prefer to do all of that than having a conversation with us. It wasn't losing hope, but it was losing a little respect for people, because I'm someone who always tries to find the best in people and hope that they do know what's right; they do know what's good, eventually, they will understand. But that was lost from them.”

“It's not an option for me anymore. Everything I do has to give back to my people. I think I owe that to them as someone who's living in the diaspora.”

Sarah Aljitawi

Sarah Aljitawi sits during a vigil for the tens of thousands of dead in Gaza, on Oct. 5, 2024, at Martin Luther King Park, in Rochester, NY.

Sarah Aljitawi prayed during the moment of silence, on Oct. 5, 2024, as she participated in a vigil as part of the One Year of Genocide, One Year of Resistance event, hosted at Martin Luther King Park, in Rochester, NY. She listened as a small fraction of the names of the now more than 50,000 Palestinians killed in Israel’s war on Gaza were read.

“Why did God put me here and not there?” Aljitawi wonders, “I think in this case, it's because the only way change will occur is if you have people across the world, and especially in the US, advocate for not supporting Israeli apartheid and the Israeli government.”
Summer had passed, and as the students returned to campus, they were faced with a set of new protest policies that directly responded to the actions taken by those in the pro-Palestine movement over the past year. These policies significantly limited students' ability to demonstrate without consequence. Despite these new restrictions, the students remained resolute in their demands to their administration.

A pedestrian looks at the participants in a “die-in” during the University of Rochester Meliora Weekend festival on Sept. 28, 2024, in Rochester, NY.

Mowaz Alvi received a disciplinary probation, a status that means he is no longer in good standing with UR, after he was identified as a participant in a die-in during the UR Meliora Weekend alum festival. Alvi, along with 16 other students, covered their faces and put on white T-shirts with the names of individuals killed by Israeli fire in Gaza. They then lay motionless on Wilson Quadrangle, mimicking corpses, as the festival continued around them.

Mowaz Alvi stands in front of Wallis Hall, where the University of Rochester administration is headquartered, on Feb. 27, 2025, in Rochester, NY.

Reflecting on the disciplinary probation, Alvi stated, “I was not a disruption to the students. I was not a disruption to the faculty or the alumni. I sat down on a patch of grass for an hour and 30 minutes in the rain, and I was punished.”

Because of the probation, Alvi could now face suspension or expulsion if he violates the code of conduct.

Later that fall, UR entered the international spotlight after nearly 2,000 “wanted” posters targeting 13 individuals in the University of Rochester community (a mixture of faculty, staff, administration, medical personnel, and trustees) were wheat-pasted across campus on the night of November 10, 2024, by over 20 individuals. UR soon issued a statement condemning the action.

Remnants of “wanted” posters in the University of Rochester tunnels on March 1, 2025, in Rochester, NY. The posters were affixed with a strong adhesive, making their complete removal extremely difficult.

As the story garnered more attention both in the news and from the Rochester community, the posters were characterized by UR as antisemitic. The Department of Public Safety announced that it was working with federal, state, and local law enforcement agencies, including the Federal Bureau of Investigation, as it investigated the incident.

“There's no empirical ground within the posters to claim that they're antisemitic,” says Dr. Lisa Cerami. In her view, the labelling of the posters as such “was not innocent. It was a political choice.” “They're not approaching this like academics,” says Cerami, who holds a doctorate from Princeton University, teaches courses at UR on German-Jewish cultural history, and is currently writing a book on antisemitism, “they're operating within a sectarian framework, and that sectarian framework is not interested in some kind of dispassionate understanding of what's going on there. They have a political goal, and the political goal is maximally leveraging this antisemitism claim to invalidate criticism of the state.” “The effect of the claim is that it creates this framework for criminalization.”

“Campus does not feel safe.”
Saafa Tahboub

A truck on Mt. Hope Ave, in the University of Rochester College Town, demands the expulsion of students involved in a “wanted” poster incident, on Nov. 19, 2024, in Rochester, NY.

On November 19, 2024, four UR students were arrested for their alleged participation in the postering and were charged with felony criminal mischief. They were taken from campus to the Monroe County Jail, where they were held for the night.

The students, who had already been suspended, were eventually expelled on the grounds that they had violated the student code of conduct. Since then, all but one have had their expulsions downgraded to two-year suspensions.

Sarah Aljitawi speaks to the press on Nov. 20, 2024, outside of the Monroe County Hall of Justice, in Rochester, NY, after the arraignment of four students arrested for their alleged role in the distribution of “wanted” posters on the University of Rochester campus.

“Getting a degree now is not just about getting the degree, it's about surviving to get the degree,” says Saafa Tahboub, a Palestinian-American sophomore studying brain and cognitive science. “What happened with the four students has created so much fear on campus.” “Campus does not feel safe.”

Miller Gentry-Sharp blocks a news camera as students who have just been released from Monroe County Jail after their arraignments exit the building to meet a group of their peers, on Nov. 20, 2024, in Rochester, NY.

Sarah Aljitawi embraces Jefferson Turcios as he leaves Monroe County Jail on Nov. 20, 2024, in Rochester, NY. Turcios is a University of Rochester student who was charged with a felony misdemeanor for his alleged role in distributing “wanted” posters on the University of Rochester campus.

Tahboub is the youngest organizer in the University of Rochester pro-Palestine movement, and as her peers leave the University, the responsibility of leadership will fall to her. “I think I've come to terms with the risks,” she says. “I would not like anything horrible to happen to me, because I have put work into this degree, but I know that at least what I'm doing is what's right, and it's what I believe in.”

As the Trump administration facilitates a federal campaign against higher education, on-campus pro-Palestine organizing is now more than ever weighed against the risks of academic consequence, deportation, incarceration, and physical harm.

A Television display announces that Donald Trump has sanctioned the International Criminal Court, on Feb. 7, 2025, in Frederick Douglass Hall, on the University of Rochester campus, in Rochester, NY.

Following the expulsion/suspensions of their peers and friends, Tahboub and senior Dariel Guerra ran for senate to ensure more rights for student protesters. Both were elected and have passed a resolution condemning the University’s handling of the “wanted” posters incident.

Saafa Tahboub, left, and Dariel Guerra participate in a student senate meeting on March 3, 2025, in Rochester, NY, as a representative from the Graduate Labor Union speaks during the open forum.

“we need to have more concrete (definitions). What is a demonstration? What is a protest, what is a vigil?” Tahboub says. None of these terms is defined in the UR Demonstrations, Vigils, and Peaceful Protests Policy. During the die-in, based on the rules laid out in the policy, students believed their behavior was within its bounds. The administration disagreed, and this resulted in the punishment of the students who participated. Violation of the policy has been used repeatedly to justify the targeting of students by the UR disciplinary apparatus. This targeting thins the ranks of the movement, as students are banned from campus, suspended, and expelled.

Dariel Guerra, a recently elected student senator and active pro-Palestine student organizer, sits for a portrait in his on-campus apartment on March 1, 2025, in Rochester, NY. Guerra was evicted from this apartment on April 6, 2025, after he received an interim ban from the University of Rochester.

Guerra was impacted by the Demonstrations, Vigils, and Peaceful Protests Policy following an accusation that he had led an unregistered protest. He received an interim ban letter from Assistant Dean of Students Kyle Orton on April 6, 2025. The ban required that Guerra vacate his on-campus apartment within two hours of receiving the letter. Guerra denies that he led the protest in question.

It is difficult for Tahboub to see the loss of support the movement has undergone, and she is uncertain about what the future might bring.

The Palestinian death toll in Gaza was estimated at over 35,000 when the encampment was destroyed. One year later, it has climbed to an estimated 55,000. Gazans, desperate for food and medicine, contend with limited humanitarian aid, repeated forced displacement, and indiscriminate Israeli fire. Donald Trump has proposed a permanent mass forced displacement of Gazans to neighboring countries, and in the United States, has made suppression of pro-Palestinian student speech a priority.

Despite the potential consequences she may face for her activism, Tahboub remains committed to advocacy for the Palestinian cause. “At the end of the day,” she says, “I'm fighting for my people, and whatever happens will happen. I'm not going to stop no matter what.”

“I’m not going to stop, no matter what.”

Saafa Tahboub

Saafa Tahboub stands in front of Monroe County Jail, on March 23, 2025, in Rochester, NY. The jail is where four of her peers were held after they were taken from campus and charged with felony misdemeanors for their alleged role in the distribution of “wanted” posters.

I am endlessly grateful to the many incredible people who shared their stories and placed their trust in me over the past year.

I would also like to thank Jenn Poggi, Josh Meltzer, Tamir Kalifa, Mustafa Hussain, and Meredith Davenport for their support during this storytelling process.

Sources I referenced in this writing can be found here.