31.5°N, 34.4°E.
Before anything else, that. Not a headline, not a hashtag, not a debate — a set of coordinates you could put into any map application on earth and arrive at a specific place with specific streets.
Why the number comes first
Places that get talked about constantly have a way of becoming abstract. Gaza gets discussed as a situation, a conflict, a file. The coordinates put it back on the planet. It is 41 kilometres long. It has an address. People give each other directions there.
Three panels
The boy. Carrying water containers taller than he is. He didn't set out to become a symbol of anything — he needed water for his family, which is what survival looks like once the basics stop being basic.
The rubble. Not staged and not distant. Streets and homes reduced to their skeletons. It is uncomfortable to look at, which is the point of putting it on something people wear.
The Islamic University of Gaza. A place that educated generations. It's there to mark what existed, and what people intend to rebuild.
Why it's in the Archive
Most designs about Gaza show either the grief or the defiance. This one shows the address — and then three things that happened at it.
A place that keeps being told to disappear, and keeps declining.
Gaza Coordinates comes as a long sleeve. 10% of every order goes to help orphans in Gaza.
