This D.C. artist's pro-Palestine mural keeps getting vandalized
After each instance of vandalism, Rose Jaffe has returned to the same Petworth wall to repaint her message.
At the intersection of Georgia Avenue and Emerson Street NW in Petworth sits The STEW, a creative hub and artist studio where founder and muralist Rose Jaffe has returned seven times to reimagine the same wall.
Streaks of midnight blue stretch across its facade, covering the most recent defacing. This wall has been vandalized six times since Jaffe first created a public mural supporting Palestine last July. After each defacing, Jaffe has returned to wall with her brushes and paint. This seventh iteration, created by fellow muralist Federico Mas Paz, carries an urgent demand: "Feed the People.”
“Folks are starving, you know?” Mas Paz explains to me as he sketches the design for the newest mural.
Mas Paz sketching the idea for the new mural, which reads "Feed The People." (India Kea)
Jaffe’s idea for the original mural came to her over a year ago, after she returned from a visit to the Zeitz Museum of Contemporary Art Africa in Cape Town.
“They had an exhibit about the role of art in spreading messages and changing cultural beliefs globally," Jaffe says. "Specifically, the intersection of apartheid in South Africa and Palestinian movements and how those messages were combined to amplify it to the world."
The experience stayed with her long after she flew back to D.C., where her public murals can be found across the city.
“When I got back, [with what] was happening with Palestine, I just felt moved and inspired by that exhibition to do something,” she says, crouched on the sidewalk with paint cans at her feet. “I was like, ‘well, what can I do with the space that I have?’ So that’s when I designed the first iteration — one year ago in July, 2024.”
Within a week, the mural’s original message – “Be Free, Free Palestine" – was covered with grey spray paint. Stunned but undeterred, Jaffe went back to the wall with her paint. “I never thought twice about not fixing the mural," she says.
One of her first redesigns was a tribute to community, filled with Keith Haring–inspired silhouettes: vibrant, joyful, in motion, surrounded by hearts, peace symbols, and the D.C. flag.
When the vandalism continued – depicting messages in spray paint that read phrases like "JLM (Jewish Lives Matter)", "Stop Hate," and "Kapo," a slur meaning traitor – Jaffe, who is Jewish, repainted with a message that felt even more personal: "Jews Say Free Palestine, Our Liberation is Intertwined." The image depicted striking, interconnected figures holding the words in an infinite embrace.
Repainted murals on the left, and the vandalism on the right. (Rose Jaffe)
Jaffe doesn't see her messages as traitorous; instead, she says they are a part of her Judaism.
“The pillars and values of my Judaism are of fighting for the oppressed, of always looking out for people that are in need, and showing up for what you believe in as a humanitarian,” she says.
This type of vandalism – and the persistence of its perpetrators – was new to Jaffe, who has been making public art in D.C. and elsewhere for years. “Nobody's ever touched my other murals. As soon as I had the Palestine mural, it was just back and forth, back and forth, back and forth,” she says, adding that surveillance warnings and cameras have not deterred the vandals. “They clearly don't care,” she continues. “It's broad daylight. I have them on video. One dude's wearing a face mask, but the other dude is just there.”
Each time, she keeps showing up. “I’m a mural painter professionally,” she says. “I have tons of paint. Clearly, these people are like, wow, she keeps fixing it. But it’s right here. It’s easy for me.”
Although she is cautious not to speak for the entire Jewish community, Jaffe feels deeply affirmed by her personal experiences and the steady support for her art that she’s received from anti-Zionist organizations like Jewish Voice for Peace.
“I can speak to my feelings, as a Jewish person …. all of the things that have connected me to my Jewish identity have given me immense clarity on this issue from the start," she says.
She's used the vandalism as an opportunity to draw even more eyes toward Gaza – posting montage-style clips of the repainting process to her followers online. An Instagram reel of her mural recreation has over 20,000 views; it's engagement that she's used to direct people to fundraisers for Palestinian families under siege.
"I've gotten this really big platform, tons of people messaging me, ‘Can I send you money?’ ‘What are other ways I can support?’” Jaffe says. "There are a few dissident voices, but they don’t compare.”
Despite the community support, Jaffe admits this back-and-forth cycle can get exhausting. “At this point, I am getting a little fatigued," she says.
For the most recent repainting, she's leaned on another local artist. Mas Paz reached out to lend a hand in re-creating the mural after this latest defacement, and when she asked if he'd like to just paint the whole mural, Mas Paz agreed.
"I really liked that idea," Jaffe says of bringing in more artists to the space. "Maybe I'll have other artists, and have this just be a rotating community art mural space."
For now, the wall stands steady, its call for compassion beaming in the summer sun. And if she has to return, she knows what she’ll do: Fix it. And she won’t be alone.
