October 7, 2024|ה' תשרי ה' אלפים תשפ"ה Processing October 7th with High School Students By Rabbi Jonathan Muskat

Today, at Shulamith high school where I teach, we gathered to commemorate the tragedy of October 7th. As part of the program, we broke into small groups to process our emotions about Israel, antisemitism, and the relentless war on terror. The students poured their hearts out, revealing raw, unfiltered feelings:

1. Hopelessness – “I thought the war would be short. We'd defeat our enemies and bring the hostages home. Now, it feels endless, and I’ve lost hope that they’ll ever return.”

2. Fear – “Why am I so sure Israel will win? We've been exiled from our land before. Who’s to say it won’t happen again?”

3. Disbelief that it’s been a year – “It hit me today. Men, women, children—trapped in some dungeon in Gaza for over a year. I knew it was long, but a year?”

4. Connection to Israel – “I feel more connected to Israel since October 7th, but at the same time, I feel distant. Their reality is so different from mine, living safely in America.”

5. Guilt – “For the first month, Israel consumed my every thought. Now, there are moments when I feel the pain of my brothers and sisters, but it hasn’t been consistent throughout the year.”

6. Amazement at the world’s reaction – “The world stood with us right after October 7th. But since then, it feels like the world has forgotten. Some are even supporting Hamas and Hezbollah. And many of our allies? They’re pressuring us not to fight back.”

7. A deeper understanding of antisemitism – “I never realized how much hate there is in the world for Israel and Jews. The rise in antisemitism since October 7th has been horrifying.”

What can I say to these students? Their feelings are valid, and they reflect the collective anguish of so many. The duration of this war, the unresolved fate of the hostages—it’s been agonizing. And for those of us in America, it’s created a unique tension. We feel deeply connected to Israel, yet we live worlds apart from the daily fear and sacrifice of those on the front lines. That gulf has left many feeling a profound sense of guilt. And as antisemitism has surged globally, it’s shaken our trust in the very fabric of the societies we live in.

So what can I offer in response? I can't remove their fears. I can't erase their discomfort. But maybe I can help them see that this discomfort, this unease, isn’t something to run from. It’s a reminder that we cannot place our trust in anyone but God. Even then, life remains uncertain. But amid the pain and fear, there is also resilience. The people of Israel are not broken. They are not running. This is not the Holocaust. We have a state. We have an army. We have allies. Yes, we’ve suffered terrible losses, but we’ve also witnessed miracles, and that gives us reason to hope.

Our students and our children are facing a reality they've never experienced before—an Israel under siege, a global wave of antisemitism rising like never before in their lifetime. It’s a wake-up call. But the Jewish people have never played the victim. With God’s help, we will endure. And we will overcome. This is the message that we must impart to our children and this is the message that we must internalize for ourselves.

עם ישראל חי.