No child in Israel is untouched by the war. Every child in Israel has endured terrible upheavals and unbearable distress since October 7.
Even if they haven’t been displaced or if they don’t come from families of the murdered, kidnapped, returned captives, or soldiers killed and wounded who continue to fight, risking their lives – all of them. All of our children are under the destructive influence of a terrible loss: parents, families, communities, and the media. We all convey to them fear, pain, despair, mourning, and bereavement.
In the absence of the education minister, who is not leading the education system, we, as educators, must think about the coming month. Minister Yoav Kisch, who promised the northern evacuees that the school year would start on September 1, has not acted to fulfill this promise.
While students are dropping out of the education system, the minister instead focuses on appointing senior officials who support the government to positions in his office. September 1, in ordinary times, is a day of excitement, joy, and anticipation for the new year. However, on September 1, our children will encounter adults who are broken and tormented.
Children have sensitive sensors and can read hidden messages, no matter how hard we try to suppress them. Let’s admit it: we can no longer hide our feelings. Our body language and facial gestures betray our facade. September 1 this year will be a sad and frightening day, followed by a month of holidays. We must prepare the children ourselves. Minister Miri Regev, appointed to plan a memorial ceremony for the first anniversary of the events of October 7, won’t save us. We must deal with this terrible anniversary ourselves.
Social-emotional learning and community support
What can we do in schools, kindergartens, and informal education settings to restore a little sanity? How can we prepare for October 7, which will come immediately after Rosh Hashanah?
The first month of the school year should not be dedicated to teaching the various subject matters. There will be no routine punishments, no regular demands, and no usual rush between “two pieces of information” from one teacher to another.
When the children come to school, they will find one central figure to accompany them, a peer group that will stick together, and a caring community of adults who know how to set boundaries on the one hand and wrap them in love on the other and who engage in open and well-managed conversations with them, informal activities, and physical and creative practices. Educators will fully implement the approach currently known as “social-emotional learning” (SEL), adding the “fiscal.”
Social-emotional learning is always physical, especially in traumatic times. Hiking, playing, cooking, mindfulness, music, movement, drama, and all kinds of creational activities can activate the body and mind together. We must adapt all these activities to a specific age and context. Each community will plan each activity for its children, with one goal: to provide well-being in an inclusive environment.
October 7 awaits them after Rosh Hashanah. We – and they – do not need national ceremonies and flag-waving. We will mark this day in an intimate educational setting. In a concurrent, gentle way, we will encounter the universal pain. I imagine a memorial day without activity dictated from above – without work, entertainment, or distractions. Simply a day of mourning when each community and family finds its way to express the sorrow and grief by saying, “It’s not over yet.” A year later, we are still on the battlefield. This is the truth, and the children know it.
October 7 in schools will have similar characteristics and will be the culmination of that month of preparation. At the end of that month, children can say to their parents: “There is a safe place where I can share my thoughts. I need my friends. I can talk to the teacher when it’s hard for me. I want to continue coping. Yes, I can.”
The writer is the dean of the School of Education at the College of Management Academic Studies (COLMAN).