I spoke this week at a conference of Jewish educators about the dark clouds of war news in American classrooms. The many able teachers and school counselors described their noble efforts to talk to their students, encouraging them to speak up and out, to process and externalize their thoughts and feelings, fears and worries, and the range of emotions that plague children and haunt us as well.
Most of the educators began to realize, upon reflection and through analysis of their experiences, that the half year that has passed since October 7 has led to many students feeling talked out. Whether speaking to younger students or older ones, teachers have begun to acknowledge that their efforts have produced, for the most part, diminishing returns. In fact, some students have said that they do not want to discuss their reactions any further. Some have begun to slink away into silent withdrawal during the teachers’ efforts to elicit responses. Some have grown moody and sullen.
One teacher said that when she planned to introduce a moment of silence to a classroom celebration to empathize with the hostages, she was shouted down by her teenage students for ruining the mood. The educators sought guidance and insight into this dilemma, so my workshop shifted to focus on the situation they were describing and some possible useful remedies.
Jewish tradition is no stranger to the reality that there is usually an admixture of sadness with joy. Whether a smashed glass beneath the chuppah, or the contrast between sweet charoset versus saltwater, we acknowledge that the adult mind and heart contain vast capacities for emotion and can make room for dual realities. We can be joyful without losing sight of our struggles. We can be sad without blocking out hopefulness for better times. Younger children have difficulty juggling these dual realities. Life is either black or white for the very young. A little sadness conflicts with lots of happiness. Younger children cannot really integrate or tolerate discordant notes, and may become frustrated, sad, angry, or confused. Only with maturity comes the capacity to tolerate life’s ambiguities and our own ambivalent feelings.
Now comes the challenge. When we face difficult times and stressful events, do we immerse ourselves in the harshness of the reality? Do we saturate ourselves and our children with the reminders of the horrors and terrors that still exist? It may seem that by doing so, we are helping our children grow up and mature, rather than allowing them to languish in the youthful illusion that there is nothing to fear out there. Yet, there are more wholesome ways to promote maturation in our students and our children. This must be so, because accelerating development, including an expedited psychological maturation, rarely leads to success and typically leads to unwanted conflict.
Dialogue, at age-appropriate levels, is one of the means of introducing a young person to some of the current events and concerns that Jews are now facing. We must watch our step, however, because robbing a child of innocence breeds a precociously cynical view of the world, and a sardonic six-year-old can become difficult to parents, hard to recondition, frustrating to teach, and a challenge for peers and friends.
Children can be guided with a less intellectual, less cognitive emphasis to develop sensitivity, caring, and respect for the plight of others by means of creative expression using music, art, stories with a values-based lesson, and mindfulness techniques for cultivating awareness of self and others. When adults model caring and compassion, speaking positively and lovingly about other Jews and their challenges, this helps put similar feelings on a child’s psychological horizon for later access.
Creative outlets and activity draw on parts of the brain that operate on less rational [which does not always mean irrational] and more emotional and intensely impressionistic storage of memory and experience. In the same way that the saying “a picture is worth a thousand words” refers to the manifold messages we can attribute to an artist’s painting, the production of an artistic or creative project can externalize many thoughts and emotions that travel further and deeper than our spoken vocabulary might go.
People can at times become saturated with speaking about and hearing about thoughts and feelings. If a child is resisting your efforts to articulate their distress, consider some nonverbal exercises and tools. Consider meaningful projects. Classrooms as well as home life can accommodate some cognitive downtime to help our children unload and reorganize the dark clouds within.
Rabbi Dr. Dovid Fox is the director of Chai Lifeline Crisis and Trauma Services. For Israel crisis resources and support, visit chailifeline.org/israel or call 855-3-CRISIS.