Yvonne P., Oakwood High School
The Break in the Storm
October 7, 2023—that was the day my life changed. Hamas invaded Israel, setting the stage for a war that is still lasting today. As a Jew, this impacted me more than most people around me.
At school, antisemitism was awakening from its decades-old slumber. It was nothing glaring: a comment I heard in the hallway, or a quick but judgmental glance if I mentioned I was out of school for Rosh Hashanah. It spread and grew, infesting the building with unseen rot, the hate creeping from person to person, classroom to classroom, until I no longer felt like I belonged. I became paranoid that everyone around me despised part of who I was, the faith that, in their mind, represented something evil. I tried over and over and over again to explain that Judaism is not the same thing as Israel, but it was useless. People believe what they want to believe; when you contradict their opinion, they dig in their heels more.
This lasted into the next school year. However, there was something different in 2024. I was moved up to the “big kid area” in Sunday school, where all the kids who had had their bar and bat mitzvahs went. My Sunday school experience completely changed. My rabbi would give weekly updates on the war, and for the first time since the war, I paid attention. I’d been desperately trying to ignore all the horrible battles happening—both physical and social—for the sake of my sanity and my happiness. That was no longer an option, and each week I could feel myself slipping further and further into misery, into the dark cloud that enveloped the entire world.
I realized I had to change my mindset, and the next week, I tried focusing on all the positive things coming out of the Middle East, like families banding together and helping their communities. I suggested the same to my classmates, and my rabbi made sure to include a positive in her presentations. Some of my classmates took it upon themselves to look for the good outside of Sunday school. That was the break in the storm. Slowly, the sun of hope came out from behind the dark cloud of war. We were able to discuss the horrible with the better, rather than only focusing on the awful. I could feel myself getting happier, and it impacted my life outside of Sunday school, too.
At school, I was able to ignore the negative remarks that still flew through hallways and slipped into classrooms. I had always been a fairly realistic person, never one to be positive when there was nothing to be happy about. I know now that there is always something good. You have to be the one to look for it even when—especially when—no one else does. And if you can’t find it, then you have to be the one to shine.
When you can’t see the light, be the light.
