On October 7, the terrorist group Hamas launched an attack on Israel which, according to the Center for Strategic and International Studies, was the deadliest terrorist attack by deaths per capita since data collection began in 1970. The unfolding conflict between Hamas and Israel is responsible for the greatest number of both Palestinian and Israeli fatalities in decades. The conflict in the Middle East casts a global shadow, influencing communities far beyond its geographical boundaries. Across the globe, people have been driven to protest, university campuses have been roiled by controversy, and hate crimes against all parties have increased exponentially. Despite our privilege of staying sheltered in the Lawrenceville bubble, we are not exempt from these shockwaves.
I remember waking up on October 7 to an overwhelming influx of messages. I sat on my bed for what felt like forever—poring over fatality lists, studying articles, contacting my family. I read messages confirming the safety of my family. I read messages from friends asking about my own safety. The worst kind of messages, though, were the ones I sent: asking after friends, family, and even strangers who were in Israel. In a sense, the tragedy brought me closer to my people, scattered across the world. Then, I put down my phone and got ready for school. I didn’t mention it, didn’t say anything out loud, acted as if nothing had happened. I felt isolated in my own community. Lawrenceville was home and yet, out of fear, I couldn’t bring myself to speak up. But silence is dangerous. Silence is what allows ignorance and prejudice to prevail.
As I was living through this nightmare, so were millions of others worldwide. Like two sides of the same coin, another student at Lawrenceville shared my experience. Clara Khabbaz ’26, a Palestinian-American, expressed anguish at the current state of affairs in the Middle East. She recognised “immense suffering and pain on both sides of this war,” highlighting the destruction felt by both sides. Like me, her first instinct when she first read the news was to call her family. They shared her sense of overwhelming hopelessness and were concerned by the news. She too felt isolated, unsure of what coming to school would be like. Did people know what had happened? Did they share her reaction?
According to the Anti-Defamation League and the Council on American-Islamic Relations, there has been a dramatic spike in reported incidents of antisemitic, anti-Arab and anti-Muslim bias. I heard about incidents of anti-semitism everywhere. The Jewish school in Toronto where so many of my summer camp friends went to school was closed after numerous bomb threats. Antisemitic incidents in the US increased by 337 percent in the two months following October 7. The rise of hate towards both sides was staggering. Khabbaz recounted her own experience with microaggressions, saying “when people learn I’m Palestinian-American, they give me a look…denying my cultural heritage.” These forms of discrimination are prevalent, yet hard to root out because they live in the minds of some of the world’s most educated people. Even at Lawrenceville, where we have the privilege of a world-class education, Khabbaz attested to the offensive language our own students use when referencing stereotypes surrounding Arab, Muslim, and Palestinian people.
Educational institutions across America are faring worse fates. Amid what the Biden administration has described as an “alarming rise” of antisemitism on college campuses, Jewish students feel more vulnerable than ever. As protests and rallies on both sides heat up, injuries have become more and more frequent. Jewish students at Cooper Union in New York City sheltered in a locked library as demonstrators banged on the glass walls of the building. And anonymous posters flooded a Cornell message board with threats, such as “If you see a Jewish ‘person’ on campus follow them home and slit their throats.” Universities are boiling over with hate and it’s our responsibility to make sure the same fate does not befall Lawrenceville.
We’ve seen efforts from the Lawrenceville administration to educate our population. A series of speakers has begun this process, and the response has been positive. Khabbaz expressed “appreciation (for) the school’s steps to educate the community about the history of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict so that we can have well-informed discussions.” Lawrenceville is a diverse school with representation from so many different communities that we must find ways to let each other feel safe, heard, and understood. For Khabbaz, the South West Asia and North Africa (SWANA) affinity group is a space where she feels heard. For others it may be the Jewish Student Organization (JSO).
The fear and isolation that members of our community felt is unacceptable. If we allow silence and ignorance to prevail, we remain in a dark echo chamber, letting our own thoughts fester without listening to others’ feelings. The pursuit of knowledge is the flame that will illuminate our dark room which is why we must maintain open dialogue and empathy. It is important to have spaces in which we can freely discuss our fears and concerns so that they can be understood. When we are afraid to talk about controversial topics, our thoughts stagnate, keeping us from the truth and from finding community. Instead of fearing these subjects, silencing them, and avoiding others we should talk and learn from each other. Only then can we begin to unravel the truth and find community. The decision our administration made to not only acknowledge what is happening in our world but also bring in experts to educate us has given students the opportunity to have discussions guided by knowledge and empathy. It is now up to us as students to run with what we have been given and listen to one another.
The way to move forward is to come together as a community. If two students from supposedly opposing sides can come together to write an article, then the rest of the community can, too. We must acknowledge that the suffering on both sides is something that unites us, not divides us. As a community, we must stand together against hate and division.