Freedom – from the pens of our youth

The SA Jewish Report asked Jewish pupils to capture what freedom looks like for them in the light of Pesach, what happened in Israel on 7 October, Israel’s war against Hamas, and rising antisemitism in the world.

Jessie Sherman, Grade 11, Herzlia High School

Proud and free

Her Magen David feels cold against her skin, hidden underneath her sweater.

His kippah, although on, is tucked beneath his hat.

They are scared.

She sits inside her basement, patiently waiting for the shelling to halt.

He sits by the telephone, awaiting any news on his wife’s safe return.

They are scared.

She hides inside her closet, hoping the intruders won’t hear her.

He grips his phone tightly, telling his family that he loves them.

They are scared.

I wish for a world without fear.

A world where we aren’t forced to hide ourselves away,

A world where IDF (Israel Defense Forces) soldiers can return to their families,

A world in which we have freedom – the freedom to exist.

Together, we can build a world that’s free.

She removes the necklace from beneath her sweater, now proudly on display.

He takes off his cap, allowing for his kippah to be in full view.

They are proud.

 

Ask and ye shall receive

Ayala Sifris, Grade 11, Yeshiva College

The prayer Vehi She’amda sung at our Pesach seders each year will be felt like a crushing weight on our souls as our eyes leak with tears and our glasses with wine.

“Sheloh echad bilvad, umad aleynu lechalotaynu. Elah, she bechol dor vador, omdim aleynu lechalotaynu.” (There has not only been one who has risen to destroy us, but rather in every generation, they try to destroy us.)

This year, recent images flood our minds. Massacred bodies, burnt cities, innocent people in the hands of terrorists, and more than 1 500 beautiful souls murdered. And when we sing at our sederim, it won’t be a foreign thought, but rather the present enemy that has arisen “bador shelanu” (in our generation).

For this year, our imaginations will picture Pharoah alongside an ordinary-looking man in keffiyeh with a scarf of green, red, black, and white chanting, “From the river to the sea”, a euphemism for “Wipe Israel and the Jews off the map.” And in our mind’s eyes, we’ll see Moshe Rabbeinu and Aharon Hakohen raising their staffs to the heavens alongside saluting 18, 19, 20, 45, and 50-year-old heroes in uniforms green with the emblem of Hashem on their chest: “IDF” (Israel Defense Forces).

As our enemies chant in support of terrorists, commend the atrocities of 7 October, and spread hate in the name of freedom, I wonder what we’re asking when we pray, sing, and beg Hashem for freedom? My childish visuals of rainbows and people holding hands disintegrated after my teenage mind was engulfed in the images and news from my phone motzei Simchat Torah.

“Hatikvah but shnot ulpayim, lihiyot um chofshi beurtzaynu, eretz Zion Yerushalayim” (The hope that is 2 000 years old: to be a free nation in our land, the land of Zion, Jerusalem.)

The words of Hatikvah illustrate the Jewish mindset and vision.

Freedom is to be free from fear of invasion. Freedom is to dance at a musical festival in Be’eri. Freedom is to wear an Israeli flag on your back and a Magen David on your heart with pride. Freedom is parents holding their children, young kids riding bikes and laughing in the streets without the empty chair at their dining table waiting at home. Freedom is to live life according to the beliefs you cherish.

In this time of turmoil, our faith strengthens as we wait every day for the return of our hostages, the end of this war, and the final redemption. This year, Vehi She’amda shall be felt as a breeze of relief filling the cracks of our soul, for the hymn concludes with an everlasting promise:

“Every generation, Hashem saves us from their hands.”

 

Fight for what we’ve lost

Chaya Lipskar, Grade 7, Torah Academy

Freedom. A blissful feeling that we once had as Jews. Being able to walk freely and not be afraid to share your true identity. But that was taken away from us on 7 October by the evil, horrendous, Hamas. A dark day we’ll never forget.

Jews in Israel are worried about what’s going to happen next. We’re lost and confused as we try to straighten out our lives and act as if life is going on normally.

Closer to home, we see yellow ribbons on trees, hostage signs all around, and yet, antisemitism lives on here, just not as “revealed” as in other places. As for Israel, wherever you walk, there’s a sense of fear, worry, and anxiety.

We want freedom, a way to walk in the streets and not have to watch the skies for bombs. A way to reveal that you’re Jewish without worry. A way to feel comfortable in your own skin.

When I close my eyes to envision what freedom looks like, a picture-perfect image starts to form in my mind. People can walk down the streets, feeling the freedom in the air, being able to express their opinions and thoughts with carefree minds and without a worry in the world.

Hamas has taken away our sense of freedom. Will we allow it to have the satisfaction of seeing us helpless and lost? Feeling like all the hope in the world belongs to everyone besides us?

Or are we going to fight back, not only literally on the battlefield but also to feel free, even when we don’t? As author Stephen Covey once said, “Our ultimate freedom is the right and power to decide how anybody or anything outside ourselves will affect us.”

 

Ability to choose

Chen Mandelberg, Grade 7, Torah Academy

I once believed that the height of freedom meant my parents going out for the day and leaving me all alone with no homework to do.

Similarly, when bnei Yisrael were taken out of Egypt, although they were finally free, they were so used to slavery, they didn’t know how to react. Instead, they complained, longing for the small comforts that they had enjoyed in Egypt. The fish that they had eaten b’chinam in Egypt. But chinam is never free. It’s simply the wool that we pull over our eyes. The comfy blanket that allows us to carry on sleeping.

Before the horror of 7 October, we Jews were free. We were able to walk on the streets freely without having to worry. We could go to sleep at night without fearing for our sons and daughters, siblings, or partners. We never imagined for a second that they would go out one day and not come home. We could spend time with our loved ones without worrying that they could possibly be kidnapped or murdered.

And all this just because we’re Jews?

As crazy as it may seem, these are the times we now live in. But like every event in our lives, great or small, it gives us a choice: we can either choose to accept our reality and act accordingly, or try to hide from it. Sadly, throughout history, this has always been our reality and our choice.

From the Jews in the desert who lost an entire generation before they were truly free of their chains, to Queen Esther, who had to face the reality of no more being able to hide in the palace than the holy martyrs of Europe could hide from the Nazis.

But therein lies the secret to our freedom. Because we Jews are never victims. We never give up. We never stop fighting, growing, learning … hoping.

For in the end, as author Viktor Frankl taught us, from the depths of the hell of Auschwitz, freedom is only ever one thing – choice.

We cannot choose what happens to us, but we can choose to face it with courage, determination, and emunah (belief). May we all merit to that kind of choice this Pesach.

 

Freedom to do what’s right

Tzipi Kievman, Grade 8, Torah Academy

The definition of freedom is “the power to act, speak, or think how one wants”, but in my opinion, it can sometimes be the complete opposite. In this war, we witness again and again how doing whatever you want is the biggest threat to freedom.

By “acting however you want”, so many people are getting killed, tortured, kidnapped just because they’re Jewish or just happened to be visiting a family member in Israel. With people acting as they want, none of the aid is getting to the Palestinian civilians, and our hostages are probably far from Gaza by now.

People are speaking as they want to, spreading false information about the Israelis. People are being told how terrible they are for all the torture going on, but honestly, what other nation sends aid to the very country killing their people. All this false news leads to the propagation of hate, the very thing we’re trying to diminish.

So I don’t think that’s the definition of freedom, but I do believe that if people stopped telling lies, there would be freedom. If people knew what was actually going on in Israel, then maybe it would be stopped, and there might even be peace, and peace is a step closer to freedom.

People need to understand what’s going on before they spread rumours.

Freedom when you’re able to feel safe in your own home and aren’t scared of being murdered in your bed, when people don’t do whatever they feel like just because they want to. That kind of freedom leads to violence and death.

So I stand with the famous words of Peter Marshall, who said, “May we think of freedom not as the right to do whatever we please, but as the opportunity to do what’s right.”

 

Stand together

Daniela Sacks, Grade 8, Torah Academy

Israel is under attack

People start running, some start to pack

Sirens are ringing

People stop singing

Rockets are fired

People are tired

Some think it’s fake

But the army stands awake

Lots are injured as well as killed

The bomb shelters are filled

Some kidnapped, some mourn

But the hearts of the Jews aren’t torn

Stand together as one

Until this war is done

We pray day and night

And won’t go down without a fight

 

When ‘never again’ is now

Rivky Zwick, Grade 9, Torah Academy

Never again. We remember. Our people have left Egypt, the Holocaust is over, Israel finally belongs to us. Judaism is alive and thriving globally like never before.

And then it happened again. Simchat Torah, October 2023. There was joy and laughter. Communities and friends gathered together. Cups were raised, and the Torah was uncovered. The celebrations lasted long into the night.

The devastating news lingered over the community the very next day, with remnants of the previous night’s celebrations still scattered in the wind. You could cut the anguish in the air with a knife.

Never again happened again. Our people have been targeted, lives have been lost, and our cries have been lifted to the heavens in desperation. And now, six months later, we find ourselves in the month of Nissan, zman cherotenu (the time of our freedom). Our oppressors still hold our people in captivity, bombs and missiles still fall, and tears still stain our faces.

In a world where free speech is encouraged and embraced, our voices have been silenced by the comment section, and individuals that wish to extinguish our everlasting flame.

As Pesach approaches, it’s becoming clear that our people simply cannot achieve freedom through the world’s acceptance of us. Because the world never will accept us. It will continue to turn a blind eye and a deaf ear towards the truth. These facts are rightfully hard to accept, as people shouldn’t have to accept prejudice and let injustice roll off their shoulders, especially when it’s towards their own kind.

The story about the Jews in the time of Pesach teaches us what it actually means to be free. At a time when the Jews were tied down to slavery and cruelty, they were able to take an Egyptian g-d and put it on the fire, for all to see. Their fear and shame were overruled by their Jewish pride.

From them, we learn that freedom is a state of mind far more then it’s a physical entity. Freedom is sitting around the seder table with our matzah and our wine, singing our songs and raising our cups to the fact that the hand that Hashem reached out to us in Egypt is still holding on tight.

As the Jewish nation, we must come to terms with the fact that for as long as our feet walk on the earth and our lungs breathe the air, we’ll be a free nation.

Am Yisrael Chai vechofshi. (The nation of Israel is alive and free.)

 

Boundaries and brotherhood

Yael Hurwitz, Grade 9, Torah Academy

A man stands on a flat roof in the wind and the rain. He takes a step towards the edge, and then another, until there’s space only for three more steps.

A man stands on a well fenced roof in the wind and the rain. He safely walks up to edge of the roof until he’s resting against the fence.

For the safety of the man on the unfenced roof, he cannot go so far to the edge, but when a fence is put up, the man on the roof can walk up until the edge of the roof. The same fence that represents restrictions, allows freedom.

Ironically, I feel most free when I’m in a locked house with high walls, fencing, and burglar bars on every tightly closed window.

As a Jewish female living in South Africa, I’m the freest when everything around me is locked up.

In an ideal world, I wouldn’t be bothered about safety in my home. Yet safety in my own home is one of my most anxiety provoking obsessions.

Being a female in the 21st century, relates me to many real-life horror stories I’ve heard, most of which have happened to women.

Being located in South Africa, it’s pretty self-explanatory. Just ask an American, and they will tell you how we’re constantly escaping cheetahs’ jaws and being trampled by elephants.

Above all, as a Jew, our circumstances force the clock to tick slower than my stumbled Hebrew reading. It’s almost as if since 7 October, time has stood still. As a Jewish people, we’ve held our breath, waiting for the release of our families. And we’re just that. A Jewish people that stands together united as one, like family. Family that argues sometimes, don’t get me wrong, but nonetheless a family that sticks together, until mechitzas do us part.

In order for us to feel truly free at such a restricting time, we need boundaries that allow us to walk far and friendships to rely on. We need perseverance to get us through the hardships. Most importantly, we need ourselves because we’re constantly with ourselves. And trust me, I’m always talking to myself.

 

Keeping the faith

Yael Naparstek, Grade 10, Torah Academy

“Dad what’s the update?”

“Four hundred dead, 240 injured.”

A chill courses down my spine, leaving me in a state of vulnerability. It’s as though a fragment of my being is halfway across the globe, engulfed in agony and consumed by concern. The weight of the world bears down on me, amplifying the depth of my anguish and despair. I’m at a loss for words because my mind cannot comprehend what has happened.

“Dad what’s the update?”

“Eight hundred dead, 900 injured, 40 captive.”

The escalating numbers make me ache physically. What could propel an individual to perpetrate such acts of terror? To what extent must the dead have transgressed, evoking such severe repercussions through collective retribution? A day revered as one of the happiest among my people now bears an unremovable red stain. The magnitude of our loss and depths of our suffering doesn’t seem to end.

“Dad, what’s the update?”

“One thousand four hundred dead, 2 000 injured, 220 captive.”

He utters those words with a suitcase in hand, his foot poised in the doorway. The festivities have drawn to a close, yet I hesitate to reach for the phone. I observe my father’s uncertain smile directed at my mother, his gaze lingering on our home and family, uncertain if he’ll return. With a fleeting moment of hesitation, he steps into the car and departs, never casting a backward glance.

In the face of suffering and heartache, the concept of freedom has deeper significance. It becomes more than just about being physically obstructed, embodying the resilience of the human spirit and the ability to find solace and strength even in the darkest of times. As we navigate through a world turned upside down, the challenge lies in learning to reclaim a sense of normalcy amidst chaos and uncertainty. Yet if anything, history has shown us that our people possess a hereditary capacity to endure and persevere, even in the most difficult circumstances.

In a world marked by prejudice and hatred, where antisemitism has a clear presence, there’s a profound sense of liberation in knowing that we’re not alone. In spite of the animosity directed towards us, we find refuge in the unwavering presence of a higher power, guiding and protecting us through storms of adversity. In this steadfast faith, we discover a true sense of freedom – not bound by the limitations of our circumstances, but empowered by the knowledge that we’re never forsaken, always supported by the divine hand that guides our path.

As the festival commemorating our liberation from Egypt approaches, let it be a reminder of what we’ve endured. Let this difficult time only strengthen, empower, and unite us a nation.

 

Unity is strength

Jarred Zolty, Grade 12, Cape Town Torah High

It has been just more than six months since the atrocity that was the 7 October massacre, and still we don’t have all the hostages back, nor are we yet at a time of peace. Jews around the world continue to suffer from aggressive demonstrations of blatant antisemitism in no way limited to anti-Zionism.

Jews have to be even more cautious while doing mundane everyday things, especially on university campuses globally. Locally, going on the promenade on the wrong day can be dangerous.

As the festival of freedom approaches this year, we must all take a moment to be grateful to have full tables and think about the families that have an empty chair at their Pesach seders. Freedom for them will be having their children, siblings, or parents return home, but freedom for us will be when we can freely practice our faith without any fear of facing a protest; when we’re free of our haters preventing us from living our belief as Jews.

Freedom for Israel is being able to fight a war in the most moral way and not receiving hate from other countries or being told how to fight in a better way. Freedom for Israel would be to lose the expectation of being held to a higher standard of fighting, and fight a just war as morally as it already does. Freedom for us is being able to go to university and feel accepted for who we are. Freedom for me is when the Jewish people are free from infighting, when everyone puts aside their personal political views as well as their level of observance, and stands together as one nation. That’s why this year above all else, I can thank G-d that we’re a free nation.

 

Our superpower

Rachel Ginsberg, Grade 9, Cape Town Torah High

In 2024, in light of what happened in Israel on 7 October 2023, the country’s war against Hamas, and rising antisemitism in the world, when we call for freedom, what exactly are we asking for and what does it look like?

Following 7 October, there has been a rise in antisemitism in the world. At the same time, there has been a rise in unity among all Jews everywhere, no matter how religious, no matter how Zionist. Amidst all of this hatred and evil, there’s hope and strength. This is the superpower of the Jews: to unite in the face of adversity. There are now pro-Israel rallies, and many Jews are calling for freedom, but what does it even mean?

According to the Cambridge Dictionary, “Freedom is the condition or right of being able or allowed to do, say, think whatever you want to, without being controlled or limited.”

There are many types of freedom too: freedom of speech, freedom of action, freedom of choice, freedom of thought, freedom of information, and freedom from injustice or persecution. I find it interesting that everyone is calling for freedom when Jews haven’t had freedom from injustice, freedom of speech, freedom of information, or freedom of thought since 7 October.

Freedom takes many different forms for many different people. For me, freedom looks like a society based on discussion and truth. For me, it looks like a society with no need for hate speech, violence, or other forms of persecution. Freedom is a society with no need for control. Freedom is being able to walk down the street without people shouting, “Free Palestine!”. Freedom is being able to say anything related to Israel to antisemites without being shouted at. Freedom is being able to be yourself without judgement or hatred. Freedom is existing in peace with everyone else, and for everyone else to exist in peace with you.

 

Ins and outs of being an ingroup

Misha-Lee Freinkel, Grade 7, King David Victory Park

Freedom is a word that I struggle to understand because I live in freedom. I’ve never been oppressed or not allowed to go somewhere or do something. The greatest limitation is when my parents say no.

For me, 7 October led to some serious conversations, and I was banned from watching TikTok. To visualise freedom for Israel and the Jews, we need to understand what antisemitism is. Antisemitism is an interesting topic, and although I’ve learnt about it for Purim, Pesach, and a bit about the Holocaust, I’ve never experienced it.

For me, antisemitism is about ingroups and outgroups. The ingroups are those who dislike the outgroups for being different – in this case smart and successful.

What does freedom look like? The obvious answer is for Hamas to stop attacking Israel, release the hostages, and for them to let us live our lives and the Gazans live theirs.

However, since the root cause of hatred is deeper than the current war, freedom starts with a conversation where both sides truly want to live in peace. The world needs to respect that and not have ignorant opinions about what we should be doing.

I’m told that antisemitism will always exist, just like racism and sexism.

Accepting this isn’t weak, it’s a way of freeing ourselves from how others see us. There will always be a need to educate and to try to change negative perceptions, but if we allow ourselves to be so caught up in fighting against the negative, our minds cannot be free.

Sometimes the ingroup is seen as being the outgroup by those who aren’t part of it. The Jews are the chosen nation, and therefore we see ourselves as being an ingroup. So, whereas the world may see us as outcasts, we see ourselves as special.

As antisemitism has been voiced more and more, so the Jews across the world have put their differences aside and become closer than ever before. Freedom means being who you are and the best version of who you can be.

After 7 October, freedom isn’t only living in peace, it’s seeing people as people and knowing that having a different view of the world isn’t bad. It’s just not worth killing each other over.

 

In dark tunnels, we create light

Daniel Segal, Grade 10, King David Victory Park

We’re resilient, we’re Jewish.

The phrase, “7 October” ignites feelings of trauma, grief, and fear. It’s the catalyst for uncontrolled and increased antisemitism globally. It’s a day that will forever be engrained deeply in all our neshomas, but for all the wrong reasons.

As a proudly Jewish Grade 10 student, I often find myself consumed by the horrific headlines, statistics ,and stories centred on the ongoing war and tragedy. In today’s advanced technological times, there’s simply no escaping it.

However, we [the Jewish people] are special. Often, in times of hardships and pain, others simply accept defeat. Not us! When the tunnel is dark and feelings of fear, uncertainty, and danger try to overwhelm us, we create light, we never search for it. The darkness of 7 October tried to drown us, but we didn’t let it.

Globally, we united as one proud Jewish nation. Millions of Jewish people sang and continue to sing in one collective voice the words of Acheinu. Empowering and uplifting those fighting for our beloved eretz Yisroel. We used our voices to ignite a flame that to this day allows us to navigate the darkness, a flame that will never diminish.

Moreover, we will forever be using our voices to call for freedom.

Freedom is vital. It allows you to live a life in which your actions are dictated by yourself, not the rulings and actions of others. When reflecting on 7 October and its aftermath, I realise that the Jewish people’s freedom is often restricted by others. Antisemitic behaviour has an impact in diminishing our freedom. The comments, the rallies, the physical attacks, these antisemitic actions are intended to force us into a hole in which we feel unsafe to portray ourselves as proud Jewish people.

So, when we as the Jewish nation call for our freedom, we’re not just muttering words that result in no tangible outcome. Calling for our freedom results in a fundamental outcome, the basis of Judaism, namely unity. It means we’re empowered by each other in a way that we can continue living happy, Jewish lives. As when we stand together, hand in hand, fighting for our shared goal of Judaic freedom, we become one powerful, unstoppable people that radiates with pride. Our freedom will never be taken away from us!

We call for the freeing of our hostages; and we call for freedom to be accepted globally. We call for our freedom. Our united voice will be heard!

 

Thousands of years of resilience

Josh Woolf, Grade 10, King David Victory Park

“For to be free isn’t merely to cast off one’s chains, but to live in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others.” – Nelson Mandela

Freedom. A word presenting hope and new horizons but laced in a background of captivity and destruction. For what is freedom truly worth without its counterpart: slavery and imprisonment?

Simchat Torah 5784. Hamas launches an attack on an unsuspecting Israel, resulting in more than 1 300 civilians murdered and 240 kidnapped and taken hostage. A massacre of a magnitude which hasn’t been seen in Israel in roughly 80 years arrives – bang – on our doorstep!

This counterpart of freedom is nothing new for us Jews. For thousands of years, we’ve suffered at the hands of our enemies. On 7 October, Hamas showed the world that the suffering continues.

Jews’ ongoing struggle for freedom is more visible to us now than ever before in our lifetime. The destruction of homes and countless families; settlements with desolate and death-ridden streets. Today, the Jewish nation is subject to extremist antisemitic terrorists, who are masters at manipulating the audiences behind differing mediums, diminishing our freedom. We want to be free of the propaganda and undeserved prejudice. We call for people to stop believing the first read headline. Research. Find out more. Seek the truth. Don’t let narrow-minded explanations suffice.

Through newspapers, television, and social media, protests of hate and violence, people all over the globe call for our annihilation. Our enemy has cunningly placed “reporters” ready to conduct interviews condemning Israeli forces for war crimes they haven’t committed.

Innocent people are being held hostage on your soil! We call for their immediate release, and for their freedom. #Bringthemhome #Letourpeoplego

This article began with the words of none other than Nelson Mandela. As a Jewish South African, I feel disappointed in my government. A nation that has a rich understanding of discrimination and injustice refuses to acknowledge the severity and reality of our conflict. For me, freedom means not being exposed to hate speech and racism by a fellow South Africans.

It’s not easy for me to approach such a complex topic. It’s not easy for Jews to get up and keep going. But we do. There’s a certain maturity that Jews have been forced to adopt in order to survive. We know the true value of freedom. We understood it when we left the cruel hands of Pharoah and crossed the Red Sea, just as we will realise it today.

As you set your seder table, create matzah-balls, and revise our swift exit from Mitzrayim, keep in mind that you embody the rare characteristic of Jewish resilience, a trait which humanity cannot take away from us.

 

Free to feel more connected

Saul Ephron, Grade 10, King David Victory Park

The smell of Pesach is in the air, my family is scattered all over the house, my relatives searching for the hidden afikomen. I’ve waited a whole year for this, the feeling of spending a few nights with the people I love the most. I’m astonished as we say all the brachot for the seder that the one thing we all have in common is bringing us together – our Judaism.

Pesach this year feels a little different. Yes, we’re commemorating the end of the imprisonment that the Jews went through in the land of Egypt, simply because they all had one thing in common, they were Jewish, but this year, you could also say that we’re imprisoned, mentally, physically, and spiritually as a result of events happening in our homeland, Israel.

People feel hopeless, trapped, and cornered. They feel as if their freedom has been stripped from them. However, I feel the opposite. The war has made me feel more connected to the people around me and more aware of my surroundings. I feel more confident in my own skin.

The reason for this is that my community is behind me. I’m lucky enough to go to a strong Jewish school that allows me to have a safe environment to reflect and discuss the conflict and encourages me to think critically about current affairs in the world and in the Jewish community.

I don’t need to call for freedom, unlike the Jews in the past in the story of Pesach, because I’ve got strong minded people around me who will stand by me, cherish me, and keep me safe.

This year at the seder table, I envision my family and feeling free, not because the Jews are free, but because we can stand together in adversity, and be united because we’re different, we’re Jewish.

 

End of the eclipse

Shira Ephron, Grade 12, King David Victory Park

The atrocities of 7 October won’t be an eclipse of Jewish history, a dark moment in time that silently passes over. As a young, Jewish liberal student living far from Israel, I hope the world can recognise that the actions that happened on that day were brutal towards Israelis, no matter the other side’s history. I hope the world listens to the children who grew up too quickly that day, to the women who were treated like rag dolls, and the families who grieve the loss. Freedom looks like open conversations and being able to learn from what occurred. I hope as Jews that in the future, we can strive for peace, even if it’s difficult, and not hate. As the chief rabbi said, “An eye for an eye can make the world blind.” As a student of history, I hope for freedom, and that society can realise that the conflict has sides. And as humans, we must look to both sides and realise that people are getting hurt in the crossfire of this war.

I hope that in the future, as a Jew, I won’t feel a shadow of fear lurk over me when I tell people my religion. I hope that I have freedom to feel safe in my identity. I hope that the innocent people in Gaza get a leadership that cares more for their well-being than the current leadership does. Because at the end of the day, mothers and fathers are losing their children to the political climate and poverty. I would be a hypocrite to use the word freedom if I pretended there no was suffering in Gaza too, no matter the reason or what side I’m on. Who’s free in this war? Who’s free from worry? I hope as Jews we can dance again, but never forget the eclipse of 7 October. And as people, we can understand that the actions were done by the other side because they know a different history. I hope freedom can dance hand in hand with empathy.

 

We’re no longer chained, but are we safe?

Zara Abramsohn, Grade 12, King David Victory Park

On Pesach, we celebrate the freedom of the Jewish people, the end of our suffering, and the beginning of our future as a united nation. Sometimes I cannot help but ask myself that even in this century, thousands of years after our escape from Egypt, are we as a Jewish people truly free? The modern call for freedom of the Jewish people isn’t asking for the breaking of our chains, rather it’s a call for safety.

The safety to believe in our religion.

Freedom for Jewish people is no longer defined by the simple terms “free” and “caged”. We’re not chained, we’re not slaves, rather we’re a nation which strives for the freedom to speak freely without fear, the freedom to call ourselves Jewish. To pray and celebrate our Jewish holidays. To be able to acknowledge our rich history. Freedom for me in these trying times is ingrained in my identity as a Jewish woman. To me, freedom is the ability to wear my school uniform proudly as a student of a Jewish school. To wear the Star of David on a necklace without the need to hide it. The ability to journey with a youth organisation to camp at the end of the year. To have a Batmitzvah. To stand under a chuppah when I get married.

The freedom that the Jewish people possess is exemplified in the ability to have our own state, Israel, a place that we can call home. It’s difficult to feel truly feel when faced with such adversity as the attacks that occurred on 7 October. When the freedom of the people of Israel is threatened, it’s felt by all of the Jewish people. When faced with the pain and suffering of Israel, the way I view my freedom has changed from an unaffected acknowledgment to an appreciation. We must recognise just how precious the freedom that we possess is. Our call for freedom is a call for the safety of the people living in Israel, the soldiers protecting Israel, the men and woman who are helping Jewish communities, both in Israel and in the diaspora. This Pesach, we mustn’t just celebrate the blossoming of our freedom from Egypt, but recognise the need to maintain this freedom as it’s precious.

 

Our responsibility to be good

Nachsi Bronstein, Grade 7, Torah Academy Boys High

Freedom is a way of expressing love for each other all around the world. No matter your religion, colour, and obviously your status, respecting each other’s religion is key to peace. As we can see in our world today, there’s no respect and just more conflict.

The world would feel safe, secure, and comfortable, no matter where you were. Then there wouldn’t be any war, fights, or problems. There wouldn’t be any more indoctrination of children, teaching them to hate some people, love others, and kill some. Rather, there would be only good amongst everyone. I hate it when there’s fighting, disrespect, and the inability to recognise the good we have in each other.

Our world today is in a bad place where unfortunately, no-one is looking for the good in others and they are being only pessimistic and negative. That’s why I feel we all have a personal responsibility that we can’t ignore. You can ask young Jewish boys to have a big impact on this world by going out and being kind, helping others, and always being positive even in bad situations. This will make the world at least just a little more positive.

We all agree that hatred gets us nowhere, and is creating war and a divide. The hatred that Hamas has for us isn’t going to get them anywhere, but rather, if we have peace, it will just reduce the amount of death and limit the fighting. We need the fighting to end. Let’s have peace and love for one another, and let’s express ourselves in a good way. Through this will come freedom. I also believe that just by interacting with different people, it creates tolerance and reduces hatred, which will lessen the death toll, which keeps getting higher.

My message to everyone is that final revelation will come through love for each other.

 

Victory is belief in Hashem

Yisroel Simpson, Grade 9, Torah Academy Boys High

Being free means being able to live your life without being undermined because of your beliefs. Nowadays unfortunately, that’s just what’s happening. Jews are being attacked and persecuted just because they are Jews. But this isn’t a new phenomenon. For thousands of years, Jews have been oppressed, expelled, and tortured for the crime of being Jewish. It has happened during the Holocaust, pogroms, expulsions, 7 October massacre, dating all the way back to biblical times.

But throughout all of these years, the one thing we have in common is that we’ve made it through, in spite of being a relatively small nation. This isn’t because of military strength or diplomatic relations, which are of course important, but because of Hashem, who helps us through all our challenges. When we all realise that victory isn’t the result of our own power, and we trust completely in Hashem, we’ll merit to have everlasting peace and freedom without any concern of future attacks or threats.

 

The right to feel safe everywhere

Yitzchok Pink, Grade 9, Torah Academy Boys High

The date 7 October definitely changed my perspective on freedom. Before 7 October, freedom meant becoming more independent as an adult. But since 7 October, it has become centred on being Jewish.

With all that’s happened since 7 October, it feels like as a people we’re under attack. It’s no secret – we still have hostages in Gaza, and antisemitism is rampant.

Freedom before 7 October was a given, but now in April 2024, it’s a hazy vision ahead. Freedom now means being able to be a proud Jew anywhere in the world. Freedom now means having the right to our homeland without it being questioned. I’ve always felt that freedom should be a right, not a privilege, that every person in any country should have. And there are lots of organisations working for human rights and freedom for people all over the world. And while as Jews, we have lots of Jewish organisations fighting for us, we don’t have the world fighting for us. As time has gone by since 7 October, our allies have started to dwindle in support.

The fact that Jewish people everywhere at times feel anxious and nervous when travelling is a problem. Maybe I’m naive, but I can’t think of another people who would have to be nervous when travelling other than Jews. Obviously, there are other people who are prosecuted for their beliefs like Christians in northern Africa and non-religious Muslims in Afghanistan and Iran, but it’s not a global issue for them.

Jews should be able to feel safe anywhere and everywhere. We should be free to travel anywhere and everywhere. We should be free to live anywhere and everywhere. We should have the freedom of any other person. And it’s not just us, innocent Palestinians in Gaza should be free to live under a non-Hamas government. The hostages should have the freedom to live in peace. Israel should have the freedom to defend itself without the world questioning it.

Because freedom is a right and our right to freedom is being compromised.

We’re not free until our family is free

Chayale Finkelstein and Mushka Feinblum, Grade 10, Torah Academy

While our sun rose, so did theirs.

While we went to shul, they went to war.

While we sang, they bled.

Kol Yisrael areivim zeh lazeh. (All Jews are responsible for each other.) On 7 October, our brothers and sisters were brutally attacked as if they weren’t human. Our principal, Morah Rebecca Sarchi, asked us to raise our hands if any of us had lost a family member in the conflict. When we looked around, there was a single person with a raised hand. Morah asked her who she had lost, and she replied that every girl should be raising their hand as every Jew is a part of our family – klal Yisrael – (#mytwin).

The holiday of Pesach is focused on freedom and redemption of the Jewish nation. This year, it’s even more important to take the lessons to heart. We may not feel the war firsthand, but we’re not truly free until our entire family is free as well. May Pesach this year bring freedom with the coming of Moshiach.