Gaza's Children Desperately Need Education to Heal from Trauma
As I watched the ceasefire take hold, my emotions were a jumbled mix of joy and dread. But it was clear that there would be no quick return to normal life in Gaza anytime soon. For me, as an English teacher, this realization underscored the importance of education – not just for the children of Gaza but for their future themselves.
The scars of two years of genocide still lingered, leaving a deep impact on those who survived the conflict. As I watched my students, ranging from six to 12 years old, attempt to learn in makeshift classrooms without even basic school supplies, it broke my heart. Pens and books had become scarce commodities, making learning feel like an impossible dream.
The lack of resources forced educators to get creative with teaching strategies, relying on group recitation, oral storytelling, and songs to bring education to life. Despite the odds against them, the children's determination to learn was inspiring. I saw it in their eager eyes as they struggled with scraps of paper, collecting whatever materials they could find to scribble out a lesson.
In one poignant moment, I shared my grandmother's old notebook with my students, filling its pages with stories of hope and resilience. As the paper ran out, we faced another day without pens or pencils – a harsh reminder of the war's ongoing grip on Gaza.
While humanitarian aid has begun to flow back into the region, it is not enough to address the urgent need for educational supplies. Books, pens, and paper are not just school materials; they are lifelines that can help children in Gaza overcome their trauma, regain structure and self-assurance, and envision a brighter future.
The recovery of these 600,000 schoolchildren requires more than just aid – it demands investment in education as a means of community healing and psychological rehabilitation. We owe it to them to give them the opportunity to write, learn, and dream again.
As I watched the ceasefire take hold, my emotions were a jumbled mix of joy and dread. But it was clear that there would be no quick return to normal life in Gaza anytime soon. For me, as an English teacher, this realization underscored the importance of education – not just for the children of Gaza but for their future themselves.
The scars of two years of genocide still lingered, leaving a deep impact on those who survived the conflict. As I watched my students, ranging from six to 12 years old, attempt to learn in makeshift classrooms without even basic school supplies, it broke my heart. Pens and books had become scarce commodities, making learning feel like an impossible dream.
The lack of resources forced educators to get creative with teaching strategies, relying on group recitation, oral storytelling, and songs to bring education to life. Despite the odds against them, the children's determination to learn was inspiring. I saw it in their eager eyes as they struggled with scraps of paper, collecting whatever materials they could find to scribble out a lesson.
In one poignant moment, I shared my grandmother's old notebook with my students, filling its pages with stories of hope and resilience. As the paper ran out, we faced another day without pens or pencils – a harsh reminder of the war's ongoing grip on Gaza.
While humanitarian aid has begun to flow back into the region, it is not enough to address the urgent need for educational supplies. Books, pens, and paper are not just school materials; they are lifelines that can help children in Gaza overcome their trauma, regain structure and self-assurance, and envision a brighter future.
The recovery of these 600,000 schoolchildren requires more than just aid – it demands investment in education as a means of community healing and psychological rehabilitation. We owe it to them to give them the opportunity to write, learn, and dream again.