How Do We Explain That “Never Again” Happened Again?
October 7th, 2023, is a day that numbs me to the core. It’s not just another page in the calendar or a date marked in history; it’s a searing moment that grips my mind with a vice of dread and sorrow. How do you explain to the next generation that, on a seemingly ordinary day, the world shifted in a way that exposes the fragility of humanity? The massacre, the violence, the complete unraveling of the fabric that holds people together — it’s hard to know where to begin.
How do you even start to tell the next generation about a day where the foundations of what we thought were true, about peace, stability, and even decency, cracked open? I can’t just brush it aside with clichés like “never forget” or “learn from the past.” This wasn’t some abstract event on a grainy history channel documentary — this was real, visceral, and brutal. A wake-up call, but one that came at a cost so steep it leaves me speechless.
To explain October 7th is to try to wrap our heads around the idea that humanity still has a dark, unforgiving edge. The bloodshed and hatred that was unleashed didn’t just stay in one corner of the world — it resonated globally, hitting communities, families, and individuals who may have never set foot in the Middle East but who felt the ripple effects in their bones. This isn’t just about one region; it’s about what happens when the human condition devolves into chaos, when the veil of civility is ripped apart, and we’re left staring at something so primal, so horrifying, that it challenges our sense of what it means to be human.
And yet, how do I explain this without sounding cynical, without embedding fear into the next generation? How do I impart the gravity of October 7th without passing on the weight of trauma?
The truth is, we have to. There’s no ducking it. We owe it to the next generation to explain why this day mattered, why it changed so much, why it can never be forgotten. But it’s not about feeding them fear — it’s about arming them with awareness. The next generation needs to know that the world is not always kind, and in its moments of cruelty, we must still hold onto the principles of empathy, justice, and resilience.
October 7th, for me, is about questioning how a massacre, so rooted in political, cultural, and religious complexities, still boils down to the simple fact that innocent lives were lost. It’s not just the Jews affected by the day; it’s humanity at large. It’s the reminder that, while borders and conflicts may shift, the cost in human lives is a constant that should haunt us.
To the next generation, I want to say this: The world is complicated, and the systems we build, the ideologies we subscribe to — they can fail us. They can fail spectacularly. But that doesn’t mean we have to fall into despair. Learn about October 7th. Learn about what led to it, learn about the people who were caught in its crosshairs, and learn why it’s crucial to fight against the tides of hatred and extremism that bubble beneath the surface, ready to erupt at any moment.
If October 7th teaches us anything, it’s that vigilance is necessary, and that hope can only exist when we confront horror head-on. We can’t sanitize it. We can’t put a bow on it and move on. It’s ugly, it’s painful, and it’s raw — but the next generation has to understand that the path forward requires us to face these things, not shy away from them.
I find myself grappling with how to deliver this message, because I’m still processing it myself. How do you explain an event that numbs you to the core?
By being honest.
By saying, “I don’t have all the answers, and maybe you won’t either, but we must keep asking the questions.”
What I hope for the next generation is that they will learn to channel this moment of terror into a force for something better. We cannot let this day become just another marker of tragedy. It has to be a catalyst for change, a reason to push forward and demand more from ourselves, our leaders, and our world.
So how do I explain this day to the next generation? With brutal honesty, with a sense of purpose, and with the hope that by understanding this day, they will work to ensure we don’t see another like it. That’s the task. That’s the responsibility. That’s what makes October 7th a date not just of grief, but of reflection on what it means to protect the future.
