Gimme Shelter When the Sirens Wail

Under Siege, Israelis Still Show Their Noblest Face

The last time that a missile attack caught me in the middle of a teaching day was three weeks ago. I was between classes when a message boomed over the school’s intercom:

“Missile attack is imminent. Move calmly to your designated bomb shelters. This is not a drill.” Calm? In a building of 650 stressed out kids? Good luck with that. They still remember last month’s attack when the tail section of a Houthi missile landed just 50 meters away. As our students hurried in to bomb shelters, I dashed outside.
Huh?

Are we still the caring, ethical nation that lives by its principles?

On my way to school an hour before, I passed a group of men working on the outdoor lighting. I interrupted the group chatting in Arabic to ask if I could salvage one of the old components they were going to toss in the garbage. They sent me away with a bag full of parts that we’d use in our next physics class.

Then came the sirens.

I sprinted out to the group as they were finishing up work and showed them the red “ALERT” screen. “Missiles, you can’t be out here! Come with me.” Instead, they bolted toward a pickup truck as I reached our security guard…who unlocked the gate and hustled me down to shelter.

Later, I spoke with the guard, a short, burly guy who spoke with a heavy Russian accent.
“So, what do we do when the next alert happens? We can’t just leave people outside in a missile attack.”

I expected an argument, pushback, a brush-off or even a fight. The response was reassuring, even humbling.

“You know, it’s complicated. We’re a school, so legally we can’t allow anyone inside, even parents, unless they passed a background check. But we’re not going to leave people outside or put their lives in danger. I’ll talk to the Kabat (the security officer for the yishuv) and we’ll figure out how to handle this in the future. Thanks for asking me.”

And just like that, it was over. Kids returned to classrooms. The workers were long gone. And I headed home carrying my electrical parts as well as a question:

Are we still the caring, ethical nation that lives by its principles? Is the Jewish State still a place that reflects the values of inclusion, caring and respect for all people in their time of need? Is this country still a place worth fighting for?

In so many ways the answer is still unreservedly, yes.