How soon is too soon? School trips to October 7 sites

My daughter’s high school is organizing a trip to one of the communities affected by the October 7 massacre. The invitation arrived in a school-wide email, framed in the language of solidarity, remembrance, and national identity. The students are expected to bear witness to what happened there.

And I don’t know if I want her to go.

This is not because I question the need to remember. On the contrary, remembrance is central to how we process collective trauma. But when the loss is still recent and its meaning still unsettled, how should we approach it? When does remembrance help, and when might it cross into something else?

Across the world, school trips to sites of national tragedy are meant to educate, build empathy, and connect students to a shared history. In Israel, this often includes visits to Holocaust museums, battle sites, or cemeteries. But what does it mean when the event being commemorated occurred recently? When the emotional dimensions are unresolved, how should we guide students through the experience?

The term “trauma tourism” is often used to describe visits to sites of atrocity that risk turning suffering into spectacle. The term usually applies to foreign visitors. But in this case, we are speaking of young Israelis, many of whom already carry psychological weight from recent events. Does that make the visit more urgent — or more fraught?

The key concern is not the trip itself, but the context and intention. Will the experience help students process the weight of what happened, or will it ask them to engage with something whose meaning is still too raw to be fully grasped? Will they be encouraged to engage thoughtfully and reflectively, with the emotional support and context such visits require?

There is no single right answer. Some parents will see this trip as a vital act of witness. Others may worry it asks too much of students too soon. Some may wonder whether such visits allow space for emotional processing, or if they risk appropriating a past that is not yet past. Others will find meaning in standing on the very ground where tragedy occurred.

What matters is that we ask these questions, openly and without judgment. Teachers and school leaders have a dual responsibility: to shape memory with care, and to support the moral and emotional development of their students. Preparing young people to encounter trauma requires more than logistics. It requires a framework. Students need space to process what they see. They need permission to ask difficult questions. They need guidance that encourages reflection, not just reaction.

This moment calls for thoughtful education, with careful attention to timing and sensitivity. When does commemoration serve healing, and when does it risk deepening fear? When are students ready to carry this weight, and how can we help them do so in a way that supports resilience rather than trauma?

These questions may not have simple answers, but they deserve careful thought. As educators and parents, we play a role in how memory is introduced and interpreted. Recent events carry real weight, and how we approach them requires patience and care.

The way we remember matters. So does the timing. What we choose to highlight, and when, will help determine how future generations understand this moment.