The Media’s Blind Spot to Israeli Student Struggle
Much has been publicized of the antisemitism American Jewish students have experienced on campus. Yet, the challenges faced by Israeli students, my peers, remain largely concealed. The Israeli effects are not abstract, but deeply personal realities, which deserve global attention. As a Modern Orthodox Jew who has lived in both the United States and Israel, I see a stark contrast between these two settings. While my fellow American Jews have been able to distance themselves from the October 7th massacre, the Israeli people can not escape from what transpired. It needs to be clear that while it is important for American Jews to take pride in keeping Zionism and the safety of Israel on the forefront of their minds, for Israelis it is a matter of survival.
One of the many horrific antisemitic instances covered by the media reported a mob of pro-Palestinian students at Cooper Union surrounding and trapping their Jewish classmates in the school library. This occurrence, and the countless of other hateful acts towards Jewish students that have taken place on campuses across the United States, are heartbreaking and unacceptable. No one should feel unsafe expressing their identity or supporting Israel, especially on college campuses. Without diminishing these horrific challenges, I find it crucial for both the media and for Jews around the world to highlight and take into account the painful things that Israeli students have to endure.
The world often ignores that we are still in a war zone, surrounded by seven enemy fronts who want to abolish Israel. Social media and online platforms influence how Israel’s struggles are portrayed. The way algorithms work is that the louder, more popular voices tend to get more attention, while stories like ours can easily get lost. Posts about our challenges are often buried under bigger trends or simply disregarded. This creates echo chambers where people are only shown the views they already agree with, rather than learning the full picture. Social media has the power to shape people’s perception. As a result, the daily sacrifices we face are neglected, and the world’s attention is shifted away from our reality.
I am an Israeli-American student at Reichman University, a campus that, like others in Israel, is deeply scarred by the ongoing conflict. In Israel, life is often punctuated by tragedy and responsibility. Imagine studying while texting friends and family on the frontlines, walking past memorials for classmates lost, and missing weeks of school for reserve duty, all while facing the uncertainty of returning home unchanged—or not at all. Fellow students are either Nova survivors or are from Israel’s south and have lost family and friends. Around me, friends and classmates, the same age as American college students, postpone, come and go, or leave their studies indefinitely for reserve duty, putting their lives on hold and often at risk. Idan Shtivi was supposed to be a student at Reichman this year, just like me. For an entire year I walked past the poster which translated into English stated, “Idan was also supposed to return to his studies.” Despite our hopes and prayers, exactly a year after the massacre, we found out that Idan had been murdered on the day he was kidnapped.
Israeli students’ lives are a constant balancing act of academics, national service, and emotional resilience. In every classroom on campus there are signs pointing towards the closest bomb shelter, because there are times in the middle of class when we have rocket sirens. We are expected to leave the protected space and return to class unfazed. These sacrifices are unseen and unacknowledged by the world, yet they shape who we are as a generation and a people. Israeli students are not just individuals pursuing degrees; we are young people shouldering the burdens and trauma of a nation. The world must recognize our struggles not out of pity, but as a call to understand the cost of living in constant conflict.
I write this not to compare suffering, but to call attention to a gap in global awareness. While American Jewish students contend with the rise of antisemitism, Israeli students face a different kind of reality—one where the stakes are not just ideological but existential. This digital reality not only isolates us further, but also denies us the empathy afforded to others in conflict zones. I find it essential for the need to share perspectives to the world: both the on-the-ground resilience of Israeli students and the vocal advocacy of American Jewish students. Together, we can ensure that the story of our people continues to be told.
As a people, we are resilient, but resilience does not mean invulnerability. It is time the media finally turned the world in our favor so we can be seen for who we are: young people striving for a future amidst the weight of war.