The “seniors” — 12th graders — at ORT Danziger High School celebrated the end of high school just a few kilometers from the Lebanon border, in a region that has repeatedly been affected by fighting.
The ceremony, held after six years marked by instability, starting with COVID pandemic, displacement and disruption, focused on childhood years defined by war and uncertainty. While one might have expected subdued students, the opposite emerged: a presentation of maturity, strength and life experience shaped by their circumstances.
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The 'seniors' — 12th graders — at ORT Danziger High School celebrated the end of high school just a few kilometers from the Lebanon border
(Photo: Yuval Chen)
“Words can’t describe the six years we went through,” said Maya Aizik, who was evacuated with her family to Herzliya during the war. “It’s living in a reality where nothing is stable or taken for granted. But I feel like we overcame everything and made the most of it. We know how to deal with hardship and see the good in life.”
Ofir Haliva was evacuated with his family to Tel Aviv. “I feel a sense of loss because we are not as united and connected as a regular class that went through all six years together,” he said. “No one can understand what it means to leave home thinking it’s for a week and come back after a year and a half to a life where rocket attacks are routine.”
Roy Friedman was evacuated with his parents and six siblings to Tel Aviv. “We’ve been living for years in uncertainty, not knowing where you’ll be in a week. There were also many disappointments every time the evacuation was extended,” he said. “But in the end, it was also a huge experience not every teenager has. I learned to see the good and enjoy life.”
Roy Tiar expressed pain over the reality in his broken hometown. “After the army I will establish myself in central Israel because there are more opportunities there. We saw that when we were in Tel Aviv,” he said. “But God willing, I will return to Kiryat Shmona to raise my children here.”
That evening, everyone allowed themselves to smile, but Yuval Danan acknowledged it was not the full picture. “All the experiences we’ve had in recent years are also a burden that still sits on us,” she said. “It’s as if we’ve recovered, but what’s going on inside? There is still a long way to go.”
The security situation remains difficult for them. “There was a ceasefire here, but there were constant alarms and fire and it didn’t really stop anyone,” said Adi Atias. “Even now there is no security here and residents are leaving. I would like to live here in Kiryat Shmona, but in this situation, who would want to stay?”
Hadar Shefer, a 12th-grade homeroom teacher, accompanied her dozens of students even when they were dispersed across dozens of locations throughout the country. She lives in Kibbutz Amir, which was not evacuated despite its proximity to the border.
“We as a staff had to reinvent ourselves every time,” she said. “The past months were very difficult. Waking up in the morning after a sleepless night, with fears and anxiety because there is zero warning before a strike.”
“It meant receiving students for exams at school after they had repeatedly jumped out of cars into nearby shelters during alarms. Living here under interceptions and artillery fire.”
Now she says she is emotionally letting her students go. “As long as they return safely from the army, that’s the most important thing,” she said.
Principal Ofer Zafran moved among the students like a proud father. “A strong generation is leaving here, one that has learned to live in a changing reality,” he said. “They could earn a doctorate in that skill. They have enormous strength and resilience. They proved to us and to themselves that even the sky is not the limit. But it hurts me that they missed their high school years. For five of the six years, they were essentially not here.”