for Mark Thomas, for reminding me that education has always been our most important activism.

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“Our children will hold us accountable for why we did not teach them about what was happening in their world at this time in history. Why was what they were taught about global citizenship, critical thinking, courage and social justice not applied, and instead there was silence? We lead so we can create the conditions for our children to learn and understand why and how to treasure one another.”
--Anonymous School Leader

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I’ve been helping educators and leaders take on hard, controversial topics in global education for decades, with a particular focus on Israel/Palestine, but it’s never been as hard as it is right now. We constantly claim that global citizenship matters in our schools, and that we want to develop students’ global competencies. We include these goals in our school mission and vision statements, yet we shy away the moment it gets too hard. Context determines what we find most challenging in our particular region, and many wars throughout history can be controversial, depending on the makeup of our community. I recently worked with a leader in Asia who sees constant conflict between Japanese and Chinese students because of their countries’ history of war, and another who has a challenging mix of Ukrainian and Russian families in her school. War is always hard to teach when it’s personal for anyone in the room, but the war between Israel and Palestine is so divisive that it often leaves educators completely paralyzed. Yet as a school leader who I’m keeping anonymous told me recently, our students will hold us accountable for not teaching them about what’s happening in the world—and they should.

I spent many years working with the Research Journalism Initiative (RJI) to bring Palestinian voices into North American classrooms, and it was some of the most difficult work I’ve ever done—but among the most important. I live by the words of Arundhati Roy, who wrote that “There’s really no such thing as the ‘voiceless.’ There are only the deliberately silenced, or the preferably unheard.” Given that Israeli perspectives dominate the media, bringing Palestinian voices into the conversation was our core mission. As I wrote about RJI in The Global Education Guidebook: Humanizing K-12 Classrooms Worldwide Through Equitable Partnerships in 2017, our goal was to help “students see conflict not as a cut-and-dry topic with one right side and one that was definitively wrong, but rather as a complex dance of needs and rights in which all parties had their own truth to share.” Today, as the Israeli-Hamas war continues to play out on televisions around the world, teachers are once again challenged to find ways to teach perspectives in a thoughtful, pluralistic way, and to encourage young people to establish their own opinions only after they’ve allowed themselves to understand a myriad of perspectives. This is a nuanced, complex conflict with a nuanced, complex history; this article offers a few strategies to help educators navigate that complexity with students.

Before diving into more specific strategies, I want to share an update to the VUCA model I’ve used with educators for decades. VUCA was established by the US Military just after September 11^th, 2001, and the acronym describes our world as one filled with Volatility, Uncertainty, Complexity and Ambiguity. While this model still deserves exploration, a newer approach was offered by futurist Jamais Cascio in 2020 as a response to the limitations of the VUCA framework in capturing the profound and accelerating changes occurring in the world:

• Brittle: Global systems and structures, whether economic, political, or social, are increasingly fragile and prone to sudden shocks and breakdowns. Minor disruptions can have outsized and cascading effects.
• ‍Anxious: There is a pervasive sense of unease, worry, and anticipation of potential crises, driven by a range of factors such as climate change, geopolitical tensions, technological disruptions, and social upheaval.
• ‍Nonlinear: Cause-and-effect dynamics have become increasingly unpredictable, with small inputs often leading to large and unexpected outcomes. The future is difficult to forecast with any certainty.
• ‍Incomprehensible: The scale, complexity, and interconnectedness of our multifaceted global challenges have surpassed the ability of traditional frameworks and mental models to fully understand and make sense of them.

Consider starting your explorations by having learners analyze BANI first, looking for examples of these ideas in current events before even diving into Israel/Palestine. Doing so will provide a more universal framework that positions any specific conflict within a broader global context.

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Begin by establishing classroom agreements and common language to ensure constructive critical dialogue.

There are plenty of difficult topics to address in the classroom, but the Israeli-Palestinian conflict is one of the hardest—and the current war has been bringing the challenges into sharp focus for over a year now. How do we teach about a topic students often have deeply-ingrained opinions about before they enter the classroom? What might it look like to teach in a way that honors all perspectives and ensures students learn to engage in critical, constructive dialogue even when they feel outraged, confused, and threatened personally? We all enter the classroom with the biases that come from our lived experiences, even teachers; rather than leaving our identities at the door, the establishment of agreements helps ensure that all perspectives are honored, even in the most difficult conversations.

Educators can do a lot to build students’ skills in critical dialogue through specific agreements with learners about how we will try to remain respectful, how we’ll handle conflict when it arises, and even the language we agree to use. I recommend teachers co-construct agreements with students, so that they feel ownership over the norms your class or community will follow, rather than seeing them as rules imposed by educators. Agreements should not silence any one group or perspective, but should include elements like speaking from the I perspective about personal experiences and beliefs, leaning into discomfort, and listening to other’s perspectives with respect (which requires deconstructing what we mean by respect if that hasn't happened previously, and might even require a conversation about active listening). It may be necessary to reengage the agreements before every conversation or lesson on a controversial topic, and you may need to adapt agreements if a norm is no longer serving the group—but I always recommend that changing agreements happen with students, not for them.

Having a common language is also important for these conversations to go well, by which I mean an understanding of the nuances of language that can help us be accurate and specific. To equate Hamas with all Palestinians is an error, for example, as is connecting all Jews with Israeli political choices. What is islamophobia, what is antisemitism, and how might we avoid falling into these traps, even when we’re being critical of a given event or ideology? Not all Palestinians are Muslims, either—and not all Israelis are Jewish, practice Judaism, or agree with Israel’s political choices. And criticizing Israel isn’t necessarily antisemitic, just like criticizing Hamas isn’t necessarily islamophobia.

Whether or not the current war can be called genocide or ethnic cleansing is one of the most complicated language issues of the moment; while I personally believe the terms are accurate, I encourage educators to have a discussion about the words with students, and to agree to use what learners consider the most inclusive language to describe the conflict. The more specific we can be with our language, and the more consistently we build a common language with our students, the more effectively we can facilitate these hard conversations—ideally without losing our jobs. 

For more on establishing thoughtful agreements for difficult classroom conversations, see an article I wrote about the role of agreements in developing community and security, published when educators returned to the schoolhouse after the COVID pandemic.

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Establish what students think they know about the history of the region, and where they learned it.

One of the greatest challenges to understanding and teaching about this conflict is how consistently people conflate the current war with biblical storylines, claiming it dates back thousands of years. In reality, this is a modern conflict with a history of approximately 100 years, if we base it on the earliest modern occurrence of violence between Jews and Arabs in the region—and far less if we start from the creation of Israel in the 1940s or the occupation of Palestine in the 1960s. Understanding the tragedies of the Holocaust is part of this history, as is the increasingly brutal occupation of Palestine over the last sixty years. Students need to understand the details of that history—and the varied ways people interpret it, which often come from their religious or political leanings.

The best way I’ve found to teach that history is through understanding first what students think they know, where they learned it, and how they interpret it. This is not intended to debunk or defame any one set of interpretations, but to unpack and understand how personal experience and family history inform the views we consider truth. My own family has a long history of Zionism, but the very Jewish values I was raised with came into conflict with Zionist thinking when I was a teenager. That doesn’t mean my interpretation of events is more correct or truthful than anyone else’s; it just means that my lived experiences color how I see the world, just like they do for everyone. For readers interested in better understanding the experiences that caused me to push back against my family’s Zionist ideology and eventually leave Judaism entirely for political reasons, you can read my very personal chapter for Barbara Bray’s newest book, Grow Your Why.

To go beyond what students already know, I recommend student-led inquiry and use of resources that come from non-political organizations. Have students look at maps of the region over time, to understand how different events impacted ownership and control of land and essential resources. Consider events from the perspectives of all stakeholders, using a framework like the Universal Declaration of Human Rights or the Geneva Conventions to interpret them in different ways. Some educators find it valuable to draw parallels to the South African anti-Apartheid movement and the fight for Civil Rights in the United States; I recommend grounding such explorations in the writings of Nelson Mandela, Martin Luther King, DesmondTutu, and other leaders who had to choose between violent and non-violent resistance on their path to sovereignty.  

For resources on the impact of the Holocaust that helps students understand history in more nuanced ways, see Facing History and Ourselves. This organization has developed incredible resources for fostering an “upstander” mindset in students, which they are encouraged to implement any time they see injustice in action. Most importantly, remind students constantly that the goal is not to establish one truth, but to understand any given conflict from many cultural, religious, and political perspectives, and to stand up for what we believe is just.

Look at events from a variety of news sources, to recognize how each media outlet offers a particular perspective.

What students see in the media can make it hard to know which perspectives to believe. While most press organizations claim to offer unbiased reporting, this is far from true—and there is nothing more powerful than teaching students to recognize that bias and dig deeper to understand a given event or situation. If you don’t believe me, just watch the CBS interview with Ta-Nehisi Coates, aired on September 30, 2024, in which one anchor monopolized the interview and asked nothing but leading questions that stemmed from his own beliefs.

Rather than trying to establish one absolute truth, comparative media experiences invite students to understand events from many perspectives. The goal isn’t to decide what really happened, but to notice and deconstruct bias when we find it. When I led this work in schools, we also connected with locals who were there for a given event, which helped students understand bias as a natural result of experience—a challenge when hidden in “unbiased” media, but not necessarily a bad thing when we’re transparent about what we believe and why. In 2007, I developed a Comparative Media Worksheet for use with students in middle and high school, to help them notice perspectives in the news. Students and I would choose a recent event we wanted to investigate further in the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, and students would break into small groups to explore how different press sources had presented that same event. After a day or two of reading, analyzing, and filling in the chart, we would videoconference with at least one person who was there at the event, if possible. I used the same technique for news from Cuba, and it was equally effective, helping students notice the vast difference between how the Cuban news interpreted events and what was presented in the Miami Herald, for example.

When it's impossible to connect with an individual, try direct primary sources like “The Gaza Diaries” from the BBC, and “Wartime Diaries” from the Times of Israel. This step helps students understand bias as a natural result of experience—a challenge when hidden in “unbiased” media, but not necessarily a bad thing when we are transparent about what we believe and why. Be sure students finish the experience by reflecting on the wide variety of media, personal biases and perspectives they’ve encountered, ideally writing privately in journals about where their thinking is now.

Students I used these strategies with have told me, over 15 years later, that they still look beyond the headlines and search for additional perspectives when they read or watch the news, whatever the topic may be.

Make it More about People than Politics

Above all, explorations of conflict must be grounded in humanizing everyone involved, and in positioning war in the broader context of peace and conflict around the world. The more directly political the conversation is, the more explosively stakeholders may respond. Conversely, the more we make this about humans, about connecting with real people to hear about their real experiences, the less contentious it becomes. Interestingly, at RJI we discovered that when students explored poetry and photography by young Palestinians, they established deeper, more emotional understandings of war. The arts humanized conflict in a way political discourse never could, fostering deep empathy and understanding in learners, and it became a central part of our work.

I recommend that educators have students read poetry by young Palestinians, as well as poetry from other wars, to better understand the experience of conflict. This type of poetry is what US poet Carolyn Forché calls Poetry of Witness (see her international collection of largely translated work, “Against Forgetting,” and her collection from the English-speaking world, “Poetry of Witness,” both of which are excellent for classroom use). Have students explore experience through these raw, honest depictions of war and conflict, and write their own poetry about or in response to what they read. When I used this strategy in my own classroom, students produced some of the most powerful poems I’ve ever read; see the Poetry of Witness resources I developed in 2009 if you’re looking for poems and prompts for your own students.

Requiem, by Anna Akhmatova (1889-1966)‍

No foreign sky protected me,

no stranger’s wing shielded my face.

I stand as witness to the common lot,

survivor of that time, that place.

You can do similarly humanizing work by using photography and developing students’ visual literacy skills. Most media sources have a “Week in Photos” collection, updated each week, and you can deepen what students notice by having them do a “See,Think, Wonder” routine or asking them to look at images through the lens of five components of visual literacy: background, props/objects, dress, gesture and expression. With older students, I generally recommend that they choose the photographs to be explored, as doing so will protect teachers from being accused of pushing a personal agenda. With younger students, make careful choices for them, ensure you honor all the perspectives present in your classroom through your choices, and be thoughtful about the order in which you share the images. As with poetry, invite students to write poems about or in response to the photos they explore, or have them create visual art in response.

One of my recent favorites, which I’ve been using in workshops throughout 2024, is a photo of Antony Blinken that not only elevates conversations about the US’s role in trying to broker peace, but also allows your class to discuss how complicit the US government has been in the conflict, and why.

For more on humanizing the experiences of others, see an article I wrote on fostering empathy, which draws from Brené Brown’s work and offers concrete steps we can use to help students empathize with other’s perspectives, even when they conflict with their own beliefs or upbringing.

Create Space for Individual Reflection

It’s hard to understand perspectives when a conflict is deeply personal. It’s not easy for teachers, either; it triggers deep pains and allegiances on all sides. Coming into my own understanding of the conflict at 17 remains the deepest, oldest grief I carry in my heart. My pro-Palestinian rights work has cost me friends, colleagues, and even family. We shouldn’t try to ensure students reach a specific opinion, or make them decide and declare their personal perspectives in our presence. But we definitely need to build space into our curriculum for students to journal, to wonder, to question and to struggle. Some of them will stick doggedly to the ideas they were raised with, and that’s ok. Some of them may be a little broken by seeing what humans are capable of doing to each other, and we need to be ready to support them. And we need to be prepared for them to want some of their reactions to stay private.

I always had my students keep a journal for their personal reflections. My students knew they had the right to fold over a page (or pages) if they got into something more personal than they wanted to share. I reminded them of this right every time the journal topic seemed likely to evoke an emotional or challenging reaction. The kids who didn’t trust me yet would staple their pages together, which made me laugh, but I never broke confidence with my students. And, not surprisingly, more and more pages were left unfolded as time progressed, a sign that most students really did want to talk about their reflections.

The same will be true with journaling about the war in Israel/Palestine, and more recent attacks on Lebanon. Hold space for every sort of response, and let students keep it to themselves if they prefer. But also keep your eyes open for those who want—and maybe even need—to have a conversation with you. How you respond to their pain, if they let you in, will help define what they do with it, perhaps for the rest of their lives.

Following, please find several reflective questions for educators, which I hope might be appropriate for a faculty meeting, grade level meeting, or a little private journaling of your own.

Reflective Questions for Educators:

Personal Questions:

• What are a few things you believe about the current conflict?
• Which voices were central to the narrative you were raised to believe? Which voices were missing?
• When, if ever, have you questioned the perspectives you were raised to believe? How did people respond to your questions if/when you did?

Professional Questions, from the Principles for Conversational Leadership and Shared Work:

• How will I demonstrate respect for others, including their differences and similarities?
• How can I support the safest container possible for brave and authentic truthtelling, for others and myself?
• When should I step forward or step back to be my best self or create space for others to do the same?
• What values do I hold that will enable me to contribute meaningfully to the purpose at hand?
• How will I show leadership when conflict arises within me or in the group?
• What will help me remain in conversation and work toward shared goals?

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Prepare in advance: a note on parents.‍

The potential reaction of parents is a core challenge that keeps many educators from addressing this topic. In my experience, it is always better to involve parents than to leave them in the dark, however hard that might feel initially.

Start by controlling the message that goes home by sending an email to all parents before you begin to address the conflict. Let caregivers know that your intention is to foster students’ skills to maintain a safe but critical investigation and discussion about a very complicated topic, not to convince them of a right or wrong side. Tell them that their children may come home curious about perspectives other than those they were raised with. Reassure them that this is what building global competencies, citizenship and leadership looks like, and remind them that understanding the world is part of your school’s mission and vision. I recommend offering them open-ended questions they might ask when the topic comes up at home.

If any parents push back, at any point in the process, encourage them to come share their perspectives with your class. I know this can feel like an invitation to increase tensions, but most adults with strong opinions just want to be heard and feel confident that they and their children are safe in your community. When you invite them to class, remind parents that part of critical discourse is learning to ask hard questions in an open-minded way. And have your students go over the classroom agreements with parents at the beginning of these classes, before caregivers share their views and experiences.

Avoiding an uproar: approaches to facilitating thoughtful action.

It is nearly impossible to explore such deeply emotional, personal perspectives and realities without students asking what they can do to help. That natural urge to support people in need, on whatever side of a given conflict, is deeply human, and the idea of taking appropriate action is at the heart of all global competency frameworks. But we’ve also seen student action result in educator firings and student expulsions—and protests have ripped apart many communities, particularly at the university level. Taking action has to be done thoughtfully.

Rather than encouraging students to mount a protest, I recommend that educators consider ending a unit on conflict by having learners do some kind of sharing event for their community. In that event, students can share poems and artwork created in response to their learning, or can talk about the perspectives they’ve struggled with, all with an eye to humanizing the conflict for the rest of their community. Students might also share a historical retrospective or timeline of events, to help educate their communities.

Learners should choose the work they want to share, but teachers should stay involved and be aware of their choices so that if any are too inflammatory, you can do a little negotiating in advance. I don't mean educators should censor students, but that talking with a student who is trying to spark controversy can help them make more thoughtful choices about what to share. Make sure that invitations to the event are clear about the variety of perspectives that will be shared, and ensure that administrators are aware of what’s happening and are invited to attend. I recommend that educators start the event by having students establish the agreements they've learned are necessary to ensure a meaningful experience for everyone.

A few last thoughts.

Those of us who educate for peace are as devastated by the headlines as anyone. But I return to the words of Falastine Dwikat, a Palestinian poet who told me many years ago that peace is built “from word to word, from heart to heart, from line to line.” Global competency and citizenship is about building bridges that allow us to understand each other’s experiences; it’s about exposing students to the very real complexities of war, and it’s about empowering students to grapple with the grey areas they encounter. Only when educators address the complexity instead of shying away can we help students build skills for an increasingly complex and ambiguous future.

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NOTE: I am available for all forms of professional learning and student engagements on this topic. For more on humanizing the world and building global competencies, see my first book, The Global Education Guidebook: Humanizing K-12 Classrooms Worldwide through Equitable Partnerships, which offers a wide range of strategies and tools for building global partnerships for the classroom.

The header photograph on this blog comes from Khan Younis, Gaza, and was found in The Guardian during the week of September 13, 2024. Original caption: Children walk past destroyed buildings as they head to class. According to the Palestinian education ministry, more than 650,000 students in Gaza are being deprived of their right to education for the second academic year in a row.