The Jerusalem Youth Chorus is built on connection and shared realities, yet each one of our singers holds thousands of stories that shape their individuality and show how, despite living close, their realities often feel completely different.
One of the core purposes of the choir is to offer a space to hold these multiple truths and to provide a safe environment for them to share their stories.
This section is dedicated to the voices that build JYC, the reason we sing.
This is a deeper dive into the singers’ personal experiences and lives. Here, we read the stories written by our JYC singers themselves.
The stories of the Jerusalem Youth Chorus
The Moment Before Innocence Disappears: A story written by Hadas, a 17-year-old Israeli JYC singer
I see my neighbors all the time now, in the bomb shelter.
We sit together in a place filled with fear, cut off from the rest of the world, waiting for permission to return to it. Every time the adults see each other, they get disappointed because it means another siren, another bomb attack.But the kids are always excited.
They go down to the bomb shelter, hoping for a siren; the excitement draws them in. They’re not afraid of the bombs, of the explosions. They see it as an experience. I asked the kids what they thought about the war, and they all said they were happy since they didn’t have school.I wish I could see it that way.
But I’m no longer like that. I’m like the adults. Every siren is a disappointment.But I can still appreciate the children’s point of view. I can cherish their youth and innocence, their ability to see the world with an open mind.
It inspires me.
And I want them to stay that way. I want them to live in a world that allows them to preserve that innocence, something that cannot be regained once you outgrow and lose it.Every generation, once they become adults, says, “I want to change the world for my kids. I don’t want them to grow up with the pain and loss I grew up with. I want them to grow up and live as children, the way all humans deserve.” I remember my parents saying the same thing to me.
And now, I say the same thing.I don’t have children yet. But it’s too late for me to have the childhood my parents wished for me, the one all parents wish for their children. I see the kids, and I know that one day they will say the same things. They will make the same wishes.
My childhood was ruined by wars and cruelty, and now I watch theirs being ruined by the same things. Everyone’s childhood was ruined by the same things.
How long will we keep living like this? Making these wishes, yet choosing the same path our parents chose, and their parents before them. How many years will pass before we turn our wishes into reality? How many wars will we have? How many people will be killed? How many childhoods will be lost?
When do we finally say enough?
Enough with the killing, with the bombs, with the wars, with the prejudice, and hatred? When will it be enough?
Will it ever be?