Ariela Zmoira: "As much as the children need assistance, I found I need them to help ground me and remind me of what is important."
"Tzeva Adom, Tzeva Adom” blares over the loud speakers across the whole city. Men, women, and children have 15 seconds to run to the nearest bomb shelter before a bomb hits. The ones that cannot make it to the shelters lie down on the ground, hands over their head, praying the missiles do not hit them. Fifteen seconds after the first “Tzeva Adom (Code Red)” warning, the missile goes off and smoke fills the city.
This was reality in Sderot, a small city in southern Israel, situated within half a mile of the Gaza Strip. Sderot, known as the “Bomb Shelter Capital of the World,” became a city in Israel in 1996. During this time, a large immigration wave from the former Soviet Union populated the city.
I could have grown up in Sderot. My parents were both immigrants from the former Soviet Union, too. But for the twists and turns of fate, their families settled in the United States, where I was born. We were spared a life of continuous threats and attacks. Those in Sderot are not so lucky. Throughout the last 20 years, Sderot has continued to be a missile target for terrorist attacks. Many children living in these conditions develop serious emotional disorders, and are essentially deprived of their childhoods. Schools close for long periods of time, contributing to lowered education standards.
Since 2013, I have been involved with The Russian Jewish Community Foundation (RJCF) in Boston, which started a project that would take the children out of Sderot for 10 days, providing them with free summer camp where they could just be kids and enjoy a sense of normalcy. Every summer, I leave my Boston home for Sderot. I have traveled to Israel as a counselor (2013, 2015), program director (2016), and chaperone (2017), determined to help create a much-needed escape for children like Alisa, a girl I met through RJCF, who became deaf in one ear at the age of 10 when a missile exploded in her family’s kitchen. Now, at 18, her dreams of becoming a physician in the Israeli Army cannot be fulfilled due to her disability. My mission to assist children who live through unfortunate conditions such as these has led me on a path of service as well as into the pharmacy profession.
Finding a balance
I set out right after high school to lead activities for kids who had experienced significant trauma and suffered from posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD). With little training in my first year, I thought our language differences would be the greatest barrier, as the children spoke mostly Hebrew and I spoke primarily English. I discovered that communication was not our biggest obstacle—it was finding a balance between giving the children a relatively carefree summer experience and serving as a support system when they needed it.
Initially, I tried different tactics, such as planning activities to distract the campers from their everyday reality, but I quickly learned that by allowing them to teach me, I made the most progress. Only through honest conversations and direct contact could we find common ground and real connections.
I continue to find common ground now, 4 years later, as I have returned as a camp director and chaperone. As the camp’s program director, I trained new counselors, mostly American student volunteers. I was in charge of fundraising, as every counselor, myself included, was responsible for raising $2,500 to participate in the program. The counselors and I came up with effective English, mathematics, and art classes to try to close the gaps in the children’s education. We developed activities like art night and country-themed skit nights, where the children explored their sense of creativity. In addition to orienting the new counselors to the daily challenges, I shared the important lessons of listening, empathizing, and understanding.
Learning about compassion
Sderot has drawn me to study pharmacy as I learned to understand how disorders like PTSD affect childhood to adult development. It has taught me the importance of compassion, a skill that is just as important for pharmacists to show patients. Pharmacists are exposed to many patients with mental illness, so it is important to understand and listen, and strive to better their health.
While volunteering may not stop the misery, forming genuine relationships may help ease the pain. As much as the children of Sderot need assistance, I found I need them to help ground me and remind me of what is important. I urge you, the community of future pharmacists, to volunteer and step out of your comfort zones to ease others’ suffering. This will help create a better world for all.