This Father’s Day, On Track for a More Resilient Future in Israel

On October 7, 2023, Omer Rafaeli emerged from his home in Kibbutz Gvulot a changed man. Traumatized by the Hamas attacks, he evacuated to Eilat with his wife and three daughters. There, he found a path out of his grief and pain — and inspired others to follow.

This Father’s Day, Rafaeli reflects on what it means to be a good parent and how JDC’s “Back on Track” program — a partnership with NATAL (Israel Trauma and Resiliency Center), the Ministry of Labor, the Ministry of Welfare and Social Affairs, the Ministry of Health, and the Tekuma Administration—enabled him to show up for himself, his family, and all Israelis.  

None of us will forget that “black Shabbat,” but at the time, my three little daughters didn’t know what was happening. I brought the TV to the safe room, prepared snacks, and told them we were having a pajama party. We even made balloon animals. 

I sat with them, my wife and I clutching knives. 

My phone buzzed nonstop. Messages from students poured in — “My house is on fire,” “Omer, help me.” And after that, silence. Nothing. I wanted to scream but couldn’t. 

Though my wife and I were panicking, we projected calm and confidence. Later on, we would count that as our biggest success as parents. 

We knew the situation would deteriorate. Still, we held strong. We told our daughters that everything would return to normal soon.

Before October 7, 2023, I taught psychology and civics at the only high school in the Gaza envelope. Before that, I worked at Intel in a tiny cubicle. The pay was good, but the work felt hollow. I wanted to touch other people’s lives. Now I realize that I was in search of meaning. 

Teaching made me a better Omer. Being a teacher is kind of like being a father. In both contexts, the most important thing is to put your ego aside. You have to understand that if your child or student is being aggressive or unpleasant, it’s coming from a place of hurt. 

When my daughter snaps at me or a student would say something mean, I understand that both are in distress. It’s my role to extend a helping hand. You don’t enter the classroom on day one or become a father and know how to do this. It takes time. You learn along the way. 

I see myself as a bereaved teacher. I lost five students I cared about very much. When a student is murdered or kidnapped, you’re not given a roadmap for how to mourn them. They aren’t your child; it’s just a workplace. You’re supposed to return to class and prepare your students for matriculation exams.

This is hard to do, perhaps impossible. 

After the attacks, we evacuated to Eilat. We told our children that our kibbutz was being renovated, and that we’d return home when everything was finished. My school resumed its regular activities for the evacuated students, but I felt I couldn’t stay. I couldn’t face the empty chairs my students had once occupied. I lost my voice. I became a different person. 

If you ask my eldest daughter about our evacuation to Eilat, she’ll describe it as a positive experience. From her perspective, she got to hang out with mom and dad on a six-month vacation. But long days in a hotel, without structure, stretched our nerves and magnified our pain. 

Then, one day, I had an idea.

Physical fitness has always been my safe place. Exercise helps me cope with anxiety and PTSD. I began training some young people in the hotel lobby with resistance bands and weights. When I started training, my pulse returned, too. I felt alive. 

I returned to Kibbutz Gvulot and continued my training sessions. My class expanded, and Israelis from all walks of life joined. Magic happened. I saw a 70-year-old grandmother, a 16-year-old girl, and a stressed father in mid-life all training together. 

This class had so much momentum, but I wasn’t sure where to take it. 

That’s when Back on Track entered the picture. A program supported by JDC and its TEVET division focused on employment, Back on Track allowed me to turn my passion into my life’s work. This initiative partnered me with a coach, Gili, who met with me regularly. 

“What do you really want to do with your life?” she asked. Gili was the first person who ever posed this question to me. At first, I didn’t have an answer. But bit by bit, she helped me figure out what I love doing, what I’m good at, and what’s important to me.

Then, something new was born — Yotam Studio. 

Named after Yotam Haim z”l, a resident of Kibbutz Gvulot who was murdered on October 7, Yotam Studio promotes well-being through physical fitness. It’s a place where movement meets healing and where resilience is built through sweat, hard work, and human connection. 

I didn’t know Yotam personally, but the name is meaningful nonetheless. As soon as I heard that he used physical fitness to relieve his anxiety, I felt obligated to dedicate my center to him.

Today, as I watch so many Israelis find that same sense of relief within my studio walls, this name feels so right. It’s both a memorial to him and fuel for a more positive future. 

I’m not exaggerating when I say that Gili and JDC saved my life. They helped me forge a path that feels authentic and healing, and it’s one I continue to walk today.  

With the support of JDC’s emergency training and placement program, I’m now studying movement therapy. I also receive professional guidance and trauma support.  

Finding my passion, helping my fellow Israelis, and overcoming difficult emotions — all of this has helped me improve as a father, too. But being a good father in Israel is different from most other places. You need to find a sense of inner strength and split yourself in two. On the one hand, you have to feel all of your pain and panic; on the other hand, you have to be patient, listen to your children, and be fully present. It’s difficult work, but I’m learning. 

The future I want for my daughters is the future I wanted for my students — a country for all Israelis, a place deserving of those we lost and must remember. 

I myself will always remember the five students I lost. I loved them like a teacher, which I know firsthand is similar to a father’s love. 

They left behind their names: Tahel Bira z”l, 15; Amit Gabai z”l, 17; Mor Meir z”l, 17; Noya Sharabi z”l, 16; and Lior Trashchansky z”l, 17. 

May their memories be for a blessing. And may the good work we do today build the strong Israel we need tomorrow. 

Omer Rafaeli, 36, is a fitness teacher in Kibbutz Gvulot, Israel.

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