Two Sides Of The Same Screen

By Temima Feldman

War reorganizes your world in an instant. In the past few days, I have found myself living inside a screen. Refreshing, scrolling, rereading the same threads over and over again. Like so many other parents, I am trying to get my children home in the midst of canceled flights, shifting plans, and a constant stream of unknowns. In the past week, that question has played out not in government offices or official channels, but on WhatsApp.

Somewhere along the way, I stumbled into a network of WhatsApp chats, groups of parents, strangers just hours before, now bound together by a single goal: get our children home safely.

What I didn’t expect was how quickly these chats would become both a lifeline and a source of anxiety, two sides of the same screen. That is the paradox.

On one hand, the power is extraordinary. Information moves faster than any official channel. In the past week, that question has played out not in government offices or official channels, but on WhatsApp. A gate change, a rumor of a flight reopening, a last-minute seat, all shared in seconds. But more than information, it’s the humanity that has been most striking. Parents celebrating when someone else’s child makes it onto a flight. Messages filled with relief, gratitude, and genuine joy for people they have never met. Offers of help from across time zones, “My cousin is near the airport,” “We have an extra room,” “Call me if you need anything.” Travel agents who usually charge for their fees, offering European information, connections to kosher food, and just about anything someone might need. But the deeper power is not informational, it is the human connection.

There is something profoundly beautiful about watching strangers become a community in real time. There is no competition here. Only shared vulnerability.

And yet, intertwined with that beauty is a quiet, persistent anxiety.

Every message carries weight. Every update has the potential to shift hope or unravel it. The same speed that brings comfort also accelerates uncertainty. Conflicting reports, half-confirmed information, and the constant influx of new messages create a sense of urgency that is hard to step away from. You don’t want to miss the message, the one that might change everything.

So you stay. You watch. You refresh.

This is the paradox of connection in moments of crisis. Technology has the power to bring us together in the most meaningful ways, to remind us of the goodness and generosity that exists in the world. At the same time, it amplifies our fears, our urgency, and our sense of lack of control.

Both are true at once.

And perhaps that is what I will remember most, not just the stress, or even the logistics, but the image of parents, scattered across the globe, pausing in their own worry to celebrate someone else’s relief.

In a moment defined by uncertainty, that kind of shared humanity feels like something steady to hold onto. n

Temima Feldman has over 25 years of experience in school leadership and administration and school-based consulting. She currently serves as associate principal at HAFTR Lower School. Her previous roles included general studies principal at the Torah Academy for Girls in Far Rockaway. Additionally, she is the associate director of The Digital Citizenship Project and a frequent lecturer at the Consortium of Jewish Day Schools (CoJDS).

Mrs. Feldman earned a B.A. from Touro, a master’s in educational leadership from NOVA Southeastern University, is certified in Myers Briggs (CAPT), and is a certified life coach, as well as a graduate of the Harvard School of Education Leadership Program. For more information or school consultancy opportunities, please reach out to [email protected].