On TikTok, millions of teens scroll past endless outfit videos, sports highlights, and celebrity gossip. But buried between the entertainment are glimpses of a very different reality: children in Gaza suffocating underneath countless tons of rubble, writing their names on their arms so their bodies can be identified if they don’t survive the next airstrike. It’s easy to avert their piercing gaze. It’s harder to admit that silence makes us complicit.

The numbers are overwhelming. The Associated Press reports that thousands of Palestinian civilians, many of them children, have been massacred since fighting escalated. Reuters says over a million innocent families have been forced away from their homes, often with nowhere safe to go. The United Nations Children’s Fund (UNICEF) warns that children in Gaza don’t have enough food, clean water, or medical care. These aren’t just numbers; they are lives erased, families shattered, futures stolen.

So why should teens in the U.S. care about something happening thousands of miles away? Because young people have never been bystanders to history. High school students marched in the Civil Rights Movement. College students helped pressure governments to end apartheid in South Africa. More recently, our generation has led climate strikes, school walkouts against gun violence, and protests against racial injustice. If teens before us could take a stand, why can’t we now?

One reason is how the story gets told. Turn on the news and you’ll hear about rambling political leaders and pointless ceasefire talks that diminish the Palestinian efforts against ethnic cleansing. Instead of choosing to bring light to the ruthless slaughter of the Palestinian people, media outlets choose to highlight the “clashes” between Israel and Hamas, utilizing their conflict to dilute the blight of Palestine. The National Public Radio (NPR) and British Broadcasting Company (BBC) often focus on politics while the catastrophic repercussions of genocide fades into the background. Compare this to the coverage of Ukraine, where stories of families, children, and even pets filled headlines worldwide. That kind of humanization makes people pay attention. Palestinians deserve the same level of empathy and attention, but too often their voices get minimized or silenced. That’s why it’s on us to dig deeper: to read credible reports, look at human rights investigations, and listen directly to Palestinian voices online.

Some adults say teens shouldn’t get involved in “foreign conflicts.” Too messy. Too far away. Too divisive. But that excuse underestimates us. We are the most connected generation in history. We can share information and organize across borders in seconds. Pretending Palestine has nothing to do with us isn’t neutrality, it’s choosing ignorance in the face of injustice. As notable human rights activist Desmond Tutu warned, “If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor.”

Speaking up doesn’t always mean leading a march (though it can). It might mean sharing verified information instead of misinformation. It might mean pushing your school club to host a discussion on human rights. It might mean emailing your representatives about humanitarian aid. It might even mean simply refusing to treat Palestinian suffering as “too political” to talk about. Small actions add up, especially when millions of teens use their voices together.

Years from now, people will ask what we did when we knew children were starving and bombs were falling. What will we say? That we were too busy scrolling? That we didn’t want to “get political”? The children of Gaza don’t get the privilege of deliberate ignorance. Neither should we.

Even after a ceasefire is declared, the work isn’t over. Rebuilding lives, schools, hospitals, and homes will take years, and the trauma carried by children will last a lifetime. Staying informed and engaged ensures that international attention doesn’t fade the moment headlines do. Supporting humanitarian organizations, amplifying Palestinian voices, and advocating for lasting solutions can help turn temporary relief into long-term change. Our responsibility doesn’t end when the bombs stop; it begins with the commitment to ensure that every child has the right to safety, dignity, and hope for the future.

This article was edited by Amaan Musani