In May 2007, I woke up one morning to a barrage of emails from friends in Israel about a town called Sderot. While drinking my morning coffee at home in Los Angeles, I read terrifying stories about an intense humanitarian crisis: Israeli civilians subjected to as many as 50 rocket attacks per day. Those with resources were fleeing to other places in Israel -- those without resources had no other options but to stick it out, their lives at risk, the sanity of their children in peril.
I decided to look and see if this story had hit any of the major news outlets in the US. I opened the LA Times, the New York Times, many news networks’ websites. I found nothing. Every morning that week I awoke to check on the situation in Sderot and if it reached the American news. Finally, at the end of the week, I found one article that made it into the New York Times: IDF KILLS FIVE IN GAZA. I read the entire article. I realized as I read -- almost no one reads an article to the end. The last sentence mentioned that rockets were being fired from the area into a town called Sderot, but the context of the situation remained unexplained.
At that moment, I decided that I needed to tell this story. As a documentary filmmaker who has been highlighting human rights stories, I could not continue to go about my normal daily life and let this incredibly important story remain untold. Several weeks later, I was on an El Al flight with two colleagues. We were on our way to Sderot.
We found an amazing lens through which to focus our story. Sderot, it turns out, is a city known for having bred some of Israel’s most famous rock bands. A little bit of research led us not only to those celebrities, but to a younger generation of Sderot musicians who are working on careers in music.
I have been documenting the lives of teenagers in a youth choir, rock bands that play in a bomb-shelter turned rock club, and a few up-and-coming artists who are releasing their first albums. There is some incredible talent in Sderot, nurtured by generations of people to whom music is king.
In December 2007, I moved to Sderot. I felt I could get into the story more if I lived here, than if I was flying in from LA for a week at a time. I lived through a crazy time from January through April, with the most qassams ever in a single period. One weekend felt like the London Blitz. I started blogging out of immense frustration, and found out that by merely plunking yourself down and deciding to use your voice, you can reach out and inform thousands of people. I started receiving emails from all over the world in response to my blog -- many of the people had no clue that this was going on.
The media coverage has definitely picked up since I started the project last year. An article by UK's Daily Mail has pegged Sderot as "the most bombed place on earth." But every time I am back in the US, I meet so many people who have never heard about what is happening there.
I fell in love with my new town. I was taken in by an incredibly warm community, and have been amazed by the diversity of this small town on the edge of the Negev. I have been embraced by solidarity, astounded by talent, and humbled by stories of hardship. Sderot is a special and unusual place.
I thought I might find anger and hate. What I discovered was people who are just trying to make the best out of a really terrible situation. I found incredible resilience, hope, and people who will do almost anything to support each other. The concept of using music to bring normalcy to children's lives -- its an amazing idea that really works. This is the Israeli spirit that I discovered in Sderot.
This is a story about what its like to live through a never-ending war. Not just to survive, but to keep living.
