Violence among teenagers has long since ceased to be a phenomenon that can be pushed to the margins. It is here— in the streets, parks, and spaces where all of our children move around every day. The discussion held in the Knesset Committee for the Rights of the Child illustrated just how urgent this reality has become, and how the gap between understanding the problem and the pace of the response continues to widen.

What emerged from the discussion in the Knesset was not just a description of data, but a real sense of emergency: an increase in the number of criminal cases, more incidents of physical violence, and, above all, a feeling of loss of control. Teenagers walking around with knives, a sense of immunity, a lack of deterrence, and a public discourse that swings between shock and helplessness all contributed to this picture. Alongside this, the voices of the teenagers themselves stood out in particular — a precise, responsible discourse that holds up a clear mirror to the adults around the table and demands immediate intervention.

This is not just a feeling. The data also point to the depth of the phenomenon. Recent data from the research program on the well-being and health of adolescents at Bar-Ilan University show that about 20% of teenagers report involvement in physical violence, and about a third report exposure to violence or bullying in their everyday environments.

It’s important to pause before reducing the issue to a question of punishment and deterrence alone. Violence doesn’t begin at the moment a knife is drawn. It begins earlier — with a sense of loneliness, frustration, a search for belonging, and sometimes the absence of an adult who sees, listens, and responds in time.

Today’s teenagers are growing up in a particularly complex reality. They are exposed to violent discourse, a tense security situation, and a digital environment that amplifies and rewards violence. Within this reality, for some of them, violence becomes a language — a way to communicate, to be seen, to belong.

And within all this, the vacuum left by adults is growing. There is less presence in public spaces, less involvement in the places where teenagers actually are, and sometimes there is also difficulty on the part of parents and systems to keep up with the pace of the youth’s world. When there is no meaningful adult, teenagers create their own rules, and sometimes those are rules of power and violence.

What emerged in the committee regarding the system was clear: there is knowledge, there are professionals, and there are programs, but there is not enough connection between them. The education, welfare, health, and enforcement systems are operating, but they don’t always know how to cooperate. The result is a slow, fragmented, and delayed response that fails to prevent the next incident.

This points to a clear need: a shift from reactive responses to continuous and coordinated work. Instead of isolated responses to crises, there must be a mechanism that connects all relevant factors, operates consistently, and identifies risk points in real time. Reality does not move at the pace of committee discussions.

And within all this, it’s also important to say: there are already solutions operating on the ground that can be expanded. ELEM meets teenagers in the places where this vacuum is most felt — teams that go out into the streets, parks, and stations, at night and during the hours when there is no framework and no adult present. They don’t wait for a boy or girl to seek help — they go to them, create contact, build trust, and identify distress before it erupts. This is not just intervention: it is real-time prevention. It’s not a theoretical model, but experience built from the field, night after night. That experience shows that when there is an adult who shows up, who sees, who listens, incidents of violence and escalation can be prevented.

Alongside this, ELEM also operates accessible and flexible emotional support services, adapted to how teenagers live today, both physically and digitally; non-judgmental spaces, personal guidance, and support that reaches them where they are. Why is this important? Because a large portion of youth will not come to the system if it does not meet them on their terms. Early identification is also critical. Too many cases develop over time, with clear warning signs. Connecting the education, welfare, and health systems can make it possible to see the full picture and intervene before escalation.

And alongside all of this, it’s impossible to ignore the need for belonging. Teenagers aren’t only looking to avoid violence — they’re looking to be part of something. Therefore, expanding informal frameworks, groups, activities, and positive spaces is not an extra, but a basic condition.

Parents also have a role here, but it is more complex than ever. It begins with presence and setting boundaries, continues with listening, and sometimes simply staying in the conversation even when it’s uncomfortable.

Ultimately, the violence we are seeing is a sign of distress that is not being addressed in time, and of a system that still isn’t managing to function as a whole. The message is clear: it’s impossible to continue at the current pace. The understanding exists, but without fast, coordinated, and continuous action, the gap will only deepen. Alongside discussions about future cooperation, there is already a need now for a concrete move that connects all the factors and operates daily — not only around exceptional events.

Because in the end, this is not just a question of policy — it’s a question of our shared responsibility as a society, and our ability to be there in time, just before it’s too late.