The escalation?

Tali Erez (51) is married to Shahar, is the mother of three, and lives in Kiryat Ono. She is the CEO of ELEM, a nonprofit that supports youth at risk. Erez took on the role after many years in senior management positions in the business sector.

At the height of summer vacation, and following the murder of Yemanu Binyamin Zelka in Petah Tikva on the eve of Israel's Independence Day, she warns of a "breach of the dam" — a surge in violence and a loss of trust among tens of thousands of high school students who have spent much of the war period without consistent structure. Under her leadership, ELEM now provides informal support and intervention both on the streets and through social media, operating nationwide in response to a growing wave of youth distress and violence.

The distress?

"I'm still shaken by the murder of Yemanu Binyamin Zelka, the pizzeria employee who was stabbed to death in Petah Tikva. This is a horrific reality that's worse than anyone could have imagined. The murder shocked many people, and right now I have a list of 20 municipalities waiting for funding and an ELEM action plan to operate in their cities. They understand that this risk exists everywhere, and that it's essential to act as a kind of temperature regulator inside this boiling pot — to prevent harm before it happens."

The escalation?

"What we're seeing lately among young people is that they're releasing their stress and frustrations on the streets instead of at home — perhaps because parents themselves are exhausted. Parents have to stay involved in their children's lives. They need to ask where they were, who they were with, and what they did. They need to build conversations with their teenagers to understand what's happening in their lives and give them a safe place to express their emotions, so that emotional release doesn't happen on the street and tempers don't flare so quickly.

Right now, everything we managed to hold together while we were focused on survival has simply been let loose — including boundaries. There's no one bridging the gap and restoring young people's trust in state institutions and public systems. And when there's no trust and tempers are short, it's not just that violence increases — it becomes more extreme.

We're seeing planned violence. Group violence. We're seeing growing use of so-called self-defense tools that become weapons in practice, such as pepper spray, brass knuckles, and knives. Because teenagers are still developing judgment and impulse control, when a teenager leaves home carrying a knife, the question isn't whether they'll use it — it's when."

Recording violence?

"We're seeing that young people now record the acts of violence they commit, which makes it seem even cooler in their eyes. Recording these incidents helps them determine whether they belong to the group, what role they play within it, who stood by them and who didn't, which gang dominates another. We saw this when one gang filmed themselves talking about traveling to Petah Tikva to take revenge on Yemanu's killers.

They document all of this and upload it to TikTok. Violence itself becomes a form of content, and recording it becomes a status symbol."

TikTok?

"Every night before bed, I spend an hour on TikTok to see what young people have posted that day. It's unbelievable how openly they reveal their struggles through this platform — whether it's eating disorders, suicidal thoughts and not wanting to live, cases of bullying, and of course, fights and violence.

You don't have to be a professional to understand the depth of the distress. You just have to scroll.

I think it's partly the platform itself, but it's also the very real crisis they're experiencing. They're flooded with adrenaline and lack emotional regulation, and the platform fulfills the need to say, 'Everyone look at me right now.' So they pull out their phone and record — even if they're documenting a murder, God forbid.

So many videos of violence are uploaded that could have been stopped immediately, and I wonder whether law enforcement authorities even saw them. Do they have the resources? Is it a priority for them? I don't know."

What should be done?

"We need to look at every area of teenagers' lives, identify the failures and the needs, and create a comprehensive, 360-degree plan involving all the relevant government ministries together with social organizations. Parents also have to be part of the solution — they're incredibly important, and 80% of young people have functioning parents.

Both those who harm others and those who are harmed are all our children. Whether it's Kiryat Ono, Ofakim, Sderot, or Ra'anana, the question is the same: who sees you when you're struggling? That's the crucial factor.

We're trying to raise awareness and amplify young people's voices. This year, we appeared before more than 60 Knesset committees to help shape policy relating to youth. We're active in dozens of cities across Israel, meeting young people from every part of society and building informal, trusting relationships with them — reaching youth that others often can't."

Hope?

"We have an incredible generation of young people with tremendous strength. There's no other country in the world where young people have endured such prolonged uncertainty and managed to keep going. They're looking for meaning and purpose. They want to contribute, they want to enlist in the IDF, and they carry our hope that life here can be better."