“I’m terribly childish, really,” admits Netalie Gvirtz, editor of “Adam Tsair” (Hebrew for ‘A Young Person’) – monthly kids outlet. “Talking to children comes easy for me, I think I understand them better than I understand adults. They are so interesting, you can learn so much from them. If you’re not interested in them or you don’t feel connected to your inner child, I don’t think you should work with kids or create anything with them as a target audience”.
Gvirtz is a writer, journalist, screenwriter and illustrator, who has authored books for both adults and children. For the past two years she is the editor-in-chief of said outlet, published once a month as a colorful, immersive printed magazine. Every issue has its own theme and illustrator, inviting the young readers to join in a journey of exploration. The pages are full of drawings, stories, poems, an ongoing comic series, pen pal search section – and zero advertisements. Some examples: the Treasure issue invited kids to write their own answer to the question ‘What is your treasure’; The Joke issue offered joke-telling tips from notable comedians and actors in Israel and the Choice issue included a choose your own adventure type of story by Gvirtz, starring the readers themselves who become an integral part of the plot.
Adam Tsair has been around for 13 years, and Gvirtz joined about two and a half years ago as editor, replacing children’s author Rinat Primo who co-founded it alongside “Adam Olam” association for anthroposophical education. Gvirtz explains the uniqueness of this publication: “Each issue is like its own storybook, different and unique. We try to explore each theme from every angle, with content writing especially for kids. Its pureness is precious and rare these days.
“We believe in children, unequivocally. This belief also guides me in writing workshops – I keep telling each child how important their voice is, how interesting and unique their point of view can be. If something is fascinating and intriguing in their eyes, it will surely interest me too. Somehow, I feel that many children lose this trust, or they don’t receive it enough at home, in society, at school. This is something I will always try to strengthen in them. I want them to know that they have a voice, and a powerful one.
The magazine should be a launching pad for exploration. That’s the advantage of it being a physical object. Some pages will require folding, drawing and creating, others focused on interacting with the readers. We ask a question each month in relation to the next topic, and their answers are published, their take on the theme has a place there”.
For her, writing isn’t just a way to entertain, educate or help others, it’s a need of its own: “As long as I’m writing, I feel 100 times more sane. It’s the greatest happiness there is. There’s something really special about writing for a young audience specifically, they are so connected to a book they love. Kids will take it with them to the bathroom or sleep with the book at night. It’s like true love, nothing can beat that”.
What was the magazine’s reaction to the events of October 7th and the war? Did you try to make the situation accessible to children, or did you choose escapism?
“When it just happened we had lots of Zoom meetings, no one knew what to do and how to cope. For the first issue to come out after October 7 we reached out to our subscribers from all over the country, asking them about how they’re doing. We tried to give them strength and asked for tips on how to deal with it all, to help the children who are having a hard time. Four pages were dedicated to children sharing their feelings about what’s going on in their own words. We also published a beautiful story by Amir Harash about a child-detective at a hotel populated by evacuee families.
“We didn’t get really deep into these things though. The information gaps between children are huge and we’re not the ones who should tell them things they don’t necessarily know how to handle. We try to give them space – not to tell them, but to hear them”.
As a parent yourself, are you involved in what content your own kids are exposed to? I wasn’t able to watch any video from that day myself, and I constantly think about the kids and teengers and what they saw.
“I also stopped myself from watching it, it’s not something I feel I can deal with. I read things but I didn’t watch videos. I tried to warn my kids, but I can’t control what they chose to do. I don’t think my daughters have seen too much, it’s not something they’ll be interested in, but my 10 year old son was curious about it. The children talk among themselves, they know things, and I think there is a lot of pressure around it. It’s a little bit similar to conversations about sex – the experts say ‘just answer what they ask, don’t expand beyond that – they’ll ask about what they want to know and what they can deal with at the moment, so stick with that’.
“I do think parents should set boundaries if they see their child is attracted to this sort of content, it can be very traumatic. Sometimes people say we ‘owe it to people who died’, or we owe it ourselves to see exactly what happened, but I absolutely don’t agree. We need to protect ourselves too. There are better ways to show solidarity”.
Does your connection to children make you more optimistic?
“Yes, definitely. You can’t help but be optimistic around them. They are very funny and their world is full of laughter. They live in the here and now, it’s easier to deal with it from this point of view, especially when the future is so uncertain and every day our whole reality can be shaken. This moment is all we have, so let’s sit together and laugh and write and make silly jokes. There is a lot of strength in that.
“We all want to separate our lives outside and our lives at home with our families. Everyone makes their own boundaries between the two, it can go to extreme levels like in the movie ‘Life is beautiful’, but it’s something we all need, kids and adults alike”.
And what about hope? hope for the future of the country?
“For me, Hebrew is everything. That’s what I do. It’s terribly difficult for me, all of this. It’s not entirely in our hands, and I know that there may come a day when we’ll not have a country to share, only language. In the meantime, we’re here and we have to work hard to continue being here. Amazing people live here, great children, a beautiful language, the only thing missing is a sensible leadership. Yes, the location isn’t ideal, but we are here. My grandparents are Holocaust survivors, my family founded kibbutzim and helped shape the culture. I’m very connected to it and I hope and wish that these things will not be in vain”.
In such difficult and depressing times, Gvirtz has one solution to offer – creating as a way of coping: “I want everyone to write, to make something, to do something. Once you do it you realize the strengths it can give you and your environment. I can say it helps me to see another beautiful thing in the world. I know it’s hard, it can feel useless and like there’s no one on the other side to receive it. And that’s why I say – do it for me! I ask that people continue and do things that make the world more interesting and more vulnerable”.
