In the world of children’s media, few figures have ever held the power or trust that Ms. Rachel does. For millions of households, she is a daily presence, singing, signing, teaching, and bringing joy into the early developmental years of countless toddlers. She built an empire not on flash or controversy, but on empathy, gentleness, and clarity. And then, in 2024, she did something few public figures with her reach dared to do: she spoke out for Palestinian children.
Not only in the world of children’s media, but in the wider world of media and influence, Ms. Rachel stood out because she decided to use her platform for good, when so many others weren’t brave enough to. That choice turned her from beloved children's host into a target for some. But it also revealed her character.
This is the story of Ms. Rachel: the educator who refused to stay quiet.
A Career Built on Care
Rachel Accurso, known globally as Ms. Rachel, launched "Songs for Littles" in 2019 to support her son’s speech delay. What began as a modest YouTube project blossomed into one of the most influential children’s education platforms in the world, with over 15 million subscribers and more than 11 billion views. Her content emphasizes early speech development, sign language, emotional learning, and inclusive play, all presented with a gentleness and attentiveness that have earned her accolades from educators and parents alike.
Ms. Rachel became a staple in homes for the youngest among us. She wasn't a cartoon or a loud distraction, she was a real person, meeting children where they were and helping them grow. She smiled at them, not past them. She sang slowly, patiently. She signed words for non-verbal learners. She thanked her young viewers directly. In an overstimulated, algorithm-choked internet, she was an oasis of warmth and sincerity.
And then she did something extraordinary.
The Moral Moment
In 2024, as Israel's bombardment of Gaza escalated into global headlines, marked by mass civilian deaths, starvation, and the collapse of entire neighborhoods, Rachel posted a message that few public figures dared to write:
“All children deserve food, water, shelter, and safety. Palestinian children. Israeli children. Muslim, Jewish, Christian children. Not one is excluded.”
Showing something that can only be perceived as incredible humanity, Ms. Rachel spoke the words that so many wanted to say, and so many needed to hear.
And for that, she was met with a wave of vitriol. Accusations of antisemitism, claims of taking sides, and angry denunciations came from corners of the internet and cultural commentators. Olivia Munn criticized her publicly. Rachel responded:
“I'd rather you cover me advocating for kids in Gaza... do better!!!”
Zionist influencers claimed she had failed to mention Israeli victims, with some groups even asking the US Department of Justice to investigate her, and it takes little more than a google search to find a wave of backlash against Rachel. The accusations are always broad, undefined or simply stupid, from accusations of antisemitism, to the vague idea of getting money to Iran, the lack of genuine criticism of the content of her message tells a story.
She didn’t backtrack after the public attacks and rebukes, she leaned into the truth and continued her advocacy. Her morals standing up to the pressures of an increasingly horrible world.
Advocacy as Action
Her support wasn’t symbolic. Ms. Rachel raised over $50,000 for humanitarian aid benefiting children in Gaza, Ukraine, Sudan, and the DRC. When a video surfaced of , three years old, a double amputee, Rachel traveled to visit her. They sang songs together. She offered comfort, not to score points, but to remind the world: this child matters, all children matter.
In doing so, she did what no president, no head of a global NGO, no pop star dared. She held a maimed child’s hand and looked into the camera, effectively saying, “You will not erase this pain.”
The backlash only intensified, and Ms. Rachel quietly turned off comments on some videos, not to silence critics, but to protect her community from toxic intrusion. She continued creating content for children. She did not center herself in the story. She simply kept doing what she believed was right.
Why It Mattered
What makes Ms. Rachel’s action so morally powerful is its context. She is not a journalist. She is not a political activist. She is a children’s educator, her audience includes some of the most politically diverse households in America, and she knew what it meant to take a public stance.
By choosing to speak, she risked the goodwill of sponsors, the wrath of right-wing media, and the loss of followers in an industry built on comfort and conformity. But she did it anyway. Not for herself, but for children who cannot speak for themselves.
In a time when major networks, celebrities, and influencers chose calculated silence, Ms. Rachel, a preschool teacher, became one of the most visible moral voices of the moment.
Ms. Rachel has never called herself brave. She doesn’t present herself as radical. But her quiet defiance and clear empathy stand in stark contrast to the moral cowardice of those who command far more power.
She represents something too rare in public life: a person whose principles don’t vanish under pressure.
She chose kindness when cruelty was louder.
She chose compassion when complicity was easier.
She chose children when others chose silence.
In The Record, Ms. Rachel will not be remembered as the woman who sang the ABCs.
She will be remembered as the woman who remembered Gaza’s children when the world tried to forget.
And she sang to them, too.
Thank you, Ms. Rachel.