In some ways, it feels like we’ve been here forever. This is home. It’s always been home, of course, but Israel has become our entire frame of reference to the point it’s hard to remember a time we didn’t live here.
I hadn’t been back to the U.S. since we made aliyah (we recently went for my nephew’s bar mitzvah; more about this trip later on) and I had no desire to go back. Home is here. War, sirens, national heartbreak, the euphoria when hostages come home and the national pride when our army is victorious. The ups, the downs. Hiking our country beside tourists and knowing I’m no longer a visitor: this is mine. I’m a part of it all by virtue of having made the choice to pick up my life and join the Jewish people at home and it feels so good – but also so natural.
When we arrived, Yaelle was going into 9th grade, Elisheva into 7th, Adiel into 4th, and Dani into 1st. We came to Israel without jobs and a clear path of what we would do, it was the beginning of Corona.
I am endlessly grateful to Hashem for the miracles he performed for us in getting our footing in this amazing country. Yaelle is now finishing off her year at Sherut Leumi at Shaarei Zedek while also taking an art course at Betzalel and is excited to be learning at Midrasha next year. Shev is finishing her last year of high school. My little curly Adiel towers over me and will be going to dorm school next year. Dani is almost as tall as me and will be going into 6th grade. We will have only two kids fully at home this year (!) which is crazy but I’m excited to be starting a learning program at nights since I will have more time.
I’m grateful to Hashem for providing us with work that we find challenging and fulfilling and also proud that we were able to recreate ourselves. Moshe has used his multitude of talents and skills to grow IDSF across the world and has tens of thousands watch his daily briefing every day. We’ve been stopped several times as people ask him, wait, you’re Moshe from the IDSF briefing! It’s not easy to arrive in Israel at almost 39 with your work experience being a rabbi and then transitioning into something new. He has taken all that made him successful as a rabbi and applied it in a new way to impact the world and help our country.
While I am technically working in the same field, it’s also not the same field at all. I am so grateful for the opportunity I never dreamed I would have – to grow a school here in Israel and to build my vision of something that was missing in Israel, a hashkafa that is unique in its balance, with warmth, accountability and support for our students. But education in Israel is different and comes with its own set of rules, systems and terms. I’ve learned a whole new language and only part of that newness has to do with it being in Hebrew; though the Hebrew part is a challenge, as well. A high percentage of my WhatsApp conversations these days are in Hebrew, the business office of our school is all Israeli, most of my staff are Hebrew speakers – including almost all of my admin staff – and certainly all of my contacts at Misrad haChinuch. When I’m the only non-Israeli in the room, my accent and mistakes are all the more noticeable. I’m not embarrassed about being an immigrant; this country was built on immigrants, and Golda Meir and Ron Dermer had/have American accents and contributed/contribute to this country in huge ways. When Israelis – from someone at a store to one of my bosses – try to speak to me in English, I always respond, “Ani lo meivina Anglit – I don’t understand English,” and I’ve always been proud of myself for just pushing myself forward. I really believe that the more you speak, the more fluent you become. But lately, I’m more aware of being the different one, and when I’m exhausted, the Hebrew flows less easily and that’s hard.
But on the flip side, while I had always assumed that I had professional learning gaps because I’m an American olah who learned the Israeli education system on the job and skipped ranks to become a principal, I am learning that many, many principals don’t know everything and aren’t even embarrassed about it. Misrad HaChinuch is constantly changing rules and curricula. What’s more, it’s become clear that administrators just know their specific area and hire others to fill the gaps of what they don’t know. I’ve spent the past four years trying to learn everything I can possibly need to know, and while I’ve learned a lot, it’s a huge relief to know that it’s not that I’m the dumb American. Many Israelis are totally confident about not knowing.
Sometimes life can feel stagnant in your 40s and the life of an olah is anything but. There is constant growing, encountering new experiences, stretching and going out of your comfort zone. It’s not easy but so good for character.
Happy aliyah-versary to us!
All of which brings me to our recent trip back to the U.S. – our first since making aliyah. The things you notice when you haven’t been back to the U.S. for five years:
- Squirrels are really cool. Definitely so much cooler than cats. My kids were enthralled by them and Dani also thinks yellow school busses are so cute.
- The soda bottles are so fat.
- The stairs are so narrow.
- While it’s true that only in Israel people are willing to take a bullet for a total stranger, strangers are generally much nicer to each other in America.
- Pretzel M&Ms are really good. Strawberry shortcake ice cream bars are, too. Why exactly don’t we have those in Israel?
- Plasticware is on a different level.
- In the five years since our aliyah, the world spent over a year in a pandemic, Trump lost the presidency, Israel was viciously attacked, antisemitism went through the roof, Trump became president again… and America largely looks the same. Not even any new candy bars. In contrast, the Kotel area looks different every single month due to new construction projects and additions. I feel like there’s something symbolic about this.
- Shul is much, much longer and has more pomp and circumstance. I love the simplicity of the Israeli davening.
- It is really, really nice to see family. I didn’t realize just how much I would enjoy it. Big mazal tov to Asher and Shoshie Dworetsky on Izzy’s bar mitzvah!
- All of the cars look new here. Maybe because people lease in America, whereas this isn’t common in Israel.
- As much as I’d been sure that so many people are making aliyah, there is plenty of American Jewry left to fill up Central Avenue.
- It’s very moving to see pictures of hostages in store windows.
- Instead of rockets in the sky, they have rain (at least, in Chicago). Which feels so weird; it’s not meant to rain in the summer! (It’s also not meant to rain rockets.)
After five years of being away (20 years out of New York), this trip has opened my eyes to see the good and convenient life people have in the States (and we saw the same in Australia over Shavuot). A part of me really understands why it’s so hard for people to leave.
But five years of living in Israel has shown me that nothing holds a candle to the power and meaning of being part of Am Yisrael b’Eretz Yisrael. It’s nice to visit, be here for family semachot and taste yummy ice cream. But there is nothing that comes close to living in our beautiful Jewish country.
So here’s a brief plug: Aliyah is something that every Jew should at least consider; not only because it’s where Hashem wants us to be but because it can bring such fulfillment to be home with our own people in our own beautiful land.
