Special People

June 27

My first week has come and gone as a 22 year old, and it has felt pretty normal and similar to being a 21 year old. Aside from spending my birthday eating delicious Persian food at Arya’s house, driving up to camp, and mingling with more Israelis, I spent most of it trying to decide what it really meant to be a year older. Supposedly, having now graduated from college and all that jazz, another year of age is continuously supplying more wisdom. I certainly don’t feel any different, nor do I think I will any time soon.

It’s my belief that the only times one can feel a sense of true growth is when reflecting upon any experience. My freshman year in Israel was a huge growth period, and now I can surely see that. But if there is one thing that keeps reminding me of everyone’s constant growth, it is the time I am privileged to have at Camp Ramah in the Tikvah Program.

The Tikvah Program is one that enables campers and young adults with special needs to experience Jewish camping and working within that Jewish community. This is my fourth summer in this wonderful place and I have learned more about life from being here than any other time. The people involved in the program prove that not only is everything possible, but that everyone should be given equal chances, no matter what the circumstances.

So what if someone has problems with athletic abilities. They should race, too. So what if someone may not have social skills others at their age may have? They should be included in adult conversations, too. The point is that these people don’t take anything for granted, appreciate almost everything that comes their way, and just live life the best way they know how. Spend a day watching them do what they do and you will fall in love. One can see why they are called “special needs” because they are special people.

Saturday night I studied with my fellow staff members about what Pirkei Avot (the teaching of our fathers) says what a person should have accomplished by a certain age or specific characteristics one should have at those ages. It made me think about how I’ll look back upon my life and what I’ll gauge from it. I’m living life to the fullest (I hope) and enjoying everything I do. That’s how I know at this point that being here at camp is the right decision and will be for a long time to come.

In terms of Israel, I can only hope for the best. In most interactions I’ve had, Israelis have been almost always welcoming, friendly people. At camp, it’s almost a slanted view since it’s basically a group of people who want to be there and want to create these relationships with their American counterparts.

I hope I can bring this positive vibe everywhere I go. When I asked Max, an Ezra staff member with Autism today how he felt after he had made a slew of quesadillas in our café, he answered, “Confident.” I am optimistic that my confidence will grow as I learn new skills and that my mind stays positive and open. Then I will have succeeded in life. Unless I take Ralph Waldo Emmerson’s approach: “To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived, this is to have succeeded.” I will succeed.

A Step in the Right Direction

June 17

One of the most interesting things I’ve learned, especially in my young adult part of my life, is that life is in turbo speed all the time. It’s as if life took one of those quadruple espresso shots with a touch of speed or something else strange like that. Nothing was more apparent of this then the last three days of my life.

I knew that my mother had told me to clean out the whole room of mine at the house before I left, but I shrugged it off until the last minute (of course). Over the span of these days of cleaning, I came across different mementos from every time period throughout my life – from near-birth all the way through my final days of college. Talk about being nostalgic – some of the artifacts and clothes I found I hadn’t seen in years. I really was moving on from Tucson and this was the first sign to me.

Overall, I collected six huge garbage bags worth of clothes I was parting ways with to be given to Goodwill. Each item of clothing carried with it a story, as cliché as that sounds. I like to think my memory is top-notch, so I was able to remember a story revolving around each USY shirt, sports shirt, and even dress clothes. I was reliving my life through my clothes and belongings. I actually somewhat enjoyed cleaning for one of the first times in my life.

My last day, aside from packing for at least the next two years of my life, was reserved for saying goodbye to friends and family who I wouldn’t be seeing for quite some time away from Tucson. These were all meaningful and touching, but none more than a goodbye to my Bubbe and Zayde. I’m thankful they’ve always lived in the same city; I know I can always get a good meal, life advice, or family history lessons (among other things). Heck, Zayde came every week to my kindergarten class – I’ve never seen a grandfather do that with such genuine care. Needless to say, I was legitimately sad. They are visiting me in December and I can’t wait to see them and my whole family then. But, unfortunately, it’s a natural first thought to say to oneself, “Am I going to see these people again?”

We can’t take anything for granted, and my Bubbe and Zayde really exemplify this. They have worked so hard and given so much in their lives just for the goodness of others, I can only dream of doing the same.

As I left Tucson for the last time June 17 at 7:30 AM, it was literally as if my life was transitioning before me instantly. I was with my sister, Allison, and one of my life-long friends, Justin, both of whom would be in Israel the following year, and we were planning on attending a barbeque for Israelis when arriving from our drive to Los Angeles. Leaving Arizona for Israelis – clearly a small step, but after speaking more Hebrew during the night than many weeks prior combined, I felt like I was at least one with them (as much as I could).

Just being with a majority of Israelis made it easy to see that a) Israeli girls are beautiful, b) they’re all so friendly, and c) I need to work on my Hebrew – badly. I conversed for the whole evening but have much room for improvement, improvement that is necessary for avoiding being completely overwhelmed.

I took another step towards Israel today, even if t was physically the wrong direction. However, it’s the mental part that is the most vital to mater. Anyone can be in Israel. It’s another thing to become Israeli. I may never achieve this, but I’m not going to ever give up, I know that much. It’s going to be hard, but as I’ve mentioned earlier, an easy life would lack excitement and be dry.

In an hour I am turning 22. You know, every year is supposed to bring another year of wisdom, growth, and insight. I hope, for myself, that these three things and beyond will all take place. Only time can tell. It’s nice when I meet Israelis and they tell me congratulations for making Aliyah and joining the army; it makes me feel good, it really does. But I hope this year is something I can look back on and evaluate my growth in a positive light. The clock is now ticking.

Life's Point

June 9-10, 2008

Since my official decision to move to Israel turned even more real when I received confirmation of my one-way flight and got my Aliyah visa, I have been having dreams about Israel on a nightly basis. Sometimes they are short sections of other dreams, involve people from the Garin Tzabar (program I’m going with), and other instances there are full out dreams themed around the idea of being in Israel.

This is all well and good, but it almost means nothing if I can’t decipher what they are saying. When I picture the kibbutz I’m moving to with my friends, Israeli pioneers, and jungle animals (of all things), there must be a deeper meaning. I’m certainly open to ideas, but the fact that every person and animal were living peacefully is a starting point. The next few months will probably contain many similar situations – but jungle animals?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8oWBuvi8h1A - Video of my kibbutz!

About eight months ago, my sister had to do a project that documented an individual making a “big choice.” Not only do I not see myself as someone who is about to partake in something that should be placed on a pedestal, but at that time this decision was still only a progressive thought. Inside of her documentary video, she interviewed many individuals asking them their opinion of my choice; answers ranged from proud to scared and from jealous to supportive.

As I stated earlier, I feel fortunate for the life I’ve had up to this point and for the family and friends inside of that life. Without their help and opinions, I’m sure I wouldn’t have always made all of the right decisions. So, as I’m watching the video for the first time, one of the last people shown in the video is yours truly. Allison asks why I am making the choice that I hadn’t made yet and I give the answers mentioned in the beginning of my journaling. I was just surprised I looked somewhat articulate up to that point in the filming.

Next, she asked me if I take into account what my family and friends say about my next step. I explained that not only do I hold many people close to my heart but also their guiding words. However, there comes a point when sometimes you have to think seriously about when it is time to go with your dream and your heart. Do I feel badly that many close friends and family members are scared for me and think I could be making other decisions? Yes, somewhat; but its’ still my ultimate decision and I know I’ll always be able to look to them for support and love.

It’s strange to think that at this very moment there are only a small percentage of people who have or have had similar feelings as me. My fellow Garin members and people who have preceded me on this journey are the majority of this group of people. Overall, though, that’s a small number and it’s hard to find people who have to come to the same choices I am going through currently.

Tonight at Shavuot dinner, a fun 12 year old friend of mine, Noam, said, “What’s the point of life? I don’t see it. There’s a few years of nothing when you’re born, then you go to school for a long time, which you do to get a job, which you do to get money, which you get to buy things like food, and you do all of this until you can retire which is when you’re old. And then you die.”

“Wow,” I thought. Is this how many people, especially kids, perceive the world? if so, that is very depressing. Although nearly everything mentioned above are parts in our lives that almost all of us will get to experience, that would be extremely dull, don’t you think? Where is the sense for adventure? The idea that it’s OK to go off the course for a little bit is non-existent in many people, such as today’s youth?

I’m a big advocate of everyone getting the best education they can and using that education to do wonderful things (including the whole job thing). Heck, I did just get a degree in elementary education. But to imagine that there are numerous people who think there is one way to live life, thus making it “pointless,” is disappointing. I am not saying I want people to necessarily choose my exact path. It can be going to Africa to volunteer. Nepal to hike. South America to become a world class soccer player. SOMETHING! Dream big.

Life should have a point. Have something different to live for than just the usual. It makes everything else come together and gives us all life perspective we didn’t previously have. So I plead – make a point in your lives to have a point. And while you’re at it, make sure the others around you get the message, too and to live life to the fullest, not just to the book.

Everything Happens for a Reason...

June 4, 2008

It’s funny how when you start something that you enjoy or produces some type of results, it self-motivates you to continue to do that exact thing. Everyone goes through these stages, sports and drawing to name a few. I’m going through my own right now: Hebrew, running, and now writing. Interesting how they are all intertwined…

A very strange thing happened to me today. I went to my parents’ house.

Ha that wasn’t the strange thing. Gotcha! When I arrived, there was an envelope sitting there on the old reliable dining room table. Just by looking at the outside where it read “DO NOT FOLD” did I already figure out the contents.

I was a mere three feet from my college diploma. I had gone through all of the boring yet enjoyable graduation processes. But that document I was staring at was by far one of the most important pieces of paper I had ever received.

I just stood there in awe with my eyes fixated on the envelope and a smirk on my face. That was it? That’s what the last four years of college look like condensed into a single piece of paper? I felt accomplishment and emptiness. That’s a lot of money, time and effort for just a piece of paper.

This past weekend when I was in Chicago visiting many good friends, one in particular, Mollie Flink, made an interesting analysis about the same concept. Dollar bills are just pieces of paper yet valued so high. Doubtful, but it would be pretty remarkable if people didn’t have to value these bills so much. Back to this diploma…I do feel good that I reached this point in my life; I just hope people, including myself, are judged on other things aside from a paper given by a university or a high school.

As the night unfolded, my dad mentioned he had already read my blog entry and that my mom was about to do the same. Being the keen son of theirs for the last almost 22 years, I made an accurate prediction. Tears flowed from my mom’s eyes like they do many times each year. I was touched to know it meant something to her, yet I hope reading it each time doesn’t bring these tears. Because, at this rate, she’ll go through a hefty amount of tissue boxes. I don’t think my parents signed up for in this part of the deal going into this. Maybe I can get a tissue company to sponsor this…

After eating dinner and enjoying one of my favorite past times of watching the Yankees with my dad, I strolled back over to the infamous table (which has its own long history). I saw another vital document sitting there. It was my passport. I double checked the contents without catching anything out of the ordinary; but the third time, I glanced at what was my Aliyah visa. This was the single piece of paper that was going to gain me Israeli citizenship when I step off that plane at 7:05 AM on August 13, 2008.

The two documents were separated by a microscopic foot; they were much farther away from each other than that, though. One signified an end, the other a very fresh, crazy beginning. Sometimes things randomly happen or fall into place in a strange way. I’ve always thought everything happens for a reason (even if it’s something devastating or awful). I’m still trying to figure out how this one occurred. But it definitely brought a smile to my face.

Although the visa is in black and white and looks like something any computer savvy teenager could make on the computer, it just seems so real. Just looking at the Hebrew inside makes me feel like I’ve already completed all of my steps for getting there. But alas, I look at the cover of the passport and am put back in my place of being in the U.S.A. still. I’ve learned that paper is just what we must use as accountability in almost all that we do, but it’s what we feel and the attitudes we express that truly show our real colors. The Grateful Dead said, “Put your money where your love is.” Don’t mind if I do – Ha’aretz, the Land of Israel.

Pre-conceived Notions

June 3, 2008

I was trying to continuously think when was the best time to start writing in this journal; should I wait until I am on the plane that is the gateway to a changed and new life? Or should I preface the journey with my feelings prior to the experiences that await me? I didn’t really come to a decision, I just was sitting on an airplane, bored, and became motivated by the music streaming through my ears (“Touch of Grey” by the Grateful Dead).

After naming off examples of things that aren’t so good and after claiming, “Every silver lining’s got a touch of grey,” they top it off with the line that, “I will get by.” This isn’t to say that I’m hoping to barely get by in all that I do over the next (insert number here) years. The Dead really do speak to us in this case.

Life is full of challenges. I don’t even think I fully grasp this concept at my wise, old age of 21 years, 11 months, and 15 days. But it’s clear to me at this point that life isn’t always smooth sailing and, come to think of it, if it were, it would be quite boring. The Grateful Dead are stressing that everything will be alright as long as we take what’s presented to us, kick hard times in the butt, and carry a positive outlook with us everywhere we go. Sounds challenging itself, but doable to say the least.

I think a lot of people would agree with me about the notion that an “easy life” might be filled with moments of boredom and regret for not having tried to do the extra thing, reach for the furthest star. When a trusted, kind individual who you consider your Israeli dad (JJ Jonah) tells you at 1:30 in the morning on a weekday while making a special visit just to relay a message saying you can’t live with regrets, I know it’s legit (and everyone else does as well if they know Mr. Jonah). Especially when it’s leaving behind a great life I’ve had for a new ass-kicking in the Israeli army, it must be the right choice because it feels natural and, of course, I wouldn’t want to regret not taking on the new challenge. I don’t know what’s in store. Nobody really does (except maybe that almighty figure up above).

Hadag Nachash probably says it best: Mah she bah sababa – מה שבא סבבה whatever comes will be great.

Since making the official decision to go through with the aliyah process, I almost feel like a professional athlete with how many questions I’ve fielded (hmm professional athlete, maybe I’ll pursue that). Are you scared? What does your family think? Why go to Israel when you have a degree here and could get a good job? What made you reach this decision? I’ll try to now answer these to the best of my ability.

The greatest thing about having a loving family is that I can mention a crazy idea like this one to them and they don’t disown me on the spot. It may not be their first choice for my next step, but they’ll gladly step with me as far as I go. Physically from afar, close mentally.

I’ve had fun jokes with my friends since making the decision that my reasons for joining the army and moving to Israel are solely superficial. Although I can’t deny all of them, here are some of the fun reasons: to get the girls, the glory, the food, to get a rock hard body, etc. (you can figure out which ones might be real).

I know this much: Israel doesn’t need me. She doesn’t need me to roam the land on government money. She doesn’t need me in her army. She doesn’t need my cheap spending ways (yes, I know, I finally admitted to being cheap). She doesn’t need me. Period. I NEED HER. My people didn’t have a home for 2,000 years – years full of persecution, destruction, and attempted annihilation. Sixty years ago, my people, the Jewish people, made a push to form a Jewish homeland and succeeded. These weren’t just pioneers – these were miracle workers. So many have fought so hard to ensure a Jewish land and that is my land, too. Who cares if after years of Israel education and numerous visits there that I so arrogantly feel as though I’ve reached a different level with the land, right? I’m sure that’s what it seems like to some. But after hearing and reading accounts of what some people did to safeguard what we know as Israel today, it wouldn’t do them justice for me to not do what I’m doing. I am not going because I essentially owe them something. I’m going because I owe myself something as a Jew – to live in a free, Jewish state. I need her because I’m Jewish. That’s the simplest way I can put it.

There are several words or concepts or ideas that frighten people from the moment they arrive into people’s minds. Cancer is one. Holocaust is another. Army and war are right up there with the best of them. Even though my parents have (thankfully) let me drive to California numerous times and let me travel around the world, sometimes on my own accord, the idea of going to the army is an instant, scary thought. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t a little afraid of what I’m doing. But I think it’s more of a fear of moving to a new environment and a fear of possibly being overwhelmed with culture shock. I guess that will play its course.

Babe Ruth from “The Sandlot” said, “Everybody gets one chance to do something great. Most people never take the chance either because they’re too scared or they don’t recognize it when it spits on their shoes.” I’m ready to do something great. I’m ready to take the leap of faith for myself and the Jewish people. This is the time. This is living the dream of Hertzl and those who laid the foundations. This is my life.