Tag Archives: Personal

City Living

Last week was the busiest week I’ve had since I moved here and it was great!

Monday was my night at home and therefore the only night I went to bed at a reasonable hour.

On Tuesday, my roommate and I had dinner at Raclette, a very cool restaurant in the East Village that highlights raclette cheese in all of its dishes. Not a good place for those with sensitivities to dairy. Delicious for the rest of us.

On Wednesday, Ally and I saw The Great Comet at the Imperial Theatre. It was my third Broadway show ever and it was amazing. The show is a beautifully presented adaptation of part of Leo Tolstoy’s War and Peace. The set and costumes were visually appealing, the music was engaging, exciting, and surprising, and the story itself was compelling. We laughed, looked around in sheer shock, experienced a lengthy strobe light sequence, and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves. And we had Thai food before the show, which was also delicious. Lots of good eating this week!

Thursday had me back in Times Square to meet up with my brother, who was in town for the night because of a networking event organized by the business school at his college. He had no recollection of ever visiting New York as a kid. It was a delight to see the city through his eyes and hear his observations about everything I’ve ceased to notice, like off-leash dogs, the “mixed retail” of apartments, restaurants, and businesses, and the constant noise pollution from traffic.

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My parents were in town for the weekend, which was just so comforting in every way. I am alone a lot on the weekends and I was very glad to be with the two people who probably care about me the most. They’re both been to New York as tourists more than a few times so we largely wandered around in the sunshine with a few food-related destinations in mind. We ate a lot: Bar Virage, Shilla RestaurantGlaser’s Bake Shop, North SquareThe Coffee Shop, and Breads Bakery.

We also, however, visited the 9/11 Memorial Saturday morning, which was really moving. I was in sixth grade on September 11, 2001. That was when I learned that war existed outside of history books. That was when I learned that there are people in this world who aim to harm those around them. That was when I learned that growing up without knowing this was a privilege.

9/11 changed the world. My students have grown up never knowing the peace and security that I knew as a child. They have never been blissfully ignorant of war, suffering, terror, and fear. It is vexing to me that we do so little to emphasize the importance of peace and dialogue in our schools and in our societies.

I would recommend a visit to the 9/11 Memorial not only as a tribute, but also as a way of starting a conversation about the world we want to build and how to do it.

The parents and I reflected on 9/11 as we walked through the city together. None of us had ever been inside, so we briefly stopped into St. Patrick’s to look around:

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I love religious architecture because it prompts me to think about the people who did the work. I wonder whether the financial, labor, and time contributions were voluntary or forced, a product of devotion or duty. My favorite book about precisely this is Pillars of the Earth. It’s a novel and it’s excellent.

Speaking of books, we also made a visit to The Strand. I love it there but have yet to master the art of browsing without buying.

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So many books!

I walked away with Sex at Dawn, which I first spotted on my last visit to The Strand a few weeks ago. I’m currently in the middle of three other books (Empowering Global Citizens, Moral Failure, and Tender is the Night) so it will be a bit until I open it. All of this alone time, while not my preference, has been rather productive in terms of reading and learning.

It was nice to experience being in New York with a wide range of people this week. It makes me somewhat nostalgic for what could have been, but also anticipatory about what can be. I’m now into my fourth month here and things are still difficult; I wasn’t prepared for such an adjustment and I’m trying really hard. This week, I was glad to be around people who reminded me what’s possible.

Tiny Win

I’m not much into competition, but I won today and I feel like celebrating while the win lasts. Therefore, this post.

Going to and from work today took a long time. 85 minutes there. 110 minutes back. Dark when I left and dark when I got home. Not pleasant. I was frustrated about this when I got home, frustrated because it’s supposed to rain tomorrow and I hate running in the rain, which meant I had to run today. In the dark. Again.

So I compromised. I talked myself into a short run. Less than 30 minutes. Less than 4 miles.

Okay?

Fine. If you say so.

And then I did two things that made a huge difference.

  1. I wrote to a friend, “I’m having such a hard time.” I said a few other things, too, but admitting that I am struggling took a weight off my shoulders that I didn’t even know I was carrying. I have talked openly about this to a few people recently, but felt physically better today.
  2. I swapped motivational workout messages with another friend before heading out for said workout. And took a picture of my fun neon clothes. Now I had to make those clothes worth something.

I got outside, started my watch, and flew.

Flew.

For the first time in months, I was running for me. For me. Not out of anger or frustration. Not out of incompetence or inadequacy. Not away from something or towards something else. Not letting various narratives play out in my head. Just running.

For the first time in months, I didn’t pause to stare into the East River and think about how deep the water is. I didn’t look up at the bridges and think about how high they are.

I just ran.

Song in my head? “Jessie’s Girl.” That one has come up before, but I haven’t heard it in a while. I’ve always enjoyed that song. I used to listen to it thinking about how lucky that girl was to be so loved.

But tonight was different.

Tonight I thought about all the women I am so lucky to know who are so loved by so many. I thought about how beautiful they are, in all the ways. I thought about everything I admire in these women, as individuals and collectively. I was overcome with pride at having such people in my life, people I try to emulate.

I ran feeling good, happy, and whole for the first time since this nightmare began a few months ago.

I didn’t look at my watch until I got back and yes, the run was quick.

But it doesn’t even matter.

Demons, I beat you today.

And I will carry this torch with me into tomorrow.

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Building Peace by Waging War

Disclaimer: I attended a Jewish day school from kindergarten through grade eight and then went to public high school. I grew up celebrating Jewish holidays and going to synagogue Saturday mornings. My siblings and I had to negotiate pretty hard to miss a Friday night Shabbat dinner at my parents’ house and I spent nearly every Friday night at Hillel throughout college. I attended Hebrew School on Sundays throughout high school to keep my Hebrew in reasonable shape and taught a grade eleven Hebrew School seminar on the Arab-Israeli conflict for two years after college. I am currently teaching at a K-12 Jewish day school. The following post reflects my personal beliefs and not necessarily the views of my school and governing bodies, our curriculum, or Conservative Judaism.

An alumnus came to speak to the eighth grade students at school last week. After graduation, he had moved to Israel and joined the IDF, the Israeli Defense Forces. He spoke briefly about the experiences traveling in Israel that led to his decision but most of his talk centered around cool drone technology for gathering intelligence. The kids were understandably impressed and excited. They asked all sorts of questions about the mechanics and uses of the plane. The speaker showed photos of his army unit and explained the challenges of basic training.

I listened to the presentation with my mind racing. I was very aware of the conflicting narratives running through my head. Over the summer, I wrote about the search for congruence in my personal life. Over the course of the presentation, I realized that my views on Israel have historically been highly incongruent with my current conception of the necessity of peace for the sustainability of the planet and humanity.

The following is an attempt to trace my views of Israel and how they have changed over time. These ideas are very much in flux and I’m writing this post to demonstrate that – the changing nature of ideas we hold dear as new evidence and experiences force reevaluation.

High School
When I was a senior in high school, I took a contemporary issues class in which we spent each week investigating an ongoing global conflict in preparation for a discussion, debate, or Socratic Seminar at the end of the week. I remember being really excited when the Arab-Israeli conflict appeared on the docket because I had visited Israel for the first time over the most recent summer break.

During our weekly computer lab session I was sitting next to the boy I’d just started dating. I don’t remember the conversation we had at the time, but I do remember that he later told me, “The look in your eyes when you were talking about what Israel means to you – I couldn’t decide if it was beautiful or terrible.”

Likely, it was both. I felt a deep sense of ahavat yisrael, love of Israel. I was certain that Israel was the place where the Jewish people belonged. To my thinking then, it was the place that had been promised in biblical times and therefore had to be defended at any cost.

For the eight and a half years our relationship lasted, that boy in the computer lab and I managed only a few conversations about Israel without arguing. This is mostly my fault. Israel was usually a topic I would either refuse to discuss, or would only entertain under very limited and specific circumstances. Those were few and far between and largely occurred after an attack in the region made global headlines.

Though I am very much a promoter of dialogue, I was concerned that if I showed anything less than complete devotion to Israel, that would leave room for him and all non-Jews to question the validity of all of Israel’s land claims. Underlying this was the fear that people I knew and loved would not rally behind Israel’s right to exist.

College
The university I attended had a sizeable Jewish minority, which played a huge factor in my initial decision to apply. However, it was during my time in college that I encountered real opposition to Israel and Israeli policies.

My nine years of Jewish education, four years of Hebrew School, and lifetime of synagogue participation had not prepared me to respond to any criticism at all. As I had been taught, Israel was the Jewish homeland. Everything anybody did to defend Israel was good. Everything anybody did to suggest that Israel was misguided in some way, either in policy, laws, or land claims, was bad. All of my experiences with and about Israel had not prepared me to fact check myself and those around me, nor was I able to satisfactorily articulate my personal beliefs on Israel because I’d never engaged in real dialogue about it. I had always shut off those conversations and did not know how to respond when turning away was not an option.

I started to do a lot more reading and a lot more questioning. Everyone I encountered had a lot to say. As the adage goes, “Two Jews, three opinions.” The narrative among my Jewish friends, though varied, was limited. We collectively felt responsible for defending Israel around non-Jews and weren’t entirely comfortable with criticism among ourselves. If we didn’t steadfastly support Israel, who would? And of course, it is very difficult to be the member of a tight-knit group with a specific cultural narrative who starts questioning the narrative.

Hebrew School
Two years after college, while I was both a graduate student and a teacher, I was asked to teach the required grade eleven seminar at my synagogue’s Hebrew School. The Hebrew School model had evolved since I was a student, so this was not a class I had taken. Sure, I figured, how hard could it be?

Topic: Arab-Israeli Conflict
Goal: Explore the Arab-Israeli conflict in context with primary sources and evidence from both sides to help students think critically about Israel in order to deepen their understanding of and connection to it.  
Curriculum: The David Project

According to The David Project’s website, in the new curriculum that I was teaching:

Issues, especially those in the Historical Dimension, are addressed in a more chronological fashion, as opposed to reacting to common allegations or claims against Israel. We hope that this method will allow students to trace the evolution of the conflict and gain a wider perspective of key events.

There are no direct advocacy elements in this curriculum. While we believe Israel advocacy to be a worthwhile enterprise, the goal of this product is to engage students in thoughtful exploration of the conflict and to encourage future study and involvement.

The history of the Palestinian national movement is interwoven with the Israeli history and that of the conflict in general. While we do not take political positions, no study of the conflict could be complete without examining the Palestinian component and gaining a deeper understanding about how Palestinian identity, politics and terrorism, have shaped the conflict with Israel.

There is a greater emphasis on interactive learning, with each unit containing several suggestions for classroom activities that go beyond discussion questions. These activities are designed to produce a more experiential environment and one where students have to engage with the material on a more individual level and at a greater depth.

I learned along with my students. Almost every lesson I prepared involved a learning curve. Throughout the course, we encountered Israel’s founding documents; maps of the Middle East throughout history; statistics about Israeli settlements; political struggles in Gaza and the West Bank; legal documentation of the development of the Palestinian Liberation Organization (PLO); position statements on one-state, two-state, and three-state solutions; academic texts about the refugee problem; and the moral dilemmas of Israeli policy that exist today.

This is what I had been missing throughout my own school years. I am confident that after completing the course my students were better prepared to articulate and defend their personal beliefs about Israel than I was at their age.

Back to Israel
I visited Israel for the second time over the summer of 2013, six years after my first visit. I had grown a lot and learned a lot, and had a completely different experience as a result. Israel had changed, too. There was more government-supported cooperation with Palestinians and Arab-Israelis, but also an increased number of controversial Israeli settlements. Our guide (who I cannot say enough good things about) constantly emphasized the need for multiple perspectives, multiple narratives, and the necessity of seeing all people as simply people who are trying to make a living and a life. Humanity is often forgotten in a fight for the right to exist. Most people, if given the option, would choose peace in order to live their lives and raise their families.

It is one thing to love Israel because of its history, culture, beauty, and people, which I do. It is quite another to agree blindly with every government decision. I had started to understand that in my first year teaching Hebrew School and grew to believe it during that summer.

I grew to love and understand the nuances of Israel far better than I had previously. And it’s really impossible not to love a place that looks like this:

Hebrew School Again
When I taught my Hebrew School course for the second time to a new group of grade eleven students, I had the background of the first year of the course as well as a foundation that came from my discussions with our guide, Ilan, over the summer. I’d spoken to him about my personal struggles to understand various elements of Israeli policy that did not match the narrative I had been taught during my own school days, in which there were no questions and no moral dilemmas.

By the end of the second year of the course, I thought I knew where I stood on questions about security barriers, settlements, and refugees. I did not agree with every decision the Israeli government made, but when do I ever agree with every decision any person, body, institution, or government makes?

Now
As all of my recent writing on peace should suggest, I am very concerned with the state of our world. I am concerned with the lack of discussion given to peace not only in social studies classrooms, but in our contemporary and historical narratives. We are inundated with news reports and media glorification of violence, aggression, and war. We have not developed school curricula that emphasize peaceful dialogue, interactions, relationships, or cooperative efforts towards compromise.

When we talk about Israel, we focus on defense. How are we trying to protect Israel’s right and ability to exist when surrounded by neighbors who have sworn to annihilate it? How are we trying to maintain a distinctly Jewish identity in the tumultuousness of the Middle East? How are we honoring the legacy of those who fought and died so that Israel could exist?

While those conversations should take place, it is the glorification of the fight itself, the wars for independence and existence, that dominate the narrative. The speaker who presented to the eighth grade class at my school last week did not once explain what Israel is fighting for, or who, or why. There was an implicit message that fighting is the only choice, the only option, the only reality simply because it has always been that way. There was absolutely no context for why there’s war in the region or the need for continuous military intelligence. This is due to a prevailing view that Israel needs to fight to literally stay on the map.

While there certainly is ongoing conflict in and around Israel, we need to rewrite the narrative that only emphasizes war. We need to expose today’s students to context. We need to talk about why and who and how, as well as explore peaceful solutions to the conflict. One of my favorite examples is Seeds of Peace, which operates all over the world and has special programs that bring Israeli and Palestinian teens together. These initiatives need to be part of the conversation, too.

Discussions of peace must be far more nuanced than a simple lack of violence. At the moment, the narrative does not go that far. We absolutely need to emphasize peace as an attitude and state of mind if we are going to build a world where sustainable well-being for all is attainable.

Conclusion
I have attempted to convey the evolution of my views about Israel, particularly in relation to my goal of building a better, more peaceful world that is sustainable for all. Likely, these ideas are still in transition and will develop further as I continue to read and learn.

As explained above, the vast majority of my learning began when I was ready to see the other side and wanted to understand perspectives inherently different from my own. All I know for sure at this moment is that dialogue and honest conversation were integral to the expansion of my ideas about Israel and what it means to support Israel in today’s world.

I firmly believe Israel’s fight is worth fighting. If cessation of violence were presently a viable option, the Israelis would stop fighting tomorrow. Since it isn’t, however, they fight to protect their families and lives against those who have sworn that Israel will be destroyed at whatever cost to innocent human life. Ironically, this is the more peaceful option. Protecting human lives and promoting peace in Israel means fighting Hamas and its supporters, who use children as human shields and launch attacks from schools and hospitals.

I believe that Israel’s fight is necessary because it emphasizes that human life has value. If we lose that perspective, we have lost humanity. We can’t build a world that increases sustainable well-being by destroying human life in the process.

Supporting Israel means valuing and protecting the innocent person’s right to live.

Our world is struggling to cope with increasingly advanced AI, increasingly devastating climate change, and a variety of global issues that are far bigger than the conflict in one region. If any nation at all wants to survive, priorities around the globe have to change. We have to decide that innocent human lives are worth protecting and worth a reevaluation of our time, energy, and efforts. Israel is fighting to do that within its borders. This fight to protect humanity needs to be part of the way we discuss Israel’s history, politics, and efforts at conflict resolution.

For me, dreaming is simply being pragmatic. – Shimon Peres