A Home That Never Was: My Jewish Experience
My Mother’s side is Hungarian, and my Father’s side is Austrian and Polish, and maybe some other mixture I am not entirely sure of, but all of them were European and Jewish. My great-grandparents and my great-great-grandparents took the voyage over the Atlantic to land my family in the United States in the late 1800s to early 1900s, arriving in New York City for a new life and new home. I grew up in Northern New Jersey. I went to my small synagogue on Saturdays. I lit the menorah each of the 8 nights of Hanukkah and got lifted in a chair at my Bat Mitzvah while people danced and sang. I said the 4 questions on Passover and ate round challah on Rosh Hashanah. All in New Jersey. But for as long as I could remember, I was told a small country in the Middle East was my home. I knew about Israel for as long as I could remember.
The land of milk and honey. The land of safety for the Jewish people. The land of beautiful fruit trees and seas and deserts with big cities and small towns. The land of Israel.
When I was in Hebrew school, which is a place of learning for young Jewish people to be prepared for their Bat/Bar/B’nai Mitzvah, I was told that it was my destiny to go to Israel. I would touch down there in a big airplane and immediately feel connected with my ancestors and all the Jewish people. The invisible string that connects each of us: past, present, and future. We celebrated Israel’s birthday by cutting cake and singing the Israeli national anthem, Ha Tikvah. A song I still know by heart at age 24. We had Israeli citizens come in and tell stories of the beautiful place they called home.
They left out one significant detail that I wouldn’t learn about until college, and that was that someone else called it their home, too. I remember being in high school and having a classmate who had the shape of Israel on her necklace. I remember feeling annoyed because she wasn’t Jewish. What was her business in wearing that? But at the time, I did not know that she didn’t call it Israel. She called it Palestine. She called it her home, too. I think about her often to this day. As I walked around the halls of my high school, dreaming about when I would get to go to Israel, she dreamed of when she would get to go to Palestine. We had a dream that, on the surface, seemed the same, yet beneath that surface, they couldn’t be any different.
I went to Israel in December of 2019. The plane touched down, and I did feel the electricity in the air; I finally made it there and was surrounded by other Jews who all wanted the same thing as me. I saw the energy of Tel Aviv and the beauty of Masada. I tasted the salt of the Dead Sea and heard the singing in Jerusalem. I went to Yad Vashem and thought of my people who were tortured and starved and beaten and murdered. I felt like I belonged in Israel. During my time there, there was some talk of Israel and Palestine, described as a conflict, but I remember being confused and unsure. It wasn’t until after my time in Israel that I started to learn more about Palestine and the Palestinian people.
I became angry that no one told me Palestinians even existed. I was angry when I found out that what we call Israeli Independence Day is what others call The Nakba or a catastrophe. I was angry that I never talked to that girl in high school and never bothered to hear her story. I was angry when I found out Palestinians couldn’t go to their homes, but I could go to the same place someone told me was supposed to be home and could do that for free. I was angry. I am angry.
The land of milk and honey. The land of safety for the Jewish people. The land of beautiful fruit trees and seas and deserts with big cities and small towns. All at the expense and harm of a beautiful group of people who want to be home. I tore the Zionism that was placed in my heart. I did not put it there on my own; it was placed there by years of teaching that left out a significant piece of the puzzle.
My story is one of many Jewish experiences. Some Jews support the state of Israel and call themselves proud Zionists. Others, like me, have left Zionism or are recovering Zionists, condemning the state of Israel and the role they have played in the harm to Palestinians. Some people do not know what they are. Others ignore it altogether. Others are learning, listening, and exploring this topic. I do not speak for every Jewish experience, only my own. Still, others stand with me in unlearning and raising our hands in anger and fury.
When asked about this topic, I often say that you can be stabbed by a knife and hold it at the same time. Many Jewish folks have had experiences of antisemitism, to brutal extents, including myself, while also turning away from the complexities of this subject and ignoring the pain that is within the Palestinian experience. We have celebrated the existence of a Jewish homeland while failing to see the pain that has been brought onto millions because of it. This is not an either/or situation; it is a both/and. We can be harmed and cause harm at the same time. I have been harmed and caused harm at the same time. Most of us have.
We can support the Palestinian people and Jewish people.
We can make safe spaces for Jews while also letting Palestinians come home.
We can fight against the State of Israel while also fighting for the Jewish people.
We can condemn the Israeli government and its atrocities and fight Antisemitism.
We can support the fight for Palestinians and support and fight for Jews.
We can cry for the events of October 7th and mourn the death of Jews while also continuing to condemn the Israeli government and fight for Palestinians.
I have been rejected from my own Jewish community for fighting against the state of Israel and not identifying as a Zionist. This pain I have of being rejected by some members of my community does not come close to the pain of Palestinians being pushed out of their homes more than 75 years ago and not being able to return. I am not sure if those who have rejected me ever wanted to be in community with me at all. They do not share my ideas of humanity and Judaism, and that is okay because we are not all the same. I am a Jew and they are Jews. I just hope I can still stand with my people and tell my story and listen as they tell theirs.
For me, Judaism is Tikkun Olam and Tzedek Tzedek Tirdof. It is Tzedakah. It is braiding a loaf of challah on Shabbat and feeding the people I love. It is holding hands and dancing and singing. It is love and community. My Judaism is boundless and immense and is constantly expanding as I learn more about myself, my history, and my people. The state of Israel will never define my Judaism.
As I am still learning about what is occurring in Palestine, I am constantly seeking resources, content, stories, and experiences. When we listen to each other, particularly marginalized voices, we strengthen one another. Below are only some resources, including podcasts, social media accounts, books, etc, that provide information about this topic from Palestinian and Jewish perspectives. They are a start but are absolutely not an end; I encourage everyone to do their own inquiry and discovery. We cannot stop listening to one another and engaging with one another. Listening and sharing keep our humanity intact, and that is something we have to hold on to. Now and Forever.
Resources:
@eyeonpalestine
@letstalkpalestine
@jewishvoicesforpeace
@eid_yara
@palestinian_grandma
@ifnotnoworg
@theimeu
@palestinianyouthmovement
Books
- In My Mother’s Footsteps by Mona Hajjar Halaby
- The Lemon Tree: An Arab, A Jew, and The Heart of the Middle East by Sandy Tolan
- My Promised Land: The Triumph and Tragedy of Israel by Ari Shavit
- In This Place Together: A Palestinians Journey to Collective Liberation by Penina Eilberg-Schwartz
- Freedom is a Constant Struggle: Ferguson, Palestine, and the Foundations of a Movement by Angela Davis
- The Ethnic Cleansing of Palestine by Ilan Pappe
- The Hundred Years' War on Palestine: A History of Settler Colonialism and Resistance, 1917–2017 by Rashid Khalidi
- Decolonizing Israel, Liberating Palestine: Zionism, Settler Colonialism, and the Case for One Democratic State by Jeff Halper
- Hamas Contained: The Rise and Pacification of Palestinian Resistance (Stanford Studies in Middle Eastern and Islamic Societies and Cultures) by Tareq Baconi
Podcasts
https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/rethinking-palestine/id1537774938
https://www.cfr.org/podcasts/israel-hamas-war-elliott-abrams-and-steven-cook
https://www.972mag.com/topic/podcast/
https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/this-is-palestine/id1509337661
