To Immigrate

“If you ever need anything, I’m here, wherever here happens to be,” Sam tells me. A pause. I compose myself, resist the urge to burst into tears and muster the strength to speak. A drawn out “thanks” that carries the weight of my incessant insecurity about my safety is spoken and we hang up.

To immigrate or not to immigrate, that is the question. I spend many moments here in my seminary bubble pondering over my post gap-year plans. Can I leave everything I have in America behind and make aliyah, the immigration to the Jewish homeland, like Abraham did as he heeded G-d’s command to flee from his birth place?

I am not materialistic nor do I get attached to places. I thrive off of ideas, the acquisition of knowledge and creative expression. I lack the currency to buy into American consumerism and ideology. In America I am bombarded with façade after façade of liberalism and politeness. Do liberal people sit complacently as an ally is physically under attack and lacks the credence to defend itself? What purpose does surface level altruism serve when you have no one to help in your time of need? I am in the west and my heart is on the far ends of the east. I pray towards you daily, Israel, to be reunited with you, and to not get too comfortable in my temporary home from where I will eventually be expelled. For as a Jewess, history predicts that nowhere is safe for me. My people and I will remain a vestigial facet of American life. When push comes to shove are we no less than soon-to-be ashes?

I have pretty much been my own parent for the past four years. I figured out how to fund my miscellaneous expenses including my extra-curricular activities primarily through funding from Jewish organizations on the basis of merit and my promise as a leader. Leaving my parents’ proximity would forever sever the microscopic bond between us. Their role as parents is one from which they can easily retire. Do I have the support I need here?

There are few people I would consider to be my friends, but that selectivity brands them with the elite privilege to uncover the recesses of my essence. I hold friendships deeply and passionately; there is little I would not do for a friend. With blood as thin as mine it is hard to believe it is denser than water. The density of Israeli water will have you in the bathroom for days, with friends to greet you when you exit. News good and bad is reported to my support network firstly, friends secondly. Telling my family is an afterthought. College results, scholarships and awards received and experiences had were shared first with those who helped bring about their happening. Where were mom and dad in the picture? Working. Yes, to fund and facilitate my growth. But did they ever show any interest to how that was coming along? Seldom.

So what does an idealistic, non-materialist, independent person have to give up? That which is familiar. Like any scientist, one must delve into the unknown with faith that they will be okay. The only question that remains is when.