What does Zionism mean to you?

                                                                   What does Zionism mean to you?

                In 1920, my paternal grandfather was smuggled to Israel on the back of a fish truck from Iraq and moved straight to the Old City. In 1950, my paternal grandmother came to Israel, also from Iraq, escaping persecution, and moved into a tent in Rechasim. They didn’t speak a word of Hebrew, their clothes had an air of Arabian nostalgia to them, and were ideologically lacking in all things Israeli. But they were Jews, and they had arrived home.

                As a native-born sabra, my father, after four years of army service, left the country. He met my mother, a second-generation American, who would like to stay that way thank-you-very-much. I grew up hearing “Israel is a land that eats its inhabitants,” “I served enough time in the army for the entire family,” and “You were so lucky you were born in America.”  Ironically enough I would always be a daughter of Zion. Unless my father changes his first name…then I would only be one in the figurative sense.

                From the time I was born, I spent every summer in Israel at my Savta’s house. To her dismay, I’ve learned that there really is more to Israel than her town, Beitar Illit—though I hadn’t seen it at the time. Our last family trip occurred in the summer of 2000. The slew of events that immediately followed that  trip; 9/11, the Second Intifada and terrorists on planes and buses was enough reason for my parents to switch our next vacation destination to Florida. Despite all of its “Sunshine State”-glory, I just never had the same connection to it as I do to Israel.

                When I was fourteen, I joined a Jewish youth group to stay connected to my heritage while in a public school. When I heard they were running a trip to Israel, I immediately asked my parents if I could go and they said yes, provided that I would finance it myself. I raised the money and joined the trip; this strengthened my love of Israel and inspired me to find ways to fund my future Israel-related experiences. It was the first time I really saw Israel and came back to America feeling like it was indeed my country. When I was fifteen, I decided I wanted to be involved in Israel advocacy. I got my start by getting involved in AIPAC and the Write On for Israel program, where I learned about Israel’s history, current events and got to visit for an intensive, on-the-ground look at the issues. All was dandy; I was an advocate and was perfectly happy doing so in the comforts of America; moving to Israel never crossing my mind, though.

                As I became more religiously involved, I decided I wanted to study in a seminary in Israel after high school. After my parents refused, I raised all of the money myself and told them I was going. That summer, a friend and colleague had just returned from a year of yeshiva study with plans of moving to Israel and joining the army. It was the first time a friend of mine had decided to do that and I did not understand. “Why move to Israel and join their army? We get the benefit of free security from here and can visit whenever we like. Yes we’re Jewish, but America is our country,” I maintained. We sat next to each other in the office that summer working and discussing moving to Israel. We discussed Maimonides, Nachmonides, and Herzl…and I came out that summer knowing I would make aliya.

                In my year in seminary I got to experience a taste of what living in Israel was like. I lived with Israelis, spoke Hebrew, waited in lines, held women’s babies on buses and got invited to strangers’ houses for Shabbat. I visited the holy cities, both the places mentioned in the bible and new cities established with biblical names. I danced and sang in the streets of Jerusalem with my people and raised money and collected toys for families during Pillar of Defense. I was beginning to understand what it meant to be a Jewish country. With our efforts concentrated together, we are advancing ourselves as Jews without fear of being kicked out. For two thousand years, we survived, and prospered under the auspices of foreign rulers. Now we are sovereign, and are building a state based on our values. We are no longer surviving--we are now living. I have recently decided to defer making aliya until after college so that I can give back to the organizations that gave to me throughout high school. That journey very much requires me to be engaged with Zionism, and so I hope I will be able to do that with you.