by Tracie Karasik

There are too many evil people in the world looking to destroy, defame, or humiliate the Jewish people. And this sad truth is unfortunately not a novel one. For thousands of years, Jews have been easily targeted as the scapegoats, being blamed for all the problems in the world, persecuted for their beliefs or religious traditions, or had their reputation marred by those who lack tolerance and foster hate.

I feel that it is my responsibility as a Jew to be a champion of Jewish causes. I believe that it is an imperative responsibility as a Jew to preserve, to advocate for, and to give to Jewish causes primarily over those that are not.

That does not mean that I do not advocate for global, secular, or non-Jewish causes, because in its essence, the values of Judaism reflect that of tzadakah, righteousness and doing the right thing, and tikkun olam, repairing the world. Judaism, after all, teaches that performing both ethical mitzvot as well as ritual mitzvot are of paramount importance to the process of tikkun olam. Additionally in Jewish thought, carrying out acts of mitzvot includes giving to all of humanity, not just ourselves. In fact, most Jewish non-profit organizations provide aide to both Jews and non-Jews alike. However, I believe that there are causes worth fighting for, and that helping to ensure the Jewish future, caring for Jews in need, and supporting the land of Israel are foremost on my list.

If we, as Jews, do not support each other than who will? What will be left of the Jewish community and of Jewish traditions if we, ourselves, do not stand behind and provide for each other? We must take a proactive and thoughtful approach towards supporting Jewish organizations and causes around the world. If not, future generations are at risk of losing the indispensable traditions, moral code, and incredible strength of community that have enabled the Jewish people to thrive and exist for over 5,000 years.

One critically important program that exists today, which has sent nearly 300,000 young Jewish adults from all around the world on a free 10-day educational trip to Israel is Taglit Birthright. This program has fostered the growth, solidarity, and reconnection of young Jewish adults to the land of Israel. If not for programs like Taglit-Birthright, supported by organizations such as the North American Jewish Federations, the Jewish Agency for Israel, The Birthright Israel Foundation, the Government of Israel, private philanthropists, and Jewish communities around the world, there would be a dramatic decline in Jewish relevance among contemporary youth, an increase in the division between Israel and Jewish communities around the world, and an even more dramatic rise in assimilation. In June of 2010, I was fortunate enough to participate in a Taglit-Birthright trip to Israel. I would like to share with you a little about my story and how it has affected me in a positive way, however, my story is just one of the thousands of young, Jewish adults who just like me were awarded the opportunity to go to Israel.

From beginning to end, it was evident that the entire trip was extremely safe, well planned, and structured with great care and thoughtfulness. During the trip, I especially felt especially connected to my Jewish identity while visiting Independence Hall in Tel Aviv. It was there that I listened to an actual recording from May 14, 1948, of the voice of David Ben-Gurion, who had declared the creation of the State of Israel from the exact location where I was sitting. Following that, the Hatikvah was played, and I not only felt like I was a part of one of the most significant events in Israel’s history, but that I was proud and grateful to be a Jew in Israel. Furthermore, one of the most significant moments in my life was experienced while in Israel, when I visited the Western Wall. The instant I laid my hand on the wall, feelings of pride and excitement mixed with empathy and awe filled within me, and I began to burst into tears. I felt my Jewish heritage stemming from thousands of years come alive. I felt a deep sense of gratitude to be able to be there as a living descendant of the strong lineage of the Jewish people. To be able to stand there in that moment, and touch a lasting remnant of The Old Temple, in a Jewish country, in which millions of Jews in history had only dreamt of being able to do, was truly remarkable. I felt a deep sense of accomplishment and humility.

Going to Israel not only strengthened my connection to Judaism, but has led me to feeling a much stronger commitment to living a Jewish life, raising a Jewish family, and supporting the Jewish community here and around the world. The continued support of programs such as Taglit-Birthright help to allow each new generation of young Jewish adults to understand their Jewish identity and motivate them to give back to the Jewish community and Israel.

Jewish causes need a place now more than ever. I believe that charity is a fundamental part of the Jewish way of life and that we need to invest in the future of the Jewish people or risk losing it all because of the lack of it. We are such a small percentage of the world’s population, and the survival and prosperity of the Jewish people rests on the amount of support that others can provide for it. I am committed to supporting Jewish causes primarily over those that are not because the future of the Jewish religion, its people, and its posterity depends on the present.

 Photo by zeevveez, licensed under Creative Commons.

by Adam Wolfthal

We arrived to Tel Aviv by Plane
The freezing cabin drove us half insane
Got our luggage, exchanged our money
Stepped outside, it was hot and sunny
Drove north to Golan, admired the hills
Some slept soundly, rest prepared for the thrills
Got to the Kibbutz after a roundabout
Icebreakers, dinner then a few caught a stout
Time at the bar, couldn’t be better spent
Woke up early and off to a hike we went
Bottom of the mountain, temple of pan
The top held panoramic views of this beautiful land
Bunker on mount BenTal had interesting karma
And then our group got its first taste of schwarma
Visited an olive oil production facility
Where they discovered olive wastes utility
Kayaked the rapids of the Jordan river
All that’s expected and more was delivered
Learned about Israel through its musical stars
Two hours later, flaming shots almost burnt down the bar
Rose for a trek up the mountain Herten
As a group we grew closer that is certain
Made our way to Tzfat, best falafel in the world
And learned about how Kabbalah’s story unfurled
Wandered the district of Israeli artists
Then headed to the place where it all started
Yerushalim, we arrived at Caesers
And a trip to the clubs, was a crowd pleaser
Our first view of the dome of the rock could make you cry
We picked up the soldiers, Amir Alon, Eyal and Guy
Two Gals, Odil, Aviv, so pretty
We intro’d and B-line straight for the old city
Each left our note in the Wailing wall
While few wrapped Tefillin, G-d was felt by all
With our soldier groups we strolled the market for lunching
And found some yummies for oneg shabbot munching
For oneg we shared food, stories, and song
Each day made our groups bond more strong
Up nice and early to practice yoga with britty
Before heading to a small park in the city
Spoke with soldiers about scenes that can’t be rehearsed
Then some enjoyed Frisbee while many conversed
Climbed to the rooftop, for the pool, in our sandals
Before we celebrated with the Havdalah candles
Caught a great lecture from Gil, from the news
Before we spoke about what makes us Jews
Stories of our past had our emotions tossed
Continued into the visit of the museum of the Holocaust
Exhibits and pictures of Yad Vashem
Left most of us floored and מחמם (mekhamem- v. stunned)
Visited Her Hertzel, saw leaders graves as expected
But the ages on the headstones put it all in perspective
Its easy to sit back and wonder why
When G-d told Avrahim his kids would be like stars in the sky
Plentiful, phrases learned so we could say them
Soldiers taught us quick, next day we rose at 4 A.M.
To ascend the sight of the defensive
Admired the care put in like its intensive
Brought the sun up, like a bunch of rooster
Spirituality much more than we are used to
The dead sea, floating felt so divine
Mud left our skin felling smoother than this rhyme
Rode gamals, just one got bent (shoutout to Hubert)
Set up for our night in the desert tent
Gal told us all how Zeus did conspire
To burn his wife, the way we did the bonfire
We sang songs, showed off guitar skills
Amazing how 2 chords will make your heart spill
Many slept indoors, some were stargazing
The bond of this crew has become amazing
Next day started with a hike through desert sands
And we picked some carrots with our bare hands
Tomatoes too, passion fruit and some herbs
Making fresh pitas, absolutely superb
Aviv, she took us to her home base
Where we got to see this lands most conflicted place
Learned about pigeons and how they know where to fly
Then we got fa’klempt wishing the soldiers good bye
Felt like we were losing our siblings
But Shargil and Alon reminded us, its only the beginning
We thought about the future, Aliyah wishing
Mostly showed cameras, just reminiscing
Rose, packed went to Independence Hall
Israel’s state was formed there, Golda she bawled
Saw the site where Yitzak was shot
a plaque “murderer” sat right on the spot
Then at the market we all slipped off
And if you weren’t haggling then you got ripped off
The whole experience was more than we could conceive
Because next we spend the afternoon on a beach in Tel Aviv
We told the guy in Jaffa we thought we had found heaven
None of us could think of anywhere better then Birthright twenty eleven…

Read here for more of Adam’s poetry.

Photo of Masada by aguapoman, licensed under Creative Commons.

 by Emily Cornell

I’m getting married in nine weeks. If there’s a groom, that is.

The US consulate in Jerusalem is playing hard to get with my fiancé’s file.*

I’m trying to be all cool about the fact that I am supposed to be standing under a chuppah on November 22nd and there may not even be a hatan there with me thankyouverymuch, but “yiyeh b’seder” just doesn’t fall as easily from my lips as I wish it did.

It’s sometimes hard to believe that it’s already been two and a half years. It doesn’t seem so long ago that I fell in love with a soldier who boarded my Birthright bus in Kiryat Shmone. Thousands of conversations on Google chat and almost as many on the phone, seven FTD bouquets sent in an attempt to make up for the anniversaries, birthdays and no-good-very-bad-days spent apart; five transatlantic trips, three care packages filled with pop rock chocolate, cds of the latest hits getting playtime on Radio Galgalatz and random, quirky finds from the shuk; and two years after one very important promise: we will make it work.

I haven’t always believed that. Add to the count above at least thirty times that I’ve declared the situation utterly hopeless. Pure meshugas to think that two people who are so different – she an American WASP turned Nice Jewish Girl and he a Russian-born Israeli – and with so many obstacles in the way could ever even dream of getting to happily ever after.

But just as I raise my voice to argue the point yet again, I hear him say “Get real mami. When was the last time you heard a fairytale that started: Once upon a time in Kiryat Shmone?”

Again I’ve been outdone.

Of course I have. I’m marrying an Israeli. From a land where arguing is an official national sport. Where telling somebody “you can’t” is just some encouragement for them to continue on.

It doesn’t take long before I am laughing again – through the tears of frustration and longing to be in the same time zone as my best friend. I realize that this doesn’t have to be a fairytale. It just has to be the unlikely story of two people who made it work.

My name is Emily and I’m getting married on 26 Heshvan 5772. Maybe. Hopefully. Whatever happens: yiyeh b’seder.

*Update: It is early Friday morning and just a few days after I have written this. Igor waited hours to wake me up to tell me that the consulate has called. There’s not an exact date yet but “maybe in September or definitely in October,” he’ll have an appointment with a visa official. I think I’ll send the wedding invites out this week…

photo by jaaron, licensed under Creative Commons.

by Vanessa Mieger

Coming home from Birthright is tough. You’ve spent the last 10 days meeting interesting people, learning much more than you expected, and seeing amazing places. And it’s not just a vacation — it makes you think. About everything. So when you get back to “real life”, carrying this new perspective over to reality can be tricky.

When I got back, processing everything that Birthright got me thinking about wasn’t easy. I was never the involved type in school, but suddenly I felt the urge to connect, to be a part of something. I can’t fully explain this, but I can say that Birthright has this effect; It makes you feel different, think different, see different. Maybe it’s something as simple as coming home and wanting to organize Shabbat dinners with your friends. For me, I wanted to go back to Israel. I wanted to keep this intellectual and spiritual stimulation going. But I didn’t want to go back to Israel and just be a tourist. I wanted to learn and teach and be inspired and challenged and to have a meaningful experience as a continuation of my Birthright experience. So I looked into Masa programs.

I did a lot of research and finally decided on a great program called Tikkun Olam in Tel Aviv-Jaffa. I lived and worked in the heart of Jaffa, working with underprivileged women and children. I had no teaching experience and very little experience volunteering but I just jumped in. The women and children I worked with were Arab, Ethiopian, Russian, Jewish, Christian, you name it. The Women’s Court, and incredible organization where I worked taught me so much about the power of human connections no matter what race or religion. It was a big challenge but equally rewarding.

As on my Birthright trip, I learned much about myself over the past year in Israel. I have learned that I need to constantly be learning and passing on the information I learn. I need to be challenged in order to be my most successful. And mostly I learned about the importance of human connections no matter what race, religion or social class. Most of the women and children that I worked with did not speak English, but this did not prevent us from connecting. With some time I formed friendships and an understanding with them that I will keep for the rest of my life. This is true coexistence, and this is what made my experience so rich and rewarding.

So coming back to “real life” again, I come back more confident and fulfilled but also feeling that I accomplished something over the past year. Birthright introduces you to the possibilities and it’s your job to translate that into action. The challenging part for me now is trying to carry over my experience there and incorporate it into my life here in San Francisco. I’m not sure what form this will take yet, but I do know that I am passionate about keeping this feeling and not leaving this past year in Israel as just a memory.

To learn more about programs like Vanessa’s, visit masaisrael.org.

Photo provided by the author.

When JDub Records – home to such interesting and innovating Jewish musical projects as Deleon and the Sway Machinery – announced they were shutting down, people were shocked at the sudden closing of what was seen by many as one of the premier venues for for cutting edge Jewish arts. While there is much that can (and has been) said about the significance of JDub’s closing, and what it means for the Jewish community, we at Alef want to use this time to thank JDub for everything they’ve done for Birthright Israel NEXT, for Jewish arts and artists, and for the Jewish world as a whole. Here are a few of our favorite JDub memories:

We’re well into Birthright season this Summer and the trip staff can’t resist blogging from the road.

	Bay Area August Trip Only 13 days to go before we head off on the trip of a lifetime Read more…
	Chicago Community Trip 4:15 am for coffee and cake? Waking up at an hour like this has got to be for something worth it. Read more…
	South Florida August Trip Welcome to Israel! About to begin the greatest adventure of our life. Stay tuned for our first day of hiking and rafting. Read more…
	D.C. Community August Bus There is a pocket in the pit of your stomach you may not know you have. It lies somewhere off the large intestine, a small cavern in which remnants of last night’s dinner tie knots with nerves. This is the spot you feel first when you wake up at 3:30 in the morning. Read more…
	Atlanta Community July Trip Today we landed in Israel and started our journey at Ceaserea and had a nice mini welcome ceremony. We have made our way to Kibbutz manta. The rest of the night is a little orientation and then shower and sleep for our day in Tzfat and floating down the Jordan River. Everyone have a great day over in the states. Bennie and Liora Read more…
	Los Angeles, Bus 32 Free time at the beach in Tel Aviv, we loved swimming in the Mediterranean Sea! See more!
	Los Angeles We spent last night huddled around a campfire, introducing our Israeli soldiers to the joy of s’mores. we slept in one big Bedouin tent and awoke just after sunrise for a morning desert hike. After learning about the geology of the terrain and even discovering some skeletons, we visited the grave site of the first prime minister of Israel, David Ben Gurion. The views and the heat were both profound. Read more…
	Colorado Community Rafting on the Jordan River was an activity that some boats accomplished with more finesse (and strategy) than others. None the less, everyone had a blast. Cooled off, relaxed from the water and hungry for dinner we headed back to the hotel. Read more…
	D.C. Community June Trip The final days of the trip shed light on the struggle Jews have endured throughout history to keep their faith, community, and country. Read more…
	Atlanta Community May Trip Wow! The past 48 hours have been amazing for this group! Yesterday we woke up at 4am to ascend Masada and see sunrise. It was a breathtaking and once in a lifetime moment for all. Read more…
	Bay Area Today is Shabbat and we spent the morning discussing different topics related to Judaism and Israel. Everybody really brought some thought-provoking ideas to the table and the discussion was enjoyed by all. Today we have a day to reflect and relax for Shabbat before tonight, when we spend our last night here in Tiberias. Read more…

All images provided by the Bus Bloggers.

By Sarah Pumroy

Masada, the Dead Sea, touristy shopping malls on the side of a highway, the hot, vast desert, Bedouin tents, vodka hangovers, The Bus, shwarma, “sababa,” the shuk — I’m going to Israel for the 2011 ROI Summit on Saturday and these images, typical of the Birthright experience, are what come to mind. But I anticipate that this trip, although also 10 days long, will be a very different experience.

I went on Birthright as a senior in college and had an amazing time. Such a good time that it wasn’t a major leap to end up working in communications at Birthright Israel NEXT soon after college. In 2009, I was lucky enough to get to go on another Birthright trip as a staff member and NEXT representative. This Israel experience was somewhat more eye-opening than the first trip (as I was more mature and got more sleep) but all in all, very similar to my first time in Israel.

Now, I’m packing my bags and getting ready to go back for a third time. But a new opportunity awaits me: I’m attending the 2011 ROI Summit, a meeting of young, Jewish change-makers and innovators from all over the world. I’ll spend 4 days at the conference in Jerusalem, networking and learning with some really interesting people. After that, I’ll stay with a family friend in Jerusalem for the weekend. Then, I have a few days in Tel Aviv, where I’ll explore the city’s shops, restaurants, coffee shops and nightlife.

I’m fairly nervous about this trip; I’m used to seeing Israel via tour bus, where someone else tells me when to wake up, what to see (and what I’m seeing) and when to go to bed. It’s a pre-determined view of the country. This time, I go as a young adult, less sheltered, but with more opportunities available to me. Alef has asked me to blog about my time in Israel, specifically focusing on how the trip is different from Birthright.

Have you traveled to Israel outside of Birthright? Want to tell us about your experience? Email Alef at alef@birthrightisraelnext.org.

Sarah Pumroy is Communications Manager at Birthright Israel NEXT.

Summer 2011 trip alumni: Tell us your story here.

This summer you, along with another 15,000 young Jewish adults from across North America, embarked on a Taglit-Birthright Israel trip. Welcome home! Now that you’re back, you join the growing NEXT community of Birthright Israel alumni who have shared in this memorable journey and return with stories to tell about their 10 days in Israel.  Here, we ask you all to give voice to your experiences.

What was the most surprising part of your trip? Please share with us in 50 words or less in the comments below. 

By Kate Bigam

It was a straightforward question, spoken in a tone that was casual but knowing: “Did it change you?” he asked us. We were two Birthright participants who had recently returned from our introductory trip to Israel, and on that Shabbat evening, the questions from friends and family had, until that point, focused on things like weather and camels and politics. His question took us by surprise with the impact of its simplicity; it was the question I didn’t realize I’d been waiting for.

The answer, of course, was yes. We are changed, though neither of us has yet to determine how. Still, the feeling is there, bubbling under the surface, sometimes spilling out in the form of tears during a Friday night Shema that reminds us of standing atop Masada at sunrise.

In Israel, I fell in love with a dozen experiences so individually distinctive that there was hardly time to process their impact before moving onto the next. Multiple times a day, I learned lessons about myself and my faith, my history and my heart. Indeed, I have never felt quite so alive as I felt during those 10 days. When I arrived home to Ohio, though, I found I could not speak of Israel, even to answer the simplest of questions. It hurt too much – it hurt to remember the joy I’d left behind, to admit aloud that I would never again be in the same place with the same people having the same experiences. In the days following my return, I awoke every morning with an aching sense of loss and an unshakable feeling of displacement at being away from the land I’d so quickly come to love.

The 50 participants on our trip – Americans, Canadians and Israelis alike – parted ways with one common question at the forefront of our thought: How do we maintain the magic? We all agreed that we felt changed, but determining what shape that change would take when we returned to real life proved more difficult to identify. Even now, weeks after our return, I’ve yet to pin down the specifics.

Maybe it’s a change of faith, a renewed connection to ancient tradition that has deepened my desire to connect with Judaism on a spiritual level.

Maybe it’s a change of perspective, putting names and faces and personalities to the formerly abstract concept of a militaristic country where everyone is a soldier or a veteran, where rifles are not just common but compulsory.

Maybe it’s a change of politics, a newfound understanding that when you are truly love a country, you do not forsake it for its flaws; you work to better it so that you may embrace it more fully.

Maybe it’s a change of personal connection, a previously nonexistent relationship to the concept of Zionism and the necessity of a Jewish homeland. Finally recognizing that it’s called “the homeland” because wherever we come from, we are welcome in Israel almost unconditionally.

Maybe it’s a change of attitude, the inspiration that comes with 10 days of feeling every emotion intensely and passionately. The motivation to live a fuller, more meaningful life. To become more adventurous, more educated, more aware. To take risks, to be happy, to live beautifully and with intention.

These are the lessons I have brought home with me, the most boiled-down versions of my detailed, convoluted thoughts of Israel. Even now, recalling my time there is almost too much to bear, too much to distill. The change within me is not as clear as I’d like it to be, either; it lurks inside me and forms slowly, rather than bursting forth clearly and with purpose, as I’d hoped. I am the same as I ever was, but there is something new, too, a budding love for Israel that has taken root within me and will continue to grow even after the sharp pain of longing has dissipated.

The details, I trust, will become clearer with time, and a clearer picture of the ways Israel changed me will begin to emerge. In the meantime, my breath catches whenever I think about the magnitude of the possibilities and promise this new relationship holds and the many ways that I may carry Israel with me. Here I am in the west, where I have always been – but for the first time, a large part of my heart is, truly, in the east. And this is only the beginning.

Photo provided by the author.

Interested in Israel? Enjoy the rest of Issue # 19: Israel.

By Shannon Sarna

This piece originally appeared in The Jewish Week.

Almost eight years ago I traveled to Israel for the first time on a Birthright Israel trip through Hillel. Recently I returned with my husband, brother and uncle to visit my sister, who is spending the year there on a Young Judaea Year Course. At first glance this hardly sounds different from the experiences of any other Jewish professional.

But my siblings and I are the products of a typical American Jewish narrative: attractive Italian Catholic pianist from Brooklyn meets disengaged Jewish rocker from Yonkers. They fall in love, get married, and have a family.

Did our mother convert? No. Did we attend synagogue? Not regularly. Were we exposed to Christianity? Absolutely. Religious institutions were frowned upon in our household, but being a good person, believing in a higher power and giving back to community were all emphasized. Amazing Jewish grandparents who loved and embraced us no matter how we identified were another important piece of our childhood.

Working in the Jewish community for the past six years, I hear a lot of negativity, even from the very funders of “crucial” Jewish organizations, that the investment in youth and outreach isn’t working; that there aren’t enough measurable outcomes. That we are “losing” Jews. I would not claim that we’re achieving miracles daily. Or that every success can be measured. But the situation is not the Jewish crisis that so many like to bemoan.

I take great pride in explaining to such naysayers that my family is a success story of the Jewish community; we are an example of the choices children of interfaith families make when they connect with welcoming, embracing professionals and organizations. The Jewish development of my family is no accident. We started by having a spiritual, open-minded and culturally Jewish family. The next key ingredient was engaged Jewish grandparents who exposed us to Jewish religion and culture, but never forced it down our throats.

Although the Jewish Outreach Institute’s Grandparents’ Circle didn’t exist at the time, I am confident that a support system like this program would have only further championed my grandparents’ loving influence. I was also lucky to have mentors who encouraged my spiritual exploration, and caring Jewish professionals who welcomed my desire for further education. By the time I had the opportunity to engage with the Jewish organizational world during my formative college years, I was primed to be open to the experiences presented.

One of my former bosses, Avraham Infeld, frequently remarks, “There’s only one thing that 90 percent of North American Jews do: go to college!” Hillel (along with other campus-focused organizations) is uniquely positioned to have an impact on the greatest number of Jews in North America simply by being a presence in one very common location.

Hillel had a major impact on my personal and professional Jewish journey. The first time I went to Israel was on a Birthright Israel Hillel trip. The second time was also with Hillel, to attend the 2003 United Jewish Communities (now Jewish Federations of North America) General Assembly, and it was on that trip that I made connections with Hillel staff that led to my eventual career as a Jewish communal professional.

And now, in a similar fashion, my sister, with little formal Jewish education, was accepted for a Young Judaea Course and is having a life-altering year in Israel; she is bonding with other Jewish students from all over North America, volunteering with various communities and connecting with her own Jewish identity in ways she never imagined.

Her ability to attend can certainly be attributed in part to the patient and welcoming staff at Young Judaea, which spent countless hours on the phone with her and our father, explaining all the ins and outs and walking them through the application process. Her year in Israel, a major investment in my sister’s Jewish identity on the part of the community, will have a lasting impact on her, our family and her future family, as did the investment that Birthright, Hillel and countless other organizations made did on me.

With nearly 50 percent of Jewish students on college campuses having only one Jewish parent, our family’s story is not an exception. We represent the community’s greatest opportunity to affect those who have had negative experiences, or no experience, with the Jewish community. We are the “lost” Jews that so many organizations are trying to “find.”

When I brought my brother and uncle to the Western Wall in Jerusalem for the first time last month, along with my sister and my husband, I was thankful for all the professionals and organizations who have contributed to my success and to a meaningful Jewish identity for my typically American Jewish family.

Shannon Sarna is communications manager at The Samuel Bronfman Foundation.

Photo by Calsidyrose, licensed under Creative Commons.

Read more from Issue #12: Going Home.