Alef: The NEXT Conversation
NEXT PREV
Slicha, Lo Midaber Ivrit (Sorry, I Don't Speak Hebrew)
By Micah Gurard-Levin
Growing up as one of the few Jewish kids in my school, and even now amongst my peers, people are often confused by my answer when they ask, “Can you speak Hebrew?” Having been raised in a Conservative synagogue community, I respond, “No, but I can read it…aloud. I can pronounce it, but I can’t understand it.” People wonder how that’s possible. How can one read such random looking characters, dots and lines, but not know what they mean?
Since announcing at my confirmation that I didn’t believe in God, I have identified as a cultural Jew. A Jew who loves Shabbat services in Hebrew, even though I don’t understand them. A Jew who cringes at spoken English during services, even though I do understand it. A Jew who, while traveling in Israel as a NEXT Fellow on a Taglit-Birthright Israel bus, acted more like a three year old child while sitting next to the Israelis in the group, pointing at billboards and bus advertisements, sounding out words even though they had no vowels. A Jew who was discovering an ability to read Hebrew like an Israeli, but still couldn’t understand. Ironically, the Israelis on the bus [is that a new verse to The Wheels on the Bus song?] would ask me the same question that my non-Jewish friends asked: “How can you read that if you don’t know what it means?”
Why don’t I understand Hebrew? Why can’t I speak Hebrew? Why, as a cultural Jew, do I lack the ability to participate in one of the most obvious cultural practices of the Jewish people—the ability to speak the language of the people?
I haven’t discovered why, all of a sudden, I have a burning desire to learn to speak Hebrew, but I can’t help but draw a parallel between my evolving Jewish identity and the development of modern Jewish culture that took place seven decades before Israel became a state in 1948. When Jewish people began immigrating en masse to Palestine in the late 1800s, they didn’t speak Hebrew, but rather spoke their native languages, as well as Yiddish. Eliezer Ben-Yehudah, a Lithuanian Jew who moved to Israel in 1881, felt compelled to revive Hebrew as a daily spoken language, giving new life to a language that had been relegated to use only in prayer and the study of Torah.
The rebirth of Hebrew as a modern language served as a unifying cultural practice which allowed Israel to become a nation, and not just a land of Jewish people of disparate European origins.
Perhaps my desire to speak Hebrew is that simple—it’s about unification and a sense of belonging, about wanting to identify as being ‘just Jewish.’ The more involved I become in the Jewish community, and the more time I spend in Israel, the more I, oddly enough, feel like I don’t yet belong. My struggle isn’t about religion—it never has been. My struggle isn’t about keeping Kosher—I don’t and probably never will. My struggle is about wanting to meet an Israeli, in Israel or elsewhere, and rather than say in English, “I’m Jewish and I’ve been to Israel,” to speak in Hebrew and share the inherent bond of being Jewish. But it’s not just about proving that I belong—I want to feel like I belong. I want to be able to eavesdrop when I’m in Tel Aviv on the beach. I want to read Ha’aretz in Hebrew and not in English. I want to know what the heck I’ve been reading for eighteen years. No longer do I want to look at Hebrew the way a non-musician looks at an orchestral score. I want meaning. I need meaning. I want to be ‘just Jewish.’
Photo by JP Puerta, licensed under Creative Commons
Tags: Hebrew, Israel, Tongue Tied
6 Responses to “Slicha, Lo Midaber Ivrit (Sorry, I Don't Speak Hebrew)”
Leave a Reply
Follow Us
2009. Alef: The NEXT Conversation All rights reserved.
Home |
About |
Contact Us
מ×ד כן ומרגש
×ין לי ספק שבסוף ×œ× ×¨×§ שתדבר עברית על בוריה- ×’× ×ª×¢×œ×” ל×רץ
חג שמח
בן
Todah rabah, Ben. Enough said…
I recognize:
m’od = very
ken = yes
ein li = there is no…
ivrit = hebrew
gam = also
l’eretz = israel
hag sameach = happy holiday
ben = ben (that one was easy)
Micah,
I really enjoyed reading this and have always been a fan of your writing style. Mazel tov! You should watch Cast a Giant Shadow (1965) and Exodus (1960). I found them to be fascinating films about the forming of Israel in ‘48 and trying to find one’s Jewish identity. L’Chaim!
Your Italian-American Catholic friend struggling to find his own cultural identity,
Chris
I agree with Everything you wrote — except one thing: There is NO need to read Haaretz in Hebrew! (lol)
I made aliyah 17 years ago and celebrated the day that Haaretz began to be published in English. With the time you save reading Haaretz in English, you can read BOTH Ma’ariv and Yediot Aharanot in Hebrew!
Joel
Religion and State in Israel
@religion_state
Hi Micah,
I lucked out, having grown up in LA as the firstborn son to an Israeli father (and American mother) – I learned Hebrew when I learned English.
I get you, though. I know lots of people (many are my students) with similar frustration – one of the reasons why I developed Ulpan La-Inyan.
I can help you speak Hebrew – http://www.ulpan.com.
All the best
Ami Steinberger
Head Facilitator
Ulpan La-Inyan
I am having issues seeing your blog. It displays all weird with paragraph breaks incorrectly. You might need to look at this.