Surreal Time

While teen daughter
is in Israel, this mom
has some sleepless
nights.

A

few weeks ago, my parents, hus-
band, son and I were riding down
the Belt Parkway in New York
to take our 17-year-old daughter, Jolie, to
JFK. She was about to embark on Ramah's
six-week Israel Seminar, a trip she knew she
wanted to do since she was about 9.
The news that Hamas murdered the three
teen-aged boys was less than 24 hours old.
Seated in the middle row with my mom,
I curled my hand
into hers. I just kept
squeezing it.
The scene at the
departure terminal,
though chaotic,
was almost healing.
Hundreds of Jewish
teens about to leave
for Israel on one trip
or another greeted
Stacy
each other with
Gittleman
smiles and hugs.
Contributing
Expressions on the
Writer
faces of the parents
revealed one thing:
We all knew our relatively carefree Jewish
American kids were headed to Israel in a
time of national mourning. Who could pre-
dict that a war would unfold just days after
their arrival?
What have I been doing since she left?
It has been a surreal time. While the pro-
gram posts photos of the kids having fun
on hikes and gazing over the Haifa skyline,
while my daughter calls me from Jerusalem
telling me about the fantastic time she had
working with the children at the Ramah
Israel Day camp in Jerusalem, friends in
Tel Aviv, Ra'anana and Beersheva post on
Facebook about dashing for stairwells or
shelters when the sirens blare.
On my wrist, I wear a blue StandWithUs
rubber bracelet showing my support for
Israel. My watch is set to Jerusalem time so
I know the best time to call my daughter.
My cell phone has become an appendage to
my body. I pray daily for the safety of my
daughter, for all of Israel and its Defense
Forces.
I thank Ramah Seminar in Israel for its
tireless efforts to keep our kids safe and hav-
ing as an enjoyable and educational experi-
ence as possible while constantly keeping
parents in the loop of the changing security
situation.
After an extended stay in their northern

Surreal on page 10

Jessica Curharr,.
surprised by her siblings Noah, Sophie
and Stephanie for her June birthday.

One young
Detroiter feels
useless regarding
the current
situation.

Jessica Curhan
Special to the Jewish News

I

feel overwhelmed. I feel sad; I feel
angry; I feel useless. Uselessness is
a new emotion to me, one I did not
have before coming to Israel. If I were
back in the Metro Detroit area, I imagine
I would be demonstrating, reading the
news and op-eds, and constantly talking
with friends, family and peers.
I have been taking those same actions
here in Jerusalem. However, I do not feel
satisfied. During the time of the kidnap-
pings of the teenagers, I felt like I was out-
side of Israel. I received news updates on

my phone and did not witness anything
with my own eyes.
Since the deaths of the teens, I
experienced some of the news stories
before they are reported. This includes
(in chronological order): walking past
protesters screaming "Death to Arabs";
witnessing a group of Jewish teenagers
chasing after, throwing stones and yelling
at two Arab teenagers in a park; attend-
ing a demonstration with a sign reading,
"An eye for an eye will make the whole
country blind. No revenge will return our
sons"; and hearing four sirens warning me
rockets from Gaza are coming toward me.
I am struggling to process the anger
and insensitivity between people who self-
identify as being in the pro-Israel tent: I
am part of it. Ripples of anger go through
my body when I read or hear people only
talking about the rockets. What about the
air raid strikes happening in Gaza? Even
though it is perceived as self-defense, it is
still traumatic for me.
I also feel frustrated when I read of

people only talking about the destruction
taking place in Gaza. Israel feels threat-
ened, and I would like that feeling to be
acknowledged. Palestinians feel occu-
pied, and I would like that feeling to be
acknowledged.
Now the ground invasion has begun. I
have a moral headache.
One of the many powerful statements
I have read comes from Gershon Baskin
[founder, Israel/Palestine Center for
Research and Information]. In an op-ed,
he ends by saying, "Force must be used
at times when there are no other options.
But force alone will resolve nothing:'
I desperately hope that there soon will
be other options. I keep asking myself
how I can be part of the change. I still do
not have an answer and, therefore, I feel
useless.

❑

Jessica Curhan of West Bloomfield is a 2013

graduate of University of Michigan currently

living in Jerusalem.

When Will It Be Enough?

Rabbinical student: "No one should live like this."

Miriam Liebman
Special to the Jewish News

The last time I checked the news
this obsessively was before the last U.S.
presidential election. Today, I wish my
f you close your eyes, Jerusalem
compulsion was to check whether a
is a beautiful city. If you turn off
state's projection is red or blue. "No one
the news, shut your ears and hide
should live like this:' I told my friend
in the comfort of one-ness and same-
giving me siren instructions. "No one:'
ness, Jerusalem is a beautiful
Israel's Iron Dome does not
city. But open your senses
make me feel safer nor does it
and Jerusalem is fraught with
_ make me proud. Its technologi-
complication that seems to
cal achievement is impressive
find a way to burrow itself
and far beyond my compre-
deep into your identity as a
hension. But the need for it is
Jew, as an American and as a
tragic. Neither an air war nor a
person.
ground offensive will solve the
Miriam
A friend told me that when
real problem: a continued reli-
Liebman
you hear a siren, if there is a
ance on the blunt instruments
bomb shelter in the building,
of force and violence to address
go there. If not, find your way to the
deeply complex and emotional issues.
stairwell. If you are in a car, a bus, on
It certainly does not diminish the
the street or an open field, instructions
emotional pain and suffering on all
are different: run into the first house
sides caused by years of war, years of
you see, lie flat on the ground and wait.
threat and years of occupation. Tonight,
Wait and hope for the best.
I sit in fear in my apartment overlooking

I

the Jerusalem hills hoping to God that
when I go to sleep, I wake up if there is
a siren. Yet, if I fail to hear it, chances
are I will wake up safely in my bed the
next morning, not because of the Iron
Dome, but because of my privilege and
the power that comes along with my
privilege in this country. No one in Gaza
can say the same tonight.
And so, at the end of the day, at the
end of every day, I am left with the
question: Is it really worth it? How
many more losses must we suffer
before we begin to question the moral
fabric of what we have become? How
can I go on with life as usual knowing
that within the distance a rocket can
travel to threaten my life, hundreds are
dying? When will it be enough?

❑

Miriam Liebman of Farmington Hills

is a rabbinical student at the Jewish

Theological Seminary's campus in

Jerusalem.

July 24 • 2014

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