“My words fly up, my thoughts remain below:
Words without thoughts never to heaven go.”
–Hamlet, III. iii. 98-99
Shakespeare: The name that many high school students have come to dread hearing. Each year of high school, the curriculum required English students to analyze a specific Shakespearian play. The year that I was in 12th grade, my English class was assigned “Hamlet.” Upon finishing high school, I didn’t think I would ever think about “Hamlet” again, but today, something that happened in one of my midrasha classes brought “Hamlet” back to the forefront of my mind.
Like many other seminaries and yeshivot, my midrasha participates in the David Project, a seminar program designed to educate high school and post high school students in advocating for the State of Israel’s right to exist. Today our first seminar with the David Project made me think about my friends back home in North America.
Most university students have just started classes. Some of my good friends are older than me, and have just recently started their academic year, for the most part, at secular universities. Many of these institutions are not particularly pro-Israel and, at the moment, I’d even go so far as to call some of these schools—such as York University in Toronto and McMaster University in Hamilton, Ontario—anti-Israel. For the past couple of years, I have sat on the sidelines as a worried friend, hearing all about Israel Apartheid week, listening to the various stories of blatant displays of anti-Semitism on campus.
I have always identified myself as pro-Israel. I firmly believe in Israel’s right to exist as a Jewish state. Sometimes in the past, though, I have internally questioned whether it is in our best interest to actively oppose anti-Zionist activity. I just couldn’t see the point in fighting what I saw as a losing battle. How was I, a teenager, supposed to convince others that a very popular perspective was totally incorrect? Before this year, I was not sure that, if confronted with anti-Israel propaganda, I would take an active part in opposing anti-Israel campaigns.
Being in Israel is a really powerful experience, and merely being here has already changed many of my previous opinions. Walking down the streets of Jerusalem, you can see the diversity of the population, be it through the differing religious beliefs, political opinions or ideological perspectives of Israel’s citizens. It’s incredible that with all of our differences, a strong sense of community still pervades the air. Last Friday morning, I was at Makhane Yehuda (in Jerusalem) with a friend, and one of the shopkeepers overheard us talking about what we still needed to buy for Shabbat. He got involved, showed us where the right stores were and then gave us free fruit and asked where we were going for Shabbat, and if he could be of any help in finding us somewhere to stay.
It feels like everyone has their own place in this jigsaw puzzle of a population. People are able to mobilize at a moment’s notice to help and protect one another in the face of a threat. I feel happy here, I feel like I have somewhere that I belong and, even though I do plan on returning to North America next year, I will always feel like I have a place in Israel.
Which brings me back to Shakespeare. As Claudius states in the quotation cited at the beginning of this post, empty words serve no purpose. Being in Israel has reaffirmed my convictions regarding this incredible country. Although sometimes standing up for Israel may seem to be losing battle, I have come to the conclusion that I would rather have fought for what I believed in and lost, than to have betrayed my personal convictions by not voicing my opinion. So yes, if confronted by anti-Israel propaganda in coming years, I will “take arms against a sea of troubles.” (III. i. 60) Israel is my country, and I will fight for its right to exist.
Eliana Glogauer is currently studying on one of Masa Israel’s 200 programs.
