Journalism by Jewish college students, for Jewish college students.
I have become a tourist. I don’t really know when this transformation happened. There I was, going about my business being a typical seminary girl, mentally deriding the people who wandered around the city wearing baseball hats and dragged along overtired, over-stimulated children who would honestly rather hear a bedtime story than yet another tour…
The sun is shining, the birds are singing and the leaves are back to their original color- signs I personally look forward to every year. And no, not just because I’m excited to wear sandals and paint my nails pink- it’s almost Pesach, one of the biggest holidays of the year. I don’t know about…
What can you do in 15 seconds? You can listen to the intro of a song, or take a sip of your soda. You can scan the morning headlines, kiss your loved ones good bye. Or, you could live in Sderot, and in 15 seconds you can watch your whole world fall apart. Sderot is…
I have a confession to make: My name is Arielle Wasserman and I am a doodler. It’s shameful, I know. It started young; you can go and look through my grade one notebooks- all meticulously filed away by my uber-organized mother- and see the proof in the pudding. The once pristine sheets are rendered unrecognizable,…
I’ve known them since I was 10 years old. We’ve gone through everything together- pimples, training bras, hating our parents, loving our parents, hating boys, loving boys (we’re back to hating them, FYI) high school, mean girls – you get my point. We were that group of girls who spent every waking moment together, who…
When I think of summer, I think of home. Not in the spiritual sense of Israel, or even the flesh and blood sense of Toronto. The home I think of is a summer home, and no, that is not as spoiled as it sounds. The home in my head involves 18 cabins, 4 migrashim (fields),…
Last week, I looked out over the old city of Jerusalem, barely paying attention to the view it afforded me. This week, as I sit in a hotel in Lublin, Poland, looking out at the graves of hundreds upon hundreds of Jews, I swear I will never take that image for granted ever again. When…
Sheer panic. That was my first reaction when I saw my seminary schedule. Back in high school—oh so very long ago—my longest class was an hour. And that was endured with several lengthy “bathroom trips.” Now, my shortest class is a grand total of two hours, with the strong recommendation not to leave the class…
Here’s the thing about your year in Israel: You plan for it for a full year, you make lists, you buy clothes (skirts that cover your knees!), you stock up on toiletries, you book your flight and you Facebook-stalk your future roommate. And yet, however prepared you might think you are, nothing can possibly prepare…