As we have noted in many editorials written by the Lion’s Tale editorial board over the years, the mission of the school includes the notion of “Ahavat Yisrael: to form an inextricable bond with the Jewish people—past, present, and future—to foster a sense of commitment to the State of Israel…”

To that end, the Lion’s Tale editorial board has decided to create an Israel page, which we hope will appear in all subsequent issues of the newspaper.

The goal of the Israel page is to educate the school community on a wide range of Israel related issues, in order to create a knowledgable, aware, educated and interested schoolcommnity.

We hope to combine feature articles, news stories, and opinion pieces written by all members of the community on our one page.

This inaugural edition of the Israel page comprises reflections written by students and faculty on the time they spent in Israel over this past summer.

We hope this page grows to become an integral part of The Lion’s Tale and of our community.

Michael Goldfarb, Emma Gorin, Katie Kolben
This past summer, the three of us participated in the Ramah Israel Seminar, a program that brings 16- and 17- year-olds from all seven Camp Ramahs across the country to Israel, for six weeks of touring, learning, and community service.

We made up our minds that we wanted to go on Seminar a year ago, immediately after we had returned from our last summer at our respective Camp Ramahs as campers.

Frankly, the decision was a no-brainer. Of course we would want to spend yet another summer with our closest friends from summer camp. However, our parents were skeptical of us traveling to Israel for a variety of reasons.

The hefty price of the trip, the constant security concerns, as well the fact that we would be traveling to Israel yet again with the senior class less than a year later were all legitimate issues raised by our parents.

Nonetheless, after assuring them that we simply wanted to take advantage of a last summer with our friends, our parents allowed us to go on Seminar and leave for Israel in early July.

Over the course of the summer, the 272 chanichim, or campers, participated in some of the most unforgettable activities.

Whether it was reading Eicha on Tisha B’Av while overlooking Jersualem, or hiking through narrow canyons in the Negev Desert, Seminar allowed us to see Israel in a way that none of us could ever have imagined.
Since returning to the United States, each of us has reached similar conclusions regarding our summer in Israel.

Our expectation had been that Seminar would be a fabulous program where we could spend more time with our precious camp friends, with Israel merely being the setting, or backdrop, in front of which we would continue to bond.

Indeed, we expected it to be “camp in Israel.” Now we realize that Israel was the focus of our trip, the key component that truly made this summer so extraordinary.

Yes, we continued to bond with our friends and become close. But we also learned to love and appreciate the State of Israel, and the brave people who founded it.

To be sure, we probably will see some of the identical sights that we saw this past summer again on our senior Israel trip.

This does not distress us in any way. In fact, since we’ve been home, our yearning to return to Israel has increased significantly.

We’ve learned that it is impossible to travel to Israel too many times, and that each trip is different in some way.It is safe to say that none of us have fully adjusted to being back in America. We each miss the things that are subtle in Israel: the mezuzah on every door, the falafel stand on each corner, or the Hebrew coming out of every person’s mouth.

Soon though, we’ll be in the Holy Land with the senior class.

And one thing is for sure, we can’t wait to go back!

Tamar Rabinowitz
I arrived home in Israel early in the morning, in time to see the sun rise. Stepping out of the plane, I was overcome by the familiar smell of the country. The Tel Aviv humidity clung to me, with promises of a hot day. The taxi driver and I engaged in the typical political banter and questions about the weather. Driving up the foothills of Jerusalem, I tried not to become too emotional but it was hard in the presence of such beauty.

At the same time, I was aware of all the objectives I had set for myself; spend quality time with family and friends, eat lots of cucumbers and tomatoes and pounds and pounds of cottage cheese and learn as much Torah L’Shma as possible.

I knew I had my hands full. What I had not counted on was the difficulty in transitioning from being the teacher to being a student. Every day I would get up at 6:30 to study (the thought “what am I doing?” did run through my mind a number of times).

I found the position of sitting, and not standing as I had grown accustomed, quite maddening in the beginning.

But it wasn’t long before my student persona clicked in and I found sitting listening to lectures, participating in hevrutot, and arguing over mefarshim, exciting and stimulating. To be in Jerusalem, studying with long-time friends and teachers, was a real ta’anug (delight).

Studying was definitely my main activity during that month. However, it would be remiss of me if I did not mention the other side to my being in Israel. That which is not found in the walls of the Bet Midrash, but in the walls of apartments and restaurants, the alleyways of Emek Refaim and the landscape of the Kinneret.

Places where friendships are solidified, identity is challenged and a better sense of self is ultimately developed.

The walls of an apartment in Rechovot are one such place. I have been spending time in Rechovot, where my 92-year-young savta has lived since I was a baby. I am very close to her. I would say she is one of the most awe-inspiring women I have ever met.

She was born in Rechovot under Turkish rule and lived under the British Mandate. Her life is intertwined with the history of the country and I am often surprised to hear who she would “hang out” with in her youth, the same people I read about in history books at school. Her words have been, and continue to be, a guide in my life.

The alleyways of Emek Refaim with its numerous coffee shops are the place where I feel free. There is vibrancy and a sense of life there that is hard to describe.

One of my most poignant memories this trip was at the banks of the Kinneret. There is a graveyard there, filled with heroes from the past – Moshe Hess, Rachel the poetess and now, Naomi Shemer.

The woman who through her music inspired me, moved me, and seemed to speak directly to me about my longings for Israel. I was with a group on our way to Zfat. We stopped by the graveyard to pay our respects. We stood by her fresh grave and sang “Lu Yehi”. Which appropriately ends “Then grant tranquility and also great strength/To all those we love. All that we seek may it be” – a hope for all of us this new year.

Nicola Brodie
This summer I was given the opportunity to travel to Israel with a group of 26 American Jews on the Bronfman Youth Fellowships in Israel program. The goals of the program were to create an ideal pluralistic community, to study Jewish texts with each person bringing his or her own unique perspective to the table, and to challenge yourself and to be challenged in a setting where Israel was very much the backdrop of the experience.

But in addition to all of this intellectually stimulating activity, I also had the opportunity to catch up on my Israeli rap.

Now, when it comes to American rap I’m a firm believer that the “c” is silent. But, Israeli rap is another story entirely.

I have the utmost respect for artists who can curse in English, Hebrew and Spanish, screaming out obscenities and at the same time commenting rather astutely on the Israeli political situation. This year, the favorite song among our group and among the Israelis with whom we spent time was a song by a group called The Dag Nachash (literally The Fish Snake) called “The Sticker Song”.

“The Sticker Song” is a unique venture. The artists took all of the bumper stickers you see posted around Israel and created one cohesive song from them. The song, therefore, comments on the political situation in Israel from all angles and gives you a feel for the political climate and different opinions in the country.

But the two things I like best about this song are the wide range of issues and the unifying chorus. The slogans and stickers highlighted in this song include everything from “the sinners of Oslo to justice,” to “a complete generation demands peace,” to “let the animals live,” to “no fear—Mashiach is in the city,” to “we don’t have children for unnecessary wars” and all sorts of opinions in between.

The fact that Israelis are not unified on every issue and that these bumper stickers exist is not new information. But the fact that all the opinions could be accommodated to fit into one song is oddly comforting.

These rap artists are perhaps paving the way for a pluralistic unification of Israelis. That perhaps we all have different opinions and perhaps they are mutually exclusive, but all can become part of a song.

Nobody has to give up his or her opinion; we just have to be willing to allow the other opinions to be part of our song.