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June/July

I’m jotting these notes in Ayanot, a youth village east of Ashdod in Israel. Ayanot brings together teenagers from disadvantaged families for education in academic studies and in living together. One afternoon I watch seniors anxiously preparing for their English exam, while Dror, a Yemenite boy with a lilting tenor voice has a singing lesson with Mischa who’s come from Russia, and while Rachel from Brazil leads other children in gymnastics. In the evening one group of youth, primarily from Ethiopian and Russian families, composes a song for the group while another, through a carefully structured exercise, discovers that the terms of abuse they laughingly use most often are the very ones they find most hurtful when they are the recipients.

Jim Levinson, Sh'liach Tzibur
Jim Levinson, Sh'liach Tzibur, and Rachel Prabhakar, BAJC President
 

Being in Ayanot – originally a training farm for the Halutzot, women pioneers in the 1930s, reminds me – and I need constant reminding – that there’s more to Israel than the checkpoints, the security fence, and the bombings. Of course all of these are an active presence in the lives of each of the Israelis I met, and issues of national security are fiercely debated. (To my surprise, a majority of Peace Now activists now favor the Sharon unilateral withdrawal plan.) Yet life goes on, and in places like Ayanot, it does so with remarkable tenderness and caring. One long time resident of Israel, drawn originally by the nation’s vision of social justice told me that while she feels betrayed by the ultra-orthodox, the ultra-nationalists, the rampant capitalism and the sometimes cruel treatment of Arabs, she loves, as I do, the vibrancy of being in Israel. She feels the same thrill I experience every time she sees an Israeli flag waving, and she feels the deepest connection with the richness of Israeli culture and history. She speaks with passion and deep emotion about Ayanot and the many “Ayanots” throughout the country, about the guides and mentors who have not yet lost the spirit of the Halutzim, and about a still hopeful generation of young people learning from them. (If BAJC is looking for a project in Israel with which to link, we may not need to look any further.)

My Uncle Saul – about whom I wrote last month – who came to Israel from Poland in the 1920s, was an ardent member of the Zionist socialist youth movement Hashomer Hatzair, surely the spiritual ancestors of the idealistic young men and women I saw working at Ayanot. The organization operated not only in Europe and Israel, but also in the United States. One group of Hashomer Hatzair which was active in New York in the 1950s, is having a reunion in Brattleboro in early July, and I have invited them to join us for a service. On Saturday evening July 3 at 6 PM, we will do Havdalah together and then listen to the stories of these most interesting people. We will learn that evening about a rich part of our American Jewish history, and, more generally of Zionist history. It’s likely to be compelling for all of us, including our youth.

B’shalom,

Jim

 

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