The Jewish Federation’s Community Leadership Institute (CLI) is a 15-month program that offers young professionals ages 25-40 a series of monthly skill-building sessions, opportunities to develop and implement social impact projects, receive one-on-one mentorship, and a 10-day trip to Israel. The Israel trip is a highly curated experience designed to encourage CLI participants to set aside their preconceived perspectives and to understand Israel through the eyes of the leaders dedicating their lives to shaping Israel’s future.
Adrian Berger, CLI Real Estate 2016 participant, recently traveled to Israel with nearly 70 peers from the program. Read about his experiences during the trip below.
Once on the plane I knew we were headed to Israel. All around me were Jews. A plane full of Jews with the constant sounds of chatter and conversation. Who are you? Where are you from? What are you doing in Israel? Oh, do you know so-and-so? And the requisite response of stories and views; two Jews and three opinions.
This is kesher; the “connection” obvious when you get a plane full of strangers with an interminable past. All from one place but scattered for so long. Even the steward/stewardesses could care less about a large number of us congregated in the galley loudly talking and getting acquainted. On any other airline this would have been grounds for anger and pestering us back to our seats. Not ELAL. They’re not bothered by any of us because all of us were headed to Eretz Yisrael.
I have been to Israel many times but this trip was unique and special. To have shared this experience with my wife Leore Arik (pictured above), as well as our professional and social peers, while being exposed to so many varied and high caliber individuals, organizations, and experiences, is something I will never forget.
During this extraordinary trip we were able to peel back the layers and reveal the rawness of a still-young nation grappling with so much; being pulled in so many directions with a consistent undercurrent feeling of moral responsibility to resolve it all; to learn, to change, to improve.
To try to capture every moment and put the trip into a semblance of order would be impossible for the thoughts, reflections and perspectives came thick and fast in our packed schedules. What stands out is a myriad of memories and moments that have stuck with me; and many previously unnoticed and unthought-of contrasts.
Our trip started in Jerusalem and, a few days in, by the end of a long Shavuot night, I struggled to feel connected amidst tens of thousands of Kotel pursuers swarming as the sun rose for Shavuot; the closer I got to the wall, the stiffer the shoulders and shockeling of the daveners. Determined to get to a crevice to place my note, I found a space and touched the wall with my hand and head muttering a quick prayer before being squeezed out. It was only as I walked away and found a small space nearby that I stopped to listen to the hum of prayer around me, reverberating in the air. I looked up at the wall and the brightening sky and in that moment I could feel the connection of those around me, their collective prayers rising up. I smiled and closed my eyes. I held the feeling as long as I could, knowing that it was meaningful to be standing in that ancient spot during a High Holiday, surrounded by fellow Jews honoring the Chag (holiday). It was a brief moment quickly lost within the growing, pushing crowd. I forced my way back to our meeting point feeling like the lone salmon swimming upstream battling against suited and hatted Jews with siddurs out in front, eyes transfixed to the wall mumbling prayers, absorbed in their individual journey as I had been on mine.
From The Western Wall to the Gaza wall
We arrived in Nativ Ha’asara and the unease of being a few hundred meters from the separation barrier was palpable. The wall’s presence was unnerving, and we were just temporarily visiting, lunching in the backyard without a care in the world as rocket remnants stood near us on display. The realization of proximity was hard to ignore. We then heard about life under falling rockets, the effect on a mother, her children and their community. The fear and paralysis; the desire to flee but the pride and fortitude to stay, to not be forced away from their homes, their land, their childhood, their slice of Israel. The PTSD that the mother dealt with by creating Path to Peace, a colorful art installation on the walls of the separation barrier with a message of hope that helped calm her nerves, galvanize the town and bring attention to their plight. We each selected a small ceramic shape (I chose a hamsa), wrote our note and attached it to the giant letters on the wall. It was a unique experience to be standing in no man’s land, to see the size of the barrier walls that dwarfed us, and to think about what it must be like on both sides. Locked in and locked out; hate versus hope. Two different walls, two similar notes.
On our way back to Tel Aviv, we stopped in Kiryat Gat to hear the inspirational story of one of the most accomplished people I have met in my life. Moshe, an Ethiopian Jew who, at the age of six, walked 600 miles to Sudan and eventually made it to Israel with his family. After years of theological and secular study, he now practices as a rabbi and has set up a traditional Ethiopian community center to help his fellow Ethiopians feel connected to each other and better absorbed in Israeli life. Under the beating sun he showed us the neat rows of growing green crops planted by his kin. Despite the brutal heat of that afternoon, one could not help but be captivated by his enthusiasm, pride and beaming smile as we sipped strong, scalding Ethiopian coffee and ate traditional bread while hearing his story of redemption, success and struggle.
On our last morning of the trip in Tel Aviv, there was the coming together of Ami and Forsan, an Israeli and a Palestinian/Arab-Israeli who chose to see past their differences and childhood narratives to create an organization that supports and helps entrepreneurs from minority communities achieve personal and business success. I have not had the chance to interact with many Arab-Israelis, so Forsan’s family story gave me pause. I was captivated by his decision to forge a path of unity with Israelis and inspired by his commitment to help bridge the gap between Israelis and Palestinians through business and opportunity.
My thoughts linger back to Jerusalem and Yad Vashem. It is always a moving and difficult day revisiting the visual and narrated catalog of death and genocide. The destruction of so many of our families and the stories of survival told with such terrifying detail. The memories of my childhood and the stories of our family and friends. The seminal theme of their lives–an integral part of mine. I stood a long time at the end overlooking the valleys below thinking about how far we have come as Jews from the Holocaust, yet how the oldest hate against us has steadily resurfaced again.
The deeply sad feelings of Yad Vashem were juxtaposed by Har Herzl and the strength of another set of Jews who have died fighting for and protecting the only safe place of our people. I was struck by the calmness there and serene beauty of rosemary-covered graves of fallen Israeli soldiers. Boris, one of our tour guides, played an Israeli song written for an American Jew who died fighting for Israel. His family and friends could not get to Israel from Texas in time but managed to spread the word for people to attend his funeral. Thirty thousand people showed up to honor his sacrifice. Every one of us counts. I cried at Yad Vashem and I cried again in that moment by the soldier’s grave. There is so much at stake for us. Yad Vashem and Har Herzl. Two sets of Jews gone, none of them forgotten, the importance of them represented and honored forever. An emotional day.
In Tel Aviv we heard more divergent stories and narratives. Eytan Shwartz’s comments about Israeli dichotomy: Bibi telling the world Israel is under existential threat but telling everyone internally he wants to boost tourism. Israel portraying to the world they are a modern high-tech-driven economy, the Start-Up Nation, but still reliant on diaspora Jews to donate and fund many programs. Trying to change their brand but still holding on to the past. Evidence of the short life of this nation under constant change.
For me, these contrasts and dual storylines within Israel were the most compelling and surprising, giving me deeper insight and understanding than ever before.
But, despite the duality, whether a high-tech multimillionaire or a humble Ethiopian Jew; a daughter of a Holocaust survivor’s passion about educating the next generation or a Russian refusenik telling us we must shoulder the burden next; or a tour guide/madrich out to inspire others about the history of Israel, they all had something in common–they were all doing things to better their communities, educate others and to ensure our most ancient tradition of storytelling lives on, where the wide array of Jewish narratives are told and documented for generations to come.
From all that I witnessed and heard, it is clear to me that there is a lot at stake in Israel. Israelis carry a heavy burden, their roles critical to the survival of Israel and the connection of worldwide Jews to our homeland.
I feel privileged to have had the opportunity to delve deeper than ordinary tourists, to connect further with Israel and with my CLI peers. To be amongst so many Jews! To open our minds to new ideas and challenging thoughts; to make us laugh, cry, smile, sigh; be inspired and amazed. To see a completely new perspective through the eyes of those whose lives and challenges are so different from ours. And to do all of that together knowing we can bring it back to L.A.; to a Jewish community that mirrors Israel with a tapestry of traditions and diverse backgrounds.
This trip has left an indelible mark on me. More than ever, we need Israel and Israel needs us.
I am immensely grateful to The Jewish Federation and the CLI program for this opportunity and for the new bonds I have forged as a result along the way. Thank you!
For more information on the Federation’s Community Leadership Institute, visit JewishLA.org/CLI or contact Gamal Palmer at CLI@JewishLA.org.
