Tonight we took the kids to a program put on by the city to celebrate Immigrant Day, or Immigration Day, depending on how you want to translate it. The posters around town were very basic, not much detail. After inquiring with some friends there was recollection of a similar event in the past focused on the Ethiopian aliyah story and history. So I had high hopes for this evening, even as there was a little voice of skepticism on my shoulder.
We arrived and there were people milling around outside the theater enjoying various ethnic cuisine - injira bread with vegetables and lentils, kube, blintzes, and something that I think was Moroccan couscous and veggies. It was meant to be a selection of foods connection to various groups who had immigrated to Israel. It was a nice multi-cultural smorgasbord courtesy of the city council and my tax dollars. As I looked around I saw a lot of Russian/Ukrainian/Former Soviet Union immigrants. I heard a lot of Russian or Ukrainian. I didn't see any Ethiopian citizens. I only heard English when my family was speaking or with our British friend.
It quickly became apparent that this event, celebrating immigration to Israel was targeting a certain constituency. We were invited, but we weren't really all that welcome.
As we entered the theater a video presentation was displayed, highlighting the various countries from where we all came: Romania, Turkey, Morocco, Azerbaijan, Russia, Ukraine, Ethiopia, Yemen, and more that I can't recall. I looked around the room again and still only saw white faces - one or two brown faces of Moroccan or Yemenite immigrants, but no Ethiopian faces at all. My gaze returned to the screen, waiting to see mention of the US or England. But no, no mention at all. We were not there. Our friend was not there. Nor were the South Africans, Australians, Canadians, French, Germans, Spaniards, or any other European community.
Making aliyah is hard, everyone agrees on that. You leave behind your family (probably) to go live in a new climate (most likely) and culture (for certain), to build a new life (absolutely) with a new language (you might know some, but probably not enough). All the time, at least if you came from the US, you are being asked why you are here when wouldn't you rather be there? Even before Trump was elected, the answer was no. I'd much rather be here in Israel. The zest for life, the meaning of everything, the fruits and vegetables and dairy products! Why wouldn't you be here?!
This year has been challenging for sure - I've heaped onto my plate more than enough and then some just to check the edges of the rim. The plate is likely showing stress cracks underneath if we look closely. I've figured out of a bit of why those cracks are showing, at least for me personally.
As an English speaker with a college degree from the US, I am well-spoken, I think deeply, and I write well. In English. As a Hebrew speaker with a graduate degree from Israel, I find myself lacking vocabulary, unable to read confidently, and unable to master high level writing in Hebrew. And of course that is all true. And of course I am a much stronger speaker, listener, reader, and writer than I was 8 years ago when we arrive, and even three months ago at the end of the last semester.
It's still very hard to find myself trying to express myself, take an exam, or complete an assignment and know that from the start I am handicapped significantly. The depth of my intellectual ability is hindered by my linguistic limitations. The doors that seem to be closed, but most likely can be opened if I just understand what is written on them, can be a slap in the face. It is both deeply humbling and frustrating at the same moment.
I can see why so many immigrants who have a chance to go somewhere else quit and leave. It's very hard here on so many levels. And just when you think you've got it figured out, you add something onto your plate, you step out of your comfort zone, and you realize how much more you have to do to reach parity. Parity with where you would have been if you were doing this all in your native language and your native culture.
But we're not, we've chosen to be here. We've chosen the harder path in life because we see that it is more rewarding (and tastier!). That still doesn't make the unintended exclusion at an event for immigrants any less painful or off-putting or downright insulting.
We arrived and there were people milling around outside the theater enjoying various ethnic cuisine - injira bread with vegetables and lentils, kube, blintzes, and something that I think was Moroccan couscous and veggies. It was meant to be a selection of foods connection to various groups who had immigrated to Israel. It was a nice multi-cultural smorgasbord courtesy of the city council and my tax dollars. As I looked around I saw a lot of Russian/Ukrainian/Former Soviet Union immigrants. I heard a lot of Russian or Ukrainian. I didn't see any Ethiopian citizens. I only heard English when my family was speaking or with our British friend.It quickly became apparent that this event, celebrating immigration to Israel was targeting a certain constituency. We were invited, but we weren't really all that welcome.
As we entered the theater a video presentation was displayed, highlighting the various countries from where we all came: Romania, Turkey, Morocco, Azerbaijan, Russia, Ukraine, Ethiopia, Yemen, and more that I can't recall. I looked around the room again and still only saw white faces - one or two brown faces of Moroccan or Yemenite immigrants, but no Ethiopian faces at all. My gaze returned to the screen, waiting to see mention of the US or England. But no, no mention at all. We were not there. Our friend was not there. Nor were the South Africans, Australians, Canadians, French, Germans, Spaniards, or any other European community.
Making aliyah is hard, everyone agrees on that. You leave behind your family (probably) to go live in a new climate (most likely) and culture (for certain), to build a new life (absolutely) with a new language (you might know some, but probably not enough). All the time, at least if you came from the US, you are being asked why you are here when wouldn't you rather be there? Even before Trump was elected, the answer was no. I'd much rather be here in Israel. The zest for life, the meaning of everything, the fruits and vegetables and dairy products! Why wouldn't you be here?!
This year has been challenging for sure - I've heaped onto my plate more than enough and then some just to check the edges of the rim. The plate is likely showing stress cracks underneath if we look closely. I've figured out of a bit of why those cracks are showing, at least for me personally.
As an English speaker with a college degree from the US, I am well-spoken, I think deeply, and I write well. In English. As a Hebrew speaker with a graduate degree from Israel, I find myself lacking vocabulary, unable to read confidently, and unable to master high level writing in Hebrew. And of course that is all true. And of course I am a much stronger speaker, listener, reader, and writer than I was 8 years ago when we arrive, and even three months ago at the end of the last semester.
It's still very hard to find myself trying to express myself, take an exam, or complete an assignment and know that from the start I am handicapped significantly. The depth of my intellectual ability is hindered by my linguistic limitations. The doors that seem to be closed, but most likely can be opened if I just understand what is written on them, can be a slap in the face. It is both deeply humbling and frustrating at the same moment.
I can see why so many immigrants who have a chance to go somewhere else quit and leave. It's very hard here on so many levels. And just when you think you've got it figured out, you add something onto your plate, you step out of your comfort zone, and you realize how much more you have to do to reach parity. Parity with where you would have been if you were doing this all in your native language and your native culture.
But we're not, we've chosen to be here. We've chosen the harder path in life because we see that it is more rewarding (and tastier!). That still doesn't make the unintended exclusion at an event for immigrants any less painful or off-putting or downright insulting.
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