Sage
Paquette-Cohen, originally from Boston, MA is a 10-month Internship
Track participant. Throughout her time on Tikkun Olam Sage has been
interning at the Holland House, a therapeutic rehabilitation center for
children with special needs, and volunteering at the Women's Court, an
open space for girls at-risk in Jaffa, as well as Save a Child's Heart
(SACH), an organization which provides heart surgeries for children from
developing countries.
Just
after returning to my normal work schedule following Pesach break, I
noticed Israeli flags lining the either side of the street whilst
waiting at a bus stop in Jaffa. I had been so busy with volunteering and
classes that I had almost forgotten about the approaching holidays: Yom
HaShoah (Holocaust Remembrance Day), Yom Hazikaron (Day of Remembrance
for Fallen Soldiers) and Yom Ha’atzmaut (Israeli Independence Day).
In
the weeks following, we would discuss the meaning behind and the
importance of each holiday as a group. As an American, I was interested
in learning how much U.S. Memorial Day (a holiday that is often
overlooked or rendered insignificant by furniture sales and backyard
barbeques) differs from Yom Hazikaron. The latter is, undoubtedly, a day
that is observed and honored by much of Israeli society. Unfortunately,
because of Israel’s mandatory military service, many people have been
directly affected by the loss of a loved one caused by acts of war and
violence since the country’s inception. To pay respect to those fallen
soldiers, people attend memorial ceremonies, wear white clothing, and
observe a 2-minute siren that sounds nationwide on the evening before
and morning of Yom Hazikaron. Naturally, the day is very somber and I
didn’t feel completely comfortable partaking in many of the day’s
activities as a bystander who has trouble comprehending the kind of pain
that comes with losing a loved one to war.
Aside
from my discomfort at the prospect of attending the day’s events as a
“tourist”, I was also taken aback by the rift that Yom Hazikaron and
Yom Ha’atzmaut create in Israeli society. This became startlingly clear
to me during work on Memorial Day. I intern at the Holland Center, a
daycare and rehabilitation center for disabled toddlers in Jaffa. The
Center employs both Jewish and Arab teachers; this is usually not an
issue, as all of the staff members take their jobs very seriously and
adore the children they care for. The contrast between the two groups,
however, becomes more obvious when religion enters the classroom.
Because the Holland Center is funded by the Tel Aviv Municipality and
is, for all intents and purposes, a preschool, Jewish education is a
part of the classroom “curriculum”. The children learn about approaching
Jewish holidays by way of arts and crafts and song, and Yom Ha’atzmaut
was no different. On the day before Yom Ha’atzmaut (which happens to be
Yom Hazikaron), the Holland Center threw a party complete with Israeli
songs honoring the country’s independence, tiny Israeli flags that were
passed out to each child, and even an Israel-themed cake. It was clear
that this level of Zionism, both its presence in the classroom and the
fact that it was being introduced to a group of two-year olds from a
myriad of different backgrounds, made the teachers uneasy. In the midst
of this celebration, the Memorial siren sounded. One by one, the
teachers stood -- all but two women, both wearing hijabs, and both
looking exceedingly uncomfortable with the situation.
I’ve
thought a lot about that two-minute siren since that day. After
pondering it for a long time and working through a number of emotions, I
can honestly say that this is just one more example of how utterly
confusing and conflicting my life in Israel has been. Although, as a
Jew, I naturally feel more a part of the Jewish-Israeli part of society
here, living in a primarily Arab community through holidays that
celebrate the independence and religious nature of this country has
challenged me in ways that I still haven’t processed fully. It will take
a long time, I think, to understand my stance on the issues that
afflict society here; but I am grateful for the opportunity to ponder
these questions in a critical and tough way.
