It’s not true what they say, that it’s hard to sum up three years of Shlichut – It’s actually impossible.
I have written numerous pieces for the Israel & Overseas newsletter and for the Jewish News — and I have never had such a hard time as writing this piece. This is literally the fourth time I am writing it, and my stomach is doing somersaults.
This writer’s block is a hint for how we feel as we look back on these three years. You want all of it so much — to know more people, do more programs, see more places, create more experiences. In reality, it’s impossible to achieve, and you are left eager for more.
As Paz, the girls and I start wrapping up our belongings, and our precious memories, it’s more and more clear that our experience is one in a lifetime. The impact on us has been so strong, it almost feels as if we have started our Shlichut right now; we just had three years of the most incredible training, years of growth as a family, as Jews, as Israelis, and as professionals.
We were blessed to be chosen and to choose Detroit as our home for the past three years. The warmth of this place (yes, even in winter!) is something we will cherish for the rest of our lives.
But it’s not a walk in the park, and as simple as it sounds, being yourself and being a Shaliach is sometimes very challenging.
You land in a different country, culture, and community – and from the very first moment you are shaking hands with hundreds of people, you are expected to be friends with everybody, be everywhere, create amazing programs, find your way in the local politics, develop your professional identity, represent a nation and more. You are trying to be yourself, to have a voice, to create change, to make an impact. But also to blend in, be loved, and be welcomed. Sometimes those don’t all go well together.
At the end of the day, the work of the Shaliach is pretty lonely. It’s a little bit like being a Rabbi without a congregation. Truly I have seen myself as a servant of the entire community, which was very special for me.
With all that challenge, being a shaliach is hard to explain in words, and I am pretty sure it’s addictive!
Here are three gifts that make this journey especially worthwhile:
Home – “Home is where you park it,” said the writing on our outdoor mat that we used for our camping trip in the Western US. Good thing we had all the swag in the world (including caps with our names on them!) that showed our home is Michigan to get people’s attention as we wandered the wild west. It takes time to feel at home. When your car runs out of gas on the way to daycare and you need to run 15 minutes back home in deep snow wearing running shoes and sweatpants — that is when you don’t feel at home. You feel at home when you proudly tell a new Israeli in Michigan all that you have learned about firewood and how to set it up. But when a huge branch fell on our house, making a hole in the roof – we found ourselves still “at home” as you opened your doors to shelter us and to always make sure there was a place for us at your Shabbat dinners, holidays, playdates, or just for a one-on-one coffee. We are proud to call Michigan our home. It doesn’t have huge mountains or the highest waterfalls, but that is what makes it so special. My new home is about the small things that life is made of – human relationships and connections.
Family – “Michpacha!” as we shout in camp. You know when you feel like one big family? When you drive for a vacation in Chicago, with a box of silverware that a Jewish mom sent with you to bring to her kid that lives there, and on the same night, you bump into one of your closest friends from Detroit at a random restaurant in downtown Chicago! That is when you start feeling like one big family.
In these three years we have learned to see and feel what it is to really have an extended family. Being part of a community that feels like family is something we don’t often feel in Israel.
Meaning – This community is one of the most vibrant communities in the world! (trust me on this one). People work, volunteer, give, teach, connect, go to Israel and more. The river is flowing so strongly in Metro Detroit that sometimes it’s actually hard to ride it. But once you get the hang of it — it’s magical! I remember those holiday weekends, like Purim, where I was hopping between celebrations all across the “Metro”, and driving home with a sense of community and connection like never before. Where else would I go to so many places and feel I have a meaningful place?
Besides, there are some damn good professionals in this town, and working alongside them has taught me many things.
Sometimes people ask me what I am most proud of with my Shlichut. It’s hard to say, as this role has a very holistic character. It’s almost like asking what I like most about who I am. But from an educator’s perspective, I am proud to be part of the change in the discourse around Israel. We have been working hard to widen the tent, bring people together, create spaces to listen and share and explore diversity and narratives. Not only to talk about nuanced conversations but to really have them. And at the end of the day, acknowledging the idea that introspection, looking within ourselves, is the most powerful tool to repair the world.
One of my mentors in the field of education taught me that “An educator doesn’t get to cut the ribbon.” Over the years I have learned to love this path. A path that is not about me. It’s about the path itself and about how small changes create big impacts in people’s lives. With that, I would like to wish my successor, Lior Zisser-Yogev, and her family to have the journey of a lifetime, at least as much as we did, to continue some parts of the path, and to change and create new ones as well.
This community is special, and it’s our home now.
You will always have a place in my heart, and you always have a place at our home.
We would love to invite you to our farewell party for a last hug. Here is the link for information and registration.
Yours,
Yiftah