by Yiftah Leket
I remember when I was 16 years old, we used to go to school on Yom Hazikaron. It was a different kind of day. We used to wear a white shirt, jeans and put on our sad faces (although, back then, I didn’t know anyone who had died). By the time the school ceremony began, the seats in the auditorium were full of soldiers — alumni of the school who came with their uniforms and guns. I remember how we envied them. We also wanted to have that honor. We wanted to come back to school and show off with our uniform. Before we knew it, we were. We arrived proudly to our first Yom Hazikaron ceremony just after our IDF recruitment. More than 20 years later, recalling that situation seems to me like the strangest thing. When I was in the youth movement, we used to create the community ceremony, and as an amateur guitar player, I always took on the role of accompanying another teen singing. The strongest feeling doing those ceremonies was the sense of responsibility, like we had the whole community on our shoulders.
In a different period of my life, I remember how we used to say to each other “Mazal Tov” when someone was recruited to the army. “Mazal tov”? You can say many things to someone who is going to the army, but “congratulations”? I started questioning that gesture only when my little sister was recruited to the army . . .
On the other side of that evening, came Yom Ha’atzmaut (Israel’s independence day) — which for most of my youth years meant going to see the big stages with performances, trying to ditch all the white snow spray people aim at you face, and going to the park the day after to do “Al Haesh” — an Israeli barbeque, sitting in the smoke between a million more barbeques . . .
As weird as these gestures seem, for Israeli’s, they are part of our identity, part of what it means to be an Israeli. This doesn’t mean it’s good or bad, I personally have questions about some of those parts of my identity, but nevertheless, in order to connect to our Israeli identity, this is part of the package.
There is one notion I have been hearing time and time again. That notion is that American Jews don’t feel connected, and historically don’t attend “the Yoms”, or more specifically they don’t feel connected to Yom Ha’zikaron (Israeli Memorial Day) and Yom Ha’atzmaut (Israel Independence Day).
And it’s not only in Detroit, I hear that from my fellow Shlichim as well.
I totally get it. I understand that it’s hard, even somewhat impossible, to connect to something that culturally feels so distant. It’s almost like trying to understand and connect to a ritual made by another species . . .
But at the same time, I also hear, and this is a very loud voice here in Metro Detroit, that people want to be more connected, understand more about Israel, and for Israel to be more deeply rooted in their identities and lives.
For that to happen, I think we need to slightly change the paradigm. The Yoms don’t have to be a commemoration or a celebration of things that happened in Israel. The Yoms can really be about the relationship we, as a vibrant and supportive Jewish community, have with the State of Israel and its people. We want to be with them together in grief and we want to be with them together in celebration. That’s why in the Israel and Overseas Department at Federation, we are building a vision with a new paradigm for the Yoms – “Hearts together”. We come together to soothe the pain of Yom Ha’zikaron and we also dance in circles celebrating Yom Ha’atzmaut.
These significant days are not only about Israel and its people’s story — it’s about our community and the story of being together with Israel over the years. For me, being together doesn’t mean you have to blindly support everything that is happening in Israel. Being together means to me that we can feel a mutual connection and care of Israel, even if we have differences among us.
Yom Hazikaron is not only about remembering and Yom Ha’atzmaut is not only a birthday party. They can be much more. They can be the days we reflect on past and current issues, they can be a platform to go deep with our everlasting search for Tikun Olam, while emphasizing Israel’s role in that Idea. They can be a time to connect to one another, with words or without them. Even more specifically, Yom Hazikaron can be not only a time of remembrance, but also a time for creating a future based on the heritage those who fell have left us to fulfill. Yom Haatzmaut can be the time to search for a better understanding of our connection with Israel, and bringing new notions to how we want our relationship with Israel to evolve.
This year, I want to invite you all, from different corners of the Jewish community of Metro Detroit, to be together, in days of memory and meaning.