2001 - United Synagogue Youth

ShalhevetShalhevetzadlyThe Creative Arts Magazine of USYA Publication of the Department of Youth ActivitiesThe United Synagogue of Conservative Judaism12001

Dear USYers,Letter From The EditorShalhevetWhile reading so many of our members’ submissions, memories came flooding back of wonderfultimes spent in USY. Each of your stories and artwork have helped me recall the special eventsthat took place in my region and while I was on Wheels and Pilgrimage. Being in USY can completelychange the way you think, the way you practice being Jewish, the way you live your life. Your beautifulcontributions reflect who you are and I hope that in reading this issue of Shalhevet you too rememberall the good times, so that what you have experienced can stay with you forever.Shalhevet would not be if it was not for the contributions of your fellow USYers. Thank you foryour amazing work and creativity; because of you, this year’s Shalhevet is the largest edition ever!Many thanks to Hirsch Fishman and Rob Spiro for their hard work and for assisting me in puttingtogether this unique magazine. To the next Editor, if you are passionate about this magazine, I promisethat you will make it something to be proud of. I know I am. And lastly, thank you to the ExecutiveBoard for electing me as your Jewish Culture Chair; I will be forever grateful. As of January, I will nolonger hold this position, but there will be someone elected in the coming month. If you would like tosubmit something to Shalhevet for next year’s edition be sure to contact the 2002 Jewish CultureChair.Perhaps you know of a USYer who wasn’t able to come to International Convention but wouldlike a copy of this magazine. Tell him or her to request one on-line by going to:http://www.usy.org/shalhevetFor any questions or comments about the 5th Edition of Shalhevet, please feel free to e-mailme at SilverFaze@aol.com.With that said, it is time for me to say good-bye and let you read and see the amazing work ofyour fellow USYers.B’ahava,Jackie Topol2001 Jewish Culture ChairShalhevet Editor2

ShalhevetTable Of ContentsCOVER:Photo by Jackie TopolISRAEL 5A Day of Hope, A Day of Tears - by Yael Hammerman 6Make Israel Your Classroom - by Mara Berde 7Photo by Rina Goldberg 7Letting Optimism Win Every Battle - by Yael Hammerman 8Photo by Philip Weintraub 8Exit Wounds - by Alex Helfand 9The Strength and Spirit of Israel - by Isaac Wolf 10Exchange - And Change - by Jason Goldman 12Photo by Dawn Levine 12Masada - by Seth Wainer 13Photo by Seth Wainer 13PILGRIMAGE 14One Particular Day by Ilene Silverberg 15Photo by Jackie Topol 15What a Day - by Gayle Abrahams 16Photo by Avi Buchbinder 16The Land - by David Dubin 17Shabbat on Pilgrimage - by Judy Greenberg 18Photo by Josh Rudawitz 18WHEELS 19Havdalah on the Beach - by Ariella Gutin 20With Love to Bus A 2001... - by Missy Kimmelman 21Wheels - by Rachel Kaplan 22Photo by Jackie Topol 223

ShalhevetHOLOCAUST 23Life and Death in Auschwitz - by Janna Hoffman 24A Bright Dark Day - Anonymous 25You in Me - by Tali Kweller 26Photo by Dan Roffman 26My Journey - by Lindsay Sherrin 27Photo by Rina Goldberg 27My Poland Experience - by Melissa Raphael 28Photo by Dan Roffman 28Written in Treblinka - by Tarah J. Hyatt 29JEWISH IDENTITY 30Finding Myself - by Erika Nehrbass 31Photo by Jackie Topol 31Just Be A Jew - by David Corman 32Keep Your Eyes Open - by Elissa Stecker 33More Pressing Concerns - by Josh Kipnees 34Photo by Josh Rudawitz 34The Mitzvah of Happiness - by Anna Hutt 36Drawing by Tarah J. Hyatt 36Jewish Identity - by Melissa Cohenson 38Decisions - by Steven Leibowitz 39Artwork by Jackie Topol 38Being Jewish in Pleasantville - by Rebecca Markovitch 40Photo/Essay Contest Winners 411st Place: Jewish Eyes - by Rebecca Siegel 422nd Place: Thoughts - by Alyssa Zaleon 434

ShalhevetIsrael“Though I stood still,I was moved by beauty.”5

ShalhevetNo matter where I am, no matter whom Iam with, Israel always finds a way to creep into mythoughts.I spent November 1st, 2000 on Ellis Island.Not only was November 1st the day chosen formy school’s North American History field trip, butit was also the daychosen by Jewish leadersworldwide onwhich to show solidaritywith Israel. At 6p.m. Israel time, Jewsaround the worldstopped, stood still,prayed, and united.November 1st,2000 was a memorableday for me. Forstarters, I was able tospend hours of a publicschool funded tripnosing around for Judaic artifacts. I discoveredtalit bags and tefillin from the Old Country, as wellas old siddurim and humashim. At 11 a.m. I examineda yellowed book which was open to a pageof Tehilim, or Psalms. I stood in silence, absorbingthe atmosphere of my surroundings. I saw theStatue of Liberty out the window. I heard thevoices of young children speaking an array of languages.I thought about the immigrant who hadowned that book of Tehilim, and about the thousandsof Jews who had passed through the veryspot on which I stood, in search of a better life,and without persecution.As the trip came to an end, my friendZainab, a religious Muslim, and I boarded the ferryA Day of Hope, A Day of Tearsby Yael Hammermanto return to New Jersey. Zainab and I becameengrossed in a conversation about our personalhopes and plans for the future. When I broughtup my dream of moving to Israel and becomingactive in the Masorti movement, the Israeli versionof the Conservative movement, Zainabthought quietly to herself, and then asked me if Iever thoughthow ironic itwas that wewere suchclose friendshere inAmerica, whileif we were livingin Israel, wewouldn’t talk toeach otherwithout hate inour voices. Itruthfully toldher yes andthat I think about that all the time. I asked her ifshe was ever bothered about the events in theMiddle East, and if they plagued her emotions, likethey do mine. She truthfully told me yes, she thinksabout it all the time too.Ellis Island.Ellis Island, the Island of Hope, the Islandof Tears. Tears welled up in my eyes on November1st, knowing that I had to offer a prayer toGod for the safety of the land of Israel. Hopeswelled in my heart on November 1st knowingthat I could discuss our own destinies, as well asthe destinies of our brothers and sisters, with aMuslim friend.6

ShalhevetDespite popular belief, USY High is not asimple tour around the wonderful “Land of Milkand Honey.” It was an intensive, two-month learningexperience where I learned more about Israeland Judaism than I have in the last 12 years ofattending Hebrew and Sunday school. Imaginewaking up at 3:30a.m. and arriving atthe base of Masada inthe pitch dark. It wasa scary and strenuoushike to the top,but we were toldthat it would beworth it when wesaw the “magnificentsunrise.” Of course,since nothing evergoes as expected, wereached the top onlyto realize that the skywas completely coveredin clouds andthat there would beno “magnificent sunrise.” But, the day got brighteras we davened Shacharit, until it began to rain. Iguess the worst was over though, because just aswe were eating breakfast, the rain subsided andout came a beautiful rainbow. This was not just anordinary, everyday rainbow. This was right aboveour heads, and stretched over the entire gray sky,spanning the entire 180 degrees. That one rainbowmade my entire day complete. It was betterthan the sunrise - it was a symbol that representedMake Israel Your Classroomby Mara BerdeSunrise over the Dead Sea from Masada -Photo by Rina Goldberg.our group. We were not an ordinary Pilgrimagegroup. We saw something better - the one rainbowthat none of us will ever forget.This trip does not sound like an intensivetwo-month learning experience that it was supposedto be. But it actually was, and so much more.Not only did we hikeMasada, but we spent 5hours atop the ancientfortress, learning thestories of the SiccarriZealots who lived there.Lead by Elazar Ben Yair,a 17-year old freedomfighter, the Zealotsfought for Jewish honorand pride against theRomans in the GreatRevolt between 66-70C.E. Using Israel andwonderful historicalsites as our classroom,we traveled all over Israelfor 2 months, learningthe history of the land and of our people. Beingatop Masada, the actual place where the SiccarriZealots fought the Romans, made the story cometo life.I challenge you to go to Israel, not only tovisit, but to learn. Take your schoolwork to Israeland make it your classroom. Don’t just be a tourist,be a student. Masada was the most amazing,memorable, and meaningful experience, and thatwas only one day. We still had two more months.7

ShalhevetLetting Optimism Win Every Battleby Yael HammermanThe unforgiving combination of jet lag and the warbling birds of Jerusalem awoke me at 5:24 ona Wednesday in mid-July. These unlikely allies worked together on that memorable summer morningand ended my sleep before daylight had a chance to stream into my bedroom.Since the city’s ever-present birds and my confused internal clock had stolen me from myprecious sleep, I had no reason to remain in bed. I foundmy way through my family’s apartment until I reached ourporch. As I struggled to open the creaky, dilapidated slidingdoors, my motor skills still hampered by slumber, my visionbegan to come into focus, and before me lay the hills of theJudean desert in all their glory. I could no longer be angryat the singing birds; I now thanked the jet lag, for it wastheir only seemingly cruel alliance that gave me the opportunityto witness the sun rise on my first morning in Israel.I watched for movement above me and for life belowme. I watched for change in the tapestry, the pinks andoranges of the sky, and for the rising of the sun. Though Istood still, I was moved by beauty. And suddenly, pushingits way into the world like a newborn baby, the sun beganto climb to its rightful throne in the sky. This fiery ballknew its place and its purpose, and though it struggled onits path, I witnessed it arrive, and hold court of its kingdom,as its light shone down and declared the new day.Photo by Philip Weintraub.As I stood overlooking the Dead Sea, clear and unmistakable in the distance, I knew thesummer would be a brilliant one, as long as my eyes were open, my ears were alert, and I allowed theearly morning whistling of birds to direct my days. As the summer progressed, the ever-present suncontinued to rise and shine. Blessed by its warmth, activity filled my days, as I visited, studied, and spenthours with many of the humble and soft-spoken heroes of the land. I spent time learning from Tova,who provides a hot meal to poor members of her Persian community every Wednesday morning. Imet with Shmuel Munk, who runs Bayit Cham, a cozy house for the mentally disabled. I volunteeredwith the Rabbanit Kapach, who runs a day camp, distributes thousands of dollars worth of food, runsa clothing warehouse, coordinates weddings, as well as organizes dozens of other projects for theunderprivileged. I visited Anita Shkedi, an expert on therapeutic horseback riding. I taught otherteenagers about Hadassah Levi, who rescued and raised many babies with Downs Syndrome.I noticed how these remarkable individuals took the problems of the world and pushed themout of their way with deeds of valor. With the strength and determination of the morning sun, theyfound their own place in the universe from which they could provide light and warmth. While violentundertones of black, grey, and red tried to color my summer, I forced myself to see the yellows,oranges, and pinks that these heroes shed onto the earth by celebrating, living, and learning with them.8

ShalhevetContinued from previous page:Though terror plagued Israel during those months, my optimism won every battle. I sought out thegood, observed the bright, and tried passionately to understand. While the world feared, I was determinedto live.Lamentably, all good things must come to an end. As I left for the airport in the middle of thenight, the streetlights of Jerusalem blanketed its hilltops. Like candles lit for a memorial service, theselights flickered over the holy city, mourning the deaths which haunt the land, a symbol of sadness whichpervades its homes. I could hear in the silence the prayer of mothers, the tears of sons, and the voicesof angels.As I left the mournful lights behind, I pictured the faces of those humble heroes who hadbrightened my world. Remembering their determination, gentleness, and strength, the night began tofade. Though the sun had not yet begun to rise, I was assured that the cycle would continue, thatsilence would be broken, and goodness would exist. Another young woman would soon be awakenedby jet lag and warbling birds, and she too would find her way to her own porch to witness the sun’sdeclaration of a new and brighter day.Exit Woundsby Alex HelfandFlying home and reaching solid groundOn the west side of the Ocean,A profound feeling of sadnessInvades my soul and forces itTo reevaluate the essence of existence.Returning from a journey that now seems long gone,I have completed one journey yet found another path.And while waiting to make the voyage to that placeIn a different light, I wonder how not to forget that experience.What it is about that faraway land that cannot be expressed,For awareness of its magic cannot exist from afar.Living and breathing there, it seemed so close,And yet it is now a pervasive memory, too distant to rememberEvery detail and every thought, but so close to my heartThat this place is imprinted upon my inner spirit.The road is long and the depths are deep, but what have I to keep,For finding the road is not so important as lighting its direction.9

ShalhevetContinued from previous page:The fact that there was half a field around her empty, which would inevitably be filled, haunted me.This moment took the abstract ideological debates from the past week and transformed them intosomething tangible, something real. How could Israel live, day after day, knowing that it filled HarHerzl? How could a mother survive, knowing the risks her child would face? How could someonechoose to live in a nation where one third of their income goes directly to fund the military? Yesterday,these questions haunted Israel. Yesterday was Yom Hazikaron, Israel’s Remembrance Day. Yesterday,parents, children, widows, and friends gathered at graves to remember their loved ones, fallen whileerecting the State of Israel. Yesterday, the whole nation stood silent, painfully remembering the costfor which their dream of a Jewish state lives, as a siren sounded across the nation. Today, a siren alsosounded. Today a horn blasted across the Jewish homeland, celebrating Israel’s Independence Day.Today Israel stands, proud of the nation it has erected and the advances it has made. Yesterday wewept, today we stand proud. Israel’s Independence Day celebrates our homeland’s triumph against thesteepest of odds. On its Independence Day, Israel holds its head high, but not too high. Israel cannever forget the countless pioneers who sacrificed their lives so that Theodore Herzl’s dream couldtriumph. “If you will it, it is no dream,” he would say. It is this iron will - this fervent love of Zionism -that gives Israel the strength to continue to persevere and survive amid such uncompromising enemies.Today we celebrate how this iron will Herzl has instilled in us had made us triumph, but it isexactly this same uncompromising iron will which has caused so many of our brethren to fall. AmYisrael Chai.The menorah outside the Knesset in Jerusalem.11

ShalhevetExchange - And Changeby Jason GoldmanEarlier in the year, I participated in anexchange program with a high school in TelAviv, through my own school. There were 21Israelis who spent three months living with 21Jewish Americans in Los Angeles and went toschool with us. Later in the year, we switched,and the Americans spent three months in TelAviv. There are a lot of things dizzying aboutIsrael - but Israeli politics is probably the singlemost confusing aspect of Israeli society. Onecan enjoy vivid political discussions over thedinner table, in class at Tichon Chadash, or onthe bus on the way home from this Tel Avivschool.Months ago, before our trip, we werePhoto by Dawn Levine.given a sort of pop-quiz. “What is Pan-Arabism?”; “Who was just elected Prime Ministerof Israel?”; “More importantly, why did he win?”. Well, we all knew that Ariel Sharon was our PrimeMinister. But we had no idea about anything besides that. As we learned more about Israeli politics, weonly became more confused.One Thursday afternoon in mid-May, I was sitting at home, in Tel Aviv, watching CNN. Secretaryof State Colin Powell had a press conference regarding the Mitchell Report. Things that keptbeing referred to made no sense to me. So I called my friend who is my permanent source ofknowledge on all things related to Israel. He provided me with a clear, concise explanation of everythingthat had been going on. Soon after this, my understanding of Israel’s politics changed, as well asmy understanding of the way that our country’s politics and Israel’s politics are all inter-related.In early March, we went on a trip through the Golan Heights, and we fell in love with the area.I enjoy saying that the place has an “eerie beauty” - it is by far the most beautiful part of Israel - and itplayed host to some of its bloodiest scenes. I was rather troubled when we were told that eventually,the Golan Heights would probably be given up. We’ve all heard the three reasons why the GolanHeights should not be given up. First, its strategic importance. From the top of Manara, looking downat Kiryat Shemona, we experienced this first-hand. Second, its water. Third, its wine. Now I’m notspeaking from personal experience, but I’ve heard its real good.Then you’ve got Jerusalem. Our holy city. We pray three times a day facing Jerusalem. It is inour prayers. Even after we eat, we pray for the speedy rebuilding of Jerusalem. The big questionrecently is about the possibility of a divided Jerusalem. Somehow, the hope is that division would bringabout peace. I’m not sure how this would work, seeing how even the very name of Jerusalem -“Yerushalayim” - comes from the words “Ir,” city, and “Shalom,” peace. A city of peace is not divided.So how is it that these two regions, Ramat HaGolan and Yerushalayim, are related? Well, if the12

ShalhevetContinued from previous page:Jewish people will eventually (albeit reluctantly) divide Jerusalem - the holy of holies, a city amongcities, how could it hold on more closely to the Golan Heights? Somehow, the logical decision ofkeeping the Golan Heights takes a backseat to the emotional connection to Yerushalayim, Ir Hakodesh.There is one more thing which was essential to my understanding of Israeli politics. I havebeen asked, on numerous occasions, about the other social problems that Israel is facing - people sortof assume that they’re the same as the questions facing modern politicians here: drugs, abortion, gayrights,etc. The truth is that these issues are also important in Israel. However, 87 years ago, theseissues were not being discussed in the U.S. Rather, the American people needed a President who couldfight a World War for them. The same goes for Israel. It is not that they do not care whether acandidate for Prime Minister is pro-life or pro-choice - but there are priorities. They would ratherknow what his views are on the right of return, Jerusalem, and dealing with terrorists. I wait in eageranticipation of the day when politicians in Israel will be debating abortion and drug-control - becausethat will mean that Israel will have overcome some of her greatest problems.Inevitably, whenever teenagers return from Israel and are asked to describe their favorite place,many of them say Massada. In my opinion, we say this in part because it is true, but also becauseof what it represents. On Poland/Israel Pilgrimage ’01 (yay us), we were woken at 3 in themorning to hike up a huge mountain that I could hardly see, let alone climb. That mountain, forme and many of us, stood for Israel; it stood for the beauty that we saw everyday but were maybetoo naive to see. Sunrises and sunsets in Israel are the most awesome images in the world; thissunset in particular was merely the only one i woke up at 3 o’clock to see. Israel is filled withholiness from the Golan down to the Negev, I’m just glad someone was willing to get me out ofbed to see it. -Seth Wainer13

PilgrimageShalhevet14“I havea special placein my heart fromeach place I visitedand I continue tohold those memoriesclose to my heart.”

ShalhevetIsrael is a wonderful country. I had theopportunity to go on Israel Pilgrimage/Poland Seminarthis past summer and spend 5 amazing weeksin Israel. Although the situation over there waskind of sketchy, the experience was that muchgreater. One day in particular stands out in mymind. The day started with wake up at 3 a.m. byour staff yelling in theBedouin tents for ustired 34 teenagers to getmoving. We ate a smallbreakfast and boardedthe bus to race the Britishtour group to the topof Masada. It is the mostbeautiful site to watchthe sun rise over theDead Sea. We thendavened in the templeremains overlooking themountainous view. Thatmorning was priceless,like one of thoseMasterCard commercials. We then hiked downthe snake path. I thought that there was somekind of scientific law stating that the way up isalways harder than the way down, but boy was Iwrong. After we caught our breath, we hoppedon the bus to go play in the waterfalls of Ein Gedi- an oasis with Amazon-like scenery. To me it isOne Particular Dayby Ilene Silverbergthe most unique spot in Israel. We left soakingwet from the waterfalls and boarded our bus tothe last tourist spot for the day, the Dead Sea. Ipictured the Dead Sea with a bunch of mud pitseverywhere to wrestle in, but I was wrong. Inorder to get the full effect, you have to pay 10shekels ($2.50) for a bottle of mud. I decided tojust swim, or ratherfloat, without the mud.The water felt morelike oil and my immediatereaction when Igot out of the waterwas to run over to ashower and rinse off,because the salt wasextremely agitating.But it was a lot of funand definitely somethingI will rememberas a unique experience,unlike myweekly Florida beachtrips. The long day finally ended with an hour orso bus ride to Mitzpe Ramon where our groupwas to spend our Shabbat in the South. It wasnice to end such a great day with the beginning ofShabbat. To me, the longest day of our trip wasalso one of the greatest.Photo by Jackie Topol.15

ShalhevetWhat A Dayby Gayle AbrahamsThe night was quiet, full of stars. Insidethe bunks, the girls curled up in their blankets,trying to keep their eyes open.“What a day,” whispered Talya.She was right. It had been quite a day.Nothing like any of them had ever experiencedbefore. That morning, Group 5 had arrived at theTzahal training base, where they would spend thenext week learning about the Israeli army, not byhearing about it, but by living it through a programcalled Gadna. They were put in a group of17 girls and were under the leadership ofPhoto by Avi Buchbinder.“Hamefaked Aran” (Commander Aran). The mostunflattering uniforms available were to be wornfor the duration of their stay, along with heavy, dirty canteens and olive fisherman hats, which theywere sternly warned to return at the end of the five days.The day had been full of introduction to Gadna, as Hamefaked Aran taught them how to standin a chet, the shape of the Hebrew letter, which looked very much like a square missing its fourth side.Around 10 p.m. the commanders had gathered everyone at the base together for a 6 kilometer runoutside the gates; it was unexpectedly cut short by a “suspect car” detected up ahead.“You know, I bet there really wasn’t any suspect car up there,” Naomi pondered. “It was justtheir excuse to make us run!”However, the run was not nearly as rough as what had preceded it - the food. The meal planfor the week was a choice among the infamous Israeli salad of cucumbers and bruised tomatos, “Tunain a Tube,” corn, or the staple food - bread and chocolate spread. The water was contaminated,without a doubt, and sometimes they would get stuck with the tapioca flavor spread, but they werecompensated later that night with the introduction of the heavenly pop rocks chocolate bar.The girls lay in their beds, each holding a piece of the chocolate bar in her hands. They listenedto the sounds of the night, accompanied by the crackling of the pop rocks in their mouths. It wasamazing how an area full of hundreds of teenagers could sustain such silence.Three of the girls got up and ran to the door, as Hamefaked Aran walked by on his night patrol.“I’m not your friend, I’m your commander!” was his favorite phrase, but they knew he loved them,even after only one day. The girls had already forced him to crack a smile earlier that day when theyjust couldn’t seem to form a chet after numerous attempts. The rule was that they had to stay in thecabins after curfew and not talk at all, but they couldn’t help getting excited whenever the opportunityarose to break an army rule!Hamefaked Aran heard the giggling behind the door, and his footsteps neared the entrance.Talya scrambled onto her top bunk and Gayle and Naomi jumped into their beds. All three had to digtheir faces into their pillows in order to restrain their laughter.16

ShalhevetContinued from previous page:It went on like that for the next four days. The three girls wore themselves out during the daywith the rest of the girls in Platoon 3, Team 4. They learned about the different types of soldiers, thecorrect way to sneak around a battleground, and even how to clean dishes in the army’s kitchen. Theyeven built up the nerve to sample the “Tuna in a Tube” (which was not a good experience). But everynight, as tired as they were, the girls would come back to their bunk and huddle around their beds,listening to the crackle of the pop rocks among the silence of the army base, attempting to outsmartHamefaked Aran.“What a day,” Talya said, every night. She was right. It had been quite a day, every day.The Landby David DubinIsrael how I love thee,For you are the mighty key.The key for everlasting peace,So that all wars my forever cease.The beauty of your land is unsurpassed,Nothing like one’s limb after the removal of a cast.You sparkle in the light,You shine during the night.Israel you are truly great,Though I worry about all the hate.Which causes me to feel great fear,And engenders countless people to tear.The land shall know no trouble,Let our homeland not fumble.For all in the world will see,That you are not a small flea.When one kisses your ground,Oh what a marvelous sound,Is heard in that person’s ears,A cacophony of spiritually charged cheers.You are earnestly more than just sand,For you are the land,Of flowing milk and honey,That will always be loved by me.17

ShalhevetThis summer I went with thirty-four otherUSYers to Israel. Being in Israel meant more to usthan the average tourist. Before arriving in TelAviv, we spent a week in Poland. We saw five concentrationand death camps. We visited the WarsawGhetto memorial. We learned about the flourishingJewish communityin pre-war Poland,and saw its feeble attemptsat revival now.After that emotionallytrying week, we couldnot have been moreready to arrive inEretz Yisrael. Thefreedom and immediatesense of belongingwe all felt upon arrivalwas overwhelming. Afew hours after beingyelled at in Polish forsinging in the airportterminal, all thirty-fourof us were dancing, singing, crying, and kissing eachother and the ground in a place that symbolizeslife and rebirth to so many. After witnessing ourpeople’s struggles in Poland, we lived many peoples’dreams who never even lived to see Israel’s birth.Everyday we woke up in Israel, we were thankfulnot to have the shadow one wakes up with in Poland.In Israel you belong.Most of my group had never been to IsraelShabbat on Pilgrimageby Judy Greenbergbefore, and as we gathered on the steps of ouryouth hostel on our first Friday afternoon inJerusalem, voices stopped at the sound of a siren.It was the siren that announces the eighteen minutesbefore Shabbat comes each week. It did notalarm us like an emergency bell, but it slowly,peacefully called to us.Our voices faded and welistened silently. It felt likethe whole world was listening,and slowing downas Shabbat came. ThatShabbat came and went,with a calm feeling ofsubtle celebration behindeverything we did. It wasa wonderful feeling to bein a place where peopleare so much like me.Kabbalat ShabbatPhoto by Josh Rudawitz.prayers held a new meaningfor me as we welcomedour Shabbat inthe North. The evening before, I had heard MuslimSabbath prayers broadcast over the same hillwhere we were standing. I felt a kinship with thesereligious Muslims, often seen as so different fromus. Both Sabbath prayers were beautiful to hearand feel.Shabbat in Israel is an indescribable experience.I feel privileged to have been able to bethere. I hope to return soon.18

ShalhevetWheels“We had become somethingeven more special and amazing -we had become a family.”19

ShalhevetHavdalah on the Beachby Ariella GutinWe all stood in a circle on thebeach in San Diego, California, all 52 ofus. We had our arms around each otherand could feel the ocean breeze allaround us. We felt the sand betweenour toes and heard the crashing of thewaves in the distance. And we had a lightcoming from within the circle that illuminatedeach person’s face.This beautiful, glowing light wasnot only the holy flame of the Havdalahservice, but to each of us it representeda whole lot more. It represented thespecial and long lasting friendships thatwe had made over the past 3 weeks. Itrepresented the funny moments andlaughter that we had experienced over the pastfew weeks during our adventure across the UnitedStates. It represented the long lasting memorieswe had made, and the more memories that wereto come along our way. It represented us as Jewsbonding together and learning more about Judaismfrom each other every single day. It also representedthe times of seriousness and Jewish learningwe had just begun to experience over the pastfew weeks.But more importantly, the Havdalah servicerepresented us. Now we were no longer abunch of crazy teenagers who decided to spendthe summer traveling for six weeks across theUnited States in a Coach USA bus, and we wereno longer a bunch of plain old Wheelniks. We hadbecome something even more special and amazing- we had become a family.Before we began to recite Havdalah, wereceived a small pep talk from our Rosh. He talkedabout this being our middle point along the amazingjourney that we had only just begun to experiencetogether. He went on to talk about the thingswe had accomplished during our first three weekstogether, and about even more exciting things tocome along in our journey. But more importantly,he spoke about us. He spoke about the changeshe had noticed within the bus as a whole. Wewere all becoming one, day by day.After he finished speaking, we began torecite the Havdalah service. As we were singing, acouple of us began to cry as we looked aroundthe circle at each other, because there were onlythree weeks remaining to our journey. Othershad big smiles across their faces, knowing that ourjourney had only just begun. But no matter whatwe were feeling, we all felt the same exact thing.We all knew right then and there how close of afamily we had become, not only at that momentstanding on the beach, but by the closeness wehad experienced over that short period of time.And some how, we also knew that the Bus E familywe had made during those past 3 weeks wouldlast a lifetime and would stay in our hearts forever.20

ShalhevetWith Love to Bus A 2001...by Missy KimmelmanI always thought that the summer after my sophomore year in high school I would be going toIsrael. Like many parents, mine were uncomfortable with sending me this year. Instead they sent me onWheels.Being part of Bus A 2001 was an amazing experience and one I will never forget. Looking at my65 page scrapbook or my two overflowing photo albums will never make me feel as happy as I was onthe bus. Waking up two hours into quiet time and seeing mostly everyone sleeping made me see justhow lucky I was to be on one of the 8 buses this summer. It was times like those that I wrote notesto myself.I made lists of everything: bus songs, movies we watched, jellybean combinations, everything -but the most important piece of paper is one I started on a long drive one morning early in thesummer. I called “What I learned on Wheels.” This list is one I look at and try to live my life byeveryday.This is one of the most private pieces of my summer, but there is no other way to show howimportant Wheels is and will always be to me without this list:On Wheels, I learned......be yourself at all times....disappointment comes and goes, it does no good to let it linger....choose your battles correctly....take time to notice the little things, that’s what you will remember forever....don’t be afraid of anything, especially new things, new people, and new places....don’t let the past affect friendships in the present or the future....great friends make great pillows....give me a pair of sweats, and I’ll give you a smile....no matter how well you know yourself, there are always surprises....without even knowing it, you can mean the world to someone....true friends last forever....don’t sleep when you can talk the night away....you never know how you will impress someone, or how they will impress you....something can seem like a dream and you won’t know what you have till its gone!Some of these things are simple lessons for you to learn, and others you may have neverthought of, but each of them was right at the time that I wrote them. Without USY on Wheels I wouldnot be the same. A summer like this changes your life. It’s not all about the humidity of the South, theprayers at rest stops, or eating kosher in Nebraska. It’s about the long bus rides where everyone hadfun, the tears the last day, the group e-mails that follow you home, and learning something new aboutyour religion, but more importantly about yourself.21

ShalhevetWheelsby Rachael KaplanA very special bear who lived in the HundredAcre Woods once said, “We will be friends untilforever, just you wait and see.” Nothing betterdescribes a friend that is made on USY on Wheels.Although I participated in this incredible programlast summer, I still wanted to take the opportunityto share the experience. There is not a single daythat goes by that I don’t wish I could be back thereand relive even a single hour over again, because Iknow that there is nothing in the world that willeven come close to the 6 1/2 weeks I spent withsome of the most incredible people ever.USY on Wheels is a trip across the country,beginning in New York and traveling in a circle aroundPhoto by Jackie Topol.the United States for 6 1/2 weeks. You travel on abus with 47 other teenagers, 5 staff, and a bus driver.It is probably also one of the only trips where you will find out what it is like to be a Conservative Jewand be traveling across the country with other Jewish teenagers. You experience Shabbat in sixdifferent cities, participate in rousing ruach sessions, meet kids from all over the United States, and seethe major sights of the country. On top of the amazing places you explore, you also bond with thepeople on your bus and form long-lasting friendships. It has now been over a year since I came homefrom USY on Wheels, and in a lot of cases it has been over a year since I’ve seen some of my closestfriends. Our lives find us increasingly busy, and there is only so much time to pick up a phone and callpeople. But what I have found is that even though a month or two will go by between times that I talkto some of my friends, when we have the opportunity to talk we can talk for hours and feel as thoughno time has gone by.I am grateful for my experience on Wheels. It was one of the best things that has everhappened to me and there are no words that could possibly describe the fabulous experience andhow much I yearn to be reunited with my bus and my friends. Despite the distance between us, ourhearts remain linked forever. I can go on and on, writing volumes of stories. Stories of ten of us pilinginto one seat and having long, deep conversations. Stories of rows of foot massages on the bus, storiesof praying at the Grand Canyon at sunrise, of getting a baseball signed by every person in the stadiumexcept for the players... the list goes on and on.There is a quote that says “Some people come into our lives and quickly go. Some stay forawhile and leave footprints on our hearts and we are never, ever the same.” The people I met on USYon Wheels came into my life and lived with me for 6 1/2 short weeks. And each one of them, in theirown way, has left a mark on my heart and has changed me, and I will never, ever be the same.22

ShalhevetHolocaust“All that there was leftwas a statue and a forest.”23

ShalhevetI was unableto cry atAuschwitz. As Ientered, I saw therevolting sign, butmy eyes remaineddry, my tear ductsinactive. It said,“Arbeit macht frei,”meaning, “Workmakes freedom.”My tour guide explainedthat thevictims of thecamp were forcedto make that deceitfulsign as apart of a dailywork routine.However, I was incredibly impressed y the upsidedown“B” in the word “Arbeit,” as I learned thatthe creators of the sign used this imperfection tocommunicate the false implications of that sentence.I felt a strong sense of relief, as sufferers ofthe camp provided opposition to the vicious crimesbeing forced on them.Amidst the darkness of the environment, Iwas surprised by the strong colors I saw aroundthe camp. Towards the end of my tour, my guideled us to a rectangular pool of bright green liquid.Ironically, what I had previously recognized as myfavorite color was now used to conceal masses ofexterminated people. I tried to concentrate onthe small patches of vibrant yellow flowers thatlined the pool; they served no abhorrent purpose.Though the flowers may have been mere weeds,they had found a loophole in the darkness, a wayto beautify the horror. As I leaned over to pick aLife and Death in Auschwitzby Janna Hoffmanflower, I noticed asmall, flaky peace ofhardly decayedbone underneathone of the petals,but I hardly shivered.Instead, I feltrelieved that theflowers had grownalongside thebones. Here, whereverI looked, lifeemerged fromdeath.Althoughmy reactions toAuschwitz werecompletely unanticipated,they instigatedmy own self-discovery. Initially, I was angrywith myself for not demonstrating the emotionthat I was “supposed” to feel when visiting a concentrationcamp - overwhelming sadness. I hadbecome a victim of the human tendency to constantlyattempt to foresee reactions to new circumstances,as I had expected to cry in such anintense realm of depression. However, as I walkedthrough the hellish grounds, I realized that mysurprise response was not inappropriate, but enlightening.The experience allowed my to recognizemy two most abundant perspectives, optimismand reality. While I continually strive to seethe flowers in poor circumstances, I am well awareof the bones, or warning signs, that hinder my path.Since then, I no longer attempt to foresee my responses;instead, I allow my personality to guidemy direction, allowing me to openly experiencethe moment.The rail spur leading to the crematoria (gas chambers)at Auschwitz-Birkenau.24

ShalhevetA Bright Dark Day-AnonymousIt was bright outside on that summer day,Blue sky all around and clouds far away.But as we approached dark clouds amassed,The specter of thought and voices from the past.I had only seen pictures in black and white,Now in bright living color it was as dark as night.Supposed to be a hot summer day, the air drew cold,I felt so alone although a hand I did hold.The wood and stone visions of the past made me sick,Was it the gas, ashes, the stench - I could not pick.We all supported one another and in silence most cried,Feeling numb from so much pain I remained dry-eyed.Many occasions had I envisioned myself confined in this place,But no image as vivid as past voices calling from space.I never could imagine exactly how I would feel,To this day I still cannot - for my experience seemed surreal.Although I walked on the tracks as did they,Their fear and ignorance was more real than one may feel today.They were the victims and I only knew stories of the past,They endured the deaths of their families and I saw the ashes that had last.When walking we took a moment to reflect and write,Stiff, I looked up and saw only blacks crows of the night.The dreary sky over the area contrasted the black,Were these all prisoners saw - was it color that they lacked?The birds were the symbol of freedom to me and those past,There were bodies carrying the spirits of the ashes overcast.It was this I found to be the prisoners’ and my connection,The spirit of each victim to be kept alive as a correction.As we left this cold area of terror nothing was left behind,The concentration camp Auschwitz always to remain vivid yet dark in my mind.25

ShalhevetYou in Meby Tali KwellerThat feeling within,The one you hold within your heartDon’t be afraid of it.The feeling has only begun to start.That feeling you have,Maybe sadness, guilt, or pride,I’ll tell you a secretIt is a piece of me you hold inside.My picture you sawIn the camp, on that wall.The one of my family and I,I remember how we stood so tall.Then came that day,When they entered our lives.The soldiers, the barracks,The end of our pride.“Save yourself?” I asked.What about them, where will they go?I no longer had to askThere they were, helpless in the snow.Freezing and burning,That was my fate.The liberators arrived,A few moments too late.As you walked through those barracks,Did you see my eyes?Did you feel my heartbeat,Did you hear my cries?But please do me one favor,Please feel some pride.Because you chose to remember,You did not shut your eyes.And forever now,Within you I will sleep.Carry me with you always,My memory forever keep.The memorial at Majdanek, one of the Naziconcentration camps. Photo by Dan Roffman.26

ShalhevetMy JourneyLindsay SherrinHave you ever thought about or imagined what it must have been like to be living through theHolocaust? Well, I know that this was a question that I used to find myself asking until this last summer.This past summer I was a member of Group 5 Israel Pilgrimage/Poland Seminar and I can honestly saythat it was the best learning experience of my life.We started the trip off in Poland, where we visited five concentration camps within one week.That week was beyond a doubt the hardest and most mentally draining of my life. The things that I sawwithin the camps were mind boggling, and the camps themselves were completely depressing. I walkedaway from that week in Poland with a new appreciation for Holocaust survivors and for our religion.If you too wish to gain a greater respect for the Jewish people, then going to Poland before going toIsrael is the way to do that.After concluding our week in Poland, we then headed for Israel, where we spent the next fiveand half weeks. Having never been to Israel before, I did now know what to expect, but as soon as I gotoff the plane I felt completely at home and surprisingly safe. Knowing that the majority of people inIsrael share the same religion as you is so comforting, and seeing Hebrew everywhere is not only reallycool but also extremely incredible. I fell in love with Israel within the first five minutes of being there,and I knew from that moment that the summer would be incredible.During our weeks in Israel, we traveled to the North as well as the South, and in addition tothat we stayed in Jerusalem for a good two weeks. What I found to be amazing about Israel was thateach place we went to was equally beautiful and unique. I have a special memory from each placevisited, and I continue to hold those memories close to my heart.As the weeks dwindled down and we realized that we would be back home, I could feelnothing but sadness about having to leave Israel, a place that I already considered to be home. I knowthat I will return soon, but every day I miss it more and more. If you are considering going, do not holdback; go to Israel and experience all of the pleasures that I briefly shared with you.Photo by Rina Goldberg.27

ShalhevetMy Poland Experienceby Melissa RaphaelIf you asked me at the beginningof the summer of 1999, on USY onWheels, whether I would take a trip toPoland the next summer, I would have said“Yeah right, I’m not crazy, why would Iwant to go to Poland.” This left two Pilgrimagetrips: Spain/Israel Pilgrimage andHeroism and Hope - Italy/Israel Pilgrimage.However, during Friday night dinnerin Texas, I told my best friends Tali andArie that if they held my hand the weekin Poland, I would go with them.I don’t remember what exactlyBunks at Auschwitz. Photo by Dan Roffman. changed my mind, but it must have hadsomething to do with being with 47 otherJewish teenagers who were proud of their heritage like I was. Like many other USYers, Pilgrimage wasone of the most memorable experiences of my life, but my experience had an added dimension. I amthe granddaughter of two Holocaust survivors. My Nona and Nono came from Salonika, Greece, thelargest Sephardic community of that time. Little is known about the Sephardic Holocaust experience,but 96% of that entire community was exterminated, including our entire family. Growing up I heardmy grandparents’ stories at Friday night dinners, Holocaust memorials, and on Rosh Hashanah. UnderSephardic custom, my Nono took an aliyah to the Torah every Rosh Hashanah. After the aliyah, theRabbi recited a long list of names of our family that perished in the Holocaust. Once I decided to goto Poland, it was my first wish to be the first of my immediate family to recite Kaddish and say the longlist of names at the place where they all probably perished.Upon arriving at Auschwitz, I realized my Nona and I had something in common. In 1943, shewas sixteen and arrived at this death camp with her family. In 2000, I was sixteen and arrived at thisdeath camp with 71 committed Jews. It was not what I expected from the stories I heard. When myNona arrived, it was night. She was separated from her entire family and was all alone. She saw thesickly, fearful faces of inmates. She saw the dirty, crowded, and unsanitary conditions of the barracks.When I arrived, it was day time. It was my obligation to be there. I clung to my friends because I couldnot be alone. I saw tourists young and old, of all nationalities. I saw cleaned barracks made intomuseums. Any signs that it was once the most destructive concentration camp were gone. Visually, itwas hard to imagine that it was once a death camp. Yet the one thing that still existed, the one thing myNona and I had in common, was our feelings and emotions. I didn’t need to see an intact death campto feel the horrors and sadness of Auschwitz, to feel that death was all around me.At the end of our day, my group formed a circle to recite our own memorial service. I gave myNono’s Rosh Hashanah list to my head counselor, who recited those names in El Melay Rachamim, theMemorial Prayer. Afterwards, my friend Tali and I went to the side so I could say the Sephardic Kaddish.28

ShalhevetContinued from previous page:As I recited Kaddish, other friends joined my circle. The words barely came out of my mouth. Althoughit was difficult, I struggled and completed it. When I finished, my friends comforted. I burst intotears when my friend Hillel hugged me and said “Your grandparents would be proud.” I cried for myfamily that died, for my family that had to go through it, and for the fact that I had said Kaddish for ourfamily.A week later when I arrived at the Kotel, I took my Nono’s Rosh Hashanah list and placed it inone of the cracks in the wall. I said my own prayer for them. At that point, they were no longer nameson a list, they became Great Grandparents Avraham, D’Joya, Jacob, and Riqueta, Aunt Miriam and AuntRachel, Uncle Leon, Uncle Joshua, Uncle Mordo, and Uncle Moshe, and my infant cousin. For me, theywere symbolically home.My experience continued when I returned home. I showed my Nona my pictures from Poland.She immediately picked out Birkenau, where she spent the majority of her time during the Holocaust.This showed me that after 53 years, the impact of her experience is still with her. This experienceimpacted my life as well. The stories of my Nona and Nono and other survivors will be in my heartforever. It used to be that I heard the stories, but now because of Pilgrimage, I can tell them. I promiseto tell the stories to all those who will listen. I believe each one of us who is fortunate enough to havethe opportunity to see with our own eyes the horrors of the Holocaust is obligated to share theirexperience with others. It is up to us to teach, to remember, and never to forget.Written in Treblinkaby Tarah J. HyattBeauty is here.Life is here.Then evil comes.The evil turns the life to ashes,And the ash covers the land.But from the ash,Comes life.The life is small and frail,It is only one.But soon the oneBecomes many.The life is still small and few.It may never beWhat the life once was,But there will beLife again, andStill.The memorial at Treblinka; each stonerepresents a town wiped out in theHolocaust. Photo by Dawn Levine.29

ShalhevetJewish Identity“It is our obligation, as Jews and as humanbeings, to become anew, to free ourselvesfrom our previous ‘oppressors of evil,’ and bringlight and goodness to the world.”30

ShalhevetFinding Myselfby Erika NehrbassFor as long as I can remember attendingHebrew school, I can also rememberbeing confused about my true Jewishidentity. I was a normal second grader, butunlike the other kids in my Hebrew school, Iwas a second grader with a non-Jewish father.I knew from the moment I was toldthis that I was very different. Throughout myelementary, junior high, and some of my highschool years, things were the same as theyhad always been for my family. Although mydad supported what we believed in, whenmy mom and the rest of my siblings and Iwent to temple, Dad slept in. Mom and mybrother and sisters lit Hanukah candles andDad watched silently. As a Jew I still didn’tsee any problem with the way my siblingsPhoto by Jackie Topol.and I were raised, but I soon learned that Ihad created my own barriers by rejecting such observances such as keeping Shabbat and kashrut.It wasn’t until USY Encampment this past summer that I discovered my true Jewish identity. Iwas in a camp with hundreds of other USYers, some of whom were much more observant than myself.Participating in all the Jewish activities and discussions with others made me feel especially connectedto my friends. Being a camper and participating in all kinds of Jewish discussion groups made me feeleven more connected to my Jewish identity. The identity I had searched to find for a long time wasfinally being uncovered.Whoever said that the children of an interfaith marriage can’t be religious? Judaism doesn’t,but I did. At this point in my life, I have decided to change the beliefs I had written in stone at the ageof seven. Judaism has never taught me that I am a bad person because of the life I lead, but it is nowthat I realize I want to choose another path. Although I wasn’t originally the same as every otherHebrew school student, I have still reached the same point in my life. I want religion to be an importantpart of my life, and I am determined to reach this goal. Someone once said that “the road to afriend’s house is never far,” and Judaism is now my friend. I have found my true identity.31

ShalhevetJust Be A Jewby David CormanWe have not changed over the years. As much as we think we have, we are still Jewish and westill possess that same longing to be together in our homeland, the land of Israel. While we do not livein Israel, this does not mean that we are able to neglect the fact that, just an ocean away, lies theunbelievable result of centuries and generations of previously unfulfilled dreams, hopes, and tears.Abraham Joshua Heschel once wrote that, “Living is not a private affair of the individual. Livingis what man does with God’s time, what man does with God’s world.” For us, this means taking anactive role in the Jewishcommunity, performingand observing the mitzvotof the Torah, and as of thelast 53 years, supportingthe land of Israel.No other gen-eration can say that theylived in such a timewhere any Jews, regardlessof his or her background,could find shelter in a Jewishstate. Although weare not the creators of thisdream, it continues to beour responsibility and obligationto perpetuate theamazing gift that we havebeen so fortunate to re-ceive.The creation of aJewish state is not a recentphenomena. In fact, onlya little while after the FirstTemple was destroyedand the Jews were exiledto Babylon, we weregiven the right of returnand rebuild our devas-tated land. After much destructionand persecu-tion, we were finally ableto come home. It is allstarting to sound quite familiar.So now we finallyhave our own state, yetthese past 53 years havein no means been quiet orpeaceful for the Jewishpeople. What can the averageJew who just wantssafety and tranquility do?Do what we have always done as Jews: Be of strong faith, have hope, remain strong, and never give up.Throughout my years spent at a Jewish day school and in USY, I have come to realize that aboveeverything I have learned, not being afraid is the most important thing I have come away with. Indeed,one of the most popular songs in any USY region is “Kol Ha’Olam Kulu,” the famous saying of RabbiNachman of Bratzlav: “The entire world is a narrow bridge. The main thing is not to fear.” Being ofgreat courage is one of the hardest things, yet if accomplished, anything else in life will come that mucheasier.We live in a time when learning is important. Indeed, education is the foundation for anyperson’s life. Yet we have come to a point in the history of the world where the extent of what youknow cannot compare to what you do and what you feel.32

ShalhevetContinued from previous page:For me, being a Jew means having the “Hatikvah” (literally “The Hope”) as my national anthem.It means pursuing what you feel is right in life. It means looking evil in the eye and saying: “This canchange. I know it can. I can’t live my life like this. No one can. There must be some spark of light inall of this darkness. I must keep going. I must survive and live.”“The Exodus from Egypt occurs in every human being, in every era, in every year, and even inevery day,” says Rabbi Nachman. It is our obligation, as Jews and as human beings, to become anew, tofree ourselves from our previous “oppressors of evil,” and bring light and goodness to this world. Wemust be the messengers of peace and the harbingers of courage if we are to survive. So let yourself befree. Let yourself live. Let yourself be a Jew, and live this truly meaningful Jewish life.Keep Your Eyes Openby Elissa SteckerKeep your eyes openWhen the world goes blindFor what they cannot see you canBe aware of the problems in the worldSpread your knowledge to every manKeep your ears openAnd hear the criesWhich you once ignored beforeIf you listen closelyYou may find those criesBelong to someone you once adoredKeep your lips unsealedWhile others remain silentHelp to spread the wordTake action against societies’ wrongsLet your voice be heardKeep your arm extendedFor others to reachWe all need a helping handAssist in every way you canHelp people reach the goal they plannedKeep your heart beatingWhen heat turns coldHave extra love to shareGuide one person and change their lifeJust by promising you’ll be thereUse the natural powers you possessAnd help the world to healAll it takes is your willingnessOne person to make it real.33

ShalhevetMore Pressing Concernsby Josh KipneesPhoto by Josh Rudawitz.There were more pressing concerns thanthe threat of scorpions, he said, than the dust cloggingmy nostrils or the blood oozing down myelbow. There was no time now to contemplatethese matters. There would be time, as there is atime for everything, but now nightfall threatenedthe sun-dazzled sky with twilight. “Follow me,”commanded the cloaked figure, a silhouette amidstthe technicolored backdrop, as he led us to a plateauin the hilly sands. The shadow turned andspoke, his voice echoing against the emptiness.“One thing you all must promise me is that youwill not speak. It is most important that you remainsilent, so that you may hear the desert.”Hear the desert? What a joke, I thought.This guy was a few cards short of a full deck. Thesnickering I heard behind me assured me I wasnot alone in my beliefs. After all, what was I toexpect from a guy named “Sum-Sum” who livedas a recluse in the Negev, the driest section ofIsrael; a guy who boasted of having improvised ona lack of toilet paper in the desert, who inspectedanimal droppings for a living. And the incessantlyblinking light of a cell phone emanating from hispants pocket really added to his credibility. Whata phony. This guy had no more business leading usthrough a desert than would Bill Gates. Filled withcynicism, I shuffled across the desert plain whilethe mountain of sand that had collected in myshoes continued to scrape against my aching feet.When we approached the clearing, theguide assembled us in a circle, then insisted we sitdown. Reluctantly, we all squatted or kneeled onthe ground, unwilling to have sand amass in thefew crevices where it had not already. Amidst aquiet hum of pessimistic chatter, the guide beganhis soliloquy, cool and collected, as if he had spokento us thousands of times before.“Welcome to my home,” he announced ina heavy Mid-Eastern accent. “I feel as though Ihave been a kind host, as I have prepared yourmeals for you and shared my home with you. Butnow, it is your turn. You must show respect toboth me and to my home, the desert, for the desertis where my Lord resides.”Almost all of the whispers had quieted,except for the soft whisper of wind twirling sandinto the air. Sum-Sum continued, speaking of theimportance of respecting one’s surroundings. Thewords of this gruff man, whose body was now indistinguishablefrom the darkness, struck a chordin my mind. I found myself beginning to understandwhat he was trying to say, until he added,“My god’s name is Fee-di-dee. This is how I honorhim.” He proceeded to perform for us a ridiculousdance, complete with twirls and grunts. Heimplored us to follow. Seeing as how my grouphad just been transformed into idiotic monkeys, Iwould have thought we were on Candid Camerahad I not known better. Where there had been asense of deep spirituality and quiet harmony withnature just a few minutes ago, now all that remainedwere laughing, raving primates.I lost it then. The prospect of me listeningto this nonsense any further sickened me. I felt34

ShalhevetContinued from previous page:used. If this guy had at any point touched my soulwith his rubbish, I had immediately erased it frommy mind, as I laughed at the sheer absurdity ofwhat this loon was saying. As we sat down, thoughI had ceased to listen attentively to Sum-Sum, whocontinued rambling, I still listened critically to theguide, solely for the purpose of taking apart hiswords in my mind and mocking them.“Now that you have all been seated,” remarkedthe phony, teeth chattering a bit due tothe chill of the night, “I’m going to have to ask youto stand up again, to go find a spot separate fromthe rest of the group, where each of you may bealone.” People began to pull themselves to theirfeet and dust off their behinds; some still snickeredat the thought of the “ritual dance” in whichthey had just partaken. “When you get to thisplace, sit down, breathe deeply a few times, observethe sky and the sand...” He paused. “Andtry to feel your God around you, enveloping you.”My friends began to get up and find a nookof their own in the desert. Unwilling to be theonly individual not participating in this activity, Iforced myself to trudge through the quicksand andfound a smooth rock surrounded by thorny, angledsagebrush. I’ll just sit here for a couple of minutes,then I’ll go back to the base to sleep, I thought.They can’t possibly make me stay here and inhalethis nonsense. I was just about to get up, ready toreturn to my bed in hopeless disgust.But then I looked up into the sky. And Isaw God. I saw God without having glanced uponHim. I saw the dark sky, and the gray expanse ofthe desert, and those stars - the same stars I seeat every night a hemisphere away, the same starsthat Abraham saw when God promised to numberhis children like those selfsame stars in thesky. And I knew - I didn’t think, I knew - that therewas something much more to this barren desert,to life itself. It came to me that I understood whatthis man whom I had ridiculed, had scorned, hadmeant when he said there were more pressingconcerns. Life did not revolve around me. Therewere more important things in this desert, in life,than what I wore, than who my friends were, thanwho I was. For the first time, I saw the biggerpicture. Suddenly, in my mind appeared the wordsof the Hebrew song, “Todah al-Kol Mah-sheh Barata,”meaning “Thank you for all you have created.”I examined these words, turned them upside down,saw them, heard them through fresh organs. Thisepiphany had taken my breath away, had left medumb and speechless.When I had composed myself once again, Iturned my arm over and looked at the large, bloodiedbandage that covered my elbow. I remembered,then, how I had injured myself rappelling,how my arm had bled so and my veins surged withpain. Now, as I turned my focus back into themidnight sky littered with tiny, remote universes, Ino longer felt the pain that had a few secondsbefore existed. I no longer felt my body at all. AllI felt was a deep consciousness and understanding.I looked into the sky, and I felt insignificantand trivial. I was humbled in the presence of theking before whom I stood.The wise man called us back to the circleafter what seemed like eons. I tried to stand up,but I could not.35

ShalhevetThe Mitzvah of Happinessby Anna HuttThe kitchen smelled likeHamentashen and apples were scattedacross the table. A dozen “ChagPurim Sameach!” cards hung fromdecorated baskets as my mother andI filled them with goodies. Once thebaskets were full, we loaded them intothe car and began our afternoon adventureof delivering Shalach Manot.Previously, my family had sent thesePurim gift baskets to our friends; however,this particular year, we had decidedto find the names of a few elderlysynagogue members and visitthem instead.The drive to the retirement homewas a long one, leaving me plenty ofDrawing by Tarah J. Hyatt.time to wonder apprehensively aboutwhether or not these people wouldbe happy to see us or annoyed. What would we say to them? We had never met them before! And,more importantly, was there really even a point in doing this? After all, what could a basket of goodiesdo for an older man or woman?My wondering was cut short as we pulled into the retirement home parking lot. My mom andI carried the Shalach Manot into the building and began finding the rooms of the residents whosenames our Rabbi had given us. Most of them were not in their rooms as we stopped by; there was agroup activity going on downstairs and the majority of the people in the building were participating inthat. We left several baskets at the doors of the residents.When we came to drop off our last Shalach Manot, we knocked on the designated room door,expecting no answer. Just as we were placing goodies by the door, it creaked open and a frowningvoice called out, “Who’s there?” Explaining ourselves and delighted to actually see the recipient ofShalach Manot, my mom and I handed our basket to a tall, elderly, thin man with glasses. His handsshook as he received the gift, and still not smiling he examined us for a moment and then asked us tocome in.It took only a glance around the man’s empty-looking apartment room to realize that he mustlive alone. A few pictures hung on the walls, a newspaper lay open on a clean coffee table, and a fewchairs filled the room, only one of which looked like it had been used in the past decade. Making hisway into the suite, the man asked for our names and my age once more. He thanked us bluntly for thegift and disappeared for a moment into the tiny kitchen in the back of the area. Upon returning, hisstony frown had softened somewhat, and he held in his hand a small, gold-framed picture. “This is36

ShalhevetContinued from previous page:my great grand-daughter,” he explained with a heavy Yiddish accent, holding the portrait out to me.“She looks a little like you, no?” he said. Peering at the picture, I asked, “What’s her name?” He replied,and continued to say that she was in grade school and loved to read. “Just like my daughter,” hecommented. “Hilda read books when she was six.” Prompting him into conversation, my mom and Ispent the next twenty minutes with the man hearing about his family (who all lived far away and rarelygot a chance to visit him) and his past. He mentioned his daughter’s experience of having to emigrateto America as a small child, and he told us how up until he came to this country, he had worked in thegrain fields in Germany and lived in a shtetl where the children could wade in the river nearby. Thestories he told were ones I had never heard before, and the smile on his face as he recalled playing inthat stream was contagious. When my mom and I left, the man smiled and thanked us for visiting him.I smiled too as I recognized how enjoyable the short time had been, and wondered if I would get to seethe man again.It was not even a week later that the synagogue announced this man’s death. Apparently hehad died in his home and his family would be arriving shortly for the burial. I still wonder whether ornot we had any impact on this man and if our visit meant anything to him. I felt that the experience oftalking to him not only fulfilled a mitzvah but also gave me the treasure of looking into another’s past.My mother commented that it was a little creepy to think that we had just seen this man andmay have been the last ones to talk to him. I can only hope that perhaps our visit to him allowed thislonely man to die a little bit happier. Now I believe that one of the greatest mitzvot a person can do issimply to try to give the gift of happiness. Happiness might come in a decorated basket of Purimgoodies; it might come in a twenty minute conversation; it might come in a hug or an outstretchedhand; it might come simply in a bit of company and friendship. Though my act was small, I learned thatPurim has the potential to do the mitzvah of giving happiness to those in need of it, which I now feel isthe greatest mitzvah of all.37

ShalhevetJewish Identityby Melissa CohensonWhen I walk the halls through my publichigh school, I walk not only as a freshman, but alsoas a Jew. I walk with this sense of pride. Not onlyfrom my Jewish people, but from the State of Israel,my, and every Jew’s, home. I amproud to answer to anyone thatI, Melissa Cohenson, am a bornJew. I also give an immenseamount of praise to mymother for becoming a Jew.When my mother marriedmy father, he was a Jew, shewas not. She gave it muchthought, and decided to convert,leading to the everlastingJewish life that my sistersand I will eternally hold.I can proudly say thatboth my saba and grandma,from my father’s side, survivedthe terrors of the Holocaust. Mysaba lived to be 77. Never once did I see him witha frown on his face, or anger in his heart. He wasso filled with life, and reflected it unto me. Sabataught me so much about Judaism that without hisknowledge, I would not be the person I am today.After his death, on November 23, 1997, I realizedthat I couldn’t be sad forever thinking about hisloss. My saba would not want me to live withresentment in my heart because of his suddendeath. So, I decided I had to give back to theworld, in God, and most importantly to celebratewho I am.What I have to say to every Jewish teenout there is that you must acknowledge the fact,and be ecstatic about, the fact thatyou were born a Jew. Just lookat our history; we rebuilt theFirst Temple after it was destroyed,we received theTen Commandments, wereceived the Torah, wesurvived the Holocaust,we survived EretzMitzraim, and most importantly,everyday we overcomehatred from otherethnicities by surviving.I am happy to saythat for one week in November,my Rabbi, my father, somecongregants of my temple, and I willbe traveling to our homeland, Eretz Yisrael. Whatyou as a teen today can do to help our people isto keep believing in God, keep on praying, continueto have faith, and now more than ever, livelife to the fullest, knowing that there is a reasonGod created you as a Jew. What I have learned isthat we were all created because God believesthat we all have the ability to make a significantand positive impact on our people.38

ShalhevetDecisionsby Steven LeibowitzSo many times people will question,American-Jew or Jewish-American?On this day I will give a reply,To a single heritage my loyalties will lie.Will it be stars and stripes above my bed,Or will the Star of David cover my head?For many years, both flags have sailed,But in my mind, one has never prevailed.Finally, at the darkest tragedy,All inhibitions must be set free.Of this country I hold a right,To volunteer if I wish to fight.I seek to make my vision known,Whether I should take one for my own.As we look at the new war on terror,I do not want to make a rash error.Do I call myself an absolute JewWho knows Tanach and Gemara too?Or am I American, born and raised,Walking the golden roads and never phased?Neither of these fates did I chose,But both do I love and wish never to lose.A lion is a difficult animal to catch,Its powers - only the greatest predator canmatch.So now we see these two great lands,For a noble quest they all join hands.They will take down this evil at its source,With bravery, efficiency, and force.Will the results sway my thoughts in this affair,Or merely confuse them further beyond repair.I realize I return exactly to where I began,Showing everyone the labyrinth of my plan.Although I think it better not to conclude,Within our faith and country life is a feud.It is not so important to keep squabbling,About nomenclature and internal rambling.Regardless of outcome, the world needs action,Not a protest, not a rivalry, not a small faction.Banding together is now,Erasing labels is how.Artwork by Jackie Topol.39

ShalhevetBeing Jewish in Pleasantvilleby Rebecca MarkovitchI guess you could consider where I live to be somewhat like Pleasantville, but to most it wouldseem like a normal town in Southern California. The town is very calm and quiet, except on Fridaynights when our world comes to a stand still for the football games and on Saturday mornings whensoccer games take overevery field in a 10 mile radius. Sunday morningsamuse me becausethe church bells ring, and the streets are linedwith the cars of thosewho are attending church. Don’t get mewrong, I’m happy thatthese people have their religion and havesomething to believe in;everyone is entitled to that. I just wishthat they were under-standing of other religions.This never reallyhit me until the beginning of myjunior year, when I camehome from Israel. I didn’t realizehow much I enjoyeda real Shabbat in Israel until Igot home and had to dealwith this Pleasantville again.When I began school, Itried to think of the positive,but it didn’t happento end up that way. Theusual conversations aboutwhat you did this summercame and went, and I triedto explain the significanceof my trip to Israel and Po-land, but no one seemed tounderstand, not even the teach-ers seemed enthusiasticabout it. I began to realize thatmy feelings about my religionand my peers had changed sig-nificantly. I saw the importanceof being Jewish and hated the factthat no one around mecould relate to my feelings. I tried to answerthe most simplistic questionsabout my religion and my feelings about it in the nicest possible way, but I sometimes got thefeeling that people were just asking to be cordial, and they didn’t really care. I also saw that this socalledPleasantville wasn’t so pleasant. I disliked their ignorance with no desire to learn.At the end of the year, when I decided to become a more observant Jew and keep Shabbat,their responses were extremely hurtful. When I told them I wouldn’t be able to go out on Fridaynights or Saturdays until sundown, their comments were along the lines of “your senior year isn’t goingto be fun.” I began to think of what we did on Friday nights and I realized that it wasn’t that specialanyways. The negative response I received helped me see how important being Jewish is. I realizedthat USY was a large part of my life and that it was a place to go where people could relate to mysituation and have the same passions, desires, hopes, and dreams as I. There is a common bond that Ishare with the people that have the same religion as me, and I see now that I made the right choice tofollow my heart. I’ve learned a lot about myself and found who my real friends are.40

ShalhevetPhoto/Essay ContestWinners41

Shalhevet1st Place: Jewish Eyesby Rebecca SiegelI looked down at the 3D glasses that my Hebrew high school teacher, Leora Isaacs, had placedin my hands. Embarassed, I put on the goofy glasses along with my thirteen confirmation classmates. Irealized that, as I looked into the light, I could see Jewish stars reflecting in the light. Leora had said thatthe glasses were supposed to help us see the world through Jewish eyes.What does it mean to see the world through Jewish eyes?, I wondered. How can I, Rebecca Siegel, seethe world in a Jewish perspective? I realized that, even after ten years of studying Judaism, I still had somuch to learn. That was when I discovered my new mission: I was going to see the world throughJewish eyes!I learned about USY on Wheels from my older sister, Elizabeth. Excitedly, she showed me herscrapbook that she had made, with as much enthusiasm as she had when she first came back from thetrip. According to her, there was no question about it: I was going on Wheels! However, Elizabeth isadventurous and loves to travel, while I’m always scared to go to new places and meet new people.Still, as I looked at the faces of the Wheelniks in her scrapbook, I saw a look of enthusiasm in their eyes.They seemed to know the answer to my question. They knew what it was like to see the worldthrough Jewish eyes! I was going to discover what they knew!While on USY on Wheels, I learned in depth what the Jewish customs and laws were about.We prayed three times a day - in hotels, near reststops, by a pancake house, and at a doughnut shop inOmaha - strictly followed the laws of Kashrut, and rested from our long drives on Shabbat. DuringShabbat, I always felt Jewish. There was a peaceful air that filled our senses and brought us together.Before every Havdalah service, we would recall our favorite moments of week - shopping in Chicago,hiking at Yosemite, praying during sunrise at the Grand Canyon, and going to the Space Center inHouston.Although I did not bring my 3D glasses with me, I now know what it is like to see the worldthrough Jewish eyes. At each stop, we learned more about Judaism and how it relates to our lives. Still,I didn’t truly feel like I had those glasses resting on my face until the night that my bus read the Bookof Eicha. During the week before Tisha B’Av, our counselor, Elana Roth, announced that all of us wouldbe reading part of the Megillah on Saturday night. She helped all 48 of us individually, including theWheelniks who had never read Torah before in their lives.On Saturday night, we sat in a circle in order of our numbers. All of the lights were off, exceptfor the candle glowing in the center of the circle. I picked up the card with my lines on it, my handshaking nervously. I watched as the first person began to read, the light brightening her face. I realizedhow hard she had worked to prepare, just as all of us had, and the reading would not have been thesame without her voice. Soon, the next person read, and the next, and the next... Then, it was my turn.I began a little shakily, but, feeling the reassuring smiles of my fellow Wheelniks sitting around me, Ifinished with confidence.As I listened to the rest of the readers, I looked closely into the light, and I thought that I couldsee Jewish stars reflecting in it. As our voices blended together, I realized we would not have been asstrong if one voice was missing. We had accomplished yet another feat, together.Each day, we would work together to load and unload the bus, make meals, and lead Tefilah.42

ShalhevetContinued from previous page:Together, we were a Jewish community, and that is what Judaism is really about - working together asa community. Together, we had looked into the world with Jewish eyes!During the last Shabbat, as we sang our hearts out with ruach, I realized that I had become astronger Jewish adult. I now had a smile to match those Wheelniks in the pictures. I hope to travel toIsrael and see more of the world through Jewish eyes! Now, wherever I go, I will always have a pair ofthose glasses resting on my face.2nd Place: Thoughtsby Alyssa ZaleonI wrote this right after seeing the Oklahoma City Bombing memorial:i look up atthe navy skyspeckled with pinpricksofsilver and seethe large luminousmoon asit nodsover theclear pooladding a sense ofsecurity to an insecure place.the moona round circle is aneverending cycle, like peaceinterrupted by acts of violence thatdiminish the image and the hopeonly to have them reappear againseemingly stronger than before.Written on 7/4/01 in Oklahoma City; USY on Wheels, Mission: Mitzvah.43

ShalhevetIn memory of all thosewho lost their lives onSeptember 11th, 2001.The United Synagogue of Conservative JudaismDepartment of Youth Activities155 Fifth AvenueNew York, NY 10010-6802Non-Profit Org.US PostagePAIDNew York, NYPermit No.790644