19. Until we meet again
This is my last entry (at least for now) in this memoir.
I’m often asked, not only by Jewish Americans, but occasionally by incredulous Israelis, “Why did you leave America and come to Israel?” To which I’ve come to reply:
“Would you rather hear the short version (“I’d been back and forth, and decided to stay in Israel. Part of growing up is deciding where your home is, right?”), the long version (much of which can be found in this blog), or the rhetorical question?”
Personally, I prefer the rhetorical question, so here it is:
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“What exactly is there for a young, secular Jew to look for in America?”
I’m not going to propose an answer. It’s after all a rhetorical question. Everyone can and should reach their own conclusion, and I certainly won’t be judgmental about it.
By the way, I added the word “secular” because a religious person might feel right at home in any of the hundreds of synagogue-centric communities in New York City alone.
And why include the word “young”? People of all ages can (and do) come to live in Israel. But pre-commitment youth in their teens and twenties have the additional privilege of adventurism — the freedom to take risks and try on alternate identities.
I regularly encourage my three daughters — all currently in their twenties and in the process of self-invention — to go for the adventure. Today, I’m 66 years old, and those moments of adventure are what I remember most fondly about my own life.
