Category: 400 thoughts
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A different time, a different line.
That first year I interned at my first paper, there was a day that always stuck with me for some reason, even after I quit journalism. We were sitting around the conference table, a bunch of us young students, listening to our seasoned head editor. She was talking emphatically about the Line. That included photos…
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The outsiders inside
Last week, I was driving through the machsom, or checkpoint, between Beitar Illit and Tzur Hadassah. When I say ‘driving through,’ I mean that literally: I slowed for the speed bumps, waved at the soldiers on duty, and sped up to get home. But not before noticing the driver in front of me, who had…
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On Jews, Jerusalem, Women and Walls
Note: Reflections based on my rare February and March 2013 trips to the Kotel. Based on today’s news, I figured today’s as good as any to post. I’ve been to the Kotel, the Western Wall, way too many times in the past year. Previously, I had a comfortable average of maybe once every two or…
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To the immigrant parents I grew up with:
Dear immigrant parents of childhood friends, Hi. How are you? Have I told you lately your English is incredible? It was really fun growing up with your kid. Maybe I’m still even friends with your kid. Most of my friends from childhood had immigrant parents it seems. It really felt that way, at least. To…
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Fifty-Two Paragraphs
Sometimes, pretending to be an amateur photographer helps me be creative. In choosing a photo to submit for this week’s Fifty-Two Frames, I asked my husband about a cheeky idea I had. “I think you’re a writer, not a photographer.” In other words, I seem to enjoy playing with the captions more than handling the…
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The innocent on Memorial Day.
I told Koala he could come with me to the Yom HaZicaron ceremony if he likes. I told him it’s a time where we remember all the soldiers and all the good things they do for us. “And if you want, during the siren, you can think about your uncle who is a chayal, or…
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Speaking up.
It won’t be long before Jewish parents of school-age children no longer remember the point. The memory becomes a faded square of yellow fabric, eventually disintegrating under museum lighting. The pictures, cliche. The speeches, routine. It’s probably already true to some degree, but most of us are young enough to remember the first time we…
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What I learned running 21 kilometers in the 2013 Tel Aviv Marathon
Last Friday, I did a highway practice run in preparation for the Tel Aviv (half) Marathon, and experienced an epiphany. It started around kilometer four, and I fully appreciated it after completing all 16km. By 4km, jogging uphill under a warm 7am sun, I was done. I really was ready to slow to a trot,…
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Universe.
Sometimes we ask the Universe for something and we don’t even realize it. Sometimes we actually do realize. Sometimes we actually get it. And then sometimes you struggle so much with the reception, until you acknowledge it’s what you didn’t want to want but needed very much. So, thanks Universe. (Also, Rolling Stones.)
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I see what you did there, Anwar Sadat…
Oh, you know, just minding my own Zionist business at the IDF museum in מתחם התחנה in Tel Aviv (gorgeous area, go sometime), when in a room about Israel’s generals I notice a photograph symbolizing hope, future, and cold peace… Ho hum, just having a grand time with my ex-arch enemy. What’s that? The pattern…