Wednesday, August 1, 2012

Israel, you make it so hard to love you

I haven't even moved yet. Haven't packed up my stuff, gotten on a plane, and settled in a new home before fighting with your people. Which if I remember correctly I've been told since my Birthright trip are my people. I haven't even gone to a supermarket so why am I fighting with your people?!

It seems that because my father's Israeli I have more to prove. You wanted me when I didn't want you and now that I do you're making me crawl back. My ID is good enough to claim me as your own, but now when I want what I'm told is rightfully mine I can't have it. Why were my friends allowed to work in your offices without promising you their children?

I had 5 months of benefits, but you'll tell me I lived in your home for over a year. Your home. Which I've been told is my home. But I have to prove it. Do you want me to take you to my great-grandparents' home? Show you where my grandmother was raised? Where my father used to ride his bike, pick bamboo by the Yarkon to make kites?

Maybe I am being whiney about this. But maybe I'm also being told two different stories from each person I talk to. Talk to this agency. No that one. No the global one. No the local one. You need all your documents in person. We don't have them online. Apply to this agency and tell them the truth. Why did you tell them the truth? Didn't you know they'd reject you? Tell me your story again? Are both your parents Israeli? You made aliyah and left after 5 months? Oh no, you used up 12 months of benefits. Don't worry, you'll get a free flight. Who told you you'd get a free flight? You might not even get anything. You're a citizen. Just come and go as you please. Prove that you lived in New York. We want you. We don't care. Are you doing this aliyah thing?

I just want to get on a plane and come home. My entire adulthood I've been told that Israel is my home and the Jewish people are my family. Why are you casting me aside like a forgotten daughter?

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