Where Are You From?

As I type these words, I have tears in my eyes and an eerie uncomfortable burden in my stomach. Why is it so hard to navigate around these waters? I ask myself. And literally scratch my head in wonder. A motorcycle sound outside distracts me for a moment, and the cat's meow makes me want to lean down and pet her. Anything for a distraction from the thoughts lingering in my mind for all of these long troublesome months. 

Let me begin by saying: I am the lucky one.
I get to bear (and bare) my cultural identity while being far and away in a palm tree infested Venice Beach, California bohemian apartment, surrounded by mundane pop culture refrences, avocado toasts and matcha lattes, while my family and friends and my cultural cousins - sit in shelters if they're lucky or in profound fear in their homes if not - and have to suffer through a war, a tragedy, a horror. Who am I to comment from the goodness of my privileged environment? '
I am a nobody and I shall not be a spokesperson to my identity.'
I've said that to myself over and over again since October of 2023, but I've hit the bottom pit of my repressed feelings. I've denied myself all that I can deny. These thoughts are now bobbling up in every given moment, and they have turned into words. Words that have to be spoken:
I never considered myself all that Israeli. I mean, of course I did recognize that I AM Israeli, but that part of my identity was only one of many, and far down in the Pyramid of my prioritized identities. I was simply always an ARTIST first, a HUMAN second (yes I realize most will reverse this order but that's for another post), a WOMAN third, a DAUGHTER, a SISTER, a... and the list goes on and on and then I am an ISRAELI and a JEW.

To me, nationality was a separatist idea that only keeps people apart from each other. My younger idealistic self couldn't comprehend the need for nationality altogether, the notion of boundaries in all their forms. 'Countries' were confusing to me. (Interestingly I found cultures to be important and necessary.)

Something changed for me on October 7th, and I have to say - it didn't just change there, in my home town of Israel, it changed for me here in hip Venice beach, in idyllic peaceful California, in free and democratic USA.

It changed when I deeply understood that my idealism is a privilege that I don't actually have. My pacifism is a privilege as well, as I don't live in the world I WANT to live in, but rather in the world that exists. And in THIS WORLD, the world that exists: my identity of being Israeli and Jewish is hated upon. So hated upon that I cringe at the question 'where are you from?' because I know that upon answering it - I will meet that steep reality once more. 

Oh how I wish I could live in an idyllic world... where I would be Israeli and Jewish only several titles down the totem pole... but I don't. I live in a world that views me as an 'oppressor' 'colonizer' 'settler' at best and 'devil with horns' at worst. All because I'm Jewish and Israeli. And let's face it: I am Israeli because my ancestors were refugees who barely survived persecution and fled to a place 'over the rainbow'; their ancestral land that seemed to be the best safe haven for them; the ONLY safe haven. That is my ancestral history, whether I like it or not. That is my gift, my curse, my 'where I am from' answer. 

It's fascinating that in the manifestation and visulazations obsessed culture of Los Angeles is where I found my reality. Where I am from is a real place, with real people, and real events and real pain, and real horror and terror and death and mourning and abnormal childhoods. Where my ancestors are from is persecution, and judgment, and hate, and bigotry and concentration camps and pogroms and massacares upon massacares. But where I and my ancestors are from is also from education, and resilience, and miracles and hope and community and the cherishing of a promise.

I tried to run away to a place somewhere over the rainbow, where my ideals matched up with the world I live in, but there is no place over the rainbow.
A rainbow is a dream; an illusion created by the intersection of light and water.
One can never touch a rainbow, it's merely a reminder of our fantasies and dreams and yes, sometimes also - illusions. I am scared to be proud of who I am, because I didn't choose this identity, nor did I choose my ancestry. But in the face of vilification, ignorance and hate - all I can do and must do is stand tall and stay grounded. Proud, unafraid and walking right through the rainbow. Because if not I, then who?
?אם אין אני לי, מי לי 

So here I am, הינני
Not running away from my past.
Grounded in the realities of the present.
Hopeful for the future. 

I am from Israel: A beautiful TINY piece of land many have fought over and are still fighting.
I am a Jew; I come from an indigenous tribe who sustained culture, language, traditions and beliefs through countless attempts of erasure. 

Now let me ask you then - Where are YOU from?