Personal Narrative: My True Identity

I remember the very day I became Israeli. I was born in Israel and lived there for two years, but I only recognized my true identity on the first day of elementary school in Closter, New Jersey, almost three years after I had left Israel. I walked into the unfamiliar school clutching my mother’s hand like a safety rope that was holding me back from certain death; I was absolutely terrified to be away from her for so long every day. I was an extremely nervous child and I clung on to my mother anywhere I went. I did not want my mother to abandon me, however I also felt the pressure of appearing cool and independent in front of my new classmates. A seemingly genius idea popped into my head. I’ll just talk to her in Hebrew, that way no one can …show more content…
I was isolated and objectified like a fish in an aquarium, trembling as children stared at me from the other side of the glass, tapping on it and studying my reaction. The pulsing sound of their sticky fingers against the glass rang through my head like a high pitched screech, drowning out everything else. I realized that they saw me as an outsider because I spoke a different language. It wasn't just the children; the hushed voices from parents whispering to each other filled the room as well. Every word that I could almost make out was another blow to what little confidence I had. I knew they were already judging me and they seemed hesitant to let me near their children. This moment introduced me to the real world, one filled with judgement and prejudice. It didn't matter to the parents that I was no less of a human being than their own children. The only thing the parents cared about were my differences from them. Ever since that day, I felt people’s judgement and preconceptions follow me like a shadow that wouldn't go away. But I am not tragically Israeli. I am not ashamed of who I am; I am extremely proud to be Israeli and I exemplify that part of my identity wherever I go. I don't belong in some Israeli sob story about the persecution of the “inferior” Jews and their refuge in the establishment of a Jewish homeland.. I love my identity and I am extremely proud to be …show more content…
When an American is surrounded by a large group of Israelis, the contrast of cultures is just as sharp. My true identity comes forth when I volunteer as a counselor in the Israeli Scouts, a Zionist youth group meant for Israeli children. In the Israeli Scouts, we encourage everyone to be extremely energetic through jumping up and down, singing, and dancing. When I jump with all of the Israeli children, I think about the accomplishments of the Zionist movement- specifically when Theodor Hertzl, the leader of the Zionist movement, helped establish the state of Israel. I feel as if I am celebrating with all of the original Zionists over the creation of not only a new Jewish state, but a new Jewish identity for those who have struggled their entire lives just to survive. To the American in our midst, however, he just sees a bunch of people dancing to music that he does not understand. He is too far away in his own world to see the same thing that we see. At certain times I am not Israeli, I am me. I have lived in America for almost my entire life, and my identity has been shaped by both Israeli and American cultures. I play sports, I work hard in school, I spend time with friends (who happen to not be Israeli). I listen to American music and watch American television. I belong to no specific nationality. I am just me.
Sometimes I feel judged, but it does not make me angry. It really just confuses me. How can someone hold themselves back