“Our Story”: How Birthright Israel Helped Me Claim Mine

I’m from Westchester, New York. I studied cinematography at Ithaca College and graduated in 2023. Now I’m getting an MFA in photography through Savannah College of Art and Design. I’m going through my photos from Birthright Israel and writing about my experiences, hoping to eventually compile them into a book.

My dad is Jewish, and my mom is Catholic. My sister and I call ourselves “cashews”: Catholic and Jewish. We celebrated Jewish holidays and I’ve attended many family bar and bat mitzvahs. Still, I had this voice in my head: Do I really belong in Israel? I didn’t want to tell anyone I was raised Catholic because people might think, “Oh, she’s not really Jewish.” I hoped to connect more with my Jewish identity—ethnically, culturally, and religiously.

My sister and I signed up for Birthright Israel together. There were 29 participants from the U.S., and we traveled with eight Israelis. I immersed myself in the Israeli group. I was super fortunate: I got to room with one of our female IDF soldiers for a majority of the trip. We had so much in common, except that in the morning, I put on jeans and a T-shirt, and she put on her IDF uniform. When I asked her how she felt about her service, she told me, “We want to serve. We do this to defend our basic right to exist.”

What I noticed most was community and resilience. We volunteered in a kibbutz, and my group decorated a school gymnasium for Purim. Kids were running around with our IDF soldiers playing soccer. I took a beautiful photograph of one of our soldiers tickling two of the kids, and they’re just laughing with these beautiful smiles.

I had spent three hours with a little girl named Shai. She spoke to her mom in Hebrew, and her mom translated. Shai asked if I could go back to their house and have dinner with them. Her mom said, “Oh, no, their group is leaving.” And I looked at Shai and said, “But I’ll come back to Israel, and you can teach me how to speak Hebrew.” She reached up and took my hand, and in English said, “I love you.”

I was so moved. This little girl had just met me. She has no idea who I am. Her playground is built next to a bomb shelter so she can get to it in fifteen seconds—and she still had the resilience to take a stranger’s hand and tell them she loves them. New Yorkers definitely don’t act like that. It was amazing to experience.

Another morning we went to a military cemetery in Tel Aviv. Our soldiers took us to the gravesite of a fallen friend and told us about him. That was really impactful. Our tour educator said something that landed with me hard: “On your Independence Day, you grill hot dogs and hamburgers, but on ours we come to the cemetery and tell our story.” Our story. That’s what I’m going to title the book I’m making.

At the Nova Music Festival site, I saw an older couple mourning their daughter who had been killed. I asked them to tell me about her, and they invited me to join their weekly memorial for her. We lit candles and placed new flowers. They showed me photos and told me about her. That is an experience I’m going to remember for the rest of my life. I will never forget them.

On this trip, I met people with all kinds of backgrounds. There were two sisters whose dad is Jewish and whose mom is Chinese American. They were raised with Jewish influence the same way we were—culturally, but not practicing. I thought: I’m not so different. Everyone has their own story. The Jewish people I met—Israelis, and my fellow participants—were so welcoming. It’s remarkable how open they all are.

We also visited the Tower of David and heard a speaker from the Greek Orthodox community. He was Christian and his wife is Jewish, so his kids are raised Jewish. He said that on Remembrance Day at his son’s school, they observed a moment of silence, and his son, as the only Jewish student, was the only one who stood up.

Many of us had been talking about social media—because when some of us posted that we were in Israel, we lost followers. I hadn’t even posted anything political. I’m here because I’m Jewish, not to make a statement.

I left the trip feeling super connected and inspired. I’ve started my Duolingo journey to learn Hebrew. I’m going to need intense study because Hebrew is difficult—but even just basic understanding, learning how to type and say milk and water, mom and dad… that’s where I’m starting.

I came back very headstrong. I told my boyfriend, “I want to raise our kids Jewish.” I am also considering officially converting to Judaism. My aunt is beginning that journey right now, and encouraging me to join her. If I go that route, I don’t want to rush—I want to give it the attention it deserves.

Either way, I feel changed. I wasn’t very knowledgeable about the conflict before I went. But now that I’ve come home—after sleeping two feet away from an IDF soldier who’s younger than me, hearing firsthand experiences, having them walk us through Nova and tell us about their friends who were killed—how could I come home after an experience like that and be anything other than supportive of Israel?

Although I wasn’t raised practicing the Jewish faith, I can now feel how it’s been ingrained in me growing up—through my grandparents, through my dad, lighting Hanukkah candles. These are my roots, and I want to continue Jewish rituals in my daily life.

After I returned, someone close to me told me outwardly that she’s anti-Zionist. She also told me, “You’re not really Jewish.” I felt hurt and betrayed. But here’s the thing: I was able to call friends from my trip who understood exactly how I felt. The conflict is polarizing, and it gets everyone really amped up. So, to have friends who can be level-headed about it—who were there—it matters.

If I could meet the donor who funded my trip, I would say: thank you. An experience like this—I will never get anywhere else. It was so unique and perfectly crafted.

I told the eight IDF soldiers we traveled with: “You will be with me like a handprint on my heart.” I’m trying to figure out a way to return to Israel—because the trip left such a powerful impact: the community, the air, the trees. Everything felt so fresh and alive. I hope people will continue supporting Birthright Israel so future generations can feel connected to our shared Jewish story.