Why I Keep Coming Back as a Birthright Israel Madricha

My twin sister, my brother and I were adopted from China and grew up in San Luis Obispo, California, near the ocean. My whole extended family is Ashkenazi Jewish, with a mix of Reform and Conservative. We kept kosher strictly in my home and observed Shabbat, and I had my bat mitzvah and went to Jewish summer camp.  

I started college at Sonoma State University, studying wine business with a minor in Jewish Studies. In 2022, I saw an advertisement for Birthright Israel on social media and thought: this is my chance. The trip was in May; I signed up in February. Then I told my mom. She said, “Oh my gosh, you're going to go without your siblings?” So, I got my brother and sister to apply, and the three of us went together, departing from LAX. 

Honestly, it felt so surreal. Growing up, I had always heard about Israel, prayed about Israel — but I had never seen it for myself. At times, Israel almost felt like an imaginary place. Now, finally being there, I felt like my soul was elevated. Hearing Hebrew spoken and not limited to text from the Torah was the biggest culture shock in the best way possible. 

One of my favorite moments was spending Shabbat in Jerusalem. When we walked to the Kotel that night, it was the first time in my life I didn’t see any cars. No one around on their phone, no noise. You could hear the people and nature. You really took a moment to pause and reflect and appreciate the beauty. When I finally saw the Kotel, I wept. It was this overwhelming realization: Israel is real. This history is our history. It's been there for millennia and it's miraculously still there. Birthright Israel gave me the chance to put all of that together. 

Coming back from the trip, I wanted to spend more time in Israel. I applied to the Master’s program in Nonprofit Management and Leadership at Hebrew University. I moved to Jerusalem in August 2023, two months before school started, so I could take Hebrew classes and adjust to living in Israel. 

I was in my dorm at the Hebrew University on October 7. I woke up to the siren and thought it was the kitchen smoke alarm and completely ignored it. Then it went off again, and I started getting text messages: there's a war going on now. The next day, I saw posts from people I considered friends — blaming Israel for the attack, siding with Hamas. It was atrocious to see that and think: how are these people my friends? They’re believing and spreading false propaganda from Hamas — even though I was the one physically in Israel, witnessing firsthand what was going on outside my window. 

Being in Israel, I knew that everyone in the country was feeling the same feelings — but also that we are resilient as a Jewish people, and that we deserve to keep living our life as best we can, honoring those who no longer could. Sometimes when the haters are making noise, it's actually cheering you on. That's how I felt. I was constantly posting on social media just to showcase: this is Israel. Whatever you may be seeing or believing — this is the truth and my reality. 

Now I work at Hillel. I've led two Birthright Israel trips and hope to lead many more. Through the Birthright Israel Fellows training and the Shalom Hartman Institute conference, I've had the chance to think deeply about what it means to be a trip leader, a Madricha. The Hartman Institute facilitated the most incredible discussions about identity and pluralism, constantly getting me to think about my own identity and how I’m going to help shape and support students on their first visit to Israel. 

At the training seminar, many people who worked in the secular world hadn’t been in touch with their Jewish identity or a Jewish community for a long time. Some said, “Wow, I haven’t done Shabbat since summer camp,” or “I haven’t been among this many Jews since Hillel at college five years ago.” For me, as someone who already works in Jewish communal life, it was so powerful and meaningful to see people tap back into the Jewish community. 

There are two parts to education: words and action. You can constantly explain something to someone, but if you don’t give them the chance to actually experience it, then there’s nothing tangible. That’s why Madrichim play such a special role. You’re the one supporting them, facilitating conversations, helping them discover their own identity and personal connection to Israel. You help them learn to connect with each other and know they're not alone in this world — that they have a Jewish community wherever they go. 

My personal story shapes my understanding. Growing up adopted, I sometimes felt othered. But the spaces where I felt most included were Jewish ones. When I lived in Israel, people asked me, "So, when are you making Aliyah?" — and I felt such a sense of belonging. This was my home. Being in Israel gives you a feeling that you can't get anywhere else. 

Being Jewish means we're a family, a people — united without being uniform. Students often ask me: “Am I Jewish enough? I don't celebrate this holiday, I don't observe that ritual.” I want them to know there are so many different ways to be Jewish. But we share the same values and morals. Birthright Israel opened me up to the breadth of the Jewish diaspora — Ethiopian Jews, South African Jews, Yemenite Jews, and so many other communities — each time I go back to Israel, I'm learning more and meeting more people. We’re all over, and everyone has their own story and background. 

This January, I was able to bring one of my youngest cousins with me on a trip I was leading. He's the first in his immediate family to visit Israel. His parents and grandparents had never been there. Afterward, he told me: "My life has changed now. I want to tell everyone I know about Israel and share my experience." 

That’s why supporting Birthright Israel matters. It gives participants so much that they want to pass along — to share the story of Israel with others. Birthright Israel gave me the gift of solidifying my lifelong connection to Judaism, a promise to unconditionally support the Jewish community, and a forever commitment to stand with Israel. We need to help future generations of the Jewish people to experience Israel. Without that physical connection, it's just words. And of course, it's just a little taste — because once you fall in love with Israel, you always be yearning to keep coming back.