By Sarah Baron
I’m tired. I’m tired because after being a Bruin for four years I am still only able to talk about my passion for Israel with extreme political nuance and trepidation while on my tippy-toes, and the word Zionist has all but disappeared from my vocabulary.
I grew up in Sacramento in a proud observant Jewish home with a loving family. Judaism is at the core of how I live my life; it is my foundation, it is my set of values, it is my culture, and it is my religion. In turn, the state of Israel represents the perseverance of my people, the continuation of my religious rituals and observance, and it physically represents the words in my prayers.
I first went to Israel after my sophomore year in high school, and when I walked off the plane, I felt one with my family, my traditions, my community. I saw the Western Wall and for the first time was in the literal presence of thousands of years of my ancestors’ history ““ the site toward which I faced when attending synagogue every Sabbath, every Saturday, both all the way back in Sacramento and at UCLA. I felt whole, and every time I return to Israel, I resume this sense of completion over and over again. The perfect word to describe my sentiments toward Israel is “˜Zionist.’ I am a Zionist.
Then I came to UCLA in the fall of 2008, and suddenly Zionist was a dirty word. Zionism was a term that was too uncomfortable to say unless in the presence of my Jewish peers, and even then in a defensive whispered tone with great explanation. When identifying as a Zionist, I acknowledge that I have immense pride in the Jewish people, that I believe that Jews have the right to self-determination. A Jewish state that strives to achieve and implement the values of my faith and my culture ““ not as a place of victimization some sort of reparation for the atrocities of World War II, but because it is the birthplace of Jewish religious ideology and way of life ““ is necessary and legitimate.
This submission is by no means an attempt to make a statement as to where borders should be drawn or to downplay the intricacies of hundreds of perspectives associated with the conflict in the Middle East. Nor am I ignorant of the absurdly complex history and implications thereof. I merely want to express what Israel means to me and thousands of my peers at UCLA, for once not in a political context, and for once in a public form without having to whisper.
Theodor Herzl, the father of modern Zionism, famously stated, “If you will it, it is no dream.” I will that when it comes time for the class of 2015 to graduate, they are not plagued with my exhaustion in this regard, and that all students at UCLA can express their religious and cultural pride with firm voices and unstrained toes.
Baron is a fourth-year political science student and the president of Hillel at UCLA.