Since January, I’ve attended three weddings. As the vows are being exchanged, my eyes become moist and I find myself fighting back tears. It’s true, I tear up easily, but there are true emotions behind the tears I shed during weddings. Why?
Jealousy? No – I’m too young to get married. Happiness? I’m happy that my friends have found someone they want to spend the rest of their lives with, but I don’t think that’s why I cry. Honestly, I don’t know why I get tears in my eyes. One thing that I do know is that weddings always remind me that I’m single and have been for a long time. Too long perhaps?
I’m 25 years old and have never been in a long term relationship and have never been in love. I blame it on my lifestyle. Basically, I’m selfish. Although the word “selfish” usually has a negative connotation, I see it as something positive. I’ve always been determined. Determined to find what it is I’m passionate about, determined to live my life to the fullest and determined to make a life for myself.
I’m evolving everyday. I’m not the person I was yesterday and I’m not the person I’ll be tomorrow. I’m constantly on the move. I’ve spent my twenties exploring the world. I need to figure out who I am before I open myself up and become “attached” to someone.
Some people spend their entire adult lives attached to a significant other. When one relationship dissolves, they soon find themselves entangled in another one. I have no right to judge the way others live their lives, but I do think that it’s important to know who you are. The only way to accomplish this is to take time to explore. Alone.
Through exploration, you’ll figure out what you like, what you don’t like, what your passions are and what you want to accomplish in life. Some people have no desire to explore. They have a job that makes good money, live in a nice neighborhood, have quality friends and a mate that they love. I’d venture to guess that person described above doesn’t truly know who they are. I’m not going to pretend to understand why they’re content. I’m obviously not that person.
I’m constantly finding new opportunities and packing up my oversized backpack and sturdy suitcase. I’m a minimalist. I don’t collect stuff and feel genuinely guilty when I come across clothes that I rarely wear. At this moment, my life is portable. The saying, “You’re young, now is the time to do these things,” couldn’t be truer. But, I’m beginning to wonder – am I missing my chance at love by being too consumed in my own life?
I just spent seven months living in New York and didn’t go on a single date. I wasn’t in the mindset. I never went out searching for a guy. New York is full of gorgeous, intelligent and amazing men but I had blinders on and had no desire to break into the dating scene. I moved to New York for me; I couldn’t afford to let a guy get in the way of figuring out my life’s path. As a result, I now have a clear view of what I want to do with my life and what I’m doing next. As for a mate…I have a fairly good idea of who I’m looking for, it just hasn’t been the right time yet.
Being in the right mind frame is important. So is timing. If it’s bad timing, the mind can’t fully commit, neither can the heart.
If I’m constantly leaping from one place to the next, how can my heart and mind remain in the present and be open to exploring a relationship? How can a healthy relationship be maintained if both people are still figuring out who they are? How can I expect the other person to trust that I’m committed? More importantly, how can any conclusion be reached if neither side truly expresses how they feel? How can I wish for a long term relationship if I’m incapable of expressing my feelings? I have no problem writing what I feel; it’s the speaking that gets me choked up.
I crush. A lot. Crushing is innocent. Feelings aren’t expressed. I’m beginning to think I like the chase more than I like the actual prospect of a relationship. This isn’t how I want it to be but I think the situation has repeated itself because I just haven’t come across the right guy or it wasn't the right moment. I’ve dated guys but I always find something wrong, or the relationship switches to friend mode, or never goes past it.
Where’s the guy who is just as into figuring out himself as he is figuring out who we can be together?
Where’s the guy who searches for adventure, is passionate about life and who loves engaging in intellectual conversations?
Where’s the guy whose day is made better by a trip to the beach, who loves exploring nature and who has no problem telling me what he’s thinking?
Where’s the guy who makes my whole body smile?
I have no answers. I can only hope that once I have a secure handle on who I am and where my life is, everything will fall into place. I’m closer than I was a year ago, but I’m not quite “there” yet.
Meanwhile, I’ll continue evaluating my life and wiping the tears from my eyes as I listen to vows being exchanged at the numerous weddings that I will undoubtedly be attending in the near future.
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Scared/Worried for Our Future...
**Below is something I wrote on February 4th, 2008 after substitute teaching at a charter school in Brooklyn, New York. I had originally sent it to my friends and family in an e-mail but I just realized that I never posted it on my blog.**
If the kids of today are our future, things sure do look grim. After substitute teaching at a charter school in Brooklyn today, I can honestly say that I'm scared and worried about our future!
I will attempt to describe to you the mayhem and absolute craziness that I experienced today. However, I know that whatever I write wont do my experience justice. Yes, I'm being a bit dramatic, but I feel that this issue needs to be expressed. PLEASE READ THE WHOLE THING...the education system needs to be reformed and I want to hear what your response is to my NY teaching experiences!
First off, let me just say that I am not a mean person. I do not get angry or have a temper. I do not yell. Normally, I'd say these are good characteristics. Today, they hindered me. Today, I had girls shake their fingers, suck their teeth (or whatever it is it's called when people are mad and make a sucking noise), tilt their head and curse at me. I heard, "Oh no you didn't," "Why you given me attitude?" "Why you aksing me to do that?" "I aint gonna try" The list goes on and on... Another favorite of the day "It's mad hot in here." and "Why we gotta do mad work?" Apparently mad is another word for "really" or "a lot?" Is that in a rap song or something???? *please make note of the grammar and spelling errors...I wrote it as they said it.
I only mentioned girls because they were the ones giving me the attitude you see in movies. The boys were just as terrible though. Today I yelled. I had to. The kids were talking and disrespecting me and not doing their work. Did it matter? NO! I yelled and they continued to talk as I yelled. At one point an administrator came in and yelled at them. For some reason that woman actually sounded really mean when she yelled. I noticed a meanness that was not present in my yell. I meant what I said and the kids could care less. Papers were being thrown across the room, little work was being done, and not once was there a whole minute of silence. I'm still in shock! The saddest part is that today, I "taught" 6th and 8th grades. The kids weren't even in high school yet and they're already acting like delinquents!!!!!!! TERRIBLE!
As terrible as it sounds...New Yorkers in the inner city are breeding delinquents. I realize that children are a product of their home life. Something must be done. I give "mad props" to the teachers and administrators who are putting their hearts into educating and bettering the lives of these kids. I realized today that I am not one of those people. I do not have the patience nor do I have the dedication. Well...I have it to some extent. I'm actually tutoring 7th and 8th graders in math up in Harlem Monday through Thursday. They're at a charter school but they are amazing kids! I know that not all children in the inner city are like the ones I had today. Today was the second time I've taught at a charter school in Brooklyn. What I saw today is not rare. It is the norm. I've heard that the students at public schools are even worse. I can't even begin to imagine. I'm not new to teaching. I've taught in Greece and I was a substitute teacher in Burbank. Both are completely different worlds than inner city teaching in New York!
Those of you that are teachers...I COMMEND YOU! I know how difficult it can be and that someone needs to do it! THANK YOU! Just don't move to NY. OR, move to NY and work your magic with these kids. They need it! Any desire I once had to be a teacher has been extinguished. And no, not simply from today. I know teaching isn't my passion.
Sorry if this post was long and harsh. I just felt like I had to share my experiences with you. I'd love to hear what you think about all of this!
~Yosefa
If the kids of today are our future, things sure do look grim. After substitute teaching at a charter school in Brooklyn today, I can honestly say that I'm scared and worried about our future!
I will attempt to describe to you the mayhem and absolute craziness that I experienced today. However, I know that whatever I write wont do my experience justice. Yes, I'm being a bit dramatic, but I feel that this issue needs to be expressed. PLEASE READ THE WHOLE THING...the education system needs to be reformed and I want to hear what your response is to my NY teaching experiences!
First off, let me just say that I am not a mean person. I do not get angry or have a temper. I do not yell. Normally, I'd say these are good characteristics. Today, they hindered me. Today, I had girls shake their fingers, suck their teeth (or whatever it is it's called when people are mad and make a sucking noise), tilt their head and curse at me. I heard, "Oh no you didn't," "Why you given me attitude?" "Why you aksing me to do that?" "I aint gonna try" The list goes on and on... Another favorite of the day "It's mad hot in here." and "Why we gotta do mad work?" Apparently mad is another word for "really" or "a lot?" Is that in a rap song or something???? *please make note of the grammar and spelling errors...I wrote it as they said it.
I only mentioned girls because they were the ones giving me the attitude you see in movies. The boys were just as terrible though. Today I yelled. I had to. The kids were talking and disrespecting me and not doing their work. Did it matter? NO! I yelled and they continued to talk as I yelled. At one point an administrator came in and yelled at them. For some reason that woman actually sounded really mean when she yelled. I noticed a meanness that was not present in my yell. I meant what I said and the kids could care less. Papers were being thrown across the room, little work was being done, and not once was there a whole minute of silence. I'm still in shock! The saddest part is that today, I "taught" 6th and 8th grades. The kids weren't even in high school yet and they're already acting like delinquents!!!!!!! TERRIBLE!
As terrible as it sounds...New Yorkers in the inner city are breeding delinquents. I realize that children are a product of their home life. Something must be done. I give "mad props" to the teachers and administrators who are putting their hearts into educating and bettering the lives of these kids. I realized today that I am not one of those people. I do not have the patience nor do I have the dedication. Well...I have it to some extent. I'm actually tutoring 7th and 8th graders in math up in Harlem Monday through Thursday. They're at a charter school but they are amazing kids! I know that not all children in the inner city are like the ones I had today. Today was the second time I've taught at a charter school in Brooklyn. What I saw today is not rare. It is the norm. I've heard that the students at public schools are even worse. I can't even begin to imagine. I'm not new to teaching. I've taught in Greece and I was a substitute teacher in Burbank. Both are completely different worlds than inner city teaching in New York!
Those of you that are teachers...I COMMEND YOU! I know how difficult it can be and that someone needs to do it! THANK YOU! Just don't move to NY. OR, move to NY and work your magic with these kids. They need it! Any desire I once had to be a teacher has been extinguished. And no, not simply from today. I know teaching isn't my passion.
Sorry if this post was long and harsh. I just felt like I had to share my experiences with you. I'd love to hear what you think about all of this!
~Yosefa
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Puerto Rico through my eyes...
**Quick update since it’s nearly impossible to be up-to-date with what I’m doing or where I am – NY was great but my career ambitions molded into something else and I moved back to California yesterday – I’ve got a summer job with EF (a company that does exchange programs) – I’ll be the Director of their international camp in Long Beach starting June 14!! At the end of August I’ll be moving to Vermont to attend SIT (School for International Training) Graduate Institute where I’ll be obtaining my Masters in Intercultural Management/International Education! I just returned from a trip to Puerto Rico so below is my travel blog!**
I firmly believe that the best way to experience a new place is to spend time with a local. When my friend Adam (I worked with him at the Museum of Jewish Heritage in NY) told me he was going to Puerto Rico for a week to visit his uncle, I jumped at the chance to go. The best way to experience another place is to live there. The second best way to explore a new place is to spend time with locals. I’ve never been a “tourist” and never will be.
Technically part of the United States, Puerto Rico is the most foreign-feeling place using the U.S. Dollar that I’ve ever visited. This marks the first year that citizens of Puerto Rico will be able to vote in the national election. And now, Puerto Rico as I saw it…
“La Isla del Encanto” – (The Island of Love) – as stated on the license plate of every vehicle in Puerto Rico.
I LOVED Pinones. I only spent an hour in the seaside village. However, that hour spent at a table of an outdoor café with a view of the water, an amazing chilled alcoholic beverage and a meal of fresh fish will forever be engrained in my memory. After waking up in New York City among the skyscrapers and starless sky, I had to pinch myself in order to ensure that I truly was sitting across from bright green and blue water and palm trees. Amazing what a 3.5 hr plane ride can do.
I LOVED Old San Juan. The oldest city in the United States, San Juan is rife with charm, beauty and history. Blue brick roads wind throughout the city. Lined with brightly-colored houses and stores adorned with ornate iron, archways, custom tiles and courtyards, the streets give off a European feel. I took countless pictures of doorways and windows. If I ever have enough money to design my own home, I’ll be sure to give my photos of Old San Juan to the architect! The fort at the outskirts of the city was beautiful. The history was overwhelming. So were the ocean views.
I LOVED El Yunque (the rainforest). As I was driving up the 1.5 lane road through the rainforest, I kept saying how much the surroundings resembled that of the jungle cruise ride at Disneyland. Crazy to compare the Puerto Rican rainforest to a ride at an amusement park, but it’s all I had to reference. Colorful flowers, wide leaves, waterfalls, pools and tropical plants abounded. I heard the calls of tropical birds but they were only heard, not seen. The only things that prevented me from feeling as though I was trekking through the middle of the rainforest were the paved paths that marked the trails, concrete signs that stated “Forest Service US Department of Agriculture” and the concrete huts with fire pits interspersed along the trail.
I LOVED that the locals were friendly.
I LOVED that the speed limit on the main highway I drove on was 50 mph. With gas prices as high as they are, you can imagine my excitement when I had only used a half a tank of gas when it came time to return the rental car.
I LOVED that people rode horses bareback along the side of my car in Fajardo.
I LOVED that the people spoke Spanish and were as colorful as the houses in Old San Juan.
I LOVED Adam’s gun-toting, dual cell phone carrying, BMW driving, clean freak, charismatic, businessman, generous and comical uncle. Yes, he carries a gun. In his pocket. All the time. Well, if it’s not in his pocket, it’s sitting next to his leg in the car, or on the counter in his kitchen, or on his desk. I tried to ignore the fact that he carried a concealed weapon but my curiosity and fear took over and I asked him why he had the gun. He informed me that there are many poor people and fewer rich.
“We’re in a recession right now,” he said. “People want money and they rob those that have it. I have the gun for protection.”
He has never used it and hopes he never has to. He claimed that Puerto Rico is very strict when it comes to weapon licenses. I think he told me this to reassure me that Puerto Rico has good laws. Instead, it made me wonder how many people are walking the streets of Puerto Rico with illegal guns in their pocket. I never got used to the gun.
Guns aside, Tio Edward was extremely hospitable. In spite of his busy work schedule, he made time to pick us up and drop us off at places. His five bedroom house in Carolina with an immaculately stocked fridge (all beverages were lined up in rows), state-of-the-art entertainment system, pool, jacuzzi, palm trees and bbq, was a welcoming addition to my care-free vacation.
I LOVED that the temperature in the morning was the same as when I went to sleep.
I LOVED riding the bus from Isla Verde to Old San Juan. The 45 minute ride only cost $.75. It felt good to venture out of the air conditioned BMW that Tio Edward drove. Puerto Rico looked different through the windows of an overcrowded city bus.
I LOVED the middle-aged American women that Adam and I “rescued.” On our way down from the rainforest, we saw two distraught women arguing on the road. I pulled over and asked if they needed help. The calmer of the two explained that they had been hiking for two hours and ended up emerging from the forest in a different place from where they started. Between explaining their predicament to me and them getting into my car, they bickered about whether or not the other one was hysterical. In my opinion, one was semi calm and the other was slightly hysterical. But of course, the hysterical one refused to accept it and the other one kept telling her she needed to calm down. After driving in two different directions, we finally found their car. The entire event could have been prevented if there was a sign notifying people that the trails did not loop. Those ladies belong on The Amazing Race; they won’t win but they’ll definitely be entertaining.
I LOVED lying on the white-sand beach with palm trees on either side of me, crystal blue water in front of me and a book in my hand. The transformation of my skin from light brown to dark brown was great as well.
My one beef with Puerto Rico was that the humidity caused my curly hair to uncontrollably frizz and the mosquitoes ate me alive. In spite of those two issues, I fell in love with Puerto Rico!
I firmly believe that the best way to experience a new place is to spend time with a local. When my friend Adam (I worked with him at the Museum of Jewish Heritage in NY) told me he was going to Puerto Rico for a week to visit his uncle, I jumped at the chance to go. The best way to experience another place is to live there. The second best way to explore a new place is to spend time with locals. I’ve never been a “tourist” and never will be.
Technically part of the United States, Puerto Rico is the most foreign-feeling place using the U.S. Dollar that I’ve ever visited. This marks the first year that citizens of Puerto Rico will be able to vote in the national election. And now, Puerto Rico as I saw it…
“La Isla del Encanto” – (The Island of Love) – as stated on the license plate of every vehicle in Puerto Rico.
I LOVED Pinones. I only spent an hour in the seaside village. However, that hour spent at a table of an outdoor café with a view of the water, an amazing chilled alcoholic beverage and a meal of fresh fish will forever be engrained in my memory. After waking up in New York City among the skyscrapers and starless sky, I had to pinch myself in order to ensure that I truly was sitting across from bright green and blue water and palm trees. Amazing what a 3.5 hr plane ride can do.
I LOVED Old San Juan. The oldest city in the United States, San Juan is rife with charm, beauty and history. Blue brick roads wind throughout the city. Lined with brightly-colored houses and stores adorned with ornate iron, archways, custom tiles and courtyards, the streets give off a European feel. I took countless pictures of doorways and windows. If I ever have enough money to design my own home, I’ll be sure to give my photos of Old San Juan to the architect! The fort at the outskirts of the city was beautiful. The history was overwhelming. So were the ocean views.
I LOVED El Yunque (the rainforest). As I was driving up the 1.5 lane road through the rainforest, I kept saying how much the surroundings resembled that of the jungle cruise ride at Disneyland. Crazy to compare the Puerto Rican rainforest to a ride at an amusement park, but it’s all I had to reference. Colorful flowers, wide leaves, waterfalls, pools and tropical plants abounded. I heard the calls of tropical birds but they were only heard, not seen. The only things that prevented me from feeling as though I was trekking through the middle of the rainforest were the paved paths that marked the trails, concrete signs that stated “Forest Service US Department of Agriculture” and the concrete huts with fire pits interspersed along the trail.
I LOVED that the locals were friendly.
I LOVED that the speed limit on the main highway I drove on was 50 mph. With gas prices as high as they are, you can imagine my excitement when I had only used a half a tank of gas when it came time to return the rental car.
I LOVED that people rode horses bareback along the side of my car in Fajardo.
I LOVED that the people spoke Spanish and were as colorful as the houses in Old San Juan.
I LOVED Adam’s gun-toting, dual cell phone carrying, BMW driving, clean freak, charismatic, businessman, generous and comical uncle. Yes, he carries a gun. In his pocket. All the time. Well, if it’s not in his pocket, it’s sitting next to his leg in the car, or on the counter in his kitchen, or on his desk. I tried to ignore the fact that he carried a concealed weapon but my curiosity and fear took over and I asked him why he had the gun. He informed me that there are many poor people and fewer rich.
“We’re in a recession right now,” he said. “People want money and they rob those that have it. I have the gun for protection.”
He has never used it and hopes he never has to. He claimed that Puerto Rico is very strict when it comes to weapon licenses. I think he told me this to reassure me that Puerto Rico has good laws. Instead, it made me wonder how many people are walking the streets of Puerto Rico with illegal guns in their pocket. I never got used to the gun.
Guns aside, Tio Edward was extremely hospitable. In spite of his busy work schedule, he made time to pick us up and drop us off at places. His five bedroom house in Carolina with an immaculately stocked fridge (all beverages were lined up in rows), state-of-the-art entertainment system, pool, jacuzzi, palm trees and bbq, was a welcoming addition to my care-free vacation.
I LOVED that the temperature in the morning was the same as when I went to sleep.
I LOVED riding the bus from Isla Verde to Old San Juan. The 45 minute ride only cost $.75. It felt good to venture out of the air conditioned BMW that Tio Edward drove. Puerto Rico looked different through the windows of an overcrowded city bus.
I LOVED the middle-aged American women that Adam and I “rescued.” On our way down from the rainforest, we saw two distraught women arguing on the road. I pulled over and asked if they needed help. The calmer of the two explained that they had been hiking for two hours and ended up emerging from the forest in a different place from where they started. Between explaining their predicament to me and them getting into my car, they bickered about whether or not the other one was hysterical. In my opinion, one was semi calm and the other was slightly hysterical. But of course, the hysterical one refused to accept it and the other one kept telling her she needed to calm down. After driving in two different directions, we finally found their car. The entire event could have been prevented if there was a sign notifying people that the trails did not loop. Those ladies belong on The Amazing Race; they won’t win but they’ll definitely be entertaining.
I LOVED lying on the white-sand beach with palm trees on either side of me, crystal blue water in front of me and a book in my hand. The transformation of my skin from light brown to dark brown was great as well.
My one beef with Puerto Rico was that the humidity caused my curly hair to uncontrollably frizz and the mosquitoes ate me alive. In spite of those two issues, I fell in love with Puerto Rico!
Friday, April 11, 2008
My life's next journey...
It has been too long since my last entry. I blame the absense on my inability to translate my feelings and current life situation into coherent sentences. Numerous times I tried to write an entry but couldn't string together the first sentence. I'm usually wordy, not wordless! Even now, as I sit here at work trying to write this entry, I'm not sure where to start and what to say.
Ok - in case you haven't heard, I found the most AMAZING graduate school. It's called SIT (School for International Training) Graduate Institute. Check out the Web site - www.worldlearning.org. I stumbled upon the program and then applied a couple of weeks later. I've since been accepted and am in the process of figuring out my finances. I'll either be moving to Vermont for the program this September or the following year. I truly feel as though I've found a way to combine my passions and I'm excited for my future!
Below is my admissions essay. Feel free to comment!!!!
“Your enthusiasm inspires people,” says the fortune in my wallet.
Nestled between bank cards and folded bills lies the message that is the guiding force for my life. If I carried my passport with me every day, I’d place the fortune amidst the colorful stamps that fill its pages. Intercultural experiences have ignited my passion within and have propelled me on a journey to inspire others to experience life beyond the comfort of their home. A Masters in Intercultural Service, Leadership and Management from SIT would enable me to work in an environment in which I could encourage intercultural exchanges and inspire social change.
With an American mother and an Israeli father, I was raised in a culturally-rich and diverse environment; every effort was made to expand my horizons far beyond the almond orchards and dairies of the rural California farm town in which I grew up. I did not always have the opportunity to venture to different parts of the world, but my parents had and through their eyes, I traveled the globe. As a child, I trick-or-treated for UNICEF, ate gyros at Greek festivals, danced at Native American powwows and brought falafel to school for “favorite food” assignments. At home we discussed world issues and cross-cultural opportunities, and I was taught to believe that with experience, knowledge, understanding and respect, I could make a difference in the world and that peace is possible.
I learned to appreciate my colorful upbringing, to embrace it and to expand upon it. After graduating from the University of California, Irvine with a B.A. in Psychology, I set out to experience life abroad. I made a conscious effort to immerse myself in new surroundings as a participant in the life of the community, rather than as a tourist.
In 2005 I moved to Greece and obtained my certificate for Teaching English as a Foreign Language (TEFL) from Via Lingua in Corinth, Greece. I was then assigned to teach English in a fishing village on the Greek island of Evia. My Greek students taught me about their culture and customs and I taught them English.
I then moved to Israel where I enrolled in an ulpan program at Kibbutz Yotvata. I spent six months working and learning Hebrew with people from more than 10 countries.
Those six months were among the best of my life. Kibbutz Yotvata is located in southern Israel, not far from the Jordanian and Egyptian borders and miles from the conflict and civil unrest of the Gaza Strip. Date palm trees were scattered throughout the land and the enchanting desert mountains changed color at sunrise and sunset. I lived in a desert paradise.
My fellow ulpanists were just as colorful as my surroundings. Kibbutz Yotvata attracts people from all over the world: Sweden, Germany, Austria, Russia, Argentina, Brazil…the list goes on and on. In the beginning, we relied heavily on English and communicated through hand gestures and facial expressions. Some had flawless English, others could barely be understood, and a few spoke no English at all. The beauty of the ulpan program was that half the week was spent learning Hebrew.
Through total immersion in Hebrew, we learned to communicate with each other and to navigate the streets of Israel. If we didn’t know the Hebrew word, we threw in English. Through stories about life in our respective countries, I learned about other cultures and life in other parts of the world.
Kibbutz Yotvata, where many of the permanent members of the kibbutz are from other countries, presents a microcosm of cultural understanding in the middle of a war-torn country. Kids run free, many languages are spoken and doors are left open. At times, I was so caught up in life in this colorful desert oasis that I didn’t think about the strife on the other side of the country. When soldiers came home to the kibbutz after facing weeks of conflict and cultural unrest, I was shocked back to reality.
The situation in the Middle East has always been an issue close to my heart. My Israeli father has lived most of his life in America, although he served in the Israeli army and knows the Arab-Israeli conflict first hand. My mother spent her twenties traveling throughout the Middle East collecting traditional Palestinian dresses, learning to cook Lebanese food and speaking Arabic. Although my mother looks Middle Eastern and is very interested in the culture, her grandparents were Russian Jews.
Both my mother and father believe in the importance of cultural understanding and I believe most people in the Middle East want peace. In September, 2003 my mother and I participated in the Oseh Shalom/Sanea Al-Salam Peacemakers Weekend at Camp Tawonga near Yosemite National Park. It was Camp Tawonga’s first Jewish Palestinian family peacemakers weekend. Through dialogues, I learned about how the conflict in the Middle East affected people of all ages and ethnicities. The experience remained fresh in my mind while I was living in Israel.
I left Israel with a profound love for language, cultural exchange and with friends around the world. Since my return to the United States in 2006, I have searched for ways to expand and take advantage of my experiences abroad. Back in California, with visions of inspiring people via travel writing, I enrolled in the Extension Certificate Program in Print Journalism at UCLA. Upon completion of the program, I moved to New York with the goal of immersing myself in the publishing industry.
During the short time I’ve lived in New York, I’ve interned at a travel publishing company, tutored and served as a substitute teacher in inner city schools, and worked at The Museum of Jewish Heritage. I hear a handful of languages in the workplace and on the street. Living in New York City among people from around the world, I’ve come to realize that there is more I can do to inspire people than simply writing about my own experiences. Itching for an educational and meaningful opportunity abroad, I looked into the Peace Corps. While searching the Peace Corps website, I came across SIT.
The courses SIT offers, the diverse student body and faculty, and the overall atmosphere and mission of SIT intrigue me. Through courses such as “Cultural Activism” and “Intercultural Communication” I will be able to draw upon my past experiences and cultivate my passion. Exposed to SIT’s outstanding courses and a culturally-rich environment, I anticipate contributing to classroom discussions and making good use of the intercultural atmosphere.
Ultimately, I would like to manage exchange programs that emphasize intercultural understanding and service, and to implement programs that will enrich the lives of everyone involved. I am enthusiastic about the cultural awareness that comes from traveling and experiencing other cultures. It is through such experiences that peace is possible. Getting a Masters in Intercultural Service, Leadership and Management from SIT would enable me to make a difference, one passport stamp at a time.
Ok - in case you haven't heard, I found the most AMAZING graduate school. It's called SIT (School for International Training) Graduate Institute. Check out the Web site - www.worldlearning.org. I stumbled upon the program and then applied a couple of weeks later. I've since been accepted and am in the process of figuring out my finances. I'll either be moving to Vermont for the program this September or the following year. I truly feel as though I've found a way to combine my passions and I'm excited for my future!
Below is my admissions essay. Feel free to comment!!!!
“Your enthusiasm inspires people,” says the fortune in my wallet.
Nestled between bank cards and folded bills lies the message that is the guiding force for my life. If I carried my passport with me every day, I’d place the fortune amidst the colorful stamps that fill its pages. Intercultural experiences have ignited my passion within and have propelled me on a journey to inspire others to experience life beyond the comfort of their home. A Masters in Intercultural Service, Leadership and Management from SIT would enable me to work in an environment in which I could encourage intercultural exchanges and inspire social change.
With an American mother and an Israeli father, I was raised in a culturally-rich and diverse environment; every effort was made to expand my horizons far beyond the almond orchards and dairies of the rural California farm town in which I grew up. I did not always have the opportunity to venture to different parts of the world, but my parents had and through their eyes, I traveled the globe. As a child, I trick-or-treated for UNICEF, ate gyros at Greek festivals, danced at Native American powwows and brought falafel to school for “favorite food” assignments. At home we discussed world issues and cross-cultural opportunities, and I was taught to believe that with experience, knowledge, understanding and respect, I could make a difference in the world and that peace is possible.
I learned to appreciate my colorful upbringing, to embrace it and to expand upon it. After graduating from the University of California, Irvine with a B.A. in Psychology, I set out to experience life abroad. I made a conscious effort to immerse myself in new surroundings as a participant in the life of the community, rather than as a tourist.
In 2005 I moved to Greece and obtained my certificate for Teaching English as a Foreign Language (TEFL) from Via Lingua in Corinth, Greece. I was then assigned to teach English in a fishing village on the Greek island of Evia. My Greek students taught me about their culture and customs and I taught them English.
I then moved to Israel where I enrolled in an ulpan program at Kibbutz Yotvata. I spent six months working and learning Hebrew with people from more than 10 countries.
Those six months were among the best of my life. Kibbutz Yotvata is located in southern Israel, not far from the Jordanian and Egyptian borders and miles from the conflict and civil unrest of the Gaza Strip. Date palm trees were scattered throughout the land and the enchanting desert mountains changed color at sunrise and sunset. I lived in a desert paradise.
My fellow ulpanists were just as colorful as my surroundings. Kibbutz Yotvata attracts people from all over the world: Sweden, Germany, Austria, Russia, Argentina, Brazil…the list goes on and on. In the beginning, we relied heavily on English and communicated through hand gestures and facial expressions. Some had flawless English, others could barely be understood, and a few spoke no English at all. The beauty of the ulpan program was that half the week was spent learning Hebrew.
Through total immersion in Hebrew, we learned to communicate with each other and to navigate the streets of Israel. If we didn’t know the Hebrew word, we threw in English. Through stories about life in our respective countries, I learned about other cultures and life in other parts of the world.
Kibbutz Yotvata, where many of the permanent members of the kibbutz are from other countries, presents a microcosm of cultural understanding in the middle of a war-torn country. Kids run free, many languages are spoken and doors are left open. At times, I was so caught up in life in this colorful desert oasis that I didn’t think about the strife on the other side of the country. When soldiers came home to the kibbutz after facing weeks of conflict and cultural unrest, I was shocked back to reality.
The situation in the Middle East has always been an issue close to my heart. My Israeli father has lived most of his life in America, although he served in the Israeli army and knows the Arab-Israeli conflict first hand. My mother spent her twenties traveling throughout the Middle East collecting traditional Palestinian dresses, learning to cook Lebanese food and speaking Arabic. Although my mother looks Middle Eastern and is very interested in the culture, her grandparents were Russian Jews.
Both my mother and father believe in the importance of cultural understanding and I believe most people in the Middle East want peace. In September, 2003 my mother and I participated in the Oseh Shalom/Sanea Al-Salam Peacemakers Weekend at Camp Tawonga near Yosemite National Park. It was Camp Tawonga’s first Jewish Palestinian family peacemakers weekend. Through dialogues, I learned about how the conflict in the Middle East affected people of all ages and ethnicities. The experience remained fresh in my mind while I was living in Israel.
I left Israel with a profound love for language, cultural exchange and with friends around the world. Since my return to the United States in 2006, I have searched for ways to expand and take advantage of my experiences abroad. Back in California, with visions of inspiring people via travel writing, I enrolled in the Extension Certificate Program in Print Journalism at UCLA. Upon completion of the program, I moved to New York with the goal of immersing myself in the publishing industry.
During the short time I’ve lived in New York, I’ve interned at a travel publishing company, tutored and served as a substitute teacher in inner city schools, and worked at The Museum of Jewish Heritage. I hear a handful of languages in the workplace and on the street. Living in New York City among people from around the world, I’ve come to realize that there is more I can do to inspire people than simply writing about my own experiences. Itching for an educational and meaningful opportunity abroad, I looked into the Peace Corps. While searching the Peace Corps website, I came across SIT.
The courses SIT offers, the diverse student body and faculty, and the overall atmosphere and mission of SIT intrigue me. Through courses such as “Cultural Activism” and “Intercultural Communication” I will be able to draw upon my past experiences and cultivate my passion. Exposed to SIT’s outstanding courses and a culturally-rich environment, I anticipate contributing to classroom discussions and making good use of the intercultural atmosphere.
Ultimately, I would like to manage exchange programs that emphasize intercultural understanding and service, and to implement programs that will enrich the lives of everyone involved. I am enthusiastic about the cultural awareness that comes from traveling and experiencing other cultures. It is through such experiences that peace is possible. Getting a Masters in Intercultural Service, Leadership and Management from SIT would enable me to make a difference, one passport stamp at a time.
Sunday, January 6, 2008
LOVE in A Small Town
My mind and heart are full of massive smiles, amazing words and true happiness and love for those people that I grew up with in Escalon, California. I don't even know where to begin.
Last night I attended my friend Katie's wedding. I have known Katie and her amazing family since freshman year of high school. We ran cross country together, worked side by side in her family's pizza parlor, studied for history tests, ate lunch together, and laughed together. Like most of our friends in high school, neither of us had boyfriends. We were too busy focusing on our futures. Turns out, it took her 23 years to meet the right guy but when she did, she never looked back. They got engaged a few months ago and since then, I haven't been able to quell my excitement. Although Katie has traveled extensively and attended college in Ohio, she found her way back to Escalon and found her now husband locally. I knew that the wedding would be special and that it would bring together many people from Escalon whom I haven't seen in years.
I've never seen anyone SO truly happy in my life! As she and Dave stood in front of a couple hundred people at the church, their happiness radiated the entire room. Not only were their smiles huge but for a moment I was worried that Katie would fall forward because she was leaning towards Dave while their vows were being recited. The love between the two was apparent.
The love between parents and children was also apparent. Katie's father greeted us at the church with tears in his eyes. Her mother excitedly told us about an intimate moment Katie and Dave shared with each other. I witnessed my own mother wipe the tears from her eyes during the ceremony and the smile on my father's face was precious. I realized how much marriage means to parents and I realized how much I want to find someone to spend the rest of my life with. Someone who I can be adventurous with. Someone who makes my entire body smile. Someone who brings tears to my father's eyes.
The wedding reception served as a town reunion. I saw people I haven't seen in years. We took pictures and exchanged stories about our post-Escalon lives. I met fiances and boyfriends. Danced side by side school administrators, friends' parents and even caught the bouquet. I swear I was standing in the back with no intention of even trying to catch it. I just happened to stick up my arm and the next thing I knew I was holding a bunch of flowers! But hey, as Katie's mother told me...it was meant to be.
Anywho, being surrounded by such great people truly made me thankful for the unique upbringing I had. As much as I hated living in a small town, I've come to realize how much of a positive impact it has had on my life. I'm still trying to figure out why everyone in town remembers my family and I. We kept a low profile. My sister and I were fairly shy and I know that I didn't really "come into my own" until I went away to college. Yet, people remember us. Maybe it's because my sister and I are twins. Maybe it's because we have interesting names, or because we're the only Jews in town, or maybe it's because my family looks slightly different from the average person in Escalon. Who knows. Somehow we've made an impact on them. More importantly though, they've made an impact on me.
Below is my tribute to small town life.
I'm a world traveler and pride myself in being able to pick up and move wherever it is my heart desires. One would never know that I spent a large chunk of my life so far living in small towns in Northern California.
I consider Escalon, a town that once had a population of 5,000 people, as my childhood home. I spent my high school years engrossed in my classes and extra-curricular activities. I formed friendships that are sure to last a lifetime and memories that continue to make me smile and laugh.
While I loved my friends in Escalon, I can't even begin to tell you how many times my sister and I complained to our parents about living in a small, ugly farm town where there was nothing to do. My mother had grown up in Palos Verdes, a beautiful neighborhood overlooking the ocean in Southern California. My father was born in Israel and spent his childhood at the beach and running through the hills. We could never understand how both of them could go from such beauty to the cow-filled town of Escalon. It wasn't until I moved away for college that I began to appreciate the small town life.
Upon my return to town on school breaks, I found myself looking in every car I passed and waving to people I recognized. A trip to the market became a mini reunion and lunch at Pizza Plus was like eating at a friend's house. Conversations with friends' parents were amazing and laughing with high school friends made my stomach hurt. I began to realize how great it was to know people everywhere I went and how comforting it was to know that if you left the house without locking the door, your stuff would still be there when you returned.
My parents now live 1.5 hrs from Escalon, but each time I return to Northern California, I drive through Escalon, eat at Pizza Plus and I make sure to peer through the car window as I make my way down McHenry Ave. I appreciate it now. I can understand why my parents chose to raise children in the small town, away from the violence and corruption of the big city. I cherish my small-town upbringing and wouldn't mind nestling in to a different small town at some point down the road!
Cheers to small towns, amazing friendships, and true love!
Last night I attended my friend Katie's wedding. I have known Katie and her amazing family since freshman year of high school. We ran cross country together, worked side by side in her family's pizza parlor, studied for history tests, ate lunch together, and laughed together. Like most of our friends in high school, neither of us had boyfriends. We were too busy focusing on our futures. Turns out, it took her 23 years to meet the right guy but when she did, she never looked back. They got engaged a few months ago and since then, I haven't been able to quell my excitement. Although Katie has traveled extensively and attended college in Ohio, she found her way back to Escalon and found her now husband locally. I knew that the wedding would be special and that it would bring together many people from Escalon whom I haven't seen in years.
I've never seen anyone SO truly happy in my life! As she and Dave stood in front of a couple hundred people at the church, their happiness radiated the entire room. Not only were their smiles huge but for a moment I was worried that Katie would fall forward because she was leaning towards Dave while their vows were being recited. The love between the two was apparent.
The love between parents and children was also apparent. Katie's father greeted us at the church with tears in his eyes. Her mother excitedly told us about an intimate moment Katie and Dave shared with each other. I witnessed my own mother wipe the tears from her eyes during the ceremony and the smile on my father's face was precious. I realized how much marriage means to parents and I realized how much I want to find someone to spend the rest of my life with. Someone who I can be adventurous with. Someone who makes my entire body smile. Someone who brings tears to my father's eyes.
The wedding reception served as a town reunion. I saw people I haven't seen in years. We took pictures and exchanged stories about our post-Escalon lives. I met fiances and boyfriends. Danced side by side school administrators, friends' parents and even caught the bouquet. I swear I was standing in the back with no intention of even trying to catch it. I just happened to stick up my arm and the next thing I knew I was holding a bunch of flowers! But hey, as Katie's mother told me...it was meant to be.
Anywho, being surrounded by such great people truly made me thankful for the unique upbringing I had. As much as I hated living in a small town, I've come to realize how much of a positive impact it has had on my life. I'm still trying to figure out why everyone in town remembers my family and I. We kept a low profile. My sister and I were fairly shy and I know that I didn't really "come into my own" until I went away to college. Yet, people remember us. Maybe it's because my sister and I are twins. Maybe it's because we have interesting names, or because we're the only Jews in town, or maybe it's because my family looks slightly different from the average person in Escalon. Who knows. Somehow we've made an impact on them. More importantly though, they've made an impact on me.
Below is my tribute to small town life.
I'm a world traveler and pride myself in being able to pick up and move wherever it is my heart desires. One would never know that I spent a large chunk of my life so far living in small towns in Northern California.
I consider Escalon, a town that once had a population of 5,000 people, as my childhood home. I spent my high school years engrossed in my classes and extra-curricular activities. I formed friendships that are sure to last a lifetime and memories that continue to make me smile and laugh.
While I loved my friends in Escalon, I can't even begin to tell you how many times my sister and I complained to our parents about living in a small, ugly farm town where there was nothing to do. My mother had grown up in Palos Verdes, a beautiful neighborhood overlooking the ocean in Southern California. My father was born in Israel and spent his childhood at the beach and running through the hills. We could never understand how both of them could go from such beauty to the cow-filled town of Escalon. It wasn't until I moved away for college that I began to appreciate the small town life.
Upon my return to town on school breaks, I found myself looking in every car I passed and waving to people I recognized. A trip to the market became a mini reunion and lunch at Pizza Plus was like eating at a friend's house. Conversations with friends' parents were amazing and laughing with high school friends made my stomach hurt. I began to realize how great it was to know people everywhere I went and how comforting it was to know that if you left the house without locking the door, your stuff would still be there when you returned.
My parents now live 1.5 hrs from Escalon, but each time I return to Northern California, I drive through Escalon, eat at Pizza Plus and I make sure to peer through the car window as I make my way down McHenry Ave. I appreciate it now. I can understand why my parents chose to raise children in the small town, away from the violence and corruption of the big city. I cherish my small-town upbringing and wouldn't mind nestling in to a different small town at some point down the road!
Cheers to small towns, amazing friendships, and true love!
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