Victoria Adler, Prozdor Grade 11
What is important to me? Getting to school on time, finishing my homework, keeping up my grades, and getting enough sleep. I worry about all of these things, and more, every day. Like most people, I tend to overlook the real important parts of my life.
I get caught up in my busy schedule, and do not have the time to think about others. The amount of stress I experience everyday clouds my vision of what I really should appreciate. A good day for me would be finishing all of my homework. A good day is supposed to be a day where no one was hurt. A moment needs to be taken everyday to appreciate what we have. That is something I rarely did. After experiencing a once in a lifetime opportunity, I now believe in that statement.
I traveled to Eastern Europe for eleven days with a group of fellow students. We toured concentration camps, synagogues, and the cities where Jewish life once existed. I went into this trip knowing that it would change my life, but I never imagined it would the way it did. I thought I would become more appreciative for my own life, but instead, I became more appreciative for the life of my family.
My family has always been there for me and will continue to always be. That is something I have taken for granted. Instead of thanking them for everything they do, I get mad because I want to do more. I yell when I am annoyed, cry when I am stressed, and rebel when I do not get my way. And yet, they still are always there for me. Instead of showing my mom gratitude for helping me pack for the trip, I just get mad because she was making me more stressed. Instead of seeing my brother’s annoying actions as wanting my attention, I would just yell. It was not until I saw their names on the walls of concentration camps that I realized how lucky I am. I assume that my family will be there everyday, just like the Holocaust victims assumed, but only they were not as lucky as I am. They lost everything, and yet I have everything, and still did not appreciate it.
My trip took an unexpected turn. I no longer worried about the work I had to do when I got home, or the anxiety of talking about my experience. I became more interested in buying my brother a shirt and speaking with my parents. I wanted to tell them everything, and I knew they would want to listen.
The reality check I experienced on my trip completely changed my outlook on life. Instead of dreading time with my parents, I now embrace it. Instead of avoiding conversations with my brother, I now start them. Instead of living my day without thinking of my family, I now take a moment to do so. I hope you will too.
Tuesday, May 29, 2007
What is Important to Me
What is important to me? Getting to school on time, finishing my homework, keeping up my grades, and getting enough sleep. I worry about all of these things, and more, every day. Like most people, I tend to overlook the real important parts of my life.
I get caught up in my busy schedule, and do not have the time to think about others. The amount of stress I experience everyday clouds my vision of what I really should appreciate. A good day for me would be finishing all of my homework. A good day is supposed to be a day where no one was hurt. A moment needs to be taken everyday to appreciate what we have. That is something I rarely did. After experiencing a once in a lifetime opportunity, I now believe in that statement.
I traveled to Eastern Europe for eleven days with a group of fellow students. We toured concentration camps, synagogues, and the cities where Jewish life once existed. I went into this trip knowing that it would change my life, but I never imagined it would the way it did. I thought I would become more appreciative for my own life, but instead, I became more appreciative for the life of my family.
My family has always been there for me and will continue to always be. That is something I have taken for granted. Instead of thanking them for everything they do, I get mad because I want to do more. I yell when I am annoyed, cry when I am stressed, and rebel when I do not get my way. And yet, they still are always there for me. Instead of showing my mom gratitude for helping me pack for the trip, I just get mad because she was making me more stressed. Instead of seeing my brother’s annoying actions as wanting my attention, I would just yell. It was not until I saw their names on the walls of concentration camps that I realized how lucky I am. I assume that my family will be there everyday, just like the Holocaust victims assumed, but only they were not as lucky as I am. They lost everything, and yet I have everything, and still did not appreciate it.
My trip took an unexpected turn. I no longer worried about the work I had to do when I got home, or the anxiety of talking about my experience. I became more interested in buying my brother a shirt and speaking with my parents. I wanted to tell them everything, and I knew they would want to listen.
The reality check I experienced on my trip completely changed my outlook on life. Instead of dreading time with my parents, I now embrace it. Instead of avoiding conversations with my brother, I now start them. Instead of living my day without thinking of my family, I now take a moment to do so. I hope you will too.
I get caught up in my busy schedule, and do not have the time to think about others. The amount of stress I experience everyday clouds my vision of what I really should appreciate. A good day for me would be finishing all of my homework. A good day is supposed to be a day where no one was hurt. A moment needs to be taken everyday to appreciate what we have. That is something I rarely did. After experiencing a once in a lifetime opportunity, I now believe in that statement.
I traveled to Eastern Europe for eleven days with a group of fellow students. We toured concentration camps, synagogues, and the cities where Jewish life once existed. I went into this trip knowing that it would change my life, but I never imagined it would the way it did. I thought I would become more appreciative for my own life, but instead, I became more appreciative for the life of my family.
My family has always been there for me and will continue to always be. That is something I have taken for granted. Instead of thanking them for everything they do, I get mad because I want to do more. I yell when I am annoyed, cry when I am stressed, and rebel when I do not get my way. And yet, they still are always there for me. Instead of showing my mom gratitude for helping me pack for the trip, I just get mad because she was making me more stressed. Instead of seeing my brother’s annoying actions as wanting my attention, I would just yell. It was not until I saw their names on the walls of concentration camps that I realized how lucky I am. I assume that my family will be there everyday, just like the Holocaust victims assumed, but only they were not as lucky as I am. They lost everything, and yet I have everything, and still did not appreciate it.
My trip took an unexpected turn. I no longer worried about the work I had to do when I got home, or the anxiety of talking about my experience. I became more interested in buying my brother a shirt and speaking with my parents. I wanted to tell them everything, and I knew they would want to listen.
The reality check I experienced on my trip completely changed my outlook on life. Instead of dreading time with my parents, I now embrace it. Instead of avoiding conversations with my brother, I now start them. Instead of living my day without thinking of my family, I now take a moment to do so. I hope you will too.
I Will Not Be Cured
Reuben Baron - Prozdor, Grade 8
I will not be cured. For some reason, there are many people who insist people like me need to be removed from this planet. I have Aspergers Syndrome, a mild form of Autism which makes social interaction in some situations difficult. It also give me high intelligence, a strong sense
of focus, and unusual levels of talent in things that interest me. And I'm happy. I'm no worse off than most 'normal people'. It's just that my weaknesses are in areas most people are stronger in, and vice-versa.
People who want to 'cure' Autism aren't making things better. I believe they are trying to eliminate an important part of human diversity. They want to kill the next Einstein, the next Bill Gates (personally, I'm no Microsoft fan, but to even have an opinion on it, you need to be pretty
geeky and as such more likely than most to receive an Aspergers diagnosis). I've been silenced in the past. Even my parents, despite their love for me, are unsure how to react to 'cure' groups. But I WON'T let anyone stop me from being who I am.
I will not be cured. For some reason, there are many people who insist people like me need to be removed from this planet. I have Aspergers Syndrome, a mild form of Autism which makes social interaction in some situations difficult. It also give me high intelligence, a strong sense
of focus, and unusual levels of talent in things that interest me. And I'm happy. I'm no worse off than most 'normal people'. It's just that my weaknesses are in areas most people are stronger in, and vice-versa.
People who want to 'cure' Autism aren't making things better. I believe they are trying to eliminate an important part of human diversity. They want to kill the next Einstein, the next Bill Gates (personally, I'm no Microsoft fan, but to even have an opinion on it, you need to be pretty
geeky and as such more likely than most to receive an Aspergers diagnosis). I've been silenced in the past. Even my parents, despite their love for me, are unsure how to react to 'cure' groups. But I WON'T let anyone stop me from being who I am.
While You See a Chance Take It
David Getz, Prozdor Grade 8
In Steve Winwood’s hit song, While You See a Chance, he states, “While you see a chance take it, find romance fake it, because it's all on you.” I have found the lyrics to this song extremely inspiring. Before basketball games my dad and I listen to this song during the car ride there while discussing ways to improve by creating plays or speeding up the pace.
“While you see a chance take it…”
At the beginning of the school year last year, I was strolling down the hallway when I came upon a large sign with names scrabbled all over it. It was the sign up sheet for the school play, James and the Giant Peach.
That night I returned home thinking about the somewhat stimulating sign in the hall at school. I had never acted in a school play so the whole experience was very new to me. I asked my parents about it. My sister is a very talented actress, therefore acting as an inspiration. My parents had also acted in plays in their high school years so they helped me too. They mentioned how much fun it was meeting new people and performing in front of large audiences.
The next day I confidently signed my name on the try out sheet, while taking a sheet about the play that included important information about commitment. At home I worked with my dad to find a descriptive monologue that would give the director a sense of my acting ability. My Side of the Mountain, we realized, was the perfect monologue. I thought that it matched the part of James Henry Trotter perfectly.
The next week, I stepped boldly on the stage and recited the monologue that I had thoroughly memorized the night before. I projected my voice and acted as if I was the boy in my monologue, pretending to pick berries or bark, wiping fake sweat off of my forehead to pretend to act tired, and I added many facial expressions to the routine.
The week after that, I discovered that I was chosen to play the part of James!
“While you see a chance take it…”
About a year later, I found a similar sign that beckoned to me. The Wizard of Oz, it stated at the top. I signed my name hoping that I’d have as much luck as the time before. Although I later discovered that this show differed from the last. The directors would give me music to sing and a scene to perform instead of having me make up a monologue.
I once again consulted my family that night, and yet again was encouraged to try out.
I got up on stage with four other boys at the end of the week and sang, danced, and acted out scenes with other actors and actresses. I kept in mind that I should act like the character I was trying out for, therefore, I made sure to fall and act flimsy, like the Scarecrow.
Amazingly, I was chosen to play the part of the Scarecrow the week later.
“While you see a chance take it…”
I have found that taking risks can really make your life exhilarating, filling it with ups and occasionally downs, which only make the risk taking more fun. I know that would be a completely different person if it weren’t for the encouragement that I receive from my sisters and parents and the risks I’ve taken.
In Steve Winwood’s hit song, While You See a Chance, he states, “While you see a chance take it, find romance fake it, because it's all on you.” I have found the lyrics to this song extremely inspiring. Before basketball games my dad and I listen to this song during the car ride there while discussing ways to improve by creating plays or speeding up the pace.
“While you see a chance take it…”
At the beginning of the school year last year, I was strolling down the hallway when I came upon a large sign with names scrabbled all over it. It was the sign up sheet for the school play, James and the Giant Peach.
That night I returned home thinking about the somewhat stimulating sign in the hall at school. I had never acted in a school play so the whole experience was very new to me. I asked my parents about it. My sister is a very talented actress, therefore acting as an inspiration. My parents had also acted in plays in their high school years so they helped me too. They mentioned how much fun it was meeting new people and performing in front of large audiences.
The next day I confidently signed my name on the try out sheet, while taking a sheet about the play that included important information about commitment. At home I worked with my dad to find a descriptive monologue that would give the director a sense of my acting ability. My Side of the Mountain, we realized, was the perfect monologue. I thought that it matched the part of James Henry Trotter perfectly.
The next week, I stepped boldly on the stage and recited the monologue that I had thoroughly memorized the night before. I projected my voice and acted as if I was the boy in my monologue, pretending to pick berries or bark, wiping fake sweat off of my forehead to pretend to act tired, and I added many facial expressions to the routine.
The week after that, I discovered that I was chosen to play the part of James!
“While you see a chance take it…”
About a year later, I found a similar sign that beckoned to me. The Wizard of Oz, it stated at the top. I signed my name hoping that I’d have as much luck as the time before. Although I later discovered that this show differed from the last. The directors would give me music to sing and a scene to perform instead of having me make up a monologue.
I once again consulted my family that night, and yet again was encouraged to try out.
I got up on stage with four other boys at the end of the week and sang, danced, and acted out scenes with other actors and actresses. I kept in mind that I should act like the character I was trying out for, therefore, I made sure to fall and act flimsy, like the Scarecrow.
Amazingly, I was chosen to play the part of the Scarecrow the week later.
“While you see a chance take it…”
I have found that taking risks can really make your life exhilarating, filling it with ups and occasionally downs, which only make the risk taking more fun. I know that would be a completely different person if it weren’t for the encouragement that I receive from my sisters and parents and the risks I’ve taken.
Time to Travel
Merav Levkowitz, Prozdor Grade 12
I got my first passport when I was just a few weeks old so I could go visit family in Colombia and Israel. Since then I have traveled far and wide, visiting family all over the world and simply being a tourist. My family is always traveling. In fact, when we haven't traveled in a while, my mom says "I need oxygen," meaning: "Time to get on a plane and out of the country."
Although having a lot of stamps on my passport is impressive, there is so much more to traveling than passports, airplane tickets, and maps. Every journey is a hands-on learning experience, far away from the notebooks and rows of desks that mark the standard learning environment. I could even say (probably to my parents' dismay) that I remember more from my international journeys than I do from my school textbooks. In Israel, I learned about coexistence between different cultures and about human nature. While living in Brazil for a year I learned to speak Portuguese fluently, and I experienced a new environment, encountering species I had never even heard of before. Three weeks living with a host family in Paris taught me independence and how to adapt to a new environment. Among my extended family and the tight-knit Jewish community in Colombia, I have learned the value of togetherness, of solidarity, and of having a safety net to fall back on.
Sure, travel is expensive, and unfortunately, I can't just hop on a plane and jet-set off to wherever I want, whenever I want. As a result, I have learned to be thankful for each one of these unique opportunities, whether I am traveling alone or with my family. I take advantage of museums, beaches, foods I have never tasted, music I have never heard, and new people. I listen to the language spoken around me, trying to pick up as many words as possible with the hope that one day I will be able to speak it fluently and converse naturally with the natives in order to "experience the real thing." Airplanes are uncomfortable, but they teach patience, tolerance, problem-solving, and willingness to adapt (and "How to Sleep in Moving Vehicles 101"). And while the thought of recycled air grosses me out a little bit, the thought of never traveling anywhere again scares me out of my wits. So, I have learned to put up with delayed flights, lost luggage, nasty waiters, jet lag, and unfavorable exchange rates. If that's the way it has to be, I'll take it. It's all worth it.
Some people are afraid to leave their comfort zones, but I say: drop me out there with a map, a bottle of water, and some key phrases in the local tongue, and I'll figure out my way around. In fact, I'll be thrilled. Even if I just in a café, whether it's in Tel Aviv, Paris, or Barcelona, watching people go by, I'll be observing and learning. Every travel experience is an opportunity to learn about other cultures, to see new sights, and to be exposed to different people, values, and lessons. In fact, human relations in this world would probably be significantly better if we all took the time to travel and to reach out to others in order to understand where they are coming from. This is what I truly believe.
I got my first passport when I was just a few weeks old so I could go visit family in Colombia and Israel. Since then I have traveled far and wide, visiting family all over the world and simply being a tourist. My family is always traveling. In fact, when we haven't traveled in a while, my mom says "I need oxygen," meaning: "Time to get on a plane and out of the country."
Although having a lot of stamps on my passport is impressive, there is so much more to traveling than passports, airplane tickets, and maps. Every journey is a hands-on learning experience, far away from the notebooks and rows of desks that mark the standard learning environment. I could even say (probably to my parents' dismay) that I remember more from my international journeys than I do from my school textbooks. In Israel, I learned about coexistence between different cultures and about human nature. While living in Brazil for a year I learned to speak Portuguese fluently, and I experienced a new environment, encountering species I had never even heard of before. Three weeks living with a host family in Paris taught me independence and how to adapt to a new environment. Among my extended family and the tight-knit Jewish community in Colombia, I have learned the value of togetherness, of solidarity, and of having a safety net to fall back on.
Sure, travel is expensive, and unfortunately, I can't just hop on a plane and jet-set off to wherever I want, whenever I want. As a result, I have learned to be thankful for each one of these unique opportunities, whether I am traveling alone or with my family. I take advantage of museums, beaches, foods I have never tasted, music I have never heard, and new people. I listen to the language spoken around me, trying to pick up as many words as possible with the hope that one day I will be able to speak it fluently and converse naturally with the natives in order to "experience the real thing." Airplanes are uncomfortable, but they teach patience, tolerance, problem-solving, and willingness to adapt (and "How to Sleep in Moving Vehicles 101"). And while the thought of recycled air grosses me out a little bit, the thought of never traveling anywhere again scares me out of my wits. So, I have learned to put up with delayed flights, lost luggage, nasty waiters, jet lag, and unfavorable exchange rates. If that's the way it has to be, I'll take it. It's all worth it.
Some people are afraid to leave their comfort zones, but I say: drop me out there with a map, a bottle of water, and some key phrases in the local tongue, and I'll figure out my way around. In fact, I'll be thrilled. Even if I just in a café, whether it's in Tel Aviv, Paris, or Barcelona, watching people go by, I'll be observing and learning. Every travel experience is an opportunity to learn about other cultures, to see new sights, and to be exposed to different people, values, and lessons. In fact, human relations in this world would probably be significantly better if we all took the time to travel and to reach out to others in order to understand where they are coming from. This is what I truly believe.
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
A Refutation of the Expulsion
Tamara Jacobs, Prozdor Grade 12
I admired the dramatic view of the Spanish countryside from the elaborate stone patio, perched high in the Alhambra palace. It was December of 2005, but at that moment, I felt as if I were looking out over a medieval Andalusian landscape. The Alhambra, built by Muslim royalty in the 14 th century, is truly an architectural masterpiece. Although it was built after the Golden Age in Spain, the Alhambra reflects the flourishing of art and culture under Muslim rule. I was there on a tour with my Hebrew school to study Jewish history during the Golden Age. I hugged my sweater close to me, trying to shield myself from the drizzling rain that shrouded the palace with mysterious beauty.
"Everyone, let's sit in a circle," called out the group leader. His voice brought me back to the 21st century. "Open your booklets to the page titled, 'Edict of Expulsion of the Jews.'"
At the time the Alhambra was built, Spain consisted of independent regions, the southernmost one ruled by the Muslim empire. During the Golden Age, Muslims, Christians and Jews lived together in relative harmony. Jews were fifteen percent of the population and contributed actively to society. Philosophy and the arts flourished along with the sciences. But after wresting control of these independent regions, King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella united their country under one religion. In 1492, Queen Isabella stood within the stone walls of the Alhambra and signed an edict expelling the Jews from Spain.
When these three ethnic groups were able to work together, I thought to myself, so much was accomplished. While the rest of Europe was in the Middle Ages, Andalusia was vibrant. How tragic is was that the only way Spain was able to unify was through the oppression of the Jews and the Muslims, both who had previously contributed so much to make the Iberian peninsula the intellectual and economic center of Western civilization.
There, in the mist, we somberly read the words of hatred calling for the permanent expulsion of the Jewish people from their home. My heart became lodged in my throat as I thought of the horrible crimes against humanity that people in power have imposed upon those who are weaker. Every culture, no matter how enlightened it may be at one point in history, seems to digress down the road of cruelty.
"Look! It's a rainbow," someone called out. I stood, turned around, and gasped with amazement at the enormous, perfect arc. Its vivid, distinct colors shone boldly over the ancient turrets and romantic olive trees and pines. Somewhere behind me, I heard a fellow student recite a prayer in Hebrew over the rainbow. I was reminded that in the Bible, God sent a rainbow to Noah after the Great Flood as a symbol of his promise to never destroy the world again. In the midst of a tragedy, the rainbow is a sign that hope will always shine through, that in the end people who work toward justice will successfully restore peace.
Andalusia, during the Golden Age, flourished because it tolerated diversity. When it was first united, Spain may have been an intimidating force in the world, but it was not long before it became bankrupt and one of the weaker European countries. Had oppression backfired?
Five hundred years after the Edict of Expulsion was enacted, I stood in the Alhambra with that rainbow in front of me. My presence there was a refutation of the Expulsion. I was optimistic that somehow, mankind will continue to work toward justice and tolerance. I am inspired to be a part of this challenge.
I admired the dramatic view of the Spanish countryside from the elaborate stone patio, perched high in the Alhambra palace. It was December of 2005, but at that moment, I felt as if I were looking out over a medieval Andalusian landscape. The Alhambra, built by Muslim royalty in the 14 th century, is truly an architectural masterpiece. Although it was built after the Golden Age in Spain, the Alhambra reflects the flourishing of art and culture under Muslim rule. I was there on a tour with my Hebrew school to study Jewish history during the Golden Age. I hugged my sweater close to me, trying to shield myself from the drizzling rain that shrouded the palace with mysterious beauty.
"Everyone, let's sit in a circle," called out the group leader. His voice brought me back to the 21st century. "Open your booklets to the page titled, 'Edict of Expulsion of the Jews.'"
At the time the Alhambra was built, Spain consisted of independent regions, the southernmost one ruled by the Muslim empire. During the Golden Age, Muslims, Christians and Jews lived together in relative harmony. Jews were fifteen percent of the population and contributed actively to society. Philosophy and the arts flourished along with the sciences. But after wresting control of these independent regions, King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella united their country under one religion. In 1492, Queen Isabella stood within the stone walls of the Alhambra and signed an edict expelling the Jews from Spain.
When these three ethnic groups were able to work together, I thought to myself, so much was accomplished. While the rest of Europe was in the Middle Ages, Andalusia was vibrant. How tragic is was that the only way Spain was able to unify was through the oppression of the Jews and the Muslims, both who had previously contributed so much to make the Iberian peninsula the intellectual and economic center of Western civilization.
There, in the mist, we somberly read the words of hatred calling for the permanent expulsion of the Jewish people from their home. My heart became lodged in my throat as I thought of the horrible crimes against humanity that people in power have imposed upon those who are weaker. Every culture, no matter how enlightened it may be at one point in history, seems to digress down the road of cruelty.
"Look! It's a rainbow," someone called out. I stood, turned around, and gasped with amazement at the enormous, perfect arc. Its vivid, distinct colors shone boldly over the ancient turrets and romantic olive trees and pines. Somewhere behind me, I heard a fellow student recite a prayer in Hebrew over the rainbow. I was reminded that in the Bible, God sent a rainbow to Noah after the Great Flood as a symbol of his promise to never destroy the world again. In the midst of a tragedy, the rainbow is a sign that hope will always shine through, that in the end people who work toward justice will successfully restore peace.
Andalusia, during the Golden Age, flourished because it tolerated diversity. When it was first united, Spain may have been an intimidating force in the world, but it was not long before it became bankrupt and one of the weaker European countries. Had oppression backfired?
Five hundred years after the Edict of Expulsion was enacted, I stood in the Alhambra with that rainbow in front of me. My presence there was a refutation of the Expulsion. I was optimistic that somehow, mankind will continue to work toward justice and tolerance. I am inspired to be a part of this challenge.
Monday, May 14, 2007
Everyone has a Fighting Chance
Mayla Bouguslav - Prozdor, Grade 8
When I was younger, my Judaic teacher told me to believe in the Hanukah miracle, that the oil lasted for 8 days. When I was younger I did not believe it because it sounded ridiculous, how could a drop of oil last for even 3 days? My teacher wanted to make sure that we understood the Hanukah story, so she wanted us to write about it. I really did not want to write about it because I did not believe it. I wrote instead how I did not believe in it and why I did not, and my teacher gave me a bad grade and had to talk to me after class about it because she thought that I did not understand. I told her that I thought it did not make sense and it did not seem real and she told me that it was real and I needed to believe in it and rewrite what I had written. She was forcing me to believe in something that I did not. It turns out that the Hanukah miracle is just made up and never actually happened and I hate how my teacher told me to believe in it when I did not want to.
I believe that everybody has a fighting chance at what they believe. If everyone did not have a fighting chance, then how could we have many religions today? What you believe in is a personal choice and no one can take it away from you. When you believe in something, you should hold on to it because it makes who you are today, tomorrow, and the future. In the Holocaust there were some Jews that didn’t want to be Jewish anymore because people were killing them. The people who were killing them were also killing their hopes, dreams, wants, and especially their beliefs. A lot of Holocaust survivors stay Jewish because their belief, that there will be a tomorrow is alive. Those people are fighting for their belief and no one can take it away.
To be Jewish is to know who you are and what you believe in. If someone knows what they believe in then they should keep that belief and no one should tell them other wise. People should find out on their own what their true belief is. When you are younger, you don’t really know what your true belief is. You will probably believe in a lot of things, when you are older you find what you truly believe in.
When you go to school teachers, parents, and other kids will try to get you to believe in different things. A child’s mind is very delicate. Teachers, parents, and other kids should not be telling the child what to do or believe because the child is the one that knows about him or herself and what to believe or not. Most kids turn out like their parents, or in some form, but don’t ever let anyone push you around or tell you what to believe in.
What someone believes in is a very special thing. Whether you personally agree with it or not is not what matters. The point is to listen to everyone and not put someone down. You should not strive to become better than others; you should strive to be the best that you can be. Your beliefs help to build your character.
When I was younger, my Judaic teacher told me to believe in the Hanukah miracle, that the oil lasted for 8 days. When I was younger I did not believe it because it sounded ridiculous, how could a drop of oil last for even 3 days? My teacher wanted to make sure that we understood the Hanukah story, so she wanted us to write about it. I really did not want to write about it because I did not believe it. I wrote instead how I did not believe in it and why I did not, and my teacher gave me a bad grade and had to talk to me after class about it because she thought that I did not understand. I told her that I thought it did not make sense and it did not seem real and she told me that it was real and I needed to believe in it and rewrite what I had written. She was forcing me to believe in something that I did not. It turns out that the Hanukah miracle is just made up and never actually happened and I hate how my teacher told me to believe in it when I did not want to.
I believe that everybody has a fighting chance at what they believe. If everyone did not have a fighting chance, then how could we have many religions today? What you believe in is a personal choice and no one can take it away from you. When you believe in something, you should hold on to it because it makes who you are today, tomorrow, and the future. In the Holocaust there were some Jews that didn’t want to be Jewish anymore because people were killing them. The people who were killing them were also killing their hopes, dreams, wants, and especially their beliefs. A lot of Holocaust survivors stay Jewish because their belief, that there will be a tomorrow is alive. Those people are fighting for their belief and no one can take it away.
To be Jewish is to know who you are and what you believe in. If someone knows what they believe in then they should keep that belief and no one should tell them other wise. People should find out on their own what their true belief is. When you are younger, you don’t really know what your true belief is. You will probably believe in a lot of things, when you are older you find what you truly believe in.
When you go to school teachers, parents, and other kids will try to get you to believe in different things. A child’s mind is very delicate. Teachers, parents, and other kids should not be telling the child what to do or believe because the child is the one that knows about him or herself and what to believe or not. Most kids turn out like their parents, or in some form, but don’t ever let anyone push you around or tell you what to believe in.
What someone believes in is a very special thing. Whether you personally agree with it or not is not what matters. The point is to listen to everyone and not put someone down. You should not strive to become better than others; you should strive to be the best that you can be. Your beliefs help to build your character.
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