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.
Feeling Comfortable
Zeke Silverstein - Prozdor, Grade 8
I believe that all people should be able to feel comfortable in any environment he or she enters. People should be accepted from the beginning and be given the benefit of the doubt. Whenever I go to school, I feel as if I have to be constantly watching my back. I feel that people are out to get me and that I’m in danger of constant humiliation. It’s not a pleasant feeling. Some people are just mean, others do it to make their friends laugh, I don’t know why people tease others, but I know it hurts.
This is why I believe that people should be kind and accepting of others. Be friendly, because I know that when people are mean, I get nervous that other people will join them and begin making fun of me. Sure, I can shrug off a few insults, but it builds up over time, and it’s going to cave in on you. It already has on me. One day, I was being teased and bullied so much that I just broke down and cried in the middle of class. I couldn’t help myself, the tears just kept coming.
But there is a positive side. Even before my first day of Prozdor, I thought it was going to be horrible. My dad was sending me on the Shabbaton and I was going to be so bored for two days. But before I even got on the bus, a girl came up to me and asked me if I wanted to throw my football around with her. This made me feel comfortable because I felt that I had made a friend. As it turned out, that girl ended up being my best and closest friend at Prozdor. In addition to that, I now look forward to and enjoy Prozdor on Sunday mornings instead of thinking about it as a prison.
I guess that I owe it to her for making Prozdor feel like a safe haven for me from my battlefield of a school. I still feel uncomfortable most of the time at school, but I’m working on that, and I’m making more friends. But Prozdor is still the best because of the friends I’ve come to know and the great times we’ve had. I really feel comfortable at Prozdor. It’s a wonderful outlet from the harsh school world.
I believe that all people should be able to feel comfortable in any environment he or she enters. People should be accepted from the beginning and be given the benefit of the doubt. Whenever I go to school, I feel as if I have to be constantly watching my back. I feel that people are out to get me and that I’m in danger of constant humiliation. It’s not a pleasant feeling. Some people are just mean, others do it to make their friends laugh, I don’t know why people tease others, but I know it hurts.
This is why I believe that people should be kind and accepting of others. Be friendly, because I know that when people are mean, I get nervous that other people will join them and begin making fun of me. Sure, I can shrug off a few insults, but it builds up over time, and it’s going to cave in on you. It already has on me. One day, I was being teased and bullied so much that I just broke down and cried in the middle of class. I couldn’t help myself, the tears just kept coming.
But there is a positive side. Even before my first day of Prozdor, I thought it was going to be horrible. My dad was sending me on the Shabbaton and I was going to be so bored for two days. But before I even got on the bus, a girl came up to me and asked me if I wanted to throw my football around with her. This made me feel comfortable because I felt that I had made a friend. As it turned out, that girl ended up being my best and closest friend at Prozdor. In addition to that, I now look forward to and enjoy Prozdor on Sunday mornings instead of thinking about it as a prison.
I guess that I owe it to her for making Prozdor feel like a safe haven for me from my battlefield of a school. I still feel uncomfortable most of the time at school, but I’m working on that, and I’m making more friends. But Prozdor is still the best because of the friends I’ve come to know and the great times we’ve had. I really feel comfortable at Prozdor. It’s a wonderful outlet from the harsh school world.
Tuesday, May 8, 2007
We All are Mistaken
Aaron Feshbach-Meriney, Prozdor Grade 10
I believe that we all are mistaken. I believe that there is nothing to believe in, that is, nothing to believe in except what is inevitable. i believe that no one knows what is going to happen, but I do believe in fate.
I believe that everything will happen. That no matter what you do, it will all lead up to what you were supposed to do. You can't ever know what you were supposed to do unless it has already happened, and even if you could know, everything you did to change it, would you lead up to/and cause it.
I believe that that people make up gods and godlike figures when thay have unanswered questions and are too small minded to accept those unanswered questions. It is impossible for all questions to be answered but I think science, technology and research are the closest things.
I also think people use way too much of their time being useless. We, as humans, are immensley incredible creatures, yet we waste our time fighting over whose religion is better, people also waste time with other groups of people. Countries fight to produce the newest and greatest thing. It is a never ending argument. I am a hypocrite in this matter. I live in a world where this happens and thus, I am subject to and controlled by things that do nbot have any importance to me.
Another thing I beleive is that humans are an unfortunate species to be. I think it is the best on earth, but it is still unfortunate. As I said before, we are wonderfull, but despite our wonderfullness, we have many faults that weigh us down.
When put under certain circimstances we cannot control out behavior. We also need nourishment and care to survive.
I believe that we are all mistaken.
I believe that we all are mistaken. I believe that there is nothing to believe in, that is, nothing to believe in except what is inevitable. i believe that no one knows what is going to happen, but I do believe in fate.
I believe that everything will happen. That no matter what you do, it will all lead up to what you were supposed to do. You can't ever know what you were supposed to do unless it has already happened, and even if you could know, everything you did to change it, would you lead up to/and cause it.
I believe that that people make up gods and godlike figures when thay have unanswered questions and are too small minded to accept those unanswered questions. It is impossible for all questions to be answered but I think science, technology and research are the closest things.
I also think people use way too much of their time being useless. We, as humans, are immensley incredible creatures, yet we waste our time fighting over whose religion is better, people also waste time with other groups of people. Countries fight to produce the newest and greatest thing. It is a never ending argument. I am a hypocrite in this matter. I live in a world where this happens and thus, I am subject to and controlled by things that do nbot have any importance to me.
Another thing I beleive is that humans are an unfortunate species to be. I think it is the best on earth, but it is still unfortunate. As I said before, we are wonderfull, but despite our wonderfullness, we have many faults that weigh us down.
When put under certain circimstances we cannot control out behavior. We also need nourishment and care to survive.
I believe that we are all mistaken.
Sunday, May 6, 2007
Tikkun Olam through Teaching
Tamar Duke-Cohan, Prozdor Faculty
I believe in Tikkun Olam through teaching. Tikkun Olam—“repairing the world”—is a central tenet of Judaism. An idea whose roots reach back to the Mishna, it has evolved into the belief that the world is “broken” and that each of us should take steps to make it whole and perfect.
I had never wanted to be a teacher and never thought I’d be one. Teaching came to me by chance: A beloved Prozdor teacher made Aliya, a replacement could not be found, another teacher knew me, and an offer to come and teach classes about the Holocaust was made. It was an intriguing idea, my services were needed, and so I accepted and became a teacher.
Teaching is painstaking and inexact. It is the gentle, constant pressure that guides young men and women into gradually recognizing the right path. It is about helping the students to find order in chaos and certainty in doubt; about their acceptance that the world is gray, and that we must find our way in its mists. I do not aim to identify the right path, but rather prefer to give my students lamps and maps with which to find it for themselves. One of my guiding lights is Judaism, and I hope it will light their way too.
I arrived at Prozdor by chance, but I am staying on purpose. Like the click of a seatbelt snapping into its holder, when I first stepped into the classroom, everything was “right.” I had completed a picture, and it had completed me. And so, every Sunday, when we finish taking attendance and resume our discussion of such topics as the Eichmann Trial or the fate of Holocaust survivors, I believe that I am working to fix that tiny part of the broken world that has been assigned to me. This is my Tikkun Olam.
I believe in Tikkun Olam through teaching. Tikkun Olam—“repairing the world”—is a central tenet of Judaism. An idea whose roots reach back to the Mishna, it has evolved into the belief that the world is “broken” and that each of us should take steps to make it whole and perfect.
I had never wanted to be a teacher and never thought I’d be one. Teaching came to me by chance: A beloved Prozdor teacher made Aliya, a replacement could not be found, another teacher knew me, and an offer to come and teach classes about the Holocaust was made. It was an intriguing idea, my services were needed, and so I accepted and became a teacher.
Teaching is painstaking and inexact. It is the gentle, constant pressure that guides young men and women into gradually recognizing the right path. It is about helping the students to find order in chaos and certainty in doubt; about their acceptance that the world is gray, and that we must find our way in its mists. I do not aim to identify the right path, but rather prefer to give my students lamps and maps with which to find it for themselves. One of my guiding lights is Judaism, and I hope it will light their way too.
I arrived at Prozdor by chance, but I am staying on purpose. Like the click of a seatbelt snapping into its holder, when I first stepped into the classroom, everything was “right.” I had completed a picture, and it had completed me. And so, every Sunday, when we finish taking attendance and resume our discussion of such topics as the Eichmann Trial or the fate of Holocaust survivors, I believe that I am working to fix that tiny part of the broken world that has been assigned to me. This is my Tikkun Olam.
Wednesday, May 2, 2007
God's Straws
Leah Weiner, Prozdor Grade 10
“The straw that broke the camel’s back” is a common expression and experience meaning that there have been several incidents that would be insignificant, however together they create something significant. When one is trying to explain why the “straw broke the camel’s back” they often have a hard time, knowing that to an onlooker of the situation, there is no significance in the last “straw”, so one must tell all the “straws”, every insignificant detail that led to the snap, and even then, comprehension of the situation is not guaranteed.
I believe in God. It’s not something I just decided one day, and it’s not something I have always believed, but when there were several “straws” piled onto me by God, I had to believe. Each breathtaking incident or feeling I experience could have been shrugged off as common, but like the pile of “straws”, these incidents mean something when piled together. They create a certainty to God’s existence.
Just like someone explaining how the “straw broke the camel’s back”, I have trouble explaining my belief. Experiences have given me reason to believe, experiences that I can not possible share with words, the kind that one has to personally experience to believe. I have seen creations such as the amazing colors in rocks, or a village from the top of a mountain. I have met amazing, beautiful, talented and determined people. I have felt intense feelings and made wishes that come true against all odds. When these moments are put together I see the similarities between them. During each, I was experiencing God.
Many people question God’s existence because they can’t understand how evil could possibly coexist with God. They ask how hunger, poverty and war can go on in this world if God is watching over us. I don’t know the answers, belief does not mean understanding, but I have learned how to respond to these questions, to preserve my belief. I ask them, How can we experience good without bad? We would have nothing to relate our good fortune to. Maybe the evils we know aren’t true evils. Then they ask, How come holy people sometimes have a miserable life, where others who don’t believe in God live a rich, luxurious life? My answer: God has to keep his existence in question, or God wants his believers to live a full, meaningful life, and it is impossible to do that when spoiled with luxuries.
I can not possibly convince anyone of God’s existence, I cannot get anyone to understand every straw, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t believe. God could be a sixth sense, a sense too complex for the human brain to fully understand. God could be an ideal we all strive to become. God could be the big bang, the creator of the universe. God could be an all-knowing, all-powerful being or God could be each and every one of us. I don’t know the details of God’s existence, but I believe that God exists.
“The straw that broke the camel’s back” is a common expression and experience meaning that there have been several incidents that would be insignificant, however together they create something significant. When one is trying to explain why the “straw broke the camel’s back” they often have a hard time, knowing that to an onlooker of the situation, there is no significance in the last “straw”, so one must tell all the “straws”, every insignificant detail that led to the snap, and even then, comprehension of the situation is not guaranteed.
I believe in God. It’s not something I just decided one day, and it’s not something I have always believed, but when there were several “straws” piled onto me by God, I had to believe. Each breathtaking incident or feeling I experience could have been shrugged off as common, but like the pile of “straws”, these incidents mean something when piled together. They create a certainty to God’s existence.
Just like someone explaining how the “straw broke the camel’s back”, I have trouble explaining my belief. Experiences have given me reason to believe, experiences that I can not possible share with words, the kind that one has to personally experience to believe. I have seen creations such as the amazing colors in rocks, or a village from the top of a mountain. I have met amazing, beautiful, talented and determined people. I have felt intense feelings and made wishes that come true against all odds. When these moments are put together I see the similarities between them. During each, I was experiencing God.
Many people question God’s existence because they can’t understand how evil could possibly coexist with God. They ask how hunger, poverty and war can go on in this world if God is watching over us. I don’t know the answers, belief does not mean understanding, but I have learned how to respond to these questions, to preserve my belief. I ask them, How can we experience good without bad? We would have nothing to relate our good fortune to. Maybe the evils we know aren’t true evils. Then they ask, How come holy people sometimes have a miserable life, where others who don’t believe in God live a rich, luxurious life? My answer: God has to keep his existence in question, or God wants his believers to live a full, meaningful life, and it is impossible to do that when spoiled with luxuries.
I can not possibly convince anyone of God’s existence, I cannot get anyone to understand every straw, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t believe. God could be a sixth sense, a sense too complex for the human brain to fully understand. God could be an ideal we all strive to become. God could be the big bang, the creator of the universe. God could be an all-knowing, all-powerful being or God could be each and every one of us. I don’t know the details of God’s existence, but I believe that God exists.
Tuesday, May 1, 2007
Reflecting
Rebecca Greenstein, Prozdor Grade 10
The modern American’s life is stressful, busy, and unorganized. We cram our days full and barely have time to ourselves to unwind from our days, weeks, months, lifetimes. Many people don’t take some time for themselves out of every day, just to think about the day that has passed, the one coming, or the countless ones ahead. I believe everyone needs time to themselves.
I’m not a very athletic person and don’t enjoy team sports. I have tried to no avail to play basketball and softball with other girls my age. For that reason, my exercise comes in the form of walking home from school. It’s a mile and a half uphill, and with the two stoplights, it takes me about half an hour. I always use this time to look back on my day. What went wrong? What worked? How come? What can I do better the next day? Even though cars pass me at ungodly speeds of 50 m.p.h. on residential streets, I am able to block this out and go through a period of self-examination. It’s important for everyone to use time out of every day to reflect.
Despite this reflection I do while walking home, my life is still jam-packed and stressful. I have therefore spent at least three weeks out of every summer at a rustic camp in central Vermont. I am able to block out the constant stresses of my school year and have a great time with the people I am closest with. Camp has always been a way for me to release myself from my hectic home life. Even then, in a completely laid back and relaxed setting, I still need time to myself, so I find time to walk to and from the pond alone. It’s a ten minute walk that allows me to debrief from absolutely everything and feel the nature around me. Once, I was on my way to the pond and stopped mid-step for about five minutes, unable to take another pace. The utter tranquility of my surroundings made me pause and reflect even more than I was already doing. I love, and need, to take a break from everything.
Those who know me will probably be slightly astounded at this statement. I put a lot of unnecessary stress on myself to excel at schoolwork, stage managing plays, and piano. The only time I grant to myself is the time I spend walking home, which doesn’t come daily. When I don’t get a chance to walk home, I lie in bed before falling sleep and reflect. The only setback of this approach is the lack of exercise, but I think the more important thing is the reflection and not the physical activity. I know that on the outside, I’m not the kind of person who would grant herself self-reflection time, but when you get to know me really well, I enjoy downtime to reflect. After all, it’s what everyone needs in life.
The modern American’s life is stressful, busy, and unorganized. We cram our days full and barely have time to ourselves to unwind from our days, weeks, months, lifetimes. Many people don’t take some time for themselves out of every day, just to think about the day that has passed, the one coming, or the countless ones ahead. I believe everyone needs time to themselves.
I’m not a very athletic person and don’t enjoy team sports. I have tried to no avail to play basketball and softball with other girls my age. For that reason, my exercise comes in the form of walking home from school. It’s a mile and a half uphill, and with the two stoplights, it takes me about half an hour. I always use this time to look back on my day. What went wrong? What worked? How come? What can I do better the next day? Even though cars pass me at ungodly speeds of 50 m.p.h. on residential streets, I am able to block this out and go through a period of self-examination. It’s important for everyone to use time out of every day to reflect.
Despite this reflection I do while walking home, my life is still jam-packed and stressful. I have therefore spent at least three weeks out of every summer at a rustic camp in central Vermont. I am able to block out the constant stresses of my school year and have a great time with the people I am closest with. Camp has always been a way for me to release myself from my hectic home life. Even then, in a completely laid back and relaxed setting, I still need time to myself, so I find time to walk to and from the pond alone. It’s a ten minute walk that allows me to debrief from absolutely everything and feel the nature around me. Once, I was on my way to the pond and stopped mid-step for about five minutes, unable to take another pace. The utter tranquility of my surroundings made me pause and reflect even more than I was already doing. I love, and need, to take a break from everything.
Those who know me will probably be slightly astounded at this statement. I put a lot of unnecessary stress on myself to excel at schoolwork, stage managing plays, and piano. The only time I grant to myself is the time I spend walking home, which doesn’t come daily. When I don’t get a chance to walk home, I lie in bed before falling sleep and reflect. The only setback of this approach is the lack of exercise, but I think the more important thing is the reflection and not the physical activity. I know that on the outside, I’m not the kind of person who would grant herself self-reflection time, but when you get to know me really well, I enjoy downtime to reflect. After all, it’s what everyone needs in life.
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