A Migron Teen Addresses the Prime Minister

Migron_Airport_City_2The following is an open letter written this week by a Migron teen. It was to be presented as a speech at the demonstration held in Airport City but could not be delivered due to technical difficulties.

Dear Prime Minister Mr. Binyamin Netanyahu and the members of the Likud:

My name is Brachah Ruth Deitch. I’m 14 years old and I live in Migron.

I wasn’t born in Migron. We moved to Migron a year before it was destroyed. Before Migron, we lived in a two-floor house in Kochav Yaakov. Even so, we moved to Migron, to a small caravan with an extra room and bathroom added on. Still, it was pretty small.

Migron, before it was destroyed, was absolutely magnificent. There were wide open spaces, an enormous playground and fantastic kindergartens. There was a petting zoo and lots of room to play. We had a soccer and basketball court, and while it wasn’t the fanciest thing in the world, we played and had a great time. That’s where we waited for our school bus and fought with our friends. We had plenty of places where we could ride our bikes and run as far as we wanted.

And today, after the destruction of Migron, we have no room at all. Our only two options are to either ride our bikes half a kilometer straight uphill, then turn around and take the same route backward, downhill. Our other option is to cross the highway and ride in the lot across the road, where the gas station is located. That’s a pretty dangerous option, but it’s what we’ve got. There is a lot of traffic on the way and it stinks of gas. The drivers have a hard time seeing us and since it’s a gas station, they usually aren’t looking out for kids on bikes. I ride there with a bright-colored shirt and lights on my bike, but even so, the cars are faster than I am and they don’t always see me.

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Dear Mr. Prime Minister,

You promised, and you know it. Don’t deny it. You promised that within two years of Migron’s destruction, we would be moving into our permanent homes. And here we are, five years later, still in caravans.

We live in caravans, some of which were taken from families thrown out of Gush Katif. I live in one of these. The entire structure is full of cracks. The lights and electric sockets look like they’re going to fall down any minute. The electricity is constantly turning off and destroys people’s washing machines, ovens and refrigerators.

Dear Mr. Prime Minister,

You are too prominent to even think you’ll ever have to live under conditions like these – in a falling-apart caravan. It means you hear the winter rains as they smash into the metal roof. It means spending winters in the endless cold with no way of warming up. Electricity, so often, just doesn’t exist. In the summer, it means using an air conditioner non-stop, even though it only cools whomever is sitting closest.

Dear Mr. Prime Minister and members of the Likud,

I don’t wish these conditions on any of you. But since you don’t know my reality from close up, I wanted you to understand us. The conditions in which we live our lives on a day-to-day basis depend on you.

Please… you are the majority in the Knesset. Do something! You are responsible for our situation.

Just as you want us to grow up and develop this country, we want to grow up in functional housing. We want to live in a real house, not in a cardboard box with a sheet of metal thrown on top.

Ribbono Shel Olam – Give these people the courage to approve our building permits!

And I’ll thank you when they come through.

About the Author
Aviela is a multi-tasking, public-speaking, work-at-home mother of six decently-adjusted, mostly happy children. A life-long Wisconsinite, Aviela lives in Migron with her British husband, Israeli kids and Peruvian guinea pigs.
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