Building Israel: Brick by Brick, Moment by Moment

When I first came to Israel in 2012, I was 17, alone, and unsure of what it meant to truly belong to a place. 

At the time, I was part of a program in which I expected to stay in Israel for about a year. But the moment I set foot here, I felt something I had never felt before: home. Not in the sense of a house or city, but a deeper identity — the feeling of being part of a people, a culture, a nation. Growing up in the US, I’d never experienced that kind of rootedness. Here, I found it instantly.

Being Israeli isn’t just about where I live; it’s about what I do. I enlisted in the IDF because I wanted to contribute, to protect, and to build alongside my fellow citizens. Serving in the Golani combat unit, I learned lessons that went far beyond strategy or weapons training. I learned resilience, foresight, and the responsibility that comes with defending a country that feels as much like my own as the home I grew up in. Those months — the drills, the deployments, the uncertainty — shaped not just my skills, but my understanding of what it means to truly serve and protect.

When I’m not in uniform, I’m on construction sites — renovating homes, extending roofs, waterproofing foundations. This is a family trade that stretches back generations, and it’s in my blood. My work as a contractor at my company, Core Construct, mirrors my service as a soldier: both require planning, strength, and a commitment to fortifying what matters. One builds to protect; the other protects to build. Together, they define my mission: to fortify Israel, brick by brick, moment by moment. I’m also especially proud of my staff all of whom are Olim who served in IDF combat units, many of them lone soldiers such as myself.

Even the most careful builders face setbacks. After my two-month deployment following October 7, I returned home to find my storage unit broken into and my tools stolen. Years of careful investment were wiped away in an instant. At first, I thought I would rebuild alone, as I always do. I’ve never been comfortable asking for help. But a friend introduced me to SparkIL, an online platform that connects Israeli entrepreneurs with support from the global Jewish community, offering interest-free microloans. Through a small loan from their new $4.5 million emergency fund for businesses that have been struggling ever since Operation Rising Lion, I was able to invest in equipment that would help me rebuild my business and restore my livelihood.

That support didn’t just help me financially. It reminded me of the bridge between my two worlds. It was a connection to the US, to my roots, and to people who — though I’d never met them — understood the importance of sustaining Israel’s builders and protectors like myself. Being Israeli and being American are not contradictory. My service, my work, and even my reliance on the kindness of strangers have deepened my connection to both countries. SparkIL allowed me to experience that bridge firsthand — the knowledge that the global Jewish community is invested in the people who continue to build and defend Israel.

The aftermath of October 7 also reminded me of the fragility of everyday life, and the importance of planning, foresight, and adaptability. In those chaotic weeks, every decision mattered, every moment required focus. Returning home, I realized that protecting and building Israel isn’t only about physical defense or construction projects — it’s about resilience, community, and the networks that sustain us. Every brick I lay, every roof I secure, is a small act of fortification, a contribution to the ongoing work of nation-building.

Every day, I walk onto a site, measure a beam, lay a tile, or secure a foundation, and I think of it as another layer of protection. My work is a continuation of my service, a way to contribute to the country that took me in and made me whole. Israel is not just a place I live — it’s a home I protect, a country I build, and a nation I love.

Building Israel is never a solitary act. It’s the work of countless hands, of shared dreams, and, sometimes, of the unexpected generosity of others. For me, SparkIL wasn’t just a loan. It was a reminder that even the strongest builders sometimes need a bridge, and that the ties between Israel and the Diaspora continue to strengthen us all.