Tips for a successful aliyah, from an old olah to new olim

I did not make aliyah, let’s just get that straight. They brought me here. Or as I like to say, I was — made — aliyah. And as my feed filled up with videos and posts about the NBN charter flight this week, I felt like I needed to reach out. As someone who was made aliyah I wanted to share a few lessons, because maybe someone out there needs to hear it. I’m the kid that was brought here, and I just wanted to give you some perspective.

The first time I went to the States on my own for sleep-away camp someone looked at me funny and asked: “What are you?” I speak Engish fluently, but I dress like an Israeli. I love tuna in my sandwhiches instead of chocolate spread, but I can explain to you how to drive almost anywhere in Israel, and have no idea where New York is on a map. “I’m a hybrid, or one of those transformers” was my response, and it is as true today as it was back then.

1. Be proud of where you came from and where you are going. The saying is דע מאין באת ולאן אתה הולך (Know from where you came, and to where you are going), but I really think anyone who makes aliyah should automatically graduate to the next level. Don’t try and erase your past. Be proud of who you were and where you are from, just as proud as who you are becoming and where you are headed. A person who chooses to leave everything familiar behind in the hopes of a better and brighter future in our ancestral land is a person of gadlut (greatness). If ever you feel small, remember that you have completed a journey similar to Avraham Avinu and Sarah Imenu, the biblical Abraham and Sarah. לך לך מארצך וממולדתך ומבית אביך אל הארץ אשר אראך: “Go from your land, and from your birthplace, and from the house of your father, to the land that I will show you” (Genesis 12:1).
2. Immerse, learn, and become a part of it. It is pretty crazy cool to note that if you make aliyah nowadays, there is a lot that you can get away with without learning the language and becoming part of the culture. That being said, you’re missing out. Take the time to do Ulpan, to make Israeli friends, try some cultural experiences that are a bit out of your comfort zone. The best way to feel at home is to literally make yourself at home. Hebrew is not just the language to help you with Israeli bureaucracy; it’s getting the punchline of an inside joke, it’s מה נשמע — “Mah nishma? How are you” at the grocery store, and it’s being able to host an Israeli family for a meal. It is hard work, but I cannot be prouder of the olim who push themselves and make aliyah a reality.

   

3. Choose your hard. I saw this fantastic commercial a while back that put things into perspective for me. Losing weight is hard, but so is working out at the gym and eating healthy. Being poor is hard, but so is working two jobs to stay afloat. We all have to choose our hard. When October 7th happened, and I realized I was the only one protecting my children while my husband went off to war, I started having these crazy vivid dreams where I pounded on the door of the Australian consulate. I would plead my case that, because I had spent a year in Perth, they should give me and my children visas and then we would flee to a land of peace and quiet. Only after a conversation with my father did these dreams cease to surface. I remember asking him plain and simple: “Abba, am I doing the right thing for my children? Staying put, here in Israel?” He simply replied calmly: “This is the ONLY place to be. Life in Israel is HARD. But we choose our hard, and, G-d willing, it is the hard that we want and need.”
4. Think about the next generation. I kinda am the next generation. Look at me and relax about your own children. I speak English at home and I am a co-director of a summer camp that runs exclusively in Hebrew. I read the Harry Potter books in English when they came out, but I also graduated from Bar Ilan University. I did my national service here. I flew abroad to teach Hebrew and Judaism as an Israeli. I met my husband here. I built my home here. My husband serves in the IDF and I’m so proud to raise my children here.

   

5. Remember you are not alone. Growing up, our block in Beit Shemesh became our extended family. To this day, we joke about how, after we got married there was some fighting as to who gets to host our first sheva brachot. All of the parents on that block are like my aunts and uncles. The kids all grew up together; we have come to rely on each other for everything. When my mother went to give birth to my younger brother, our neighbor was the one to wake us in the morning and take us to school. We have been there for each other for the good and the bad. You are not alone, and you are loved. Welcome home, welcome to your new and extended family.

As someone shared in shul recently, it used to be that people thought we were crazy to have made aliyah. Now I feel like you must be crazy not to. But that doesn’t mean there isn’t a long road ahead. So I just wanted to introduce myself and say hi, welcome to Israel. I was not born here, but I was raised here. I’m what your children might look like 30 years down the line. I’m so proud of you, just as I am crazy proud of my parents who brought me here. Who made this the only home I’ll ever know. Who showed me the love for the land and the people and that if you push hard enough it’s all worth it. So welcome home.

P.S. Even though it was eons ago, they somehow got our aliyah flight on camera, and when we celebrated 30 years recently, I was able to share some of it as a reel thanking them for everything.