Reading the news on this upcoming September makes me cry. Openly, I can say I have cried twice this summer both about Israel. The first incident was on the ledge of the massive urn in Majdanek: when our Israeli staffer spoke about her grandfather, his escape from the camp and his journey to the promised land. Her words made me weep tears of joy. The second time was on the roof of a hostel, during my last hours in Israel, with my head facing the old city I melted.
While, I was in Israel the girls in my tour group had an obsession with taking pictures with the soldiers we encountered. Lucky for us, a group of Machine Gunners checked into our hostel one night. By December the some of boys I spent the night getting to know, will not be alive. I have a friend who’s parents sent her to live in a friends basement, in the States, because they are afraid of what this fall will bring.
Back here in America we sharpen up our pencils and scramble to find fake IDs in time for school to start. The boys I met at Agron, will polish their boots, load their guns, and become men weather they are prepared or not. Know that September will bring change. What lies ahead will pull my dear friend’s fiancee away from his wedding for combat. What waits for us in two weeks will change how we perceive Israel, Palestine, and our own American goverment.