August 13, 2003

Alison on Aliyah: Grief and Loss

In the field of trauma psychology, we talk frequently about the five stages of grief and loss – disbelief, denial, anger, acceptance…something like that.  In the past month I’ve found that there is also a set of stages in the aliyah process.  I don’t know yet how many there are, but so far – and these are just working titles – I’m well past the “naïve excitement” phase (“Woo-hoo!  I’m going to live in Israel and all will be perfect!”), and I’ve been flirting with the combination “uncertainty/overwhelmed” stage (“Holy ----!  I will never get everything done and I will be homeless and penniless on the streets of Jerusalem!”).  I know there will be a “sadness and/or regret” stage, and I’m sure “terror” is rapidly approaching.  But currently, I’m deep into the “coming to terms with reality” phase.

All of a sudden I’m realizing the depth and extent of what I’m saying goodbye to.  I’ve never, in all my five trips, stepped on a plane to Israel and felt as if I would miss anything in America.  Oh, of course there was always the pang of, “Where will I get a cheeseburger for the next ten months?” or “I’m going to miss out on the latest movie premieres,” but never a genuine, fundamental feeling of loss. 

In just the two years that I’ve really lived in Providence (as opposed to the four years I spent cocooned at Brown), I have met hundreds of people.  I have become truly ensconced in the Rhode Island Jewish community.  From the moment I began teaching at the Harry Elkin Midrasha high school, everything just snowballed.  My colleagues there wanted to introduce me to their friends; students wanted me to meet their parents; and it seemed everyone either wanted to give me a job or find me a boyfriend.  I began advising for the Cranston-Warwick USY and fell in love with the kids, the work, and the sense of community I began to feel with them.  I then had a short stint as Program Director at the Rhode Island Holocaust Memorial Museum.  Although I experienced some difficulties in my position there, it was, for three months, perhaps the most meaningful work I’ve ever done.  I was able to collaborate with people who shared my deep commitment to Holocaust education, and teach hundreds of students and their teachers about a topic that is fundamental to my identity and my professional goals.  One of the deepest regrets of my life is that this job was not ultimately sustainable. 

Through all of this, during the past two years I have become truly a part of this community.  I have friends; I have colleagues; I have people in my life here who value my opinion and my work.  I have had personal relationships that have been deeply meaningful.  I have teenagers who call me at all hours for advice, or to go out for pizza, or for a ride home when they are in trouble.  I have a list of people I can count on if I have my own troubles.  I have had no less than ten people so far offer their homes to me and my dog if I need a place to stay, and I seem to always have a lunch date when I’m free.  This is the first time in my life that I have felt sincerely wanted, and cared about, and valued.  I have come to believe that life is made meaningful only through one’s support system.  I have grown in this environment; I have become more understanding of and knowledgeable about myself.  I know so much more now about what I am capable of – what I can handle, what I need in order to thrive, and what I will not tolerate. I suppose this is also my way of saying thank you to all of you – and you know who you are – for making my life here truly rich.  I am forever changed as a result of the years that you have all spent in my heart, and the years that you will continue to do so.  I have a deep sense of satisfaction with my life here, and part of me wonders why in the world I would want to leave this. 

But I am leaving it, and I have to believe that it will be worth it.  I have to have faith in myself and my ability to build another network around me.  It took me two years to do it this time, and it was hard work.  I hope that it will not take that long in Israel.  I expect to be lonely for quite some time, and I may feel more alone than I ever have, even though I have plenty of friends there.  But I will take so much of this community with me in so many ways, and I know that my support system here will give me the strength and courage to deal with every stage of my aliyah.  Even when I am 10,000 miles away.