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Jewish and Israel News from New York - The Jewish Week
Jerusalem —Kristy Nowak calls her recent brithright trip a life-changing experience.
Knapsacks on their backs and water bottles on their shoulders, a group of birthright israel participants descended a cascade of steep steps carved into the side of the mountain, leading to the wadi below. Above, to their right, they could see the Hebrew University’s Mount Scopus campus. To their left, the golden Dome of the Rock, the grand mosque built atop the Temple Mount, shone in the midday sun.
Descending a dirt path and yet more steep steps, the group of American college students finally arrived at a high pile of rock and dirt, and a large, black, Bedouin-style tent beside it.
Like other birthright participants, the group members had been invited to participate in a unique archaeological experience: to sift through the tons of “debris” that the Muslim Wakf (the Islamic trust that maintains the Temple Mount), dug up with heavy equipment a few years ago in order to build an underground mosque on the sacred mount.
Under the tent, Aran Yardeni, the archaeologist in charge of the salvage operation, told the students that artifacts from numerous eras — but most notably the First and Second Temple periods — had been discovered by archaeologists and thousands of volunteers sifting through the mounds of dirt removed — “illegally,” he said — in dozens of dump trucks. Then he explained how to sift through the dirt and identify ancient glass, pottery, coins and other archaeological treasures.
During the explanation, the students looked not at the archaeologist but at the sign-language interpreters whose hands moved rapidly to convey his words. As in previous years, this year’s crop of 17 deaf and hard-of-hearing birthright participants, who were accompanied by 15 hearing students, were doing exactly what other birthright students do during their brief trips to Israel. They climbed Masada, swam in the Dead Sea and toured the Golan Heights and the Old City of Jerusalem. They even saw an Israel film (with English subtitles) and danced, long and hard, at the program’s mega-event, along with thousands of other birthrighters.
“They are exactly like the other kids, exactly,” said Nadav Ben-Gal, the group’s Hillel tour educator/tour guide, during the archaeological scavenger expedition.
“What’s different,” he added, “is the technical stuff.” According to the group’s organizers and participants, the main challenge has been ensuring adequate communication not only between the American deaf and hearing students, but also between the Americans (deaf and otherwise) and the Israelis they have encountered.
“Logistically,” said Rabbi Jennifer Gurwitz, the Rochester, N.Y., rabbi who accompanied the group, “we needed interpreters in American and Hebrew sign language, and the tour educator had to be aware to remain very visual.”
While hearing people can walk and talk quickly, because they use their eyes to navigate, “deaf people who are signing while walking take things at a much slower pace,” Rabbi Gurwitz noted. “This fact slowed us down. You have to take this into account while planning.”
Ben-Gal needed to ensure that his group had front-row seats at the mega-event, so they could see the translator on stage, and that an interpreter was always available when he wanted to speak. Easier said than done when the tour bus was moving.
“During hikes we had to stop before I could speak,” the guide said, referring to the danger of signing while traversing rugged terrain like the path leading to and from Masada. I’ve learned a lot from this experience.”
So have the hearing students, many of whom knew rudimentary sign language before joining the group, according to Rabbi Gurwitz. “Almost half of our hearing students signed up because of interest in [learning] sign language. The five who knew very little can now hold their own in a conversation” with the deaf kids. “About 10 other students who knew even less sign language can slowly get their point across in sign.” When the students break into groups, Rabbi Gurwitz noted, “the deaf and hearing kids are mixed. They’ve become very adept at realizing what the other needs to communicate; it’s good to see.”
The deaf American students experienced their own learning curve, Gurwitz said, noting that “in less than a day,” the Americans had mastered enough Hebrew Sign Language (HSL) to communicate with the two deaf Israeli soldiers who accompanied the group, and vice versa. “They really bonded,” she said, nodding her head toward the soldiers. Though most birthright students have had a limited Jewish education, this is even more so for deaf students, Gurwitz said.
“Most of the time, students who sign do not have access to Hebrew school or Sunday school and certainly not to Jewish day school due to the limited ability to provide qualified interpreters.”
For this reason, Gurwitz continued, “a disproportionate number of the deaf students have a more limited education and knowledge about Judaism and Israel and Jewish history than most of their hearing counterparts.
“This trip is really remarkable in that we’re seeing people really connect with Israel. They’re connecting with Israel for the first time, even if they’ve come before with their families. Finally, they’re experiencing Israel in sign, their own native language and they can see it and touch it. It’s miraculous to watch.”
Joshua Rappaport, a student at Rochester Institute for Technology’s National Technical Institute for the Deaf, said he had come to Israel on this, his first visit, “to understand the country and the history and to find myself.” Of all of his experiences, Rappaport, 21, called the group’s visit to the Western Wall “a big highlight.”
“When I touched the wall I felt something spreading, like a spirit going through my body,” Rappaport said, his hand re-enacting — literally — the moment of physical contact and the way the energy “went straight from my fingertips to my heart.
“I really want to come back,” Rappaport added. Kristy Nowak, a 24-year-old grad student at Gallaudet University in Washington, D.C., whose students are deaf and hard of hearing, also said the birthright trip has been a life-changing experience.
“I’ve had more exposure to Judaism during my time here than in my whole life. We’ve had group discussions about God, whether we believe in God. How Israel all got started. The importance of the Jewish people and its history. It is such a rich history.”
Nowak, a social work student, said the Israelis she encountered were very open and eager to communicate with her, despite their inability to sign. “In America, people have no common sense when it comes to deciphering gestures,” Nowak said, clearly frustrated. “I can use a simple gesture and Americans won’t understand it. But here in Israel and in other countries, people understand. It’s so much easier.”
More than anything else, Nowak said, the trip has given her the confidence to express her Jewishness more openly.
“Growing up, my family preferred that we not tell people we’re Jewish, due to fears of anti-Semitism,” she confided. “Now I’m going to tell people, ‘Hey, I’m Jewish!’”
On the trip Nowak purchased a sparkling Star of David, which now hangs around her neck. She has extended her stay in Israel for another three weeks, she said, in order to spend time with a cousin and to “connect” with Israel’s deaf community.
It didn’t take a translator to express Nowak’s pride when she revealed that she had chosen a Hebrew name for herself.
“I added the name Chaya to my name,” she signed, happy and serene. “It means full of life.
Jerusalem —Kristy Nowak calls her recent brithright trip a life-changing experience.
Knapsacks on their backs and water bottles on their shoulders, a group of birthright israel participants descended a cascade of steep steps carved into the side of the mountain, leading to the wadi below. Above, to their right, they could see the Hebrew University’s Mount Scopus campus. To their left, the golden Dome of the Rock, the grand mosque built atop the Temple Mount, shone in the midday sun.
Descending a dirt path and yet more steep steps, the group of American college students finally arrived at a high pile of rock and dirt, and a large, black, Bedouin-style tent beside it.
Like other birthright participants, the group members had been invited to participate in a unique archaeological experience: to sift through the tons of “debris” that the Muslim Wakf (the Islamic trust that maintains the Temple Mount), dug up with heavy equipment a few years ago in order to build an underground mosque on the sacred mount.
Under the tent, Aran Yardeni, the archaeologist in charge of the salvage operation, told the students that artifacts from numerous eras — but most notably the First and Second Temple periods — had been discovered by archaeologists and thousands of volunteers sifting through the mounds of dirt removed — “illegally,” he said — in dozens of dump trucks. Then he explained how to sift through the dirt and identify ancient glass, pottery, coins and other archaeological treasures.
During the explanation, the students looked not at the archaeologist but at the sign-language interpreters whose hands moved rapidly to convey his words. As in previous years, this year’s crop of 17 deaf and hard-of-hearing birthright participants, who were accompanied by 15 hearing students, were doing exactly what other birthright students do during their brief trips to Israel. They climbed Masada, swam in the Dead Sea and toured the Golan Heights and the Old City of Jerusalem. They even saw an Israel film (with English subtitles) and danced, long and hard, at the program’s mega-event, along with thousands of other birthrighters.
“They are exactly like the other kids, exactly,” said Nadav Ben-Gal, the group’s Hillel tour educator/tour guide, during the archaeological scavenger expedition.
“What’s different,” he added, “is the technical stuff.” According to the group’s organizers and participants, the main challenge has been ensuring adequate communication not only between the American deaf and hearing students, but also between the Americans (deaf and otherwise) and the Israelis they have encountered.
“Logistically,” said Rabbi Jennifer Gurwitz, the Rochester, N.Y., rabbi who accompanied the group, “we needed interpreters in American and Hebrew sign language, and the tour educator had to be aware to remain very visual.”
While hearing people can walk and talk quickly, because they use their eyes to navigate, “deaf people who are signing while walking take things at a much slower pace,” Rabbi Gurwitz noted. “This fact slowed us down. You have to take this into account while planning.”
Ben-Gal needed to ensure that his group had front-row seats at the mega-event, so they could see the translator on stage, and that an interpreter was always available when he wanted to speak. Easier said than done when the tour bus was moving.
“During hikes we had to stop before I could speak,” the guide said, referring to the danger of signing while traversing rugged terrain like the path leading to and from Masada. I’ve learned a lot from this experience.”
So have the hearing students, many of whom knew rudimentary sign language before joining the group, according to Rabbi Gurwitz. “Almost half of our hearing students signed up because of interest in [learning] sign language. The five who knew very little can now hold their own in a conversation” with the deaf kids. “About 10 other students who knew even less sign language can slowly get their point across in sign.” When the students break into groups, Rabbi Gurwitz noted, “the deaf and hearing kids are mixed. They’ve become very adept at realizing what the other needs to communicate; it’s good to see.”
The deaf American students experienced their own learning curve, Gurwitz said, noting that “in less than a day,” the Americans had mastered enough Hebrew Sign Language (HSL) to communicate with the two deaf Israeli soldiers who accompanied the group, and vice versa. “They really bonded,” she said, nodding her head toward the soldiers. Though most birthright students have had a limited Jewish education, this is even more so for deaf students, Gurwitz said.
“Most of the time, students who sign do not have access to Hebrew school or Sunday school and certainly not to Jewish day school due to the limited ability to provide qualified interpreters.”
For this reason, Gurwitz continued, “a disproportionate number of the deaf students have a more limited education and knowledge about Judaism and Israel and Jewish history than most of their hearing counterparts.
“This trip is really remarkable in that we’re seeing people really connect with Israel. They’re connecting with Israel for the first time, even if they’ve come before with their families. Finally, they’re experiencing Israel in sign, their own native language and they can see it and touch it. It’s miraculous to watch.”
Joshua Rappaport, a student at Rochester Institute for Technology’s National Technical Institute for the Deaf, said he had come to Israel on this, his first visit, “to understand the country and the history and to find myself.” Of all of his experiences, Rappaport, 21, called the group’s visit to the Western Wall “a big highlight.”
“When I touched the wall I felt something spreading, like a spirit going through my body,” Rappaport said, his hand re-enacting — literally — the moment of physical contact and the way the energy “went straight from my fingertips to my heart.
“I really want to come back,” Rappaport added. Kristy Nowak, a 24-year-old grad student at Gallaudet University in Washington, D.C., whose students are deaf and hard of hearing, also said the birthright trip has been a life-changing experience.
“I’ve had more exposure to Judaism during my time here than in my whole life. We’ve had group discussions about God, whether we believe in God. How Israel all got started. The importance of the Jewish people and its history. It is such a rich history.”
Nowak, a social work student, said the Israelis she encountered were very open and eager to communicate with her, despite their inability to sign. “In America, people have no common sense when it comes to deciphering gestures,” Nowak said, clearly frustrated. “I can use a simple gesture and Americans won’t understand it. But here in Israel and in other countries, people understand. It’s so much easier.”
More than anything else, Nowak said, the trip has given her the confidence to express her Jewishness more openly.
“Growing up, my family preferred that we not tell people we’re Jewish, due to fears of anti-Semitism,” she confided. “Now I’m going to tell people, ‘Hey, I’m Jewish!’”
On the trip Nowak purchased a sparkling Star of David, which now hangs around her neck. She has extended her stay in Israel for another three weeks, she said, in order to spend time with a cousin and to “connect” with Israel’s deaf community.
It didn’t take a translator to express Nowak’s pride when she revealed that she had chosen a Hebrew name for herself.
“I added the name Chaya to my name,” she signed, happy and serene. “It means full of life.