Nurit Barkan-Bocarsly ’13

Posted on January 5, 2024

Hello, my name is Nurit; I am 27 years old and I live in Jerusalem. I am a facilitator for Amitei Bronfman and a history teacher at a high school, which is partially a boarding school, in Jerusalem. I am also doing a master’s degree in sociology and anthropology. I was a Bronfman Fellow in 2013.

The reality in Israel today has a deep impact on the personal lives of each one of us, and, of course, on how our Fellowship is run.

On October 8th, we began to understand the situation we were facing. At the time, I was visiting my partner’s family in New York, and I called the Amitim (Israeli Fellows), some of whom were on vacations around the world. Very quickly, we heard that all of the Amitim were okay, but many of them had family members who were enlisted to serve in the army, and friends, acquaintances, and relatives who were injured. Among the staff, as well, we have family and friends who were in the line of fire, and some of us have experienced losses.

I returned to Israel that week. I already knew that Israel had experienced a collective crisis on that previous Shabbat, but as soon as I arrived, I understood just how much Israel had changed. Near home in Jerusalem there are many hotels, all of which were full of displaced people from the north and the south. Suddenly, overnight, I became the neighbor of people who had experienced being in the line of fire. A student of mine, who attends the boarding school where I work, is now living in one of the hotels.

Through my conversations with him about his life, and my limited interaction with others who now live in this hotel, I realized that there is a big gap in Israeli society today between those who have a home and a sense of security, and those whose home has become a dangerous place.

My encounters with my neighbors in the hotels made me understand that, as facilitators for Bronfman, although we always try to show sensitivity even under normal circumstances, now we have to sharpen that sensitivity even further. For some of the Fellows, their homes have become a borderland, or at least close to the border. In general, for the Fellows, the borders have been crossed between the sense of protection with which they lived their lives until now, to an uncertain reality where they do not have control.

In preparation for the Bronfman seminar that was planned for Hanukkah, we thought a lot about how to make the best possible environment in these horrifying times, and how we could be most responsive to people’s needs. Through our conversations with the Amitim about their experiences now, we understood that in their personal lives, the Fellows are busy with volunteering in various different frameworks. Therefore, we changed the topic of the seminar and decided to really focus on issues of, and approaches to, choosing to take responsibility. As the Fellows have to decide next year what they will do when they finish high school, this topic is relevant even aside from the current reality.

One of the seminar sessions was with former MK (Knesset Member) Nira Shafek from Kfar Azza. She told of her responsibility to rebuild her community, as well as Israeli society as a whole. She spoke honestly and sensitively about her sense of responsibility. In addition, we met people who feel responsible for totally different aspects of Israeli society and have different approaches to the idea of responsibility. We discussed responsibility to the Torah, to the environment, to the relationship of Jews and Palestinians as neighbors, and to Israeli society in general. We learned texts on the topic of “The poor of your city have priority,” and asked the Fellows: What is your city? In what spaces is it important to you to act?

Throughout the seminar, I thought a lot about what my “city” is and what my responsibilities are. As someone who sees herself as invested in and responsible to Israeli society, I feel that there is a lot of work to do to improve it today: gaps between different kinds of peripheries and different kinds of centers, between different sectors, and decisions to make regarding crucial issues of Israeli identity and our relationship with our neighbors.

I feel like one of the most difficult things that I must do today is to hold on to my hope. Hope for a better reality here seems like almost a radical concept — faith that through hard work and open, honest dialogue we can overcome the challenges facing our divided Israeli society and succeed in changing life in Israel. For me, the meeting between the Amitim was moving and life-affirming. It reminded me why I hold on to my hope for change in Israeli society. Although there is a lot of work to be done, this is a struggle where I have many partners.