Just today, I received an email with a link to an article called "The Stranger" by Georg Simmel. It is a short, three page article that attempts to explain the phenomenon of "the stranger" in any society, and why he essentially stays that way.
Most recently, I have been struggling with developing a career path in Israel, my chosen home. Simmel argues that the "stranger" will never really become a part of the group as he has not been with it from the beginning. Succeeding as a trader that bridges between worlds, he will become obsolete once his services are no longer rendered, yet may choose to remain where he is albeit forever remaining an objective outsider.
When I moved to Israel in 2006, I did so because I felt that as an American Jew on a U.S. university campus, Israel wasn't doing enough to protect us against the constant delegitimization of Israel and Jewish people by anti-Israel groups. I felt like I was fighting for my very existence in the minds and hearts of my fellow American citizens, and I promised that I would do my best to help shape the particularly awful public relations that Israelis were producing in the American media.
So I picked up, immigrated to Israel, and joined the army, accepting nothing less than enlistment into the Spokesperson's Unit. I very quickly learned that I would not penetrate the ranks of the IDF's media spokespeople. Instead, I dealt with public appeals and international inquiries. As time went on, I transferred to the Civil Administration, both in the Hebron district and then in their headquarters. I met with representatives of various foreign governmental and humanitarian organizations, doing my tiny part to project Israel in a positive light.
At the time, I felt it was best to attend my friend's wedding in the US that happened to be the same weekend that Officer's Training School was starting. So I made peace with my decision to be released from the army sans OTC so that I could continue to get a master's degree on my own time. Only after my degree would I try and return to the ranks of my army unit in an effort to help create positive public relations as a reflection of good policy that I would help formulate.
Since I was released in 2008, I've attained a Master's degree in Public Policy from Tel Aviv University, all while volunteering my time at various non-profit organizations in order to be exposed to greater sectors of Israeli society. Now that I'm through with my education-related obligations, its time for me to develop my career.
Now, I've had a pretty difficult time dissolving myself into the Israeli work force, and after reading Simmel's article, I'm beginning to understand that I am basically doomed since well, I'll never really be a part of the group (Israel) since I was not a part of it from the beginning.
Just this past week, I've begun to inquire returning to the Civil Administration. I was told I had no chance in the Foreign Relations branch- as I was up against another 8 Americans, 2 Swedes and a Dane in my same position. Even with a M.A. in Public Policy, it was just assumed that I would look to return to Foreign Relations solely because I come from America. What about economic policy? Environmental policy? Infrastructure Development? But no. No one thought to check my compatibility in those departments. As such, I will continually be "massed" into the group of "foreigners" that are living in Israel, regardless of how hard I try to separate myself from them. Translation services, online marketing for useless products, and English speaking customer service call centers seem to be the current trend for many Americans that I've been in contact with.
In this country, my two degrees and experience in vast areas of public service means essentially nothing. Living in Israel and coming from America, it is who you know and who you have developed relationships that will get you in through the door, as a resume will most certainly just end up in the trash can.
If I have one regret, it was giving up on the opportunity to push towards officer's training school when I was still in my compulsory army service. My long history of putting others constantly before myself is finally rearing its consequences. I've been so busy making sure that everyone around me is filled up and I've left myself nothing, in all areas of my life.
When I immigrated to Israel, I was made to believe that as a Jew, I was coming home. It's a dichotomy. While Israel is home to the Jewish people, the virtue of being Jewish is not enough to make Israel your home. Perhaps I'll be the "trader" for the rest of my life here in Israel, peddling my ideas for love and unity. And perhaps the day I become "Israeli" will be the day I lose my identity as an American. Either way, something's gotta give.
Most recently, I have been struggling with developing a career path in Israel, my chosen home. Simmel argues that the "stranger" will never really become a part of the group as he has not been with it from the beginning. Succeeding as a trader that bridges between worlds, he will become obsolete once his services are no longer rendered, yet may choose to remain where he is albeit forever remaining an objective outsider.
When I moved to Israel in 2006, I did so because I felt that as an American Jew on a U.S. university campus, Israel wasn't doing enough to protect us against the constant delegitimization of Israel and Jewish people by anti-Israel groups. I felt like I was fighting for my very existence in the minds and hearts of my fellow American citizens, and I promised that I would do my best to help shape the particularly awful public relations that Israelis were producing in the American media.
So I picked up, immigrated to Israel, and joined the army, accepting nothing less than enlistment into the Spokesperson's Unit. I very quickly learned that I would not penetrate the ranks of the IDF's media spokespeople. Instead, I dealt with public appeals and international inquiries. As time went on, I transferred to the Civil Administration, both in the Hebron district and then in their headquarters. I met with representatives of various foreign governmental and humanitarian organizations, doing my tiny part to project Israel in a positive light.
At the time, I felt it was best to attend my friend's wedding in the US that happened to be the same weekend that Officer's Training School was starting. So I made peace with my decision to be released from the army sans OTC so that I could continue to get a master's degree on my own time. Only after my degree would I try and return to the ranks of my army unit in an effort to help create positive public relations as a reflection of good policy that I would help formulate.
Since I was released in 2008, I've attained a Master's degree in Public Policy from Tel Aviv University, all while volunteering my time at various non-profit organizations in order to be exposed to greater sectors of Israeli society. Now that I'm through with my education-related obligations, its time for me to develop my career.
Now, I've had a pretty difficult time dissolving myself into the Israeli work force, and after reading Simmel's article, I'm beginning to understand that I am basically doomed since well, I'll never really be a part of the group (Israel) since I was not a part of it from the beginning.
Just this past week, I've begun to inquire returning to the Civil Administration. I was told I had no chance in the Foreign Relations branch- as I was up against another 8 Americans, 2 Swedes and a Dane in my same position. Even with a M.A. in Public Policy, it was just assumed that I would look to return to Foreign Relations solely because I come from America. What about economic policy? Environmental policy? Infrastructure Development? But no. No one thought to check my compatibility in those departments. As such, I will continually be "massed" into the group of "foreigners" that are living in Israel, regardless of how hard I try to separate myself from them. Translation services, online marketing for useless products, and English speaking customer service call centers seem to be the current trend for many Americans that I've been in contact with.
In this country, my two degrees and experience in vast areas of public service means essentially nothing. Living in Israel and coming from America, it is who you know and who you have developed relationships that will get you in through the door, as a resume will most certainly just end up in the trash can.
If I have one regret, it was giving up on the opportunity to push towards officer's training school when I was still in my compulsory army service. My long history of putting others constantly before myself is finally rearing its consequences. I've been so busy making sure that everyone around me is filled up and I've left myself nothing, in all areas of my life.
When I immigrated to Israel, I was made to believe that as a Jew, I was coming home. It's a dichotomy. While Israel is home to the Jewish people, the virtue of being Jewish is not enough to make Israel your home. Perhaps I'll be the "trader" for the rest of my life here in Israel, peddling my ideas for love and unity. And perhaps the day I become "Israeli" will be the day I lose my identity as an American. Either way, something's gotta give.
I don't know how relatable you'll find it, but reading your blog post reminded me of how I've been placed in the ally and supporter category when I wanted to be accepted as part of the in-group or among natives/colleagues (generally, I'm talking about clubs, social justice movements, and the occasional work situation). Sometimes it was about backing off and letting people accept me on their own terms (like because my privilege was showing and I didn't really get to claim insider), which sucks and is hard to hear. And sometimes the key was telling people: you are being exclusionary and wrongfully assuming things about me, my aptitudes, and my desires.
ReplyDeleteIt's tough to know which case is which. I would imagine there will be Israeli-born Israelis who will never see you as one of them and others who will find your geographical origins less important. It's way easier when it's just among friends and not bolstered by institutional hurdles and discrimination. Good luck sounds kind of inadequate... but nevertheless, good luck!