Our upcoming trip for Israel is just around the corner, and naturally, I thought of my Israeli English teacher friends who still remember me and work at a small regional High School called Emek Hahula in the Upper Galilee, a place I have written about for my upcoming book Accidental Soldier: A Memoir of Service and Sacrifice in the Israel Defense Forces.  

I emailed an old friend and colleague about the possibility to host me for a book talk or author event. Knowing that it would be scheduled for the summer, (if it was a go) I figured she’d tell me that most people are away, but then I found this in my inbox:

 

I talked to some teachers on the staff (the ones that remember you) about the book and that you are willing to have an event with it, they didn’t show much interest (I’m sorry to say that), but they don’t show interest in anything that is out of schedule.

People here live in a groove, don’t go anywhere, just sit at home and watch TV. I think it will be not easy to find any takers.

What they told me is that IDF is a common subject here and you can’t surprise anyone about it especially in English.

 

This is what I emailed back:

 

“Thank you for painting this realistic picture. Israelis were never my primary target audience, that I know. Not for purposes of writing the book and not for my own creative writing efforts. You also confirmed for me why I could never write this kind of memoir in Israel. And it also confirms why I left Israel to avoid the Professional Brain Drain. In America, as you probably know, the subject of the Israel Defense Forces is so fresh and appealing and unique because the army is a separate part of the  American people. I’d rather continue getting good reviews from positive readers than running down “my people.”

I think the *”peripheria” is one problem. I am speaking about the book in Jerusalem to a few groups who are only too happy to have me talk about the book. I am grateful for their enthusiasm. A book without enthusiastic readers is not a book.

And you also confirmed for me why I couldn’t survive anymore as a professional in Israel. I am more than a teacher. Being around boring, dull people is not my way to live.”

**The peripheria are the remote parts of Israel that are typically developmental towns

With just a few months before this book gets birthed, I am reminded how important it is to have the courage to believe in your book. 

The courage to believe.

Let me share with you a short story — years ago, I kept a dialogue journal with my teacher friend. Let’s call her Sarah. I kept a journal of the various English lessons I taught, and in that dialogue journal, Sarah gave me feedback on the lessons so I could have a better time managing the cultural classroom. I had a lot of discipline problems at the beginning as a new teacher.

I confided in her. Why were Israelis so coarse, abrasive and unaccepting to my ideas during professional development type courses? Why didn’t they want to hear my successes when I had a breakthrough.

I’ll never forget the words she wrote. She said: “Israelis don’t like to hear of another person’s success.”

So for the next seven years, I would hide all the successes I had experienced. I’d share it just with a select few teachers mainly Sarah. Because I didn’t believe anyone had faith in me.

When I was among native Israeli-born teachers, I stayed silent because I knew I was “the -English speaking American” who wasn’t taken seriously.

When my husband and I finally left Israel in 2007, I knew I had to find a new tribe of creative writers and thinkers and to be in an environment where I could take myself seriously, if no-one else would.

It is from this place I birthed Accidental Soldier.

I could have never written this book in Israel. Never.

The voices there silenced me. And when Sarah told me that the IDF is a common subject here and you can’t interest anyone,’ it reminded me that years after serving in the IDF. I kept silent because I knew intuitively, that no-one would really care in reading my story, no matter how many times I would write in my journal back in 1990: “I intend to write a journal of my experiences in the IDF one day.”

It was a painful reminder in my life of what it felt like to not be taken seriously.

So what does this all have to do with courage?

  1. For authors reading this, you are the only one who can champion your book’s success no matter the naysayers, against the people who think your subject is boring and commonplace like the IDF
  2. If you even question their beliefs and their psychological motives, they will have won you over. You have to have a certain kind of courage that keeps you focused on your book’s message. So why is your book important?

 

I know in my heart, that from the readers who have already given Accidental Soldier a thumb’s up, or a positive review, have given my courageous heart back, and to them, I am eternally grateful.

I left Israel with no job, no family waiting for us in Pittsburgh, and just three suitcases. I emerged with something and in the process of learning the craft of writing, I became a somebody.

 

This is my story of courage. Everyone has one. Dig deep and you, too, will find your message of courage and why you’re doing what you’re doing now.

I have proven to myself that I don’t need to win “my people” over. And ironically, the Association for Americans and Canadians in Jerusalem are only too happy to host me for a talk. So it all depends on who is rooting for you on the other side…