We started our day with a walk through south Tel Aviv to a neighborhood called Florentine. Originally an immigrant community comprised of Sephardic Jews, Florentine is a text book example of gentrification. Decades ago the immigrants moved elsewhere and the students moved in. Then came the artists. Then came the hipsters. And now there are multimillion dollar high rises popping up everywhere. We went to Florentine because Florentine is famous for its graffiti and its street art.
Aside from being incredibly cool and provocative, Israeli street art and graffiti are also incredibly complex. Different artists, different messages, different mediums, different languages. The list goes on. Block after block, building after building, alleyway after alleyway, are covered with graffiti. Even the graffiti is covered with graffiti.
Walking around Florentine it's hard not to feel cool and boring at the same time. Cool because you're in Tel Aviv engaging with the often very adult themes of the art. Boring because... well... when was the last time you did anything with a can of spray paint?
Florentine is a testament to human creativity and our deep need for self expression. Florentine is a an invitation for each of us to engage with rather than mindlessly accept the powerful forces that shape our lives. Culture, politics, religion, economics... When we respond to these powerful forces rather than simply let them have their way with us, we take charge of our lives and become, in a sense, activists. Or at the very least, more interesting dinner party guests. Hopefully some of our kids were energized by our provocative morning. If not today, then hopefully they one day accept the invitation to respond. To find their voice. To speak their truth. And if not, they can at least report back that their school took them to see walls that sometimes had bad words written all over them.
From Florentine we walked to the heart of Tel Aviv. First we spent some time on Independence Trail. For those of you that have been to Boston, think "Freedom Trail" meets Mr. O'Dell's Jewish Studies class. The main takeaway from the Independence Trail is that back in 1909 Tel Aviv simply didn't exist. It's through the sheer power of human ingenuity infused with a healthy dose of Chutzpah, that this incredible city pulses with life today. While the historical sites are cool to see, it's really the juxtaposition of the old and the new that makes Tel Aviv so compelling. Every step of the way today we saw (and heard) new constructions. In the historical district of Tel Aviv any new high rise has to be built on top of and therefore include the historical building underneath it. Meanwhile, it seems like every last inch of available space is spoken for.
Hungry (for it had been at least a few hours), we went to Shuk HaCarmel (The Carmel Market). Our time there was limited (fear not, for we shall return), so we really only had a chance to race through the market and use our lunch vouchers. Even so, a little freedom goes a long way and I can confidently say that they had a good time.
After lunch we boarded our busses for the first time since arriving at our hotel. We left Tel Aviv and headed to the Ayalon Institute. There we learned about 45 young Israelis (a number not so far off from the number of 8th graders in the class of 2022) who did something truly incredible between 1945 and 1948. The 45 were all members of a Zionist youth organization. They had big plans to create a Kibbutz so that they could bring their utopian vision to life. Instead, they were approached by a high ranking officer of the Haganah (the proto-IDF that fought for Israel's independence during the British Mandate period). When invited to make a great sacrifice in service of the future state of Israel, the 45 agreed even without knowing the details of what they would be asked to do. As it turned out, they would spend 6 days a week for the next 3 years in a clandestine underground facility making 9mm bullets for use by the Haganah. Each day they risked their lives. Each day they endured the ear splitting noise of the machinery. They had to subject themselves to UV light and take dietary supplements. The majority of them were women. On a daily basis they made approximately 10,000 bullets. No accidents. No explosions. No deaths. All told, their 2.5 million bullets were instrumental in Israel's successful effort to fend off the attacking armies during this incredibly difficult time. Had they not accepted the invitation to make this sacrifice, the world might look different today.
From Ayalon we went to Rabin Square. Rabin Square is the site where Prime Minister Yitzchak Rabin was assassinated in 1995. Rabin Square is difficult for many reasons. The content is hard, the area is noisy due to car and foot traffic, and there's a huge gap between those that remember Rabin's assassination and the younger generations for which it's just another historical event. At Rabin Square we tried to impress upon the kids the power of Rabin's legacy. Rabin made his name as a military commander and eventual chief of staff. In essence he was a soldier. But in his later years and during his term as prime minister, he accepted the invitation to change his approach toward securing Israel's future. In doing so, he became Israel's greatest champion for peace. In doing so, he accepted the fact that he would be labeled a traitor by those who disagreed with him. That he was assassinated by a fellow Jew is a violation that still reverberates in Israeli society today. As of yet, no one has accepted the invitation to heal.
Add to all this, a bit more time shopping in Jaffa and some very warm and loving visits from Israeli family and friends, and you have the makings for a very full day.
Layers upon layers, invitation after invitation. That's what we encountered today. The invitation to push back against rather than simply surrender to the powerful forces that shape us. The invitation to build and rebuild and bring our dreams to life. The invitation to shed an identity grounded in power for an identity willing to die for peace. Tel Aviv is an invitation to live boldly. An invitation to paint our truth on the wall for everyone to see. An invitation turn sand dunes into skyscrapers. An invitation to write ourselves into the unfolding story of the Jewish people. An invitation to make the most of the precious perishable moment in which we live.
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