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I Want to Make Aliyah, but I Won’t Make My Decision Out of Fear

I refuse to feel like I was kicked out of America or that I had to flee.
[additional-authors]
June 16, 2020

“Please come home.” 

It’s what Israeli Jews say to Diaspora Jews on social media after traumatizing events happen abroad. 

They conveyed this to American Jews after the Pittsburgh synagogue massacre, the attacks in New Jersey and New York and the Poway Chabad shooting. They’re saying it again amid the coronavirus crisis and rioting, looting and violence happening throughout the United States in the wake of George Floyd’s death.

They are encouraging us to make aliyah, to get away from the problems here and to live under the protection of a Jewish military. They say they want us to come and be with our Jewish brothers and sisters in the Holy Land, where we belong. 

I wish it were so simple. 

Don’t get me wrong: I love Israel. I want to live there one day. I could see myself in a nice little apartment by the beach, where my husband and I are happily crammed in with our daughter and future children, waking up every day to the sweet smell that seems to permeate the air.   

Israel has a special place in my heart because it’s where my husband and I got engaged. One snowy January night in Jerusalem, he took me to the Kotel and popped the question. Afterward, with happy tears streaming down my face, I stood in the women’s section — which was completely empty — and davened for our future, feeling HaShem’s presence more strongly than I ever had before. 

I’ve gone back and forth about aliyah many times.

The other times I’ve visited Israel, I’ve cried on the plane trip home. I wasn’t born Jewish but still it feels like I belong there. 

When scary anti-Semitic attacks started to occur in the United States, I collected my documents to make aliyah. But as things began to calm down and I felt safe again, I abandoned my plan. Talking to Americans about it convinced me it was the wrong move. 

So many people told me how hard it is. They’d say, “You know how you make $1 million in Israel? You go with $2 million” or “Oh, it’s much scarier there.” Another excuse I often heard: “A lot of people fail because they don’t connect with the culture and come back to America within a few years.”

I also hesitated because I love America and I enjoy living in Los Angeles. I have a community. I understand the language and the culture. I would be sad to leave my family, friends, synagogue and creature comforts.  

I’ve gone back and forth about aliyah many times. When the coronavirus first hit, I watched a video of Israelis gathering on their porches to sing Pesach songs together. I thought, “I wish I was there.” I wanted to be with my Jewish family. 

It seems as if it’s becomingly increasingly scary to be a Jew in America, with attacks and anti-Israel sentiment coming from people on the left and the right. During the protests in L.A., someone tagged Congregation Beth Israel on Beverly Boulevard  with derogatory comments about Israel. Before the coronavirus pandemic, I refused to attend a synagogue that didn’t have an armed guard, and when shuls are open again, I’ll do the same. Things are getting hostile here for the Jewish community, and I can only pray that history doesn’t repeat itself.

I want to make aliyah. But the truth is, when I do decide it’s time to go, I won’t make my decision out of fear. I refuse to feel like I was kicked out of America or that I had to flee. I want to go to the Holy Land for a positive reason, and hopefully leave behind a country that becomes a better place for everyone to live in. 

For now, I keep thinking about the David Ben-Gurion quote, “In Israel, in order to be a realist, you must believe in miracles.” When I do go, it’ll realistically be the best time for me — and a miracle that I could finally live out my dream.


Kylie Ora Lobell is a Journal contributing writer.

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