Reflections from the Journey

Before my Birthright trip, my Jewish identity was something I carried. But by the end of Birthright, it felt like something that carries me. 

Meeting the Israeli soldiers during the Mifgash was an experience that changed me. After several days together, they stopped feeling like strangers and became friends. They were our age, yet they carried a responsibility most Americans never do. Through their stories and their actions, I saw how the values we talk about in theory — courage, responsibility, compassion — are something they live by, every day anew. 

On our last night together in Tel Aviv, one of the soldiers asked me: “David, what did you learn from us?” I said I wished more Americans carried the qualities I saw in them, passion without fanaticism, patriotism without arrogance, kindness without naivety, and a deep understanding of their history. I know we still stay in touch, and whenever I return to Israel, I will have friends there to spend Shabbat with.

Throughout the trip, I kept returning to a metaphor our guide shared. Each of us is a link in a chain of Jews stretching across time, connecting our past and our future. The strength of that chain depends on each link holding firm.

The spark I found in Israel came home with me. Since returning, I’ve felt more present, more grateful, and more connected to my Judaism and to Israel. I find myself studying Hebrew, listening to Israeli music, and learning more about Jewish history and identity. 

Birthright didn’t feel like a vacation. It felt more like a return. I arrived at a place I had never been to, yet somehow felt like I had come home to somewhere I had always been from. I discovered a sense of belonging that I still can’t wrap my head around. I left with lifelong friendships, a deeper connection to Israel, and a renewed commitment to live my Judaism and my Zionism with purpose and courage.

I grew up in the Netherlands as a Christian. We celebrated Christmas and Easter, and I went to church with my grandmother. When I was 17, I learned that my grandmother had been Jewish all along. After surviving the Holocaust, she had kept her identity hidden.

When I discovered the truth, I couldn’t help feeling that something in my life had always been missing. I began learning about Judaism, celebrated my Bar Mitzvah, and came to Israel on a Birthright trip. That journey changed everything.

The moment I arrived, I knew I didn’t want to leave. I felt connected to the Jewish people and to Israel, and I wanted to be part of something bigger than myself. With the help of Nefesh B’Nefesh and the Jewish Agency, I made aliyah, studied Hebrew, and enlisted in the IDF, serving in a combat unit in the Nahal Reconnaissance Battalion. 

After completing my service, I returned to the Netherlands for a visit, before beginning my B.A. studies in Israel. On October 7, when I saw the news, I immediately told my parents I was returning to Israel. 

Within days I was back with my reserve unit, responsible for evacuating and rescuing the wounded. Since then, I have served more than 300 days of reserve duty alongside my university studies.

During the war, I appeared before the Knesset Immigration and Absorption Committee to advocate for greater support for lone soldiers in Israel, drawing on my own experience. I’ve also been active with Growing Wings for four years, working to advance legislation to benefit lone soldiers.

Looking back, my Birthright trip was the turning point that set this entire path in motion. It helped me discover who I am, where I belong, and what I want to stand for. 

I didn’t think I would write anything after Birthright, but this past week made me realize just how much the experience affected me. As someone who works in this field, I simply wanted to say thank you. 

Israel’s story is part of my daily life—not only because I grew up here (and also abroad), but because of my work. Yet during that week, Birthright pulled me out of the routine I’m used to. Instead of explaining Israel to journalists, I found myself speaking with people who genuinely wanted to understand, to belong, and to ask questions openly.

Those conversations led me to ask questions of my own. When someone from the outside asks “Why?”, it pushes you to revisit your own answers with renewed clarity.

For me, this wasn’t just a trip. It was an experience that touched both heart and mind, opening honest conversations about identity, politics, Judaism, the army, and small cultural differences that inspired big discussions. They learned a great deal, but so did I. Perhaps even more.

There was one moment I’ll never forget. During a conversation with one of the participants, she paused and said: “I don’t know how you carry all of this on your shoulders, but now I feel like a little of it rests on mine, too.” That stayed with me.

So, thank you, Birthright, for the meaningful role you play. Your spirit was deeply felt. In the way the story was told, in the care with which bridges were built, and in the sense of responsibility that sprouts in someone who suddenly feels they belong.

As a result of this experience, I feel more connected, determined, and at peace with the choice to be here, to stay here, and to tell the story of our beloved country.