“So you mean that if I don’t like making aliyah, we can all go back to America for good?”
Hi there,
I don’t want to brag or anything, but I was pretty popular back home in New York. You know that kid who always gets picked first for a sports team and who everyone wants to partner with for school projects and who’s always invited to kids’ houses for sleepovers? Well, that was me. I’m not trying to show off, but I had a lot of friends in New York and the kids in my class just really liked me. Yup, that was my old life in New York.
You know what my life is like here? Here, if the kid picking teams at recess can even be bothered to remember my name, he definitely doesn’t pick me first for his team. Maybe he doesn’t know if I’m a good player or maybe he just thinks I won’t understand what my teammates are saying (which I won’t). But honestly? It doesn’t really matter why I get picked last, what matters is that no one likes me here. No one even knows me here. And when someone does act nicely to me by talking to me or including me, I don’t know if it’s because he actually wants to be my friend or because the teacher told him to be nice to the new kid.
I just want to go back to my old friends and my old school. Moving is really hard. I told my parents all this when I got home today after school. I’m not sure what I expected them to respond, but I definitely wasn’t expecting this.
My mother surprised me by telling me, “This move doesn’t have to be permanent, Binyamin. We don’t have to stay here if we all decide that it isn’t the right place for our family.”
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