Group 9 Identity Book

I can not forget my parent’s pranks, they always do pranks and make feel that I am not smarter enough. I remember that when I was in the 5th grade, one time my parents woke me up in the morning as they always did. I asked them, “can I skip school today?”. My Mam responded: “Of course you can, if you get up, get dressed and make your bed quickly enough.” I credulously believed him, and did everything as fast and efficiently as I could…And then realized that it was Friday and it was vacation but it takes me some times to remember that.

by: Asmaa Saleh

it brings me few years back to high school, and to be exact it was “sports day”, at that time we were suppose to play the final match against the boys from the other class, I still feel the ugliness of that day, how the whole crowd were against us just because the players of my team were only Muslims players, the reason for that was because all my classmates  by coincidence were Muslims, we played that day against the best team in the school, the other team happens to be consisting of Druze players, I still remember the crowds shouting at us, threating us, how surprising it was, the boys I thought that were my friends were willing to hurt us. We won that match 1-0, and it felt like it was the end of the world, how ugly the scene was, later that day, the players of the other team came to congratulate us, and every thing returned normal.

by: Majd Shene

I was 9 years old when I went to my first summer camp, there were a lot of children, and the guide decided to divide us into groups. They put me in a group that had kids of the same religion and I was the only one who has a different one, those kids started to play together, and didn’t pay any attention to me, and when I decided to come near them I heard them whispering that I am from different religion and they should keep ignoring me, so I decided to face them by telling that I am proud of my religion which is part of my true identity, and if they don’t like it that’s their problem, suddenly the guide heard us arguing, and told us to respect each other religious beliefs without fighting. I told him my point of view and he decided to call their parents. The next day they came and apologize to me, and we started to play together. At the end of the camp, we became friends who accept each other without any kind of judgment.

by: Akram Khalaily.

when I read the task, the first thing that flashed in my memory is me in the 7th grade walking between books in the library at school, In that day I was curious about the new books that arrived, and wanted to read them all, I remember the smell very well. I choose  (عن الرجال والبنادق) book (About men and guns) for Ghassan Kanafani. so, I decided to read more and more especially that type of book, which talks about war and prison literature. from that day I recognized what I like to read and figure out my identity as a young reader, and now I hope I could read foreign books not translated ones, such as the Police literature (Crime and Punishment) for Dostoevsky.  

by: Malak Hijazi.

I was 11 years old, when  I fought for my name, I remember  It was a cool Sunday morning in the Spring, I was alone, in a corner, my ball hit  the tall walls in my School when  I decided to play in my family team  for the first time in “The Annual Jewish Communitarian Tournament of Volleyball.”

My stepfather funded that project, He organized the event to integrate sports, and strengthen the personal links in the Jewish community

Every year Sixteen family teams played in the four volleyball fields of my school.

But my “new uncles”, didn’t like the idea, They wanted to win the tourney there were much stronger players than me, they didn’t know me, I suppose that they didn’t like the idea to let me be part of the Levy’s family but for me, it was essential.  I was prepared to fight, I trained myself alone; I was ready to prove that I  had a place in the team. We played, for hours, until the end, We were champions that year, I deserved finally my T-shirt, with it I acquired my new identity.

by: Moshe Levy Roberto.

In the story “Los intersticios: Recasting moving selves” we read some negative stories dealing with identity, my childhood experience is positive.

My parents came from England and got married here in Israel. As a baby, they used to talk to me only in English. Until the age of three I was at home with my mother. When I came to kindergarten for the first time I didn’t know a word in Hebrew, I was different from all the other kids. But they didn’t care, they all came to talk to me and play with me even without the language. Thanks to them, in a week or two I was already talking Hebrew fluently. The children in my kindergarten let me be myself and liked me as I am; maybe children are better at accepting different people than adults.

By: Avigal Baruch.