By Carly Abramson
Stereotypes act as metaphysical borders that separate people from one another. When I think of a Jewish settlement, I automatically think radical, violent, underdeveloped; I could go on and on with negative assumptions. Once I became aware that we were going to stay on a Jewish settlement for Shabbat, I had immediate reservations that stemmed from society’s subconscious “burn book.” Settlement: controversial, dangerous-- got it, understood don’t go there. However, somewhere down the road my hesitancy evolved into curiosity, making me almost eager to experience a lifestyle that I believed would contradict my own.
The moment we arrived to Alon Svhut, my expectations were totally shattered. I was ready to dive into this controversial way of living, but instead I might as well have been back in my quaint suburb in Sugar Land, Texas (minus the fact that Alon Shvut is a Modern Orthodox community and 1/3 of Sugar Land’s size). The settlement was absolutely beautiful and the people at least outwardly seemed pretty average. I expected to be introduced to all of the radical stereotypes I mentally prepared for, but I was welcomed into a lovely home with open arms and unparalleled hospitality! It seemed that life was more peaceful here than in everyday Jerusalem, a concept that is hard to wrap my head around.
During Shabbat lunch I figured I would get to know my host family on a deeper level, and even get a chance to finally talk about some politics. “Why did you really move here?” I was avid to stir the pot, but of course my host family’s answer was relatable and indisputable. “Well, I wanted my kids to have a good education, Jerusalem is too hot in the summer, and honestly these homes are much more spacious and affordable.” Are you kidding me, where is the drama, I thought. “ How can moving here not be a political statement?” So many questions and so many practical answers, truth-be-told if I were Modern Orthodox I would totally consider moving to Alon Svhut.
Later that day a speaker told us about her son’s Bar Mitzvah, and how all of her friends that live on the other side of the fence made up convenient excuses to avoid coming to the settlement. Hearing how un-phased she was by this sparked something inside of me. Stereotypes drive us to our routine destinations. If we continue to be chauffeured by stereotypes we won’t see anything other than variations of ourselves, kind of like seeing ten people in one day wearing the same shirt you bought from Target, varying only in the choice of color. After spending time in Alon Shvut, I decided to take my own car for a spin.
Never in a million years could I have imagined myself comparing a settlement to my home. I was certain that Alon Shvut would be radical, violent, and underdeveloped, but now I am left torn with knowing what settlements represent, and the fact that life actually seems peaceful there. While I am left confused about how I perceive settlements, I am also left with the capability to see beyond my own perceptions. There is a common ground within all of us, but in order to stand on it together we need to remove our metaphysical barriers.
