Rediscovering Identity and Preserving Tradition through Israel

For most of my life, I was disconnected from my Jewish heritage. Growing up in San Antonio, I was part of a Jewish family, but faith and tradition didn’t play a significant role in my daily life. My parents were more focused on giving me a well-rounded education and ensuring I had opportunities in the world beyond our community. But when my grandfather passed away, I felt a deep void inside of me, as though a piece of my history was suddenly gone. It was then that I decided to visit Israel—a place I had always seen as distant and foreign, yet one that now felt more urgent and important than ever.

The moment I stepped onto the streets of Jerusalem, I was overwhelmed with a feeling I hadn’t anticipated. Jerusalem, where the ancient and the modern collide, had a palpable energy. It was as if the city itself had a story to tell, and suddenly, I felt like I was a part of that story. Standing in the shadow of the Western Wall, walking through the cobbled streets of the Old City, and seeing the rich layers of history, I felt a deep pull—a connection to something that had been absent from my life for years. “It was like a piece of me was waking up after years of being asleep,” I explained to my family when I returned.

After returning to San Antonio, the change in me was unmistakable. I couldn’t ignore the powerful sense of identity I had found. Israel didn’t just give me a deeper understanding of my Jewish heritage—it made me want to actively preserve it. The first thing I did was to get involved in my local synagogue. I began volunteering with the cultural committee, and soon after, I started leading workshops on Sephardic traditions. I spent time learning the stories, the customs, and the foods that had been part of my family’s history for generations. I realized I had a responsibility to pass those traditions down, not just to my own children but to others who might be disconnected from their roots the way I once was.

My everyday life changed in ways I hadn’t imagined. I became more involved in synagogue activities, organizing events that celebrated Sephardic culture, from cooking classes featuring traditional recipes to storytelling nights where we shared the tales of our ancestors. I also started attending more religious services, something that had once felt like a chore but now felt like a vital part of my connection to the community. I began leading services, offering prayers that felt more meaningful now that I understood the significance of each word.

Most importantly, my relationship with my family transformed. I shared my experience with them and made an effort to incorporate more Jewish traditions into our home life. We began lighting Shabbat candles together every week, and I started to understand the importance of those simple rituals. It wasn’t just about religion—it was about creating a space of connection and continuity, a space where I felt grounded in something larger than myself.

Israel didn’t just change my life—it helped me rediscover who I am and why my heritage matters. It gave me the tools to reconnect with my past and, in doing so, gave me a clearer sense of my future.