Shachar May, 22 years old, raised in New Jersey, is a current participant on Tikkun Olam's spring semester coexistence track. Shachar is spending her time on the program volunteering at Gesher Clinic, a psychiatric clinic for asylum seekers and other persons without status in Israel, Porter Center Elderly day center, where she is leading an art class, and Etty Hillelsum Israeli Youth Theater.
“Liminal” is a favorite word of mine. Coming from the Latin “limen,” meaning “threshold”, the word originated to describe a person’s state while they are in the midst of a transformative ritual – the in-between state where they are neither here nor there. These days, it’s an esoteric term used in anthropology and gender studies to describe people who are “betwixt and between” – people who have fallen through the cracks of society and are neither insiders nor outsiders.
As a half-Israeli, half-American, the best word I have for my identity is “liminal”. Growing up, we visited my mother’s family in Israel every year. I half understood the language. I was half familiar with the culture. Coming to Shabbat dinner with my entire extended family feels half like a tourist visit and half like a homecoming. In the States, I introduced myself with my last name, “May”, for almost 5 years to avoid having to explain the pronunciation of my first name. In the social-justice oriented circles I lived and worked in, pro-Israeli stances were unpopular. I resented the time I had spent in Jewish day school because I felt that I had only received biased information. I saw that my upbringing was secluded and lacked diversity.
I often fielded questions about Israeli conflict and culture from non-Jewish friends, and my answers were always ambivalent. I lived with a dual identity in a double-reality. I didn’t know how I felt. I felt that being Israeli was incredibly important to me, but the more I read about the political realities the less I agreed with my country’s actions.