Shalom all,

It was a very emotional event: lay leaders and educators of the very first Hebrew school of modern times, “Gymnasia Hertzlia”, gathered in Tel-Aviv to celebrate the beginning of it’s 100th anniversary year. The Gymnasia was established in Jaffa in 1904, the same year Hertzl died. The school moved to Tel-Aviv, the first Hebrew city of modern times in 1909, when Tel-Aviv was established, and immediately became the central and most recognized icon of the young, growing city. It was the place of study, culture, music, thought, art, debate – or, in one simple word, rebirth. The leaders of the new Zionist movement, who later became the first leaders of the state in a variety of areas, attended the magnificent school that was designed to resemble the façade of our ancient temple.

Ever since I started 1st grade, I knew one thing for sure: when I started 7th grade, it would be in the “Gymnasia Hertzlia” in Tel-Aviv. It was a matter of family tradition. The six years I spent at the Gymnasia (that’s all we called it – and, in fact, all over the country, whenever we were asked where we go to school, all we needed to say was “the Gymnasia”, and everyone knew what we meant), were one of the most significant and formative periods of my life. While history books taught us about who we are and where we came from, going to the Gymnasia meant we were actually living it: we were taught by the giants of the first stories, we sang the melodies of the creators of the first songs, and we practiced the renewed traditions with the people who renewed them – including the mischief and pranks that kids do at school. The Gymnasia knew how to embed the pride, the meaning, the sense of ownership and belonging, and the strong sense of commitment toward this land of ours, into our souls. And for everything it gave us, it asked for only one thing in return: to be the best Israeli citizens that we can, always asking “what can we do for our country”, always committed. It was in the atmosphere, in the air, in the water. It became our second nature. When I heard that there was to be a kick-off event for the 100th year, there was no way I would miss it. With the help of another alumni, I crashed the event – a skill I learned at the Gymnasia itself...I found myself standing face to face with my homeroom teacher from 7th grade, an incredible woman who taught me the love of literature and the responsibility of the written word; my math teacher, who always started the lesson with “Liat – out”; my music teacher, who handed me the gift of knowing the entire songs of the land; and our principle, an educator who knew each and every one of us not only by name, but also by our skills and habits. It was a deep sense of coming home again.

How many people can say that they had a love story with their school? That night, once again, I knew I was one of the lucky few.

Shabbat shalom,

Liat