Israel on 5th - The Non-Parade

They didn't want to call it a parade today. With an exception or two, there was no live music. Families from the hostage forum marched calling, 

"What do we want?" 

"All of them!" 

"When do we want them?" 

"Now!"

I didn't know those details until later. I was marching with a school. By the time the schools got on the route, it felt in many ways very much like the usual parade.

Except there were so many more barriers to limit viewers.

Except that parade viewers had to go through metal detectors. 

Except that this year there were no signs held up calling us "baby killers" or "Zionism = Racism." (Those phrases were used against up well before this war began. Sticks and stones may break my bones but words... We've had so much more now than sticks and stones.)

I danced this year as hard as ever, but the energy was different. Am Yisrael Chai is not a song but a declaration. Hashem Melekh is a prayer. Kol Ha-ulam kulo - the whole world is a narrow bridge. The important thing is not to be afraid.

We marched on that bridge today, holding ourselves together and pushing away the hate. I never believed it before, but now I know. This isn't about politics. This isn't about Palestinians vs. Israelis. This is about our survival and our pride. 

I felt something more than just the pride today. There was a chasm below us, a deep shared grief, and waiting... 

I danced and danced and sang as loud as I could. I waved my flag. I wanted our students to find joy in who they are. Again and again we heard them saying thank you. Thank you to the bus drivers who drove us, thank you to the police. The goodness. We have that goodness inside if only we can keep it bright.

At the end of the route I saw a man holding a photo of one of the hostages. This was before I knew that families were there. He was exhausted, heavy. Was this photo of his daughter? I put my hand on my heart and looked him in the eye. He nodded.