Describe something you learned in high school

Imagine being a 16 year old international high school student substituting your 11th grade year American History elective for the chance to travel Israel and learn her legendary history. You’re so incredibly pissed off at your family for sending you to this place, and you’re actively rebelling due to some pretty severe unrealized abandonment issues. It’s December 1999. The world is getting ready to end and you’re walking up the side of a Mesa on the boarder of the Sinai Desert with 12 classmates and two really cute armed IDF escorts.

If that seems totally impossible, don’t worry. I’ve got you.

As I trekked up the winding paths of Masada, the sun beating down on my back, I couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement mixed with a touch of apprehension to be at the top already. It was my first and last time hiking up a 2 mile cliffside in the middle of a desert. The ascent was challenging, the rocky terrain testing my endurance, but the breathtaking views of the desert landscape unfolding beneath me kept me pushing forward. With each turn, the ancient fortress grew closer, its weathered walls standing as silent witnesses to centuries of history.

Reaching the summit was both a triumph and a humbling experience. One would imagine something resembling a structure but instead you are slapped in the face with one of the most incredible 360 degree views on Earth.

It was at that moment I understood why Herod chose this place for a palace- fortress.

Exploring the ruins, I was struck by the resilience of the Jewish rebels who had made their last stand against the Roman army here nearly two millennia ago.

Their story echoed through the silent chambers and crumbling walls, a testament to the human spirit’s enduring strength in the face of adversity.

The ignorant, selfish, spoiled 16 year old girl that walked up that mountain never came back down. For she learned a lesson from the land that can never be taken away.

Underneath the stories is a lesson bore by blood. Masada stands as a symbol of the strength it takes to form identity.

Beautiful yet hostile her stones still stand. The keeper the papyrus secrets since 66 C.E. The identity imprinted by the energy of that land deep inside of me.