Ad Hoc Israel Final Portfolio

My Hebrew Odyssey
a portfolio by

Alexander D Peterson

University of Washington Honors Program
Ad Hoc Project

Conducted under the direction of

Professor Naomi Sokoloff

Summer 2018

2
Contents

Program Description and Duration . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 3

Part 1: Weekly Journal Reflections with Interview Notes . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 4 - 26

Week 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5 - 7
Week 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 8 - 10
Week 3 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11 - 13
Week 4 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 14 - 16
Week 5 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17 - 22
Week 6 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 23 - 26

Part 2: Book Summaries . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 27 - 39

Summary 1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 28 - 31
Summary 2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 32 - 35
Summary 3 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 36 - 39

Final Reflection . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 40-41

3
Study Abroad Program

General Info

From July 27th to September 10th, I studied modern Hebrew in an ulpan offered by Tel
Aviv University in Israel. On my first day in Israel, I took a placement test and was offered a
seat in level 4B, which is considered “middle intermediate.” Each day, classes were held from
8:30am to 1:00pm, with breaks. Each Thursday, we took weekly exams lasting roughly two
hours. Classes were conducted almost entirely in Hebrew and students were expected to
give regular verbal presentations, generally one every two weeks. Students received grades
for all class activities throughout the summer, and a final transcript has been requested.

4

Part 1:

Reflections and Interview Notes

5
Alexander Peterson
Honors Ad Hoc Journal Reflections
Reflection 1 — The First Week of Immersion
After arriving in Israel a week ago, each day has carried a variety of sizable challenges,
moments of poignant appreciation, and exciting states of uncertainty. Before embarking on this
experience, I would often describe to my friends two main expectations of my six weeks in
Israel: I was going to dread the relentless Middle East heat, but I was adequately equipped in
Hebrew to operate in basic settings, so I wasn’t too worried about the quality of my coming
experience. After seven days, both of these assumptions have turned out to be false. Perhaps
the early days of August this year are not sporting their usual atmospheric conditions, but the
humidity and heat throughout my time here have been nothing like the sweat-boiling outdoor
oven that I thought had been described to me. In fact, I find the glaring sun mixed with the
occasional ocean breeze quite comfortable even in the middle of the day. It came as a shock
that the only sun-related ailment I have thus far experienced was a chafing burn from my
sandals I haven’t needed to wear in nine years. Of my two debunked assumptions, this I
consider a pleasant surprise. The other, however, a sobering confrontation.
Even before leaving to Israel, I felt comfortable being able to translate any basic need
into Hebrew, so that even if I did not know the words for “My door is locked and the keys were
never given to me during orientation”, for example, I would still be able to get my point across
with “Apparently, I don’t have the correct key to go into my room. Can you help me find
something that is going to work?”. I had even practiced ordering food, buying groceries, and
introducing myself to TAU affiliates before arriving. Upon exiting Ben Gurion airport to hail a taxi,
I asked in Hebrew, “Hello, do you know when a taxi is going to arrive to that I can go to Tel Aviv
University?”
I couldn’t make out a single word of his response.
If the Zionists of past decades could struggle to abandon their home tongues and even
maintain the discipline to speak Hebrew in their private households, I could at least try once
more to hold onto my Hebrew and not ask for assistance in English. Yet again, however, his
response was completely unintelligible to me. In a fashion that would soon be regrettably too
frequent, I meekly asked “Atta medeber anglit?” For better or for worse, he did, and I soon got a
taxi to Tel Aviv University Einstein dormitories.
Without providing an exhaustive summary of each encounter and activity of my week, I

think my overall experiences can be summed up in a few basic categories: classroom time,
encounters with Hebrew in Israeli life, and interactions with my roommate.
6
On my first day I had the pleasure of meeting my roommate Abdelwahid, a man in his
late 20s from Morocco with no less than six languages to his repertoire. After practicing some
Hebrew with one another for a while, I was convinced he was at a higher level in Hebrew than
me considering his speed of articulation. Despite this, his experience with Hebrew in a formal
setting, he explained, was non-existent. As the week passed and he and I discussed what we
had learned in our respective levels (he in 2a and me in 4b), I found myself teaching him a lot of
new words and transitory grammar articles. I say this not to justify myself or my proficiency, but
rather to emphasize a fact of my own development in Hebrew that has become very clear to me
this week — that my verbal and listening skills have a lot of catching up to do. With Abdel’s
limited Hebrew vocabulary, he felt at liberty to express what he could, and he did it quite fluidly.
I, on the other hand, struggled through most sentences I wanted to construct, at least in verbal
environments. In writing, I have quickly incorporated new learning and can fluidly type on my
Hebrew keyboard in conversation with others. For me, I need to challenge myself to listen and
speak more. Fortunately, Abdel has been more than happy to set aside time in the day where
he and I only speak Hebrew for a few hours.
Near the end of this week, I asked Abdel whether he thought his background in Arabic
makes learning Hebrew easier for him, adding also that I would like to interview him in the
coming days on his Hebrew-learning experience. He explained that the languages are similar in
their construction and root system, going on to give examples of shared origin, like with the
word “sun” and the binyanim for verb conjugation. In my interview with him this coming week, I
am excited to inquire more of the particulars of how his knowledge of Arabic factors into his
acquisition of this other Semitic language.
Regarding classes, I am being challenged to “sink or swim.” On my first day, I

understood roughly 30% of the lecture. The stress, however, seems to have had a positive
effect on my listening comprehension, as my understanding has risen to roughly 80-90% of the
lectures near the end of the week. Classes last from 8:30am to 1:00pm with two breaks, and
during that time, all instruction is in Hebrew. Similar to my experiences at UW, there is a strong
emphasis on reading texts with a theme, the first of which was about intriguing solutions that
have been offered to solve the global food shortage. We learned of the various applications of
the root gimmel-dalet-lamed in descriptions of plants, towers to nurture said plants (migdalim),
and a new way to describe processional actions (holech v-gadel and holech v-mitzamtzem). To
fully comprehend the text, I researched roughly half of the words in the text.
That last point leads me to a key piece of insight that I have discovered in this ulpan. Not
everyone learning Hebrew will learn the same set of nouns or verbs in their basic levels. While
the last day of class was devoted to learning how to conjugate “yachol” in the future and past
tenses (something I had already been very acquainted with from UW), I could not shake the
feeling that my peers knew strikingly more words than I did. At the same time, however,
oftentimes the instructor would introduce a word that I had heard hundreds of times, followed by
nearly everyone in class writing the new word in their journals. I can understand how this reality
would develop for nearly any language class. If I was teaching English to college students,
7
would I teach them the word for “electrical outlet” before “bench”? “To laugh” before “to cry”? “To
be” or “not to be”? (sorry). While this class is challenging me to acquire hundreds (no
exaggeration) of words to even fully understand the lessons, I do not believe that I am too
“linguistically disadvantaged” to learn at the pace I ought. During our first test, we had a
passage followed by numerous questions, along with a variety of matching, fill-in-the-blank,
conjugations, and creative writing. Admittedly, I am not used to struggling in Hebrew tests so
much that I cannot fully complete the test, but I was I think, pleased, that Tel Aviv University
introduced me to such an experience. While I have not received my grade as of writing this
reflection, I believe I performed somewhere in this 80-90% range, less than I am generally
comfortable with but seemingly in the expected range for someone in the proper placement
level of an intensive course of this nature.
Aside from class time, my afternoons and weekends have been peppered with strictly
Hebrew interactions. I visited the market to buy food, rode four busses to explore the city of Tel
Aviv, rode in a taxi, and asked a store owner if she could convert my 100 shekels into two
50-shekel notes. All of these were technically successful in terms of accomplishing what I set
out to do, though some with less difficulty. And admittedly, when asking people for directions, I
often politely listen to their fast-paced Hebrew responses without knowing what they are telling
me, hoping to get closer to the location via their hand gestures so that my next interaction might
be more succinct (ie. “just around the corner”). These interactions have appropriately prompted
me to learn words such as “left”, “right”, “straight”, and “stairs.”
Having read half of Ilan Stavan’s “Resurrecting Hebrew” as of this writing and reflecting
on my own journey learning Hebrew, I am thrilled to observe a deep feeling of connection to the
language that I cannot yet fully elucidate. The notion of joining in a tradition, learning the
language of of the Davinic Kingdom (though yes, not the only language spoken by the domain)
as homage to the creation of a Jewish state, makes me feel as a small member of an idyllic
project unmatched in human history. Although I have no ethnic ties to Judaism (that I know
of…), learning Hebrew for me is affirming the merits of a movement to preserve an ethnic,
religious, and national identity through a bonding agent that sources from antiquity. Learning
Hebrew also brings me closer to my own Christian faith, as I feel a stronger connection to the
wills and plans of the God who has offered redemption time and time again throughout history. I
hope to funnell this passion and excitement into quick acquisition of new words and grammar
while I am here while also growing an appreciation for the existence of such a language today.
8
Alexander Peterson
Reflection 2 — Travels and a Growing Need for Language
As I reflect upon my second week in Israel, my mind is predominantly filled with

excitement for how much more seamless my understanding of Hebrew is compared to that of
last week. Tel Aviv University has scheduled a variety of excursions around the country, often
necessitating long bus rides. I have lately been affectionately referring to these trips as
“Immersion on the Road” as I often have the opportunity to sit with someone new and
communicate only in Hebrew. On the trip to the ancient city of Caesarea, I had the opportunity
to talk with a student at TAU who was fluent in Hebrew, and I distinctly remember actually
laughing in excitement when I realized I was understanding the vast majority of everything this
person was saying to me. It transpired precisely how one would picture: she was telling me
about some of her favorite things to do in Israel and seemingly unprovoked, I smile spread
across my face, serving only as a meager dam to hold back squeals of joy. I promptly explained
my reaction, in Hebrew of course, and the conversation continued.
In particular, I am proud to say that I have not asked once whether someone spoke
English during shopping errands, asking for directions, or ordering food this week. My Hebrew
has been improving and my listening comprehension in particular has been much more adept.
Whereas before I would seek to translate every word I heard into English in order to understand,
I am beginning to associate Hebrew words with their actions and objects. Without having to use
the middleman of English as much while I listen to people speak, I can much more efficiently
follow the conversation. Perhaps, as the Dunning-Kruger effect posits, I am too ignorant of the
vast expanse of Hebrew I have yet to learn to fully understand my current position on the
proficiency scale, but I do feel as though vocabulary, as opposed to grammar and syntax, is my
primary need at this point. Whenever I was unable to understand what someone was telling me
in Hebrew, I would be able to pick out the word I had not learned and ask what it meant. My
personal goal, therefore, is to learn at least 20 new words per day.
Class has remained at roughly the same difficulty and challenge as last week, which is
both expected and appreciated. I am beginning to understand more of the lectures, and as a
result, I am able to participate more meaningfully in class and provide more thoughtful answers.
We have been learning a lot about different ways to construct comparative, purpose-action, and
cause-result sentences. For example, sentences like, “Due to the quick thinking of the doctors,
all of the patients were saved, whereas otherwise, only some would be saved,” and “For the
purpose of reducing pollution, the group decided to stop driving to the store.” These types of
words have been very helpful for my Hebrew communication skills, as these are words I use
constantly in regular conversations with people in English.
9
Other than these types of words, we have been learning extensively about hifil verbs and
their conjugation rules. Before coming to Israel, I was under the impression that the different
verb binyanim was simply different ways to construct verbs, not indicative of the nature of the
verb’s meaning. Although I had heard that certain binyanim are “more geared toward reflexive
actions” or are “causative,” I thought this was more of a factoid instead of a useful way to
conceptualize new verbs that I learned. However, with a solid foundation in a variety of Hebrew
roots and a strong understanding of the nature of different verb binyanim, one can, in some
circumstances, already “know” new words without needing to be formally introduced to them.
For example, although I had never been introduced to the verb “to scare” (‫)להפחיד‬, I assumed
that the root “‫ ”פחד‬in the hifil binyan would imply that the subject is causing someone to become
afraid (to scare). To my great satisfaction, I then confirmed this was indeed the case. I hope to
continue growing my knowledge of roots and the binyanim this week especially.
I also had the opportunity this week to interview my roommate Abdelwahid about his
experiences learning Hebrew. Below are my notes from this interview, paraphrasing questions
and answers:
Interview #1 (Abdel):
Q: Can you remind me which languages you can speak?
A: English, French, Moroccan Arabic (intermediate in Egyptian Arabic and can generally
understand most dialects of Arabic), Spanish, Portuguese, and Italian. I also have a limited
understanding of Catalan.
Q: What are your motivations for learning Hebrew?
A: Well, heritage reasons first of all. Hebrew relates to my family and the Middle East region in
general. Hebrew has a very interesting and complex history, and learning Hebrew also connects
with my academic interests, like North African Jewish studies and anything to do with recent
history of Moroccan Jews in Israel.
Q: How similar is Hebrew to other languages you know? / Do you think knowing Arabic is
helping you grasp Hebrew quicker?
A: Grammar, syntax, and vocabulary is very similar; Hebrew is just like Arabic, but it’s
pronounced a little bit differently. Maybe I see Hebrew like this because in Arabic there are
already so many different dialects that are also pronounced differently and have very small
difference in their construction and phrases, so it’s already in my mind to need to accommodate
small changes.
10
Knowing English and other languages can help a lot too because since the 1940s, with the
creation of the state of Israel, the language has been enriched with a lot of European words.
Q: What is the most difficult part about learning Hebrew?
A: Honestly, there is nothing I would single out as especially difficult.
Q: Do you have any tricks that you use to help you remember new words?
A: I tried flashcards but I haven’t been sticking to them very much. Most of the time, when I learn
a word, it’s just learning; it just sticks. Unfortunately, you can spend a lot of time here and
people will mostly speak English to you.
Q: Do you learn most in personal study, class, or talking to people in Hebrew?
A: I was placed too low, so I am not learning much in class. I mostly learn through personal
study and also asking the teacher to tell me new stuff. Specifically here in Tel Aviv, I think,
because we’re in the summer ulpan, it’s hard to meet other Israeli students and “language
mingle.” In other parts of the year I bet it would be a lot more like a language exchange, like
those tandem kind of things they do, where you partner with a language buddy and learn each
other’s languages. We would probably learn a lot quicker like that.
Q: What is easiest for you, listening comprehension, reading comprehension, or

speaking? Why?
Writing is most difficult so far, because usually I use it and need it least. However, it’s nice
because I can compare the word to its Arabic equivalent and know if it’s spelled with a chaf/chet
or alaph/ayin. I need to read more probably though to get spelling down better.
END
This interview was very enlightening for me in a variety of ways. First, I was able to gain
a better idea of how similar Arabic and Hebrew are. I was not aware that one could gain insights
into even the spelling when learning the other language. Second, Abdel painted a distinct image
of the usefulness of knowing multiple other languages in the acquisition of Hebrew, not just
Semitic languages. Although I understood that Hebrew incorporated a variety of English words
into regular vocabulary, I suppose it did not fully occur to me that those without a background in
English would not find any familiary in these words. I imagine the word “‫ ”קורנפלקס‬would be just
as new to someone without an English/Romance background as the word “‫תוֹח‬ ַ ‫ִפ‬ְ ‫”ל‬.
11
Alexander Peterson
Reflection 3 — Learner’s Block
My third week in Israel has certainly been the most thought-provoking thus far.
Berdichevsky’s Modern Hebrew revealed just how influential Judaism and Hebrew were in the
founding of the United States, explained in crystalline detail the “language wars” between
Yiddish and Hebrew in the early 20th Century, and described the numerous challenges that
foreigners encounter when learning Hebrew. Each of these topics fascinated me in a wholly
disparate ways, but the section describing the challenges surrounding acquisition of Hebrew
were certainly the most personally impactful for me. I have always been troubled by the
seemingly extravagant amount of information one needs to ascertain “in context” of a written
text. The letters ‫ מדבר‬can mean at least three completely different things: “he talks,” “a desert,”
and “from a thing,” and ‫ ספר‬can mean “book,” “barber,” “he counted,” “border,” and sometimes
more. This problem is encountered in a multitude of contexts, forcing a new Hebrew-learner like
myself to slow down significantly while reading to ensure that the words I pronounce make
sense in context. Reading is also further complicated by the similar appearance of many of the
letters. As Berdichevsky notes, no less than 10 letters have a very similar structure, seven of
which are particularly tricky for myself: ‫ת ח ה ר ד ב כ‬.
Despite these difficulties, my writing skills have been improving this week, primarily
regarding more refined grammer. I am unsure whether it is actually more common in Hebrew to
say “in which” and “with whom” or if I am only hearing this “heightened” grammar in a university
setting, but the emphasis on correct sentence construction has actually made me more aware of
my grammar in English. As I texted my friend one evening, I remember rewriting my message to
avoid having prepositions at the end of my sentences. In another humorous example, during
one activity in class, I was writing the sentence “Whom do you want to make an impression
on?”. Realizing I would need the proposition “‫ ”על‬somewhere, but trying to avoid simply placing
it at the end, I ended up creating the word “‫ ”עלימי‬at the beginning. I was promptly corrected.
Through my study of Hebrew, I am already gaining intriguing insight on my own cognitive

learning methods, some of which may need to be amended in order to achieve a fluent grasp of
Hebrew. As many people do, I employ various mnemonic devices to remember words. To
remember the word for “road” (kvish), for example, I imagine a bug being “skvished” (squished)
on a busy street. Although these are often silly, for my entire life these techniques have enabled
a large amount of memorization. However, I have found out at this point that employing these
techniques for nearly every word is cluttering my mind with unnecessary associations and
greatly hinders my ability to fluidly listen to spoken Hebrew. One reason for this is that I have
inadvertently created an additional English barrier between myself and Hebrew. While creating
an image of a bug being squished on the road to remember a Hebrew word, I have reinforced
the association between the act of squishing and the English word “squish.” Essentially, I am
12
creating a web of English around many nouns and verbs in Hebrew, which ultimately distracts
me from immediately comprehending that which is told to me. I have actually found that
intentionally deciding not to translate Hebrew in my head has allowed me to follow a sentence
easier.
Through my adventures learning Hebrew this week, I also had the opportunity to
interview a native Hebrew speaker named Leah about her perspective on the language. Despite
her fluency, she did not live in Israel during most of her formal education, so she is currently in
ulpan to learn spelling and faster reading. Considering her fluency, questions like “what was the
hardest part about learning Hebrew” were not particularly suited for this interview, so I focused
on the significance of Hebrew in her life and her experiences in the ulpan. The following is a
rough transcript:
INTERVIEW #2 (Leah):
Q: How many languages did you learn either in the home or in your early education?
A: Well, my parents both speak Hebrew and French, and they wanted to make sure that me and
my brother learned both. When we lived in Israel, they would only speak French to us and we
would learn Hebrew at school, and vice versa when we lived in Switzerland. So very early I was
fluent in both. In elementary school I learned German and English.
Q: What is it like learning in an Ulpan where the teacher is introducing things that seem
so basic to you?
A: Sometimes it can be kind of boring, a little annoying. Speaking in Hebrew is easy, so what I
“learn” in class is primarily the formal foundation of what I have known implicitly for a long time.
To conjugate verbs, for example, I intuitively know how to say any conjugation, but spelling it is
a different story — knowing where to put the vav or yod mostly. It’s also difficult to know if the
sound is an aleph or an ayin; I don’t have the base from which to know how to spell things
immediately.
Q: What advice do you have for someone trying to learn Hebrew?
A: Always surround yourself with the language. TV, the street, radio, etc. You must live the
language.
Q: Considering you are fluent in so many languages, is there something particularly

special about Hebrew for you or is it more like simply another language that you speak
sometimes?
A: It’s very significant. Hebrew connects to my identity. Hebrew is not just the language of a
place; it’s the language of a people, religion, and history. I also think Hebrew letters are very
13
pretty. You were telling me earlier about a movement to change the Hebrew letters to be more
Latinized. I think something like this would make the language less Hebrew and it would lose
some of its significance. I understand the language can be hard for new immigrants, but it
doesn’t mean that the way the language is written needs to be changed.
END
During this interview, I was very intrigued to find yet another example of someone feeling a
strong connection between the Hebrew language and their own identity. For me, my only
personal feeling of connection to English is my fluency. If I lived in Germany and slowly lost my
ability to speak in English, the only loss for me would be loss of a communication method. To
those with connections to Hebrew, however, the story is consistently similar to the account of
Ilan Stavans — “Losing one’s Hebrew might be a synonym for losing one’s soul.” I am very
curious to know the circumstances under which other language in the world receive similar
treatment; perhaps there are consistent themes.
14
Alexander Peterson
Reflection 4 — Settling in and Conversations
This week has certainly been influential for me in a variety of ways. Near the beginning
of this week, I finally felt as if I had “settled” into my schedule, my living quarters, and my
reasons for coming to Israel in the first place. By this I mean that I have transitioned from the
mindset of “vacation” and into the general sense of “living” here. The time of day when I prepare
my meals has become more consistent, I do not feel the constant urge to “go do something”
when I have some free time, and I have built a solid network of people with whom I frequently
interact. Before coming here, I wanted to accomplish a few primary objectives apart from
classwork and research: experience Israeli culture among Israeli citizens, visit spiritually
significant locations in Israel, and hear from Israelis their opinions on US and Israeli politics. At
this point, I have fortunate enough to experience all of these in a variety of contexts. Last week,
I attended a small conference in which a high ranking member of the IDF explained his views on
the Israeli military, and a few days ago I had the opportunity to talk with a young woman
currently in the IDF (for mandatory service) about the same topic. Their perspectives could not
have been more different. This was a very important reminder to me that despite a variety of
unique challenges that Israel faces in this region, that collective experience does not mean that
Israelis generally agree on topics of defense, settlements in the West Bank, and other “hot”
issues. Obviously, just like in any group of people, perspectives are complicated and can vary
widely depending on class, gender, age, ethnicity, and other factors.
On the topic of Hebrew’s role in modern Israel, though, I was lucky enough to have a
meeting with Tel Aviv University’s Professor Lair Or to discuss my research and ask his own
opinions on Hebrew’s revival and modern importance. I was pleased to identify so many
overlaps between what Professor Or was explaining and what I had read in Berdichevsky’s
book. On the topic of the Revivalists’ efforts for Hebrew supremacy, Or emphasized the
systematic suppression of other languages and cultures. This was seen as necessary,
according to Or, because of the genuine threats that these other languages posed to Hebrew.
The modern revival of Yiddish and Ladino learning in academia is possible only because
Hebrew has already won. Essentially, Or explained that “it’s easy to be ‘multicultural’ when
[these languages] are no longer a threat.”
This point, however, seemed to be at odds with another recurring theme of the
conversation: the fact that many people in Israel believe Hebrew is still reviving. Many people
consider it very important to correct each grammatical error in Hebrew in order to preserve the
“correct version” of modern Hebrew. Even in my own experiences in the Ulpan, I have observed
numerous instances when the teacher explains the correct pronounciation or grammar “even
though nobody in Israel today says it this way.” While I understand that students should learn
15
proper grammar, I cannot think of a parallel example in English where we are taught to
pronounce a word differently than people speak in daily life. (Perhaps I am not thinking hard
enough). With so many influences of other languages into modern Hebrew, I understand the
difficulty in deciding whether changes should or should not be “tolerated.” These tensions of
course strike at the issue of whether modern Hebrew can be accurately called “Hebrew” or if
Zuckermann (author of “Israeli: a Beautiful Language” ) is correct to call it something entirely
different. Professor Or believes that this debate is not linguistic, but instead political. Through
language, many people in Israel have “a desire to find a continuity between ancient claims to
this land and modern Jews in Israel.”
I asked Professor Or his opinions on some efforts to alter the way Hebrew is written, for
example by latinizing the letters for easier reading. He noted that in many instances in history,
changing the writing system was an intentionally secularizing force. In Turkey, for example,
under the direction of Mustafa Kemal Atatürk, latinizing the Turkish language was part of a wide
campaign to transform Turkey into a modern, secular nation-state in the early 1900s. Though
changing the written letters had numerous purposes, one of these goals was to make ancient
religious Semitic texts less accessible to the average Turk; latinizing was a way to secularize. Or
believes that this is one of the primary reasons why Hebrew letters will never be changed. The
religious community and those who wish to preserve the ability to read religious texts among
Israeli society will see latinization as a way to make these less accessible.
Overall, my meeting with Professor Or was extremely enlightening and very relevant to
my research.
In regards to my acquisition of Hebrew, I have noticed a very distinct confirmation of

what I have been thinking for a few weeks now: I do not learn best in a fully-Hebrew ulpan
environment. I understand that part of point of teaching in Hebrew to challenge your brain to
pick out words and better develop listening comprehension, but this actually tends to frustrate
me when I do not understand everything being spoken. This frustration often turns to
discouragement and a significantly more difficult time remembering new words. This weekend, I
planned to meet up with an Israeli friend I had never met in person before to walk around Tel
Aviv and visit the beach. To prepare for the meeting, I spent a few hours learning relevant words
and practicing my listening comprehension on YouTube videos. I learned more in those two
hours than I have all this week in ulpan. I think the difference is my perceptions of usefulness of
particular words, my excitement for learning quickly, and ability to learn at my own pace.
If I were designing an ulpan course for people with similar learning styles as mine, I
would keep the aspect of reading numerous texts with word banks in the margin but remove
entirely the aspect of teaching grammar and introducing new words using only Hebrew. Instead,
I would move through these portions quickly in English (if the students all know that language,
which in my case they do) and insert portions of time to talk one-on-one with a partner about a
particular topic using page-long dictionaries of words on a single topic. For example, at a certain
time each day, you and a partner would be given a piece of paper with 20 words on it that are all
16
thematically related to one another (verbs, nouns, adjectives, etc). For the next 20 minutes, you
and this partner will talk in Hebrew about the perceived subject with the help of the dictionary.
The teacher will then walk around and supervise, trying to make sure that students are not
making recurring grammar mistakes. With the excitement of talking one-on-one with a peer and
the desire to communicate more and more easily over time, students would probably pick up
these words much quicker. Compare this scenario with 20 minutes of a professor explaining in
Hebrew the meaning of 20 new words in a row. In my opinion, the former option would be much
more comprehensive and long-lasting in terms of student growth.
17
Alexander Peterson
Reflection 5 — More New Experiences
This week, I have been attempting to experience aspects of life in Israel to which I had
not yet been exposed, including attending religious services and preparing traditional Israeli
food. In the middle of the week, I had the opportunity to join some other ulpan participants in an
outdoor Shakshuka-making event. I diced tomatoes, peppers, and garlic while the others
cooked eggs in the divine mixture. In fact, this was my first experience eating Shakshuka, and I
was not disappointed in the least. Aside from offering such heavenly tastes, however, the casual
event was also very productive in terms of practicing my Hebrew with other students. I was
pleased to realize that my listening and verbal skills in the language had improved dramatically
in the past few weeks, and I was encouraged upon receiving numerous compliments on the
fluidity of my Hebrew. The true test of my Hebrew, however, came when I attended a
synagogue in Ramat Aviv on Shabbat morning. Although the synagogue was listed on a website
as being “foreigner friendly,” the service was entirely in Hebrew, and only a few attendees could
speak English. This fact actually excited me quite a bit, and I attempted to follow the short
speeches from the prayer leader (was this a Rabbi? A cantor?). Understandably, he was
speaking quite fast, and I recognized probably 70% of the words, though this was not quite
enough to have a clear idea of what precisely he was discussing. I use the word “recognize”
very intentionally; although I knew that I had heard a particular word before, sometimes I had to
pause and remember its meaning. This situation encapsulates an aspect of my Hebrew learning
that has occurred to me primarily this week:
For much of my time here, whenever I have felt discouraged about my Hebrew level, I
would sit down and look up as many new Hebrew words from my regular English vocabulary as
possible, writing them all down on a piece of paper, and quizzing myself. However, the more I
listen to new material in Hebrew, the more I realize how much I have already been exposed to.
Essentially, I need to make sure that I review and master the conjugations and forms of words
that I already know. I generally already have the Hebrew words at my disposal to say most of
the sentences that I say in English, though clearly more basic in vocabulary, and yet when I am
speaking in Hebrew, I am still not “fluently fast” even when I am using words I learned months
ago. This point was again illustrated when I was listening to Hebrew music this morning. I really
enjoyed the sound of a particular song, so I wanted to translate it into English and understand
what it meant. Despite not comprehending a majority of it when I first listened to it, my project
translating it revealed that I already knew 90% of the words used. I simply needed to be more
familiar with the various conjugations and listen carefully for the subtle “chet” sound at the end
of certain musically drawn-out words. The type of listening experience that I need is likely only
attainable through more casual verbal conversation in Hebrew, so that will be priority of mine in
my final week here.
18
I have also been ruminating on the impact that my Hebrew studies have had on my
retention of Spanish. I studied Spanish for two and a half years in high school, but never came
close to being as good in Spanish as I was in Hebrew after three quarters in Hadar’s class. In
many cases, learning something like a language efficiently requires a genuine pull or feeling of
connection to the culture with which the language is associated. What is feel for Hebrew is a
deeply rooted drive to make Jewish culture a part of my life into the future, even after finishing
Jewish studies courses. For whatever reason, I never felt this way about Spanish. Perhaps that
can partially explain why much of my conscious memory of Spanish has been replaced with
Hebrew words. Last week, for the life of me, I could not remember the word for library in
Spanish, and my mind incessantly offered me “‫”ס ְפ ִריָה‬,
ִ even to the extent that I briefly
considered the possibility that the word was the same in both languages. I lamented this loss of
Spanish to one of my Spanish-speaking friends in ulpan this week, and he proceeded to spout a
few sentences in Spanish. To my absolute shock, I could understand exactly what he said.
While I cannot consciously construct most sentences in Spanish anymore, the language is still
somewhere in my mind, lying dormant. With some refresher courses, perhaps I could quickly
regain my Spanish skills alongside my Hebrew.
One final aspect of languages that I have been contemplating this week is prepositions.
Hadar told us during our first quarter that prepositions are often the most difficult for
Hebrew-learners to master, and I can see why: when Hebrew-learners are told that “‫ ”ב‬means
“in” and “‫ ”על‬means “about,” it doesn’t seem to make sense why someone would influence
(‫ )להשפיע‬about someone or care (‫ )לטפל‬in someone. Despite my frustration in keeping all these
prepositions straight, I fully acknowledge that prepositions in English are not any more intuitive.
Why do we get disappointed in someone? Why do we object to something? This is certainly
something that also comes from experience. However, I cannot help but wonder how the
Hebrew Revivalists confronted prepositions that presented particular struggles. Learning a new
word for “book” is one thing; changing the way one conceptualizes “in” is another. While I do not
know how similar or different these prepositional verbs are in Russian, Yiddish, and other
European languages from which the Revivalists came, I imagine sticking to the appropriate
Biblical prepositions was a struggle. Then again, virtually no aspect of this Revival could be
considered easy.
This week I also had the opportunity to conduct two interviews with classmates, one from
Germany and one from the United States, about their experiences in the ulpan this summer.
Since at this time, the ulpan is almost over, these interviewees had the opportunity to
thoughtfully reflect upon the sum of their experiences here, allowing them to provide some
uniquely insightful responses.
INTERVIEW #3 (Stephanie):
Q: Which languages have you grown up with or studied in school?

19
A: Well I grew up in Berlin, so I grew up with German, and I also learned English in school. I
distinctly remember learning English, and I actually see a few parallels between my experiences
with English and my experiences learning Hebrew here. I have also studied pieces of Arabic,
Turkish, Farsi, and the Ethiopic language in my later studies.
Q: What were your motivations for coming here to learn Hebrew?
A: I have quite a fascination with Semitic languages, first of all. It is very useful to know about
these languages when one wants to study religious texts and participate in Oriental studies. I
wanted to come to Israel because this is basically the only country in the Middle East with a
thriving academic community on Middle East studies — there are conferences here, many
books written about regional political, and other things like that.
Q: Would you say there is anything particularly difficult about Hebrew that you did not
experience with other languages?
A: Actually, quite the contrary. In most of my experience with other languages, like Arabic, I had
to constantly worry about the fact that there are numerous other accents and dialects that make
it difficult to feel like you are making much progress. Here, at least from where I have traveled, it
feels that the language is more or less uniform. I don’t know if this is totally true, but I also feel
like Hebrew has not had as much time as other languages to break off into lots of smaller
colloquial communities, so I do not need to worry about a language-learning curve in different
parts of Israel. I have found learning Hebrew to be easier than a lot of other languages I have
studied.
I would say overall that reading and writing is easiest for me while speaking is the hardest part
about this.
Q: What are some of the similarities that you felt between learning English and learning
Hebrew?
A: Well, this applies to basically all languages, but I remember that my struggles in English are
almost the same struggles that I have in Hebrew. Reading and writing is great, but it has been
hardest for me to start talking in it. I always want to say things that are more complicated than I
know how to say, so I freeze up. It’s important for me to practice the verbal part as much as
possible.
Q: Are there any techniques that you use to learn Hebrew?
A: I am a very visual learner, so I need to see the words written out before I can commit them,
but I also really need to feel the sound of the word in my mouth before I can really use it. It helps
to feel the vibration of the word in your body, and so I need the teachers to pronounce new
20
words many times. I think it would be nice if we read aloud our texts more than once so that we
can practice hearing the correct pronunciation.
Another technique I use is finding words that are similar to the one I am learning so that they do
not confuse me later. So if there is a word that sounds very similar to “dessert”, for example, I
want to learn a few more words that sound very similar. Baby and dessert in Hebrew sound very
similar. I also like to listen to songs in Hebrew, basically anything that I like the sound.
Q: Do you intend to continue learning Hebrew after Ulpan? If so, how?
A: Yes, I definitely want to continue learning Hebrew; I am actually hoping to come back again
next year to do another ulpan. Until then, I think I will set aside time, like an hour, every Monday
to devote to Hebrew. So Hebrew on monday morning, Arabic tuesday, and so on. I also have
found a language partner in Germany already so I will talk to her a lot.
Q: Do you have any other comments about what you liked and didn’t like about the
ulpan?
A: Well I was actually surprised how good this ulpan was. I went to a smaller ulpan a while ago
in Haifa, and this one in Tel Aviv was much nicer. I really like how the texts are about really
interesting topics, not just about the creation of Israel like I have heard so many times already. I
think we are lucky with our teachers too because they create an environment where we don’t
feel bad about our mistakes.
But like I said earlier, I think it could have also been better if we spent more time reading
through the texts, and having the teacher pronounce the words out loud at least once.
END
INTERVIEW #4 (Katie):
Q: Do you know or have studied any other language other than English before coming to
Ulpan?
A: In high school I studied French for a few years, so I am alright in that. I am obviously mostly
fluent in English though.
Q: What were you motivations for learning Hebrew?
A: To start, I’m Jewish, so it feels very special to me to learn this language. I’ve grown up
hearing all the prayers and what they mean, but not knowing word-for-word how it translates.
My family does all the Jewish holidays, so we have chanted the prayers a lot. I’m also going to
21
be here [at TAU] for the semester to study, so I need to learn Hebrew. I am hoping to study
Middle East politics so knowing Hebrew will also help with that.
Q: What would you say has been the most difficult part of learning Hebrew?
A: When I came here, I was basically a beginner, but I already knew the printed Hebrew letters.
The hardest part for me so far was learning the script letters. Fortunately, I didn’t need to
translate the script letters into sounds, I just had to match them to the print letters I already
knew. So reading and writing in script has been tricky for me.
Q: What has been the easiest part? Or something easier than you expected?
A: Before coming here, I had no idea that almost all the words have a root. So a lot of times
even if I have never seen a word, I can guess the definition based on the root and that helps a
lot. It doesn’t always work, but it does sometimes.
Listening to the language is fairly easy for me. I have been hearing the sound of Hebrew for a
lot of my life. Speaking is a lot harder.
Q: Do you have any tricks you use to learn Hebrew?
A: When I first hear a new word, I usually like to think of some concept that it sounds like. I can’t
really think of an example right now, but if a new word sounds like something in English, I make
a little image or story in my head about it. For me, I learn really well in a classroom environment,
so most of my learning has been in class. That’s what I like about this ulpan.
Q: How do you intend to continue in your Hebrew studies?
A: Well I will be forced to keep speaking in Hebrew throughout the semester here at TAU, and I
hope to soon be good enough for a fairly intelligent conversation! After the semester, I am
actually going to Jordan to learn Arabic and I’ll see which language I want to keep more after
that. I might take Arabic or Hebrew classes in the United States.
Q: Do you have any other comments about your experiences here?
A: I was really surprised how fast this ulpan was. The more I learn Hebrew, the more I realize
how little I know. It’s becoming more and more clear to me that I have a very long way to go
before being fluent.
END.
22
Both of these interviews were very informative in different ways. In Stephanie’s interview,
I was intrigued to learn about her emphasis on “feeling the sound of the word in your mouth”
before being able to commit it to memory. While I study in my room before a test, sometimes I
only whisper the new word to myself when I am reviewing, but perhaps there is something
helpful about pronouncing the word fully out loud as if I was saying to another person. In Katie’s
interview, I was struck by how similar our experiences were when first learning Hebrew. Katie
described being particularly enamoured by the concept of shoreshim, which was also a great
realization for myself. In addition, our methods of committing new words to memory was almost
identical. In fact, I discussed this method (thinking of a similar English word and making a
mental picture) in one of my earlier reflections. My conclusion, however, was that over time my
mind was so cluttered with English associations and images that it stunted by growth in Hebrew.
I explained my experience to Katie; I am curious to know if anyone else would have the same
experience as me in this way.
23
Alexander Peterson
Reflection 6 — Final Week in Israel
With mixed emotions, I now have the opportunity to reflect upon not only my final week
in Ulpan but also on my experiences in Israel as a whole. In this sixth week, I carefully planned
my daily schedule to ensure that I would leave Israel without major regrets with regard to travel.
I made time to soak in the Israeli sun on the beach in Tel Aviv once more, visit the Shuk
HaCarmel again to buy souvenirs for friends and family, and took a trip to Jerusalem to visit Yad
VaShem and attend a concert. As a testament to how much I have improved in my Hebrew, my
conversations with the band members after the concert in Jerusalem was held entirely in
Hebrew, and I felt that I was able to articulate everything on my mind. This conversation was
also very special for another reason: this group was the first Israeli band that I began listening to
when learning Hebrew over a year ago. Having the chance to now meet this group and interact
in Hebrew was very poetic.
While visiting the Holocaust Museum that same day, I was able to utilize my
understanding of Hebrew to actually gain a deeper understanding of some of the first-hand
testimonies of some of the survivors. I remember sitting in a dark room with quotes fading in and
out of focus, both in Hebrew and translated into English. One quote in English read something
to the effect of “We returned to our lives, but we never truly came back” while the original
Hebrew seemed to say something more similar to “We returned to the cycle of our lives, but
never returned to ourselves.” Through many similar experiences in this museum, I felt a deeper
emotional connection to the victims, affording me a greater awareness of the long-term
emotional, psychological, and physical scars that continued long after the concentration camps
ended. Essentially, I believe it was important for me to visit this museum particularly near the
end of my stay in Israel.
Reflecting on my growth in Hebrew as a whole, I was surprised just how much of this
learning was accomplished outside the classroom. As stated in previous reflections, I continue
to believe that conversations with friends in Hebrew constituted the majority of my learning in
terms of vocabulary. Having the clear understanding of a word’s usefulness by virtue of its use
in a real conversation seemed to promote my ability to remember these words and use them
again in the same conversation. However, what I believe was very important for me to learn in a
classroom setting was the proper use of “connection words,” such as “‫“מ ְפּנֵי‬ִ ,”‫”למרות זאת‬, and “
‫”ואילו‬. These words, despite their usefulness especially in writing, rarely seemed to surface in
conversations with people. Words like this, those which are important to understanding the
language but are not as common in colloquial use, are also most difficult for me to remember,
so dedicating a full lesson in class to them aided in my acquisition of these phrases significantly.
24
Despite being able to write full letters to people in Hebrew and understanding a large
amount of the spoken Hebrew in movies, I have noticed that I still need to look up many words
from Hebrew Facebook posts (from Hebrew-speaking friends and Israeli Facebook groups.)
This seems to indicate to me that there is still a large amount of colloquial Hebrew that I have
yet to be exposed to, the type of learning best accomplished through casual conversations. As I
prepare for another quarter at the University of Washington, I am planning exactly how I will
maintain and progress my Hebrew skills; I hope to watch more movies in Hebrew, listen to
Hebrew music, and find a language partner at UW with whom I can regularly speak Hebrew.
When I have the opportunity in my class schedule, I also hope to take higher level Jewish
Studies courses that utilize a working knowledge of the Hebrew language. Throughout this
research project on the historical revival and modern role of Hebrew, I have noticed myself
being most intrigued by the modern politics of Hebrew in Israel. Whether this exists as tension
between the government and academia over the use of English in the universities or the
seemingly shifting perspectives from Israel’s Arab populations on Hebrew, I am fascinated by
notion that Hebrew remains in such a state of modification, re-establishment, and flux.
This last week, I had the opportunity to conduct two final interviews of classmates on
their experiences learning Hebrew here in Israel. Johanna had no prior experience with Hebrew
while Felix was essentially equal to my placement level. My interview with Felix was conducted
entirely in Hebrew.
INTERVIEW #5 (Johanna):
Q: What languages do you currently know?
A: Primarily German, since I grew up and live in Germany. And I also learned English in school.
A: Language is a window into society and history, so learning Hebrew can make me no longer a
stranger to Jewish culture. German and Jewish history have actually been strongly connected,
some in great ways and some in awful ways, and for me, learning Hebrew is one way we can
ensure “never again.” I am also planning to stay [at TAU] for the semester, so Hebrew will be
important for my studies.
Q: What did you find particularly easy or difficult about Hebrew?
A: Well I started at the very beginning, so in these past few weeks I’ve been learning the
aleph-bet, how to introduce ourselves, and basic things like that. It’s actually such a great
feeling that I can read now! I am learning quickly. Getting around on the busses is easier, and I
can now ask where stuff is, so I’m really happy with what I’ve learned.
25
Q: Do you have any special methods you use to study and remember words?
A: For me, I have to write everything down and associate some sort of image to the word.
These images help me to remember the meaning and also how to spell and say the word.
That’s mostly it, writing things down on a piece of paper and memorizing it.
Q: Does you background in other languages help you learn Hebrew?
A: Well German is similar to Yiddish, so that helps me a little bit. I think the grammar in Hebrew
is much easier than in German as well.
Q: Do you intend to continue in your Hebrew studies? If so, How?
A: I’m hoping to enroll in another Hebrew ulpan here, or at least attend a Hebrew class once or
twice a week so that I don’t lose any of my Hebrew.
Q: Is there anything else you want to comment on about your experiences in Ulpan?
A: I quite liked that the two teachers who taught our class were so different. One was calm and
even-toned and the other forced us to talk constantly. I think I was disappointed that in this
international program, it was easy to stay in an international bubble and speak in only English or
German with people. It would be cooler to have more contact with Israelis where we need to
practice in the context of a relationship with someone. I would really like the opportunity to talk
more.
INTERVIEW #6 (Felix):
Q: What languages do you currently know?
A: I grew up with English and German. I studied French in school and also know a little
Spanish.
A: I am Jewish, and I have been hearing Hebrew in synagogue for my whole life. We would
recite the prayers too, and I always thought it would be nice to understand what I am saying. I
was also motivated to learn something completely different from English, something with a
completely different structure. I am also hoping to live in Israel one day, but I’m not sure when
exactly. For now, I will be staying for the semester, so I will need to learn the language to enjoy
life here more.
Q: What did you find particularly easy or difficult about Hebrew?
26
A: For me, since I deal a lot with music, I like that Hebrew is such a phonetic language. Lots of
words sound so foreign to me, and the sounds of very distinctive in the ear. This makes it
somewhat easier to remember, but it’s also hard because a lot of words sound like other words
in Hebrew. And in writing, the conjugations of the words might look completely different than the
infinitive, so it can be hard to follow. However, that said, it is not very hard to learn since there
are only three tenses.
Q: Do you have any special methods you use to study and remember words?
A: I usually just use flashcards. I have committed to learning 100 new words per week, so I put
them on flashcards and quiz myself all the time.
Q: Does you background in other languages help you learn Hebrew?
A: Eh, so so. My background in romance languages really doesn’t help me with Hebrew.
Language is all about connecting with friends and family, and all languages help to teach new
methods of viewing the world, so the experience of diving into a new mindset/language is a
similar experience, if that makes sense.
Q: Do you intend to continue in your Hebrew studies? If so, How?
A: I’ll be here [at TAU] for the semester, so I will keep learning by talking to Israelis and
explaining all my experiences to my mother in Hebrew. I will also be taking classes here in
Hebrew, so I will hopefully get a lot better. When I get back to the US, I also hope to get a
roommate who I can talk Hebrew with.
Q: Is there anything else you want to comment on about your experiences in Ulpan?
A: I have really enjoyed translating my Hebrew learning into music. It’s possible to build little
songs with new words I learn, and I even wrote a song about a football player in Hebrew
already. In the class structure, though, I was disappointed that we did so much writing. I wish we
would have done my verbal communication so that we could practice actually talking with
people here.
END.
These interviews further confirm a common theme among the many of the people learning
Hebrew here in Israel: they had been exposed to Hebrew earlier in life, usually in a religious
context, and they have a deep desire to better understand this part of their lives. In the interview
with Felix, I was particularly fascinated with his approach to learning through music. As a
musician myself, I have also wanted to connect my love of music to learning Hebrew in order to
memorize words more efficiently and enjoyably.
27

Part 2:
Reading Summaries
28
Honors Ad Hoc Reading Reflection
6 August 2018
Ilan Stavans’ Resurrecting Hebrew
What began as an unassuming exploration to discern the significance of an arcane dream
developed into a healthy obsession for Ilan Stavans, seeking to understanding the historical
circumstances, prerequisites, and primary protagonists of the revival of the Hebrew language in
the 19th and 20th Centuries. Stavans, feeling a seemingly inexplicable guilt whenever confronted
with his refrigerated Hebrew, seeks not only to elucidate for the reader an understanding of the
obstacles and visionaries in Hebrew’s plight for resurrection but also to discover first-hand the
legacy of the Revivalists’ efforts in modern Israel.
A recurring theme in Stavans’ exploration is the notion of a common language being
fundamental to the growth of a state, specifically Hebrew to the dream of a state of Israel.
Hebrew, Stavans argues, is not merely a collection of sounds with historic significance but rather
exists as a state of mind, serving as the “ethnic, religious, and transnational vehicle of
communication used by Jews worldwide” (Stavans, 2008, ‫ו‬, para. 20). Throughout his book,
Stavans offers a study into the life and legacy of Eliezer Ben-Yehuda, a Lithuanian-born
lexicographer and Zionist, who believed that Jews ought to abandon their native tongue and
speak only Hebrew even in their homes. Although Ben-Yehuda was a secular Revivalist, he
ascribed deeply to the Jewish concept of redemption. To Ben-Yehuda, both “returning” to Israel
and speaking Hebrew were necessary for the redemption of the global Jewish Diaspora. In effect,
29
to Ben-Yehuda and other lingual Zionists, as Stavans summarizes, “Exile and polyglotism are
synonymous” (Stavans, 2008, ‫י‬, para. 23).
In Stavans’ analysis, the reader gains important insight into the practical inner-workings
of this grand language project, revealing the often cumbersome and near absurd lengths that
parents and teachers would take in order to maintain the Holy Tongue. During the mid-late
1800s, when the Hebrew Revivalist project was underway in Jewish schools within Palestine,
one contemporary of Ben-Yehuda recalls that without hundreds of critical verbs and nouns in
Hebrew at the time, “we were half-mute, stuttering, we spoke with our hands and eyes” (Stavans,
2008, ‫ה‬, para. 14). In the household, parents would perform a necessary mixture of Hebrew and
what Stavans calls, “verbal improvisation” in order to expose their children to the new tongue
(Stavans, 2008, ‫ה‬, para. 7). Despite the difficulty, these individuals felt a deep-seated obligation
to advance the cause of Hebrew; she would be the language of the future, a unifier amidst a
cornucopia of cultural backgrounds, the language of a new Jewish homeland where Jewry would
no longer be a footnote (Stroum Center for Jewish Studies, 2014).
The Revivalist effort, however, was not without its ardent detractors and active
adversaries. Many Orthodox Jewish communities, some residing in Palestine for centuries, spoke
out against Ben-Yehuda’s vision, lambasting him for “daring to use the holy tongue for everyday
matters” (Stavans, 2008, ‫ה‬, para. 15). For these people, Ben-Yehuda’s lengthy dictionaries
introducing new Hebrew words to accommodate contemporary society were not a momentus
bridge from ancestral Hebrew to the modern Jew but rather an irreverent contaminant.
Intriguingly, Stavans begs the question of whether these concerns of the soulless
pedestrianization of Hebrew were indeed legitimate. He describes accounts of asking everyday

30
Israelis whether they have heard of Eliezer Ben-Yehuda and his work, and with perplexing
recurrence, Ben-Yehuda seems to have been erased from the collective national memory. There
are no monuments or museums dedicated to his memory, only the occasional street name. Even
modern Hebrew itself, constantly evolving up to this day, bears significant signs of
multilingualism that challenge the notion of whether a recognizable Hebrew of the ancient
Jewish people had indeed been revived. Pieces of numerous languages, Anglicisms, and even
English grammar have become juxtaposed with the Hebrew spoken in most of Israel.
Considering these questions, one inevitably reaches the inquiry, as Ilan Stavans does, of
whether Ben-Yehuda would be proud of the current state of modern Hebrew. As Professor
Leonard Spolsky poignantly observes regarding the multilingualism of modern Israel in his
conversation with Stavans, “[T]he Tower of Babel is a cautionary tale. Monolingualism has
never been a feature in Jewish life” (Stavans, 2008, ‫ט‬, para. 20). Essentially, despite the desire
among Ben-Yehuda and his contemporaries for lingual purity, there exists something distinctly
Jewish in the rapid metamorphosis and incorporative spirit of modern Hebrew. Ben-Yehuda
dreamt of a sovereign state in which Jews would be unified and regrafted to their collective
Jewish identity through a common language of Hebrew, and whether the aleph-bet contains a
mystical window into the expanse of the universe or is simply “useful, neutral, [and] alive,” this
dream has certainly been realized (Stavans, 2008, ‫ס‬, para. 29).
31
References
ew York, New York: Schocken Books.

Stavans, Ilan. (2008) Resurrecting Hebrew. N
Stroum Center for Jewish Studies at the University of Washington. [StroumJewishStudies].

(2014, February 3). The Hebrew Language - Ilan Stavans & Hadar Khazzam-Horowitz.
Retrieved from https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=J94QjGnCw2M
While visiting Jerusalem, I took this picture of Ben-Yehuda Street, a recurring topic in Stavans’
book.
32
17 August 2018
Berdichevsky's Modern Hebrew and Harshav’s Language in Time of Revolution

Selections
As Benjamin Harshav provocatively asserts, “The revival of Hebrew as a living language
after two thousand years was no miracle” (Harshav, 2009, "Flowers Have No Names”). Through
a careful analysis of the precursors and patient efforts of Hebrew’s Revivalists, one begins to
understand precisely what Harshav means by this statement. The revival of an ancient tongue for
which thousands of new words had to be created required the patient dedication of more than
simply the Revival’s icon, Eliezer Ben Yehuda.
From 1880 to 1940, a variety of efforts to preserve and reignite the language of the
Jewish people, taking place both in Palestine and in Europe, characterized the growing trend
toward lingual unification between Jews of a plethora of cultural backgrounds. As Norman
Berdichevsky explains, by the time Ben Yehuda arrived in Palestine in 1881, two Hebrew
newspapers were already operating within the Jewish populations settling there. These
publications primarily drew from a limited vocabulary from the Bible and also “international
words” from European countries (Berdichevsky, 2014, p. 49). Through these newspapers and
later his own, Ben Yehuda saw an opportunity to expedite the process of integrating new words
into the modern Hebrew language. As a supporter of Ben Yehuda and the revival of Hebrew,
newspaper founder Dov Frumkin was happy to include newly coined words without footnotes
into his publications, hoping that the public would understand the words’ meaning through
context and adopt them into their vocabulary. Furthermore, the population could learn proper
33
pronunciation of Hebrew words through various political radio programs operating in Palestine
(Berdichevsky, 2014, p. 80).
In Europe, South Africa, and Latin America, Jewish communities began to establish
what was known as the Tarbut (culture) system in the early 20th Century, a secular Zionist
education system that not only taught students in Hebrew and Yiddish but also encouraged them
to make Aliyah in Palestine later in life. By 1939 in Lithuania, Poland, and Romania, the Tarbut
movement boasted roughly 45,000 students in 270 schools (Berdichevsky, 2014, 95-96).
Through these schools, large portions of the Jewish Diaspora could already begin to feel
connected to a greater sense of ethnic unity, lingual integration, and inner connection to the
Palestinian region before arriving. Thousands of Jews, however, had already begun living in the
region by this time, showcased by the founding of Tel Aviv in 1909 with the expectation that all
government, commercial, and personal interactions would take place in the Holy Tongue
(Harshav, 2009, "Flowers Have No Names”).
Even with schools and cities already established at the turn of the 20th Century, however,
the modern language of Hebrew was “one sided” and was lacking in crucial vocabulary outside
of “a limited range of religious topics” (Harshav, 2009, "Flowers Have No Names”). As
American Yiddish poet and lexicographer Solomon Blumgarten describes in a well-known story,
upon his visit to a settlement in Palestine in 1913, he asked a young woman the names of various
flowers in a modest flower bed. Her response — “Flowers have no names” — exemplified the
continued need for Hebrew to more fully cover a more diverse range of domains, from nature
and science to politics and commerce (Harshav, 2009).

34
Despite the important growth of what Benjamin Harshav describes as a “base society” of
Hebrew speakers in Palestine, the development of the modern Hebrew tongue could hardly be
described as a steady, uninhibited development (Berdichevsky, 2014, p. 82). Bitter language
wars between Hebrew and Yiddish dominated the discourse between numerous Zionist leaders
during this period. Not only did Yiddish bear a tight association with the Jewish experience in
Europe for hundreds of years, they argued, but more compellingly, it was alive. In fact, a large
portion of Zionist propaganda that had been disseminated throughout Europe was printed in
Yiddish. As Berdichevsky describes, “Hebrew’s growth was greatly aided by the circumstances
of the increasingly difficult situation of the Jewish minorities in . . . Europe,” particularly the
Holocaust, which “dealt [Yiddish] a death blow as a spoken language.” (Berdichevsky, 2014, p.
77). Ultimately, after Israel achieved independence in 1948, the mass immigration of Jews from
North Africa and the Middle East made Hebrew the obvious unifying language of the Jewish
state. Hebrew provided a vital sense of shared history and destiny across the various cultural
backgrounds of the Diaspora. Furthermore, the Hebrew language itself, by virtue of its use,
serves today as an important claim to the legitimacy of a Jewish nation in the region. As Halkin
sharply identifies, “Any alternative to Hebrew would have meant the loss of Zionism’s historical
content, the political consequences of which would have been to degrade the movement into a
mere colonizing enterprize its enemies always viewed it as being and so doom it in advance”
(Berdichevsky, 2014, p. 86).

35
References
Harshav, B. (2009). "Flowers Have No Names: The revival of Hebrew as a living

language after two thousand years was no miracle", Natural History, 118 (#1 February):
24–29
Berdichevsky, N. (2014). Modern Hebrew: The Past and Future of a Revitalized Language.
McFarland & Company, Inc., Publishers. North Carolina.
36
30 August 2018
Berdichevsky’s Modern Hebrew: Part 2
In his comprehensive study into the revival of the modern Hebrew language,
Berdichevsky offers the reader a valuable perspective on the scale and variety of contexts in
which Hebrew’s advocates operated for decades before the Holy Tongue could thrive as an
everyday language. Within Europe in particular, the Tarbut (culture) educational system sought
to provide young Jewish students an environment where Hebrew was as the primary language of
instruction, in essence serving as preparation for a future Hebrew-dominated culture in Israel.
The growth of a Hebrew culture was particularly evident in Lithuania, which Berdichevsky
deems a “staging ground for a Jewish state” (Berdichevsky, 2014, p. 107). In 1920, the
Lithuanian Jewish community was given the right to enjoy a high degree of political autonomy,
even to the extent of legislating their own binding ordinances. Strikingly, the primary language
in use at the main Jewish high school there was Hebrew, and by the 1930s, the Hebrew Real
Gymnasium in Lithuania’s interwar capital of Kaunas was considered to be “equal of the best
Hebrew language high schools in Palestine” (Berdichevsky, 2014, p. 107).
Across the globe in the United States, the Hebraist movement was also gaining modest
traction among American Jews, enough to support several Hebrew newspapers and periodicals
(Berdichevsky, 2014, p. 104). One of this movement’s most notable proponents, Daniel Persky
(1887-1962), published numerous textbooks intended to teach basic conversational Hebrew to
empower those considering relocating to Eretz-Israel. In the foreword of Ha-Medabber Ivrit

37
(1921), Persky notes, “The publishers have had specially in the mind the needs of persons
intending to settle in Palestine, or to go there as tourists” (Persky, p. 8).
In the current age, despite a century of development in both sophisticated and casual
settings, the turbulent growth of Hebrew continues to evince itself in the modern state of Israel.
In particular, “The issue of language and its relationship to national identity presents several
ironies and remains a dilemma for the state of Israel and its Arab citizens and resident non-Jews”
(Berdichevsky, 2014, p. 136). According to a recent study, roughly 60% of Israeli Arabs are
fluent in Hebrew, compared with 90% of the Jewish population (Berdichevsky, 2014, p. 135). As
Berdichevsky explains, anti-Israel attitudes are common among Israel’s Arab population, a result
of perceptions of colonial illegitimacy, intense pressure from surrounding regimes to resist
“expansionist Zionism,” and other factors. These attitudes impact the willingness to acquire
Hebrew, a language which not only can be viewed as a symbol of the Jewish community but also
“[encourages] acculturation to values and norms traditionally ignored or despised in the
Arab-Muslim culture” (Berdichevsky, 2014, p. 139).
Furthermore, the expansion of Hebrew is stunted by a growing cultural norm to utilize
other languages in academia, particularly English. In 2013, the leadership of the Hebrew
University of Jerusalem, a distinct pioneer in Hebrew language education upon its establishment
in 1925, elicited outcry from many Israelis over its decision to permit dissertations in English.
Commonly cited reasons for this transition include “the new global economy has increased
pressure to become literate in English” and “if you write your thesis in Hebrew, it is buried [in an
international context]” (Berdichevsky, 2014, p. 180). There is even fear among many Israelis that
Hebrew is becoming a “low-caste” language for use only in the home and workplace while
38
English is emerging as a symbol of the “high-caste” in most professional environments
(Berdichevsky, 2014, p. 182). Ironically, such pressures seem to fuel and somewhat validate the
indignation of some ultra-Orthodox communities that continue to resist the use of modern
Hebrew for fear that the Holy Tongue would become mundane.
Despite modest barriers to the uninhibited expansion of the language, Berdichevsky
argues that Hebrew is perhaps the single most important means through which peace can be
achieved among Jewish Israelis, Arab communities, ultra-Orthodox communities, and even
surrounding Arab countries. He explains, “It is largely language, the common medium of
discourse, that transforms legal abstractions such as citizenship into a living flesh-and-blood
community” (Berdichevsky, 2014, p. 137). There seems to be a growing recognition of this point
even in areas traditionally hostile to the state of Israel. Numerous private schools in the West
Bank are beginning to offer Hebrew to students in grades 7-10, citing the practical utility of the
language and also the desire to “know what is going on in Israel first hand, not what others are
saying about Israel” (Berdichevsky, 2014, p. 140). Similarly, in Egypt, thousands of students
each year from Al-Azhar Islamic University opt to take Hebrew language courses in order to
understand Israeli culture and history “from a different angle altogether” (Berdichevsky, 2014, p.
140). In times of uncertainty and conflict, Israelis must take pride in and further mobilize their
language with a proven capacity to unite across ethnic and cultural lines.
39
References
Berdichevsky, N. (2014). Modern Hebrew: The Past and Future of a Revitalized Language.
Jefferson, North Carolina: McFarland & Company, Inc., Publishers.
Persky, D. (1921). Ha-Medabber Ivrit: A Manual of Hebrew Conversations. New York, New
York: Zionist Organization of America. Retrieved from https://babel.hathitrust.org/cgi/
pt?id=hvd.hwmkhx;view=1up;seq=9
40
Final Reflections — Ulpan, Interviews, and Readings
In summary, my six weeks in Israel were inspiring, transformative, and engaging. Being
able to walk the streets of Jerusalem, haggle in Hebrew within the clamoring Tel Aviv
marketplaces, and admire the expansive sea landscape of the Mediterranean was a deeply
powerful experience on many levels. As a Christian, I felt a continual sense of appreciation for
the land around me and harbored a solemn respect for the religious history of the region. As a
student of Hebrew, I basked in the challenge of a 24/7 classroom and cherished the friends that
were willing to be patient with my sprouting language skills. And as a lover of art, I relished in
the utter beauty of the sunset, the rolling hills of Jerusalem, the starry sky on a temperate
August night, and the mighty penetrating blast of the shofar on Rosh HaShanah. Every moment
I spent immersed in Israeli culture only prodded my desire to draw closer to it, and I am inspired
to invest more of my time this year experiencing this culture in the ways that I can.
My experiences in my ulpan class were varied. As described in earlier reflections, my

experiences at TAU helped to reveal to me what types of teaching methods are less effective for
me and also gave me numerous ideas for how I would organize a Hebrew class myself. My
learning was real, and I certainly credit a large portion of my growth to in-class work, but outside
engagement with the culture and language was where I truly felt I was growing as a user of the
language. One idea I would love to try in a Hebrew class is more engagement in conversations
with other students in Hebrew, not about an assignment or a particular text, but using target new
words while telling personal stories and getting to know one another better. Many of my
experiences have taught me that learning in the context of a relationship tends to me much
more effective, and language is by nature a method of connecting with people and culture, so
this aspect of learning should be magnified.
During my interviews with classmates, I was intrigued to hear a variety of unique reasons
for learning Hebrew. For many, it was all about connecting to their own Jewish culture, and for
some, Hebrew would be necessary for their academic career in Israel. In every case, they
viewed Hebrew as a means to better understanding and connecting with a group of people
and/or culture. Most of all, I was intrigued to hear about the various answers to the question,
“what about learning Hebrew was particularly difficult or easy for you?”. In fact, none of the
respondents seemed to indicate that Hebrew posed a unique challenge. While different students
starting at beginner levels understandably struggled with learning the non-Latin alphabet, I was
surprised to hear none of them said that the pronunciation was especially difficult, the grammar
was tricky, or that the many conjugation patterns were hard to remember. In fact, there seemed
to be a theme that Hebrew was actually easier than many had expected, some saying the
grammar was easier than their native language and others saying that the root structure made
learning almost intuitive. Even with a reasonably wide range of native language backgrounds,
there did not appear to be a common theme of what was easier or more difficult for people in
acquiring Hebrew. While the sample size was indeed small, perhaps the experience of an
individual in learning a language has more to do with personal learning styles, talents, and
foreign exposure than the language they grew up with. That said, the two with experience in
41
Semitic languages did note that Hebrew in general seemed to come more naturally to them.
Obviously, answering this question confidently would require a more sophisticated research
method.
Regarding the readings throughout this summer, I feel that my understanding of

Hebrew’s revival and its role in modern Israel has been bolstered ten fold. In all three books, a
common message arose that Hebrew’s revival was an eclectic and multifaceted effort, not
simply the the result of Eliezer Ben-Yehuda’s steady advocacy and creation of words. A unique
intersection of renewed interest in Hebrew literature in Europe starting in the 19th Century,
circumstantial and ideological impulses to further develop a Jewish community in Palestine with
a common language, educational movements among Jewish schools in both Europe and Latin
America to forge a more ubiquitous sense of Jewish heritage, the dedication of parents and
educators in Palestine to communicate in a language with hundreds of “missing words,” and
numerous other efforts collectively helped to drive Hebrew into a modern tongue spoken by
millions of people today. Although Hebrew can be seen as a unifying force for the Jewish people
today, a sense of shared heritage, community, and destiny were seemingly already necessary
for all of these factors in Hebrew’s revival to have ever endured. Aside from a unique confluence
of conditions and cultural movements that helped to support Hebrew as a spoken language, as
Harshav explains, a “strong, emotionally charged ideology” was indispensable as the enduring
glue to these efforts.
Especially, In Ilan Stavans’ Resurrecting Hebrew, I gained a glimpse into the numerous
identities that Hebrew beckons to the surface. While Stavans emphasizes the restorative, if not
redemptive, qualities of Hebrew for the Jewish people, calling Hebrew the “indisputable conduit,
the radar of Jewish identity”, he does not fail to mention the numerous conflicts of identity that
Hebrew’s revival produced. For speakers of Yiddish, for example, an internal tension would
arise as to which of these two languages held more significance to the Jewish experience. As
both Stavans and Harshav describe, when Yiddish was systematically suppressed in the
growing nation of Israel, Yiddish speakers would have to face the the paradoxical reality that the
language setting their communities apart for centuries was being stifled by fellow Jews hoping
to unify the Jewish people in their homeland. Hebrew, however, could also seemingly create
identities where none existed before, illustrated by Stavans’ discussion of Christian theologians
in early American history who considered Hebrew to be a fundamental connection to a more
complete relationship with God and Christ. These academics were so determined to understand
Hebrew and glean wisdom from the original texts that Stavans’ uses the term “non-Jewish Jew.”
This phrase has stuck with me ever since I first read it. I have a deeply-rooted drive to learn
Hebrew, meaningfully participate in Jewish culture, and better understand my religious roots
through Biblical study in the original texts; am I a non-Jewish Jew? Very often as I sat in my
ulpan classes, I would think about the sheer importance of being in Israel, learning the language
of the scriptures and modern Jewish people, and personally taking part in one of the most
remarkable stories of resurrection in human history. Hebrew for me is far beyond a simple
academic pursuit or the means to an end. In fact, I feel that Stavans’ description of Hebrew as a
“state of mind” best encompasses my relationship to it.

Ad Hoc Israel Final Portfolio

Transféré par

Informations du document

Titre original

Copyright

Formats disponibles

Partager ce document

Partager ou intégrer le document

Options de partage

Avez-vous trouvé ce document utile ?

Ce contenu est-il inapproprié ?

Droits d'auteur :

Formats disponibles

Ad Hoc Israel Final Portfolio

Transféré par

Droits d'auteur :

Formats disponibles

Study Abroad Program

Reflections and Interview Notes

Reflection 1 — The First Week of Immersion

I couldn’t make out a single word of his response.

Without providing an exhaustive summary of each encounter and activity of my week, I

Regarding classes, I am being challenged to “sink or swim.” On my first day, I

Reflection 2 — Travels and a Growing Need for Language

As I reflect upon my second week in Israel, my mind is predominantly filled with

Q: Can you remind me which languages you can speak?

Q: What are your motivations for learning Hebrew?

Q: What is the most difficult part about learning Hebrew?

A: Honestly, there is nothing I would single out as especially difficult.

Q: Do you learn most in personal study, class, or talking to people in Hebrew?

Q: What is easiest for you, listening comprehension, reading comprehension, or

Reflection 3 — Learner’s Block

Through my study of Hebrew, I am already gaining intriguing insight on my own cognitive

Q: What advice do you have for someone trying to learn Hebrew?

Q: Considering you are fluent in so many languages, is there something particularly

Reflection 4 — Settling in and Conversations

In regards to my acquisition of Hebrew, I have noticed a very distinct confirmation of

Reflection 5 — More New Experiences

Q: Which languages have you grown up with or studied in school?

Q: What were your motivations for coming here to learn Hebrew?

Q: Are there any techniques that you use to learn Hebrew?

Q: Do you intend to continue learning Hebrew after Ulpan? If so, how?

Q: What were you motivations for learning Hebrew?

Q: Do you have any tricks you use to learn Hebrew?

Q: How do you intend to continue in your Hebrew studies?

Q: Do you have any other comments about your experiences here?

Reflection 6 — Final Week in Israel

Q: What languages do you currently know?

Q: What are your motivations for learning Hebrew?

Q: What did you find particularly easy or difficult about Hebrew?

Q: Does you background in other languages help you learn Hebrew?

Q: Do you intend to continue in your Hebrew studies? If so, How?

Q: What languages do you currently know?

Q: What are your motivations for learning Hebrew?

Q: Does you background in other languages help you learn Hebrew?

Q: Do you intend to continue in your Hebrew studies? If so, How?

Ilan Stavans’ ​Resurrecting Hebrew

What began as an unassuming exploration to discern the significance of an arcane dream

legacy of the Revivalists’ efforts in modern Israel.

A recurring theme in Stavans’ exploration is the notion of a common language being

synonymous” (Stavans, 2008, ‫י‬, para. 23).

no longer be a footnote (Stroum Center for Jewish Studies, 2014).

pedestrianization of Hebrew were indeed legitimate. He describes accounts of asking everyday

​ ew York, New York: Schocken Books.

Stroum Center for Jewish Studies at the University of Washington. [StroumJewishStudies].

Berdichevsky's​ Modern Hebrew​ and Harshav’s ​Language in Time of Revolution

As Benjamin Harshav provocatively asserts, “The revival of Hebrew as a living language

simply the Revival’s icon, Eliezer Ben Yehuda.

toward lingual unification between Jews of a plethora of cultural backgrounds. As Norman

(Berdichevsky, 2014, p. 80).

(Harshav, 2009, "Flowers Have No Names”).

of “a limited range of religious topics” (Harshav, 2009, "Flowers Have No Names”). As

and science to politics and commerce (Harshav, 2009).

described as a steady, uninhibited development (Berdichevsky, 2014, p. 82). Bitter language

(Berdichevsky, 2014, p. 86).

Harshav, B. (2009). "Flowers Have No Names: The revival of Hebrew as a living

Berdichevsky’s ​Modern Hebrew:​ Part 2

instruction, in essence serving as preparation for a future Hebrew-dominated culture in Israel.

Hebrew language high schools in Palestine” (Berdichevsky, 2014, p. 107).

(1887-1962), published numerous textbooks intended to teach basic conversational Hebrew to

Ilan Stavans’ Resurrecting Hebrew

ew York, New York: Schocken Books.

Berdichevsky's Modern Hebrew and Harshav’s Language in Time of Revolution

Berdichevsky’s Modern Hebrew: Part 2

empower those considering relocating to Eretz-Israel. In the foreword of Ha-Medabber Ivrit