My name is Daniel Zacks. I was born and raised in Detroit, Michigan. I made Aliyah at age ten, on July 6, 2006. My family moved straight to Modiin, where we’ve lived ever since. I am currently in my first year at the Yeshivat Hesder in Kiryat Shmona.

From the time I was three years old, I went to Akiva Hebrew Day School in Detroit. We were taught about the importance of Israel from a very young age and were given Hebrew lessons daily. All of the talk about the ‘importance of Israel’ made me think, “good for them, but that stuff has nothing to do with me.”

I was a regular American Jewish boy. I was on my little league baseball team, played street hockey almost every day, and lived right next to a 7-11. We had a Jerusalem Pizza, a JCC, and a nice community. I thought my life was perfect and couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.

During the year, we flew to Israel for my uncle’s wedding. He was my dad’s third sibling to make Aliyah, after spending some time in Yeshiva and drafting into Golani.

We spent a few weeks in Israel, doing tiyulim and visiting tourist attractions, and I enjoyed every second of it. Still, I thought of Israel as a “nice place to visit, but never to live.” I remember my parents having a lot of hushed conversations for the few weeks after our return to Detroit. Soon enough, I found out what those were about.

One Shabbat morning, I overheard my parents talking to a shaliach in Detroit about next year and how excited he was. I pulled my dad to the side and asked what the discussion was about. He informed me that he and my mother had decided that we would be making Aliyah the following summer.

You can imagine my emotions when I was informed that I was going to be stripped of all relatives living in Detroit, friends, school, and of course, Tigers games. I was completely distraught.

I told my parents that I wasn’t coming with them, that I would stay with a friend in Detroit. They said that wasn’t happening, and that we would be making Aliyah as a family the following summer. At that point, I went in to my room and slammed the door. I cried for about five hours. I wanted to know why, how, what. I wanted to know what wasn’t good enough about Detroit, and what was so special about Israel.

Eventually, my dad knocked on my door, asking to speak. We had our first meaningful conversation that I can remember. This was in March, a couple weeks after my first Super Bowl that I cared about, and my dad made me view the game like I never had before.

He said, “You just watched the Super Bowl on TV. Would you rather have gone to the game, or would you rather sit back and watch it at home on TV?” I replied the obvious answer, “Of course I would rather have gone to the actual game.” “Well,” my dad said, “imagine that Israel is the Super Bowl. We daven and learn about Israel every day. You can either learn it, or actually live it. In our generation, we have the opportunity to live it. If you could have gotten a ticket to the Super Bowl, wouldn’t you rather have gone?”

That message completely changed my view of the move. At that point, I was able to understand how hypocritical it was to daven about Israel every day, learn about Israel in school, but live in my comfortable home in America.

Until the very end, I was still having play dates, sleepovers, and birthday parties with my friends. We had fourteen goodbye events in honor of our family. We weren’t running away, we were coming by choice.

When my mom’s cousin got married that year, we stayed an additional two weeks for a pilot trip. We visited many communities including Yad Binyamin, Zichron Yaakov, Tel Mond, and Modiin. In the end, we chose Modiin. The rabbi of Modiin did his shluchot in Detroit, and we formed a connection with him. Another reason was that my parents wanted a soft landing for us in a community filled with Americans, to feel more comfortable.

After packing our stuff into a lift, saying our last goodbyes to Detroit, we headed to New Jersey. On the way to the airport, anticipation filled our car. Seeing everyone saying goodbye to their own families, knowing exactly what they were feeling made me feel like I wasn’t alone, like there were other crazy people that had made the same decision as we did.

We were on a Nefesh B’Nefesh charter flight, which meant that there was a huge party waiting for us when we landed in Ben Gurion. There were signs, hugs, food, music, emotions, you name it. We reconnected with all my family that had make Aliyah before us.

After the party, however, we had to get started with real life. My parents sent us to Camp Achdut, a place with a large population of Modiin kids. That helped me gain a few friends before school started, and I recommend that idea for everyone making Aliyah with kids. I remember that sunny afternoon, where we came home from camp and saw people bringing things into our house. We were ready to begin life in Israel.

Once that first school year of fifth grade started, it became obvious how much of a culture change it had been. It is one thing to go to camp in Israel with a lot of Olim, and it is an entirely different story to walk into school the first day, knowing no one, and barely speaking the language that everyone spoke.

I didn’t want to go to Ulpan. I felt I would learn more Hebrew by being in a regular classroom with Israelis, and hanging out at recess with them, than sitting with a bunch of English speakers and learning what words mean. I even started my own Hebrew-English dictionary, full of words that were important for a kid my age to know.

That first morning, I walked into that classroom and sat next to a kid in the front row. I figured he would be disappointed that the kid he was sitting next to would not even be able to communicate with him. To my surprise, we quickly became best friends. He thought it was ‘magniv’ that I was a real American. He helped me with whatever I needed and even introduced me to the other kids in the class. He started making sure that I was always  invited to what is called a ‘bayit cham’ where every couple weeks some guys go to someone’s house, watch a movie, play games, and have dinner.

By then I had begun to integrate into Israeli society, and I am forever grateful to him for doing that for me. Our shlichim in Detroit told me that if the kids can see that you’re athletic, you’ll make new friends in no time. Sure enough, recess after recess, I went to the soccer field. The best excitement was when I scored my first goal. At that point, I was still counting how many friends I had accumulated. That day, I got 6 invitations to boys’ houses to hang out.

While this was all going on, I, of course, had made friends with the Americans in my school. This included playing little league baseball, football, and talking in my mother tongue. I was more comfortable with them, but realized it was much more important for my development in the Israeli society to be hanging out with Israelis. Whenever I had clashing events, I chose to hang out with the Israelis.

I had a baseball teammate, who had flown to Prague to represent Israel on the Israel National Baseball Team. When I first heard that, it sounded like the coolest thing ever. I decided to go to tryouts, and see what would happen from there.

You can imagine my reaction and feelings when I got the email telling me I had been accepted to play on the team. Here I was, a boy from Detroit who loved playing baseball, who had moved to Israel just a few months ago, and was selected to represent the whole country with a baseball.From that point on, I pretty much only wore our practice shirts with “Israel” written across it, as a symbol that I belonged here.

Not yet getting involved in Bnei Akiva, my Shabbat afternoons were reserved for my American friends. School was still hard language-wise, but now I had a ton of friends helping me out when I needed.

After what felt like a week, the school year was over. It was time to start getting ready for the tournament in Czech Republic. Here is something I learned there: There is nothing in the world like singing Hatikva in a foreign country, wearing the blue and white Team Israel uniform, and representing the country in Europe.That was the first moment I was proud of the country, and that I was 100% certain we had made the right choice.

The fact that we played against countries, that seventy years before had tried to make sure there wouldn’t be a Jewish team at that tournament or anywhere, made it feel like more than just a game. I thought about how proud the Jewish communities in Europe would’ve been, seeing a group of eleven-year-olds proudly representing the Jewish country in Europe. We were a young team, and didn’t do very well in that first tournament, but we acquired experience that would prove to be useful the next year in Italy.

I look back and consider myself an “Aliyah Success” story. I played on the Israel National Team for six years, traveling to Czech Republic, Italy, and America. I ended up joining Bnei Akiva, and was a counselor for two years. I finished eight years of school in Israel, and now learn in the Hesder Yeshiva in Kiryat Shmona. I often wake up for baseball games at 3 AM, and I coached the Modiin middle school baseball team. I have many more Israeli friends than American friends, and, as a result, speak almost perfect Hebrew.

My dad is the oldest of seven siblings, and six of them are here with their families. When each one came, there was a huge celebration in Ben Gurion, and I remember feeling that they, too, are finally home. Just two years ago, one set of grandparents made Aliyah. A couple months later, in a true form of patriotism, my other grandparents made Aliyah on Yom Haatzmaut itself!

I love the amount of freedom that kids have in this country.  School of course was a little harder here, but school is hard everywhere. I love that wherever you look, there are soldiers who are there to protect you. I love that young boys look at these soldiers with jealousy, awaiting the day that they too can protect the country.I love Naftali Bennett, and the fact that when I met him, he started a conversation with me like I was his best friend.

I love the Rikud Dgalim, the flag march on Yom Yerushalayim, where they shut down Jerusalem for tens of thousands of teenagers to march with Israeli flags to the Kotel. I love that I can go to a mall and it has a kosher food court. I love that I can go visit the Kotel anytime I want to-something Jews wished they could do for the last 2,000 years. I love that I can learn a story in Tanach and go on a tiyul that retraces their footsteps.

I love that I see the blue and white flags hanging all over the country. I love that public busses say Chag Sameach on holidays. I love that during Operation Protective Edge, I felt all of Israel come together as one nation. I love how Purim parties start a month before Purim.

I love that the most common form of graffiti in Israel is “Am Yisrael Chai”. I love that I feel like I belong here. I love that I can go to a basketball game, and hear Hatikva as opposed to the Star Spangled Banner.

I’ve been to Poland with my school where I learned about the importance of the Jews having their own home state. No, it’s not perfect, but together we can make it a better place.  I look forward to proudly serving my country, the ONLY Jewish country, in the army, starting next year.

I am beyond grateful for my parents’ life-changing decision, and I try to never take anything for granted. I’ve seen both sides, and recognize the arguments for each, but I can honestly tell you that the right thing to do is to live in Israel.