Being part of a Jewish community outside of Israel reminds me how deeply connected we all are, no matter where we are in the world.
As a Jewish people, we share many holidays and traditions that unite us across the globe. Whether we are in Israel, the United States, or anywhere else, our shared customs keep us connected as one people. But in Israel, the upcoming season is particularly unique because it is filled with significant national and historical days. Yom HaShoah (Holocaust Remembrance Day), Yom Hazikaron (Memorial Day), Yom Ha’atzmaut (Independence Day) and Lag BaOmer create a heavy yet meaningful period of remembrance and celebration. This is very different from what I have experienced here in America, where these days are often marked in a different way, or sometimes not at all.
I would love to share with you one of these days: Yom Hazikaron — a day that deeply shapes not only Israel’s history but also my own personal story.
Yom Hazikaron (sundown April 29-30) is one of the most difficult days in Israel. It is a day when we stop everything to remember and honor the soldiers and victims who lost their lives in Israel’s wars and acts of terror.
We recognize that those who fell sacrificed their lives to protect us, to protect Israel, to ensure that we can live in peace and security. They fought so that children could grow up without fear, so that we could live in a reality that feels normal—not one filled with uncertainty and danger. This is a day that is painful for all of Israel, and at the same time, it is a day of unity. We feel each other’s pain, we share in the grief and we remember together.
I remember myself, ever since first grade, standing at the school ceremony, listening to the heartbreaking words of families who lost their loved ones. I remember sitting quietly, absorbing the sorrowful songs with lyrics that carried so much pain.
From first grade through high school, Yom Hazikaron was always a respectful and meaningful day. As I grew older, I began to understand its significance on a deeper level. Suddenly, I knew names, faces—people I had met—who were no longer with us. I never imagined that one day I would hear their names being honored in the ceremony.
One of the most powerful moments of Yom Hazikaron in Israel is the siren. For one minute in the evening and two minutes the next morning, the entire country stops. Cars even stop in the middle of highways and people get out of the cars to stand next to them. Everyone stands in silence, heads bowed, some with tears in their eyes. The sound of the siren is not just something we hear; it enters the body, makes the heart beat faster and fills us with a deep sense of reflection and respect.
It’s a moment of national unity—where from the youngest children to the elderly, we all stand together, in silence, in honor of those who gave their lives for our safety and our country. This deeply rooted culture of remembrance and respect isn’t just something we practice in Israel—it’s something we group up with.
From a very young age, we’ve been surrounded by it. It’s in our schools, in our homes, in the songs we sing, and the storied we hear. These days of memory—Yom Hazikaron, Yom HaShoah—aren’t just marked once a year; they shape our identity. They’re not just national days—they’re personal.
That’s why being here in America this year has felt so different. Here, I’ve noticed that these difficult days are not always talked about as openly, especially with young people. They may be acknowledged, but they don’t always carry the same emotional weight, the same shared intensity, the same silence that echoes in every corner of the country.
This year, for the first time in my life, I will be observing Yom Hazikaron outside of Israel. I will be far from my family, my friends and the place where I am used to marking this day in a formal and respectful ceremony.
I worry that it will feel different, that I will feel distant from my people at a time when all of Israel mourns together.
But I find comfort in knowing that even here, in this Jewish community, we will come together to commemorate this day. I hope to see our whole Jewish community come to this year’s Yom Hazikaron ceremony at the Jewish Community Center, to show support, connect with the grief of the families and the mourning of the entire nation of Israel and to remind ourselves that no matter where we are—we are one, connected at heart.
The Yom Hazikaron event at the J near Creve Coeur will take place at 7 p.m. on April 29. The event is free but registration is required at jccstl.com/event/yom-hazikaron-ceremony/.
Ziv Shalev is part of the Shinshinim program. This program is a partnership between the Jewish Federation of St. Louis and the Jewish Agency for Israel (JAFI), with the support of the Lubin-Green Foundation a supporting foundation of the Jewish Federation of St. Louis. The Shinshinim are 18-year-old Israeli emissaries who work at several partner organizations throughout their year of service: Congregations Bnai Amoona, CRC, Kol Rinah, Shaare Emeth, Temple Emanuel, Temple Israel and United Hebrew as well as the Israeli Scouts and Saul Mirowitz Jewish Day School. During the summer they work at Ramot Amoona, Camp Emeth, Camp Ben Frankel and GUCI.
