This June, I found myself in Israel as sirens wailed and missiles streaked across the sky.  What began as a work trip ended with an evacuation through Jordan and Qatar, leaving behind friends, colleagues, and an entire nation grappling with the aftermath of a ceasefire with Iran and the ongoing threat of Houthi rockets.

The summer that followed was, by Israel’s standards, relatively quiet.  But quiet in Israel does not mean calm.  It means that although daily life presses forward — children go to camp, weddings take place, businesses stay open — the shadow of conflict is never too far away.

Now I’m headed back.

Anyone who has landed at Ben Gurion Airport knows the feeling.  There’s that iconic Jerusalem stone ramp leading you out of arrivals, the bustling duty-free shops, even that flimsy little immigration card that’s a nuisance to carry — but feels like a prized possession.  I can’t wait to hold it again.

And yet I’d be lying if I said I’m not nervous.  I remember not sleeping.  I remember the helplessness of not knowing when — or if — I’d be able to get home.  I remember the hours in the shelter, listening for the all-clear.

But I also remember something else: the resilience.  Israelis laughing in between sirens.  Families making dinner while rockets threatened overhead.  Young people grabbing guitars and singing in the shelters.  There’s a kind of strength here that’s hard to explain — a refusal to let fear win.

The question I ask myself now is, am I as strong?  I’d like to think so.  Maybe the answer is in going back — not just as a visitor, but with purpose.

This month, I’ll return with the American Middle East Press Association (AMEPA).  Our mission is to bring open-minded journalists to Israel, to show them the truth on the ground, to break through the distortions and noise that dominate international headlines.  Post–October 7, Israel’s public image has taken blow after blow.  Too often, it’s portrayed in caricature — a one-dimensional villain, stripped of humanity.

That’s not the Israel I know.  And that’s why I love working with TalkIsrael.org, because they strategically keep blinders on — focused on the positive promotion of Israel’s amazing food, culture, people, and more.

The Israel I know is complicated, diverse, and alive.  It’s a place where trauma is real, but so is joy.  Where tragedy and celebration coexist, often within the same day.  Where strength is not just military, but cultural, spiritual, and deeply human.

By bringing journalists to see this reality firsthand, my hope is to chip away — slowly but surely — at the hardened misconceptions that surround Israel today.  We won’t change the narrative overnight, but we can open eyes.  We can plant seeds.

For me, this return is more than a professional assignment.  It’s personal.  To step once again onto that stone ramp at Ben Gurion, to feel the pulse of the country, to stand with Israelis in this moment — it’s a privilege.  It’s also a responsibility.

I’m nervous.  I’m excited.  But most of all, I’m ready.

Israel deserves to be seen not just for its conflicts, but for its people.  I intend to help make sure the world sees both.

Image via Pxbarn.