Tahlequah

Many of my students are reserve soldiers in the IDF. Often arriving to class in uniform carrying an M16, they bring a special intensity to the lessons. They are disciplined yet often exhausted. Their world is not just one of paraphrasing, critical thinking, research, and proper citation, but of night patrols, field exercises, and sudden deployments too. The transition from combat to class must be abrupt for them, but I rarely see them struggle with it.

One of my reservist students, Noa, introduced herself to me by saying, "Jordan, I am a fighter."

In class, she challenged ideas, questioned authority, and resisted anything that even approached sentimentalism. When we discussed misinformation, she dismissed trust as weakness. When we analyzed relationships, she argued that some emotions had no place. But Noa was always engaged, even when she was physically and mentally drained from her duties.

The semester ended three weeks ago. The final exam was given. Some students arranged to sit and review the results with me. Others were unable to do so for various reasons. Most are okay not looking. Noa wanted to see her exam but she had been deployed and couldn’t make it to campus.

Last Friday, I brought her exam to her in the Gush. I wanted to see how she lived there. I had only known her as an intense student. Now, I saw her as a soldier.

Afterward, Noa walked with me to the gate and said, "Jordan, this is the last time we will see each other."

Even after dozens of semesters, I've never gotten used to saying goodbye; I've just learned to turn it off. But maybe because of where we were, this time felt different. And as I thought about Noa both as a student and a soldier, I recalled something from near the end of the semester that had stayed with me. We had been discussing an article about an orca named Tahlequah, a mother whale who had carried her dead calf for 17 days, refusing to let go. The students were split in their interpretations. Some saw it as tragic but natural while others said it revealed deep emotional bonds in the animal world. 

Noa had participated in a group presentation in which students dramatized the story from the perspective of the dead calf’s brother. Their presentation used visuals to depict the mother’s journey through the water. Everyone understood the perseverance it took to carry the weight of the lifeless body the mother refused to abandon. 

At the end of that class, as students packed up and drifted out, Noa stayed. And then she said, "Jordan, sometimes you carry something because putting it down is worse."