Though these eager immigrants underwent mass conversion to quash doubts surrounding their status many years ago, the uncertainty still plays a role in how Ethiopian-Israelis are viewed by Israeli society. And no matter how hard they try to blend in, the ugly specter of racial tension looms large.

However, in recent years, Ethiopian-Israelis born and bred in Israel have made significant progress, weaving their way from the fringes of the country's periphery into the social tapestry of mainstream Israeli society.  More and more, young Ethiopian-Israelis are carving out their own path, establishing themselves across many sectors of Israeli society and creating their own immigrant success stories. For many, the beginning of these stories starts with access to opportunities in higher education.

Meir Asras made aliyah with his family when he was just 3 years old. Though he's proud of his Ethiopian heritage, he says that he feels "totally Israeli," a sentiment that his parents do not share. While his parents were a source of strength for him as he grew up, Asras learned from a young age that in order to be successful in his new homeland, he would have to expand his support system beyond his home. Thankfully, a host of talented educators provided him with the support he needed to thrive.

"Growing up in Israel, I experienced a very different life than my parents," Asras explains. "And once your life is significantly different from your parents, who are your support system and your safety net, you understand that education is the only way to cope with all the challenges you have to face. There is just no other way."

Asras knew that he wanted to study business, but he struggled to find a place where he could pursue his dream.  Finally, a close friend recommended that he take advantage of Ono Academic College's Program for the Advancement of Ethiopian-Israelis for Leadership and Higher Education.  Now the vice president of investments at Bank Leumi, Asras admits that he made a wise decision. Thanks to his hard work and dedication in college and the business world, Asras manages investments totaling NIS 7 billion ($1.9 billion), analyzes new market opportunities, and conducts meetings with fund managers, among other administrative and financial responsibilities.

While Asras lives more comfortably than he once did, he hasn't forgotten where he started and openly talks about his reliance on financial aid while earning his degree. Thanks to a generous scholarship, he was able to focus more on his studies instead of juggling a job as well, like so many college students must do. Asras saw the opportunity as a "godsend" and a true "win-win situation."

Still, despite his own success, Asras acknowledges that Israel still has a long way to go to help its Ethiopian population overcome the cultural, educational and social gaps that still exist. While the number of Ethiopian-Israelis that have enrolled in higher education have risen by over 327% between 2001 and 2016, how they fare in the job market is another story.  Approximately 18% of Ethiopian-Israeli men and 26% of Ethiopian-Israeli women are employed as unskilled workers, while the same is true for just 3% of the general Jewish population.

Still, Asras believes that the availability of educational opportunities is the key to propelling the promising trend of Ethiopian-Israeli college enrollment forward, as the population's inability to afford the education required to secure higher paying jobs perpetuates a cycle of economic stagnation and social immobility.

"Israel is home to varied populations, and when you have the opportunity to meet so many people who are not exactly like you, people who you wouldn't have met in any other place, you realize that there are so many who just need to be given a shot, and they'll put in the work to make it happen," says Asras. "Education is a very powerful tool. It can buoy the Ethiopian-Israeli population and bridge the gaps in our society."

Amir Getahon, another young Ethiopian-Israeli who benefited tremendously from his higher education experience, agrees that drastic action must be taken to improve the situation for minorities in Israeli society, Ethiopian-Israelis chief among them. While Getahon serves as the chief accountant at the Education Ministry, a prominent governmental position, he still doesn't always receive the respect he deserves from his colleagues. He feels that the degrading effects of racial bias have played a huge role in keeping Ethiopian-Israelis from achieving success, no matter how hard they work to achieve it.

"Not everyone believes that Ethiopian-Israelis can be successful or qualified for a job," he says matter-of-factly. Early in his career, Getahon was dismissed from multiple job interviews for no reason other than his appearance noticeably surprising the interviewers. "They expect to see X and they get Y. And in their eyes, there is no common denominator. There aren't very many Ethiopian accountants yet. Our community still struggles for acceptance, as it's still difficult for us to secure higher paying jobs."

Despite the obvious setbacks of racial profiling, positive memories of his college experience keep hope alive for Getahon. "On campus, I experienced what Israeli society could be like in the future. Populations that are usually excluded were embraced without question – Ethiopians, Arabs and ultra-Orthodox students studied together with everyone else. Not only did they embrace us, but they also tried to help us and push us to be better, to achieve more."

Eden Tapet is a shining example of what members of minority populations can achieve when given the necessary opportunities and support. Tapet has served as an officer in the IDF's border police, earned a law degree, and achieved international fame for becoming the first female Ethiopian-Israeli officer on the country's police force. Tapet's story has been published in numerous news outlets, a short film about her life was broadcast on Israeli public television, and she is a highly sought-after public speaker who inspires other young women of color to pursue their personal and professional dreams.

Tapet earned her Bachelor of Laws degree at Ono and is now studying for her Master of Laws degree. While her professional life is still widely seen as something of an anomaly, Tapet feels as though she is treated as just another student when she is on campus. In fact, it's that feeling of belonging that allowed her to develop her trailblazing spirit.

"When everyone is accepting and you feel that every door is always open, you can achieve anything," she says. "It's only a matter of time until this positivity and spirit of inclusion spills out into Israeli society at large.  It starts on campus, at inclusive and forward-thinking institutions, and it will reach every professional sector in due time."

While these success stories, and others like them, are evidence of an Israel that is embracing diversity and inching towards inclusivity at the highest levels of industry, it is clear that real progress takes time.  For this generation of Ethiopian-Israelis however, there is plenty to be thankful for.

One of Getahon's fondest memories is of a school-sponsored celebration for the holiday of Sigd, a sort of Ethiopian-Jewish festival with a spirit similar to that of the American holiday of Thanksgiving. "In Ethiopia, on the holiday of Sigd, Jews would go up to the highest mountain, face Jerusalem, and pray all day to be 'next year in Jerusalem.' Today, we are here, so our prayers of yearning and longing have transformed into prayers of thanksgiving and gratitude. We are thankful to be here and thankful to have the opportunities to realize our personal and professional aspirations, even if we have to struggle to achieve them. Our story in this land has only just begun."

The post Education key to Ethiopian-Israeli success appeared first on www.israelhayom.com.

One such oasis exists at Ono Academic College in Jerusalem, where an experiential education program focused on disability inclusion brings together young Jews and Arabs to develop educational programming for a segment of society that is often neglected.

The program was created by Dr. Noorit Felsenthal-Berger, a psychologist who began her career by comparing the maternal identity of secular and ultra-Orthodox women. Her comparative research on different groups within Israeli society eventually led her to focus on students with special needs, those who learn differently than the general population and are largely underserved. Bringing her expertise to Ono, Felsenthal-Berger created a hands-on program in disability studies that quickly became popular with young Arab and Jewish students who were trying to understand their own identities within the complex milieu of Israeli society.

"Many of my students have never even met someone with a disability before they join my program, and their experiences are often rather jarring at first," says Felsenthal-Berger.

These experiences impact the students so significantly that they often consider quitting the program early. However, they rarely ever do.  Felsenthal-Berger explains that this initial hesitation is always followed by dedication and perseverance once the students take some time for introspection and begin to understand the importance of the task at hand.  "Learning to work with people who look and behave very differently is challenging but they instinctually realize that sticking with this work is a societal imperative that is also personally rewarding."

Together, the diverse group of students tackle 100 hours of special education fieldwork, engaging in hands-on experiential learning activities with groups of children with disabilities at different sites throughout Jerusalem, which culminates with a capstone workshop. Perhaps the most important element of the program is that the students are given the freedom to create and initiate projects of their own for the children and communities to which they are assigned.

"The projects are an opportunity for students to look outside of themselves and see the inherent humanity that all of us possess, no matter how different that other person may seem on the outside," says Felsenthal-Berger.

That shared, inherent humanity extends beyond the scope of the projects developed for the children with disabilities to the team members themselves, a collection of students with diverse backgrounds. Working side by side in the classroom and on the same projects in the field, the intense emotional experience, which is void of politics, unites the Arab and Jewish students, allowing them to see beyond their cultural differences and work towards a common goal for the greater good.

"For my students, being able to reach out to someone else and make their world better has the side effect of allowing them to see commonalities between people who are different on the surface while simultaneously boosting their own self-esteem.  It is in an empowering experience."

Many of the students in the program grow up believing that they will never be able to change Israel's status quo and that there is a possibility that Arabs and Jews will always be at odds with one another. However, through their work with the disability community and each other, they become galvanized in ways that allow them to make positive changes, realizing that they have the power to forge their own paths in life and influence the world around them.

Rasha Aliyan, one of students in the program, was raised in the Arab neighborhood of Beit Safafa, which spans east and west Jerusalem. For years, she lived next door to a boy with disabilities but rarely interacted with him. After joining the disability studies program at Ono, she became interested in learning more about her neighbor and made an effort to get to know him.

"When I started the program, I told my neighbor about it.  He was so happy that I was helping the disability community and learning about people like him," Rasha recounts. "I wanted to be closer to him, to really understand his struggles and how I, and society, could help him and change the way that we look at people with disabilities."

Rasha also became a mentor to a 16-year-old girl, who is blind and has cerebral palsy, at Ilanot, a school for children with severe disabilities in west Jerusalem. Although the girl is from Beit Safafa, Rasha had never crossed paths with her prior to meeting her at Ilanot. Rasha's interactions with individuals with disabilities in her own community inspired her to create her own project, which would partially integrate Ilanot students into Beit Safafa public schools in an effort to bring the community's children together.

"I come into class and my students are all so excited to see me, to see someone who knows them and who accepts them. Our connections are real and mutual, and I have realized that there isn't much of a difference between us after all."

While working to promote disability inclusion and education in her community, Rasha also became friends with many of the Jewish students who collaborated with her on the Beit Safafa project, realizing that they were also not nearly as different as she had been led to believe in her youth.

"We all had an amazing connection throughout the course. We worked well together and learned a lot from each other. In the end, we realized that our differences weren't so drastic, and we had more in common than we could have ever expected," says Rasha.

While Jewish-Arab friendships remain taboo throughout much of Israeli and Palestinian society, personal experiences are powerful. And when those experiences facilitate the ability to recognize humanity in "the other," they can be used as a tool to chip away at a status quo steeped in conflict and tension and make way for a much brighter future.  For Ono's disability studies students, those experiences have changed how they view each other and reshaped their worldview.

"I grew up in Beit Safafa, right next to the Jewish neighborhood of Gilo.  While Jews and Arabs live side by side every day, we don't get to know each other and don't really see each other as full people. Having experiences like this opens your eyes for the first time. There is just so much there that you didn't see before. But once you see it, it changes you forever."

The post Finding our shared humanity appeared first on www.israelhayom.com.