Ever since first coming to Israel, I knew it was the land of the Jews. After being here for five months, I’ve learned even more. I’ve learned we have a biblical history here. I’ve learned how we’ve come back to the land with Zionist fervor since the late 19th century. I’ve learned how we accepted partition plan after partition plan, how we finally got a state and how lucky we are it exists today. I’ve come to know the Israel of right now—its people, its politics, its geography (yes, I can sort of tell you where Jerusalem is on a map), but there is one thing I only came to understand a few days ago. I recently came to grasp the strong Jewish presence in the state dating back thousands of years.

Because I’m studying in Jerusalem right now, the Israeli-Palestinian conflict is as examined as ever. It’s a constant question about who really owns the land, who’s entitled to it, who’s wrong. It’s a delicate question that will never produce an answer that will please everyone. It was with this state of mind that I went to the West Bank on a siyur (field trip) last Tuesday with my Zionism class.

The first place we went was the town of K’far Etzion, which is the site of a kibbutz built before the birth of the state of Israel. On the eve of May 14, 1948, the Jordanians, with Palestinian mobs in tow, attacked the kibbutz and eventually overtook it. Every settler fought valiantly to protect their kibbutz, as well as the way to Jerusalem, but by the end of the battle only four settlers survived. The new town of K’far Etzion was built after the kibbutz fell, and it’s dedicated to the courageous settlers and their memory. We went into a tiny museum where we saw a video explaining the circumstances of the battle, and I felt an intense pride for the settlers, as well as for Jews in general, who were willing to risk their lives to protect the land they built up from the desert, the land they loved.

The other stop on our siyur was a town well within the West Bank, and way past the green line, the town of T’koa. We heard from a resident there and he explained why the land was so important. We sat overlooking a magnificent view of hills and mountains as he told of King Herod and the Maccabees, who lived in the land approximately 2,000 years ago. The most amazing thing he said was how he went excavating with a friend in the caves in the hills and found a cave that had been occupied by the Maccabees. There, excavators found Maccabean coins and chicken bones. I was floored. I could just picture the Maccabees gathering in that cave, talking strategy, talking Torah, eating some chicken. I felt their presence, and with that, entitlement.

In the Israel of today, things are tumultuous. It’s a constant battle between where the border is and why it should be there, and who has historic claim to the land. On that day, I felt the land belonged to me, to all Jews, to our ancestors. I’m not unwilling to give up land for peace; however, I know that if we do, it will now be infinitely harder for me to accept.

Genna Morton, 17 years old, is from Roslyn Heights, N.Y., and is attending Washington University in St. Louis next year. She loves downloading even more music to her iPod and kicking back with a good book.