According to my parents, naming me was not a difficult task. They knew they wanted a short Jewish name that would be pronounced the same no matter the language and that nobody in my family had. During lunch with friends, they were reminded of my name but didn't make much of it. After a couple of days, my dad asked if that name was okay, and they found one that checked all the boxes: Gal, which translates to wave in Hebrew. At that time, if a name didn't have an assigned gender, you had to give your child a second name. For me, this one was decided more in a rush; on the way to the hospital, my parents chose between two names. They decided that Michelle would be nice, so I was named Gal Michelle Rubel.

Although Michelle’s purpose was supposed to be minimal, it ended up being part of my everyday life. It's always confused as my first name. Every year, my teachers think Gal is my second surname, and Michelle is my name. At the start of every new school year, some teachers get my name wrong, and so I say: my name is Gal. They cross out Michelle to avoid confusion or try practicing it, and after a few weeks, Michelle is forgotten. Sometimes, my teacher insisted on telling me that Gal couldn't be my full name and added various letters. For instance, I was Gala for the whole year, twice per week. It was hard not to respond at that Gala, but I knew my name wasn't just three letters put together at random, but a constant reminder of my people, the ones who have a story that spans over 3000 years.

When I was younger, I assumed they didn't know my name because it was uncommon. Unlike some of my friends, I didn't have a name twin, not in my 100-people class, or now my 2500-people high school. I tried looking for it in keychains, Coca-Cola Bottles, or any pre-made necklaces but never had any luck. Nevertheless, it seems like I am seeing that name very often right now. Not while they do roll calls or customizations but in life-changing texts for the worse. Since Hamas started a war with Israel, Gal started to appear in hostage posters and lists in Buenos Aires because it might not be common in Argentina, but it's not rare in Israel. I don't know them, but I am proud to share a name and a homeland with courageous women and men, who now are back home because the terror machine doesn't give choices; it takes them away.

Gal Goldstein-Almog is 11 and only eleven. I still remember what I was doing at that age. I was preparing for my Bat Mitzvah, struggling with my Hebrew and trying to write my first D’var Torah, constantly asking my parents for advice. He couldn't do this even if she wanted to; he was kidnapped along with his mother and two siblings for over a month by Hamas Terrorists. They came home to an incomplete Shabbat table because terrorists murdered his father and one of his sisters on the day of the attack.

Gal Tarshansky also had her name misspelled in articles when she returned home. She was kidnapped in Be’eri and has reunited with her dad. Sadly, her brother Lior was murdered during the attack. She is 13 years old, and she should be going out and enjoying her country, maybe even going to the beach or going to school and studying for tests, but she couldn't; she was kidnapped. Her choices were taken away from her; today, she's back home, and we are still fighting for those who are not.

They have not committed any crime, they are part of the Jewish people and are named Gal like me but they had to suffer unimaginable and inhumane horrors just because of where they were. At most, Gal is not an ordinary label but something I'm proud of. Being a Gal is continuing the family traditions. Is getting asked if I'm Israeli, and is sharing an epic story with my grandfather’s name, Jonah. It can never be taken away from me or be changed by others. As long as I breathe and decide it, Gal is the name I will go by, not because it was chosen for me but because it symbolizes things I take pride in; my family, my religion, and my values. No matter if I have to tuck in my Star of David necklace because of the rise of antisemitism, or if  I can't find my name in souvenirs, or if I have to correct people on my name. Being Jewish is what makes me who I am. My name is Gal Michelle Rubel and I am a proud Jew.