How Not to Give a Fuck in a World Where There Are so Many Fucks to Give

“You come across as somebody who doesn’t care what other people think,” a date told me over dinner earlier last year.

“Really?” I quipped. It’s not the first time I’ve heard someone share those sentiments before. And yet, every time they’re said aloud, I can’t help but scoff at people's perception of me.

Despite this commentary—which I simultaneously deemed the most frightening and most kindest I’ve ever received—I have not transcended primitive human needs. Still, the offhand remark always finds a way to seep into my skin; the very skin that, for the most part, clothes my body and makes me feel at home. The same skin, that at other times, reminds me time and again that I can’t fit into last year’s jeans.

Granted, these jeans that now barely fit over my thighs, were purchased when my anxiety made it difficult to hold down any source of sustenance in my body. Still, I lament over my former figure, peering down at my body every now and then to discover a new roll hanging over my waistline. Last year, I cinched those waistlines at the tailor because they’d fall loose on my hips, and now thread by thread, I snipped them like I was at a ribbon-cutting ceremony, revealing the grand opening of a new school wing. Maybe this was not the grand opening I always hoped for, but it was my grand opening and my body.

A body that carried me and held me like a newborn child during a time when my mind could not. A body that reclaimed its appetite, that was once taken away from me. A body that I'm thankful for.

So, with most things that don’t fit, I made space.

I bought new jeans that provided me with more room to breathe. I exchanged bad attitudes to let in healthier ones. I let selfish friends fall by the wayside to make space for more caring ones. I quit a job that wasn’t making me happy, and made more time to pursue my writing.

This is not to say that I don’t care about what people think of me. But it’s to show you that if you learn to accept yourself, then you’re on your way to living your truth. And if you live your truth and let the world in on your vulnerabilities, then you set yourself free. And if you set yourself free then who the fuck cares if you don’t gain the approval of others? As long as the sun comes up in the morning, you’ll always face rejection, so why stop putting yourself out there and taking risks when you’re ultimately going to face the inevitable?

I’ll always care about what people think of me and my work as long as I care about what I think of myself and my work.

But if being whoever the fuck I want makes me happier, then, to hell what they think.

The Land of Color and Spice

I’m writing this preface in tandem with the highlights of my recent trip to Morocco because I don’t want social media to portray a black and white picture of me living my best life. My world may be full of opportunities that I work for and take pride in sharing, but it is also colored with fears and struggles that make traveling (especially planes and new places) a reliable source of much fueled agitation for me. Social media doesn’t show that. It almost feels ostentatious to share pictures of my experiences when a 640px times 640px instagram picture doesn’t show the full scope of my thoughts. Am I hurting anyone’s feelings when I post my whereabouts? Is oversharing a form of vanity? My sensitivity towards oversharing is akin to a new mother who refrains from posting pictures of her newborn because some of her friends on social media are struggling with infertility. While I take these sensitivities into account, I still hold that sharing is the ultimate form of connectivity. And that we can gain so much more good than bad from opening ourselves up to others.

Traveling doesn’t come easy to me. Any drastic change in my daily routine sends my anxiety soaring through unprecedented heights. So, naturally, the act of leaving one place for another sparks a series of unwanted clutter orbiting my headspace. Growing up, I allowed my angst to shut me out of monumental trips. Some of the more significant ones include my 8th grade graduation trip to Washington, my senior ski trip, and countless camp trips. During the summer going into 8th grade, I missed almost every day of summer camp. In the weeks before my departure to Morocco I’d been dealing with a lot of chaos in my personal life. Coupled with the fact that my trip was soon approaching, I experienced an uptick in my overall mental health. But after missing so many other milestones in my life because of my anxiety, I made a promise to myself that I would never allow my apprehensions to stop me from doing anything I set my mind to. Ultimately, I would not only go to Morocco, fears and all, but I would have a damn good time too.  

On that note, read on for my experiences in the Land of Color and Spice! Thank you JDC Entwine, our trip leaders, tour guides, and new friends for making this week the highlight of my year thus far. 

Pre-Trip:

A year ago I ask my Facebook friends if they know of any trips to Morocco. People often question if I’m Moroccan as my last name is a given testament to my family’s roots. The truth is, I don’t identify with being Moroccan at all. No family traditions like cultural foods or hennas or anything of that sort. “Are you related to so and so with the last name Azoulay?” people would ask. “I don’t know anyone with my last name except for my grandparents,” I would respond verbatim. All I knew was that my ancestors were executed from Spain during the inquisition and fled to Morocco. I was eager to learn more about my family’s background. A friend suggested I check out JDC Entwine and the rest is (literally) history.

Day 1: 

I fly to Mohammed V International airport by myself with a big ass suitcase and a backpack with my belongings. I meet 19 new faces and try to memorize all their names in one sitting. We hop onto a van that would become home for the next 7 days and drive from Casablanca through Fez. En route, we stop in Meknes to visit the old Jewish Quarter where only four Jews remain. We depart Meknes for Fez and check into the Palais Medina Hotel. We have our first ‘Core Conversation’ where we set our intentions/kavannah for the trip and check in with ourselves. How are we feeling? What can we improve on? What did we learn today? This mindful approach set the tone for our entire stay. 

We depart for the Synagogue and Jewish Community Center for dinner and learn that there are only 70 Jews living in Fez. We then meet Dorith, JDC’s Program Coordinator in Morocco who accompanied us throughout our weeklong journey and gave us insights into Jewish life there. It becomes apparent that the Jewish communities in Morocco are small but strong and vibrant. The only expectation I had before arriving was that at least a third of the country would be Jewish. We learned that with a population of 3 million, only 2500 Jews remain. I clearly did not do my research and for the first time in my life am culture shocked. I’d never been to a country where I didn’t speak the language or felt like a minority, until now. 

Day 2:

We tour the Mellah (Jewish Quarter) in Fez, capturing the essence of Moroccan culture. From the visceral views of the leather tanneries to the smell of remedial spices and oils. The colorful rug shops, handmade tajines, and Moroccan bargaining added more authenticity to our experience. 

There are no Jews left in the Mellah, yet the Ibn Danan Synagogue is restored for the sake of Jewish history. It is astounding to me that Jews once lived there and thrived there. At night we depart for dinner at Palais de la Medina where we watch Moroccan belly dancing, pseudo wedding, and magic show. We each get half a bottle of wine to ourselves (thank you JDC for the hook up) and by the end of the night are feeling all the feelz. I may or may not have invited myself on the stage and booty drop in front of a foreign crowd. That night I text my best friend and cry into my pillow because I'm still overwhelmed with the chaos manifesting in my life back home. I think about how strange it is to be both happy and sad at the same time. Above all I feel thankful for being able to feel and allow myself to lean in to those feelings with no self judgement. 

Day 3:

Excursion to Rabat! We eat lunch at Al Marsa on a beautiful port overlooking the water with Heather Chase, a US Foreign Service Officer. We chat about politics like religious freedom and human rights in Morocco. More importantly we are served Moroccan tea for the umpteenth time that day. I don’t complain because tea quickly becomes the beverage I didn’t know I needed in my life. The bus pulls up to the Casablanca Hotel and we freshen up before eating dinner at La Scala Port. We end off the night at a swanky bar, whose name I can’t recall, and drink the night away like there is no tomorrow. (Which, turns our there is. Also turns out the bus leaves at 9am, but like YOLMO,  you only live Morocco once.) 

Day 4:

Today is the day I’d been looking forward to all week. We visit Neve Shalom Hatorah in Casablanca, a religious Sephardic Jewish school, and learn about the Jewish life growing up in an Arab Muslim world. We listen to the students pray in Hebrew from their siddurs, and play with them during recess. In the 1950’s Neve Shalom opened 35 schools. Now with 480 students, one school remains. The principal informs us that Israel is not taught in schools. The Moroccan monarchy was upset that Israel took many of its people in the 50’s. And the obvious reason why Israel is not a topic of debate is because living in a Muslim country can cause contention if Israeli politics are sparked. 

Next stop: We visit Alliance, a modern Jewish school with a 60% muslim student body. Still, both Jews and Muslims are required to learn Torah studies in addition to english, hebrew, and arabic. The prestigious secular and Jewish education enables students to enter top universities abroad. I am astounded by the camaraderie between the Jewish and Muslim students. They hold hands, they’re friends, they are taught to love one another. If it weren’t for the cippahs worn by some of the Jewish boys, I could not tell the difference between a Jew and a Muslim. I think about my newfound respect for the Islam religion and how it’s not much different from Judaism. I love walking through the souk (marketplace) and hearing prayers reverberating from nearby mosques, the colorful garbs, and the exchange of kisses on both cheeks. 

We eat lunch at the SOC Jewish club, visit the Jewish Museum (the only one in the islamic world), and dance with the Jewish elderly in La Maison Du Bel Age home. Two things that stood out for me: 1: At the museum, seeing and learning about a book called “Megillat Hitler.” During WWII, someone wrote this book and brought it to Morocco so that people can be privy to the horrid events happening in Eastern Europe. Now, King Mohammed the 6th requires that all schools learn about the holocaust. 2: The OSE medical clinic: They provide medical care for needy and elderly Jews. I found comfort in knowing our people are being taken care of. 

Off to the Beth El Synagogue and kosher bakery! We end off the day with dinner at the Casablanca Jewish Club with members of the community. They voice their concerns about the dwindling Jewish population. In ten years, they say, there probably won’t be any Jews left living in Morocco. 

Day 5: 

En route to Marrakesh, we stop at the largest mosque in Morocco (and the third largest in the world.) It is absolutely divine. We take off our shoes and make our way into its corridors. We’re shown where people pray and where they cleanse their hands and feet before prayers. It reminds me of how we as Jews wash between meals and when we wake up in the morning. 

We walk through the Mellah and visit the 500 year old Lakhzama Synagogue. Marrakesh becomes my favorite city thus far and I take in the smells and colors of the Medina. We buy souvenirs like oils, tajines, tea pots, straw bags, and leather garments. We check into hotel Radisson Blue and prep for Shabbat. The local synagogue is home to Sephardic Jews and I feel at home being surrounded by familiar prayers. Dinner is hosted by a couple from the Jewish community and I try to imagine what my life would be like living in such a small Jewish community when I come from one of the largest in the world. 

Day 6:

A few of us walk to the Yves Saint Laurent museum-- a homage to the French fashion designer’s love for Morocco and an inspiration for his collections. We eat lunch poolside and tour the neighborhoods of Marrakech, specifically the luxurious Mamounia hotel with its heavenly gardens. When shabbat ends we get in a circle and sing Havdallah prayers. It makes me think about how different we all are in our Jewish identity and religion, and yet in some way we have a connection to our people. That we all feel the need to help preserve Jewish communities with a common goal for Tikkun Olam. Dinner is at Jad Mahal, a bachelorette-like scene filled with belly dancers, drinks, dim lighting, and performers. Then off to the club where things get LIT. (Half Jk, I was part of the second shift to leave because my grandma status is real.) 

Day 7:

The trip comes to a close. We spend our last day visiting the Yves Saint Laurent Gardens (an absolute dream land), and drive through the Atlas Mountains. The berber villages await our visit; one family serves us homemade butter, bread, and honey. Overlooking the mountains, our group eats lunch at a place called La Kasbah. On our long bus ride back to Casablanca we learn that Ramadan is starting in a few days and that night life in Morocco basically shuts down for the month as Muslims can’t be served alcohol. I think about how I complain after fasting for one day while Muslims are essentially fasting for one month. In a closing dinner we say our goodbyes and express our gratitude for the people we’ve met along our journey. It dawns on me how much I’ve grown as a person since the first time I traveled by myself. I finally understand the trope that travel makes you find yourself, or at least in my case, it gave me better perspective on how I want to live my life moving forward. 

Day 8: 

The few of us who leave tomorrow night sit by the pool, get massages, and decompress. Because, like, our bodies effing hurt. Dorith, angel of a human, invites us over for dinner. We eat Couscous! Lots and lots of couscous. We talk about Morocco’s political climate! And how we can save the Jewish communities! And the youth! Then we’re off to catch some zzzz’s. Au revoir, until next time!

UJA Program Executive

“Let’s meet at UJA. That’s really where I come to life,” Rina Cohen texts me the day I’m set to interview her. At 5:00pm, I make my way through UJA’s revolving doors and am greeted by a security guard at the front desk. “You’re here to meet with Rina? She’s a sweet one,” he says knowingly. As we’ll soon find out, Rina has worn many hats during her lifetime, rightfully assigning her many different names.

We sat down to chat about her travels (an enviable rolodex of countries many only dream of visiting), and she doesn’t talk about the scenery or her packing essentials. She speaks candidly about her community work in developing countries and the impact we can all make in our own communities. Our chat ended quickly so that the full time UJA Program Executive and grad school student could run home to cook up a storm, as a host for the following night’s dinner. When I asked her how she balances her busy schedule she attributed her success to a great partner and time management skills. For more on Rina, read her full interview below!

Can you tell me about your educational background?

I graduated from Yeshivah of Flatbush—very proud Flatbush alum— and had a dream of going to Barnard. I loved this idea of stepping outside of my world and being on a campus where women were running the show. I jumped right into the learning—and there was so much to learn. I majored in Psychology and completed certificate programs in Urban Education and Women and Leadership studies.  The Barnard education program afforded me the opportunity to work in lots of different public schools in Harlem, Bronx, and Manhattan. I even had the opportunity to teach a civics class in to Harlem and Bronx high schoolers who towered over me. My students were passionate about community issues and were excited to share their opinions challenging conventional practices. I realized that they were never given the opportunity to engage in a conversation with their peers about these issues, nor bring about substantive change to their community. We worked together to come up with solutions that we could implement and we had a great time taking action. I had a lot of experience teaching by the time I graduated, and I appreciated the opportunity to be in front of a classroom. This experience also sparked my interest and ability to think about community issues.

How did you incorporate learning into your travels?

My parents always encouraged me to get out and explore over the summers, so I studied abroad many summers and a semester. It started off with a summer trip to Israel called Sulam – an Ashkenaz program – with a bunch of my friends. We had a blast. The next summer, I participated in a chesed program in Ecuador. I spent an summer in Israel working in a children's home called Bet Elazraki. I had this dream of going to Australia, so in preparation for another summer, I found a study abroad program with an internship. Being an observant Jew, I called and I asked lots of questions about how we might make this work. When I got there, I set up my own kitchen. My internship was at Jewish Care of Sydney, a mental health clinic. Every day we engaged in different activities with clients who were suffering from severe mental illnesses. It was hard work.

The following summer, I studied in Cape Town, South Africa, and participated in a community development program. I think what I loved most about that program is that I had been thinking about what makes a strong community, but I never had the chance to really study the subject. In the classroom, we were focused on grassroots community development, which at it cores meant that we wanted to help local communities create the change that they themselves wanted to see. After class we worked in the townships, which are the most impoverished neighborhoods. I am a white, Jewish, Orthodox woman and this one of my first experiences fully immersing in neighborhoods that are so different than my own. The program sharpened my ability to view the world through many different lenses and also recognize instances where my own worldview was hindering my ability to either form a connection with community members or understand a specific social problem.

Muslim Danish School in Copenhaggen 

After South Africa, I stepped into an educational program in Copenhagen, continuing my community and education work. My first placement was in a preschool located in the forest, where I reveled in the freedom of one of their most progressive styles of education: no set curriculum, just a few teachers, children and a forest. I was covered in dirt every day, and I loved it, but I wasn’t able to get Barnard credit for it.  My professor searched for a new opportunity. She asked me if I was okay being placed in a Muslim private school and I said “Of course, why not?” My professor said we know you identify as a Jewish woman. And I said, “No problem, I'm all for it.” In reality, I had a huge pit in my stomach.

I took a couple of buses every day to get to this school, and the students  called me Hojam Rina, like Morah Rina. By then I had worked in so many school and acquired lots of different names. I had been called Ms. K, Ms. Rina, Ms. Kattan, Hojam Rina, and Morah Rina. My title changed based on my context but I owned it in every way – or at least tried to. What was most compelling about the experience working in the Muslim private school was that I had found a comfort and a home that I wasn't able to find in other communities in Copenhagen. And to be honest, it was shocking to me. Hojam Lelah was my co-teacher-- she only wore green, because she loved nature. I didn't plan on telling her I was Jewish on the first day but I had to mention an upcoming Jewish holiday. I was shocked when she said “You should be careful, the cookies in the teachers room  aren’t marked.” Marked? How did she know?! She welcomed me with open arms and made me feel that my Jewish identity was not something I needed to hide. Actually, our religious identities allowed us to form a strong connected. I wasn't receiving the same openness to my religious identity within other Danish communities. I was very warmly embraced in that community and I connected to many young women who had tremendous aspirations. I will never forget the joy of the young girls would go into a “girl's room” and they would quickly take off all of their head scarfs and blast music. One of the girls shared that she wanted to be a doctor, while also acknowledging that her religious identity would make it hard for her. At the time, there was so much tension between the Muslim and Danish communities. I remember feeling inspired by her commitment to her religious identity and dreams. That really helped me shape my own Jewish identity and be proud of who I am and what I bring as a Syrian Orthodox Jewish woman.

How did you bring this concept of community back home?

I decided that it wasn't practical to be traveling for a living and wanted to find a way to translate what I love into a more local lifestyle. This was especially hard for me, because travel gave me an outlet to be my full self. My best friend, Rocky Solomon, connected me with an organization called American Jewish World Service, a human rights and international development organization. The CEO there was Ruth Messinger – one of my greatest idols – and a woman who continues to carry me through my career. She is a spectacular in so many ways. I had the chance to work as her intern that summer. It was an opportunity of a lifetime. From the subway to interacting with people, I had a chance to follow Ruth’s every move that summer. Humble, articulate, sharp, and deeply committed to community work. I watched her in action and started to dream about what it would look like to be a woman solving community problems in a bold and beautiful way. This experience was also my first exposure working in the Jewish nonprofit sector.

How did you end up working for UJA?

I was trying to merge this love for education, teaching, community, and international work. I was building relationships and working to have an impact on individuals, but at the same time I was noticing so many social issues that I wanted to able to solve. This required me to be one step removed from the client and that’s how I landed at UJA.

When I graduated, I put so much pressure on myself to find a job. I applied, applied, and applied again to several organizations. I did not know much about UJA but then again Rocky saved the day. Besides for being an awesome friend, she’s a great mentor and role model. I see a lot of Syrian women struggling with a lack of exposure to a variety of jobs. Up until my junior year at Barnard, I only thought I could be a psychologist, a teacher, or a consultant. I never thought that I would be able to find a job that could combine so many of my interests.  The job was a mixed bag of lots of different things, so I thought it would help expose me to lots of different types of work. My role has recently shifted— I’m working in what’s called the Community Lab, a really cool department at UJA that works directly with the community, responding to local needs and providing professional development and leadership opportunities. Within this department, I continue to design programs that help to foster professional and Jewish leadership. I also manage scholarships for a wide swath of the community. It’s the perfect fit for me. I’m working with lots of different members of the community – from undergraduate/graduate students all the way to executives at UJA’s agencies. I speak with lots of people every day, and it feels like camp. I ended up applying for this job, not knowing much about the organization (sorry UJA!) and I quickly fell in love with the work.

Tell me about graduate school:

I work in a very academic organization and felt a tremendous amount of pressure to pursue a degree. I paused and spoke to a lot of different colleagues and friends and realized that unless I really needed a degree, it was not the time to go. I finally got to a point where I needed a degree to grow in my career, and that was a master’s in nonprofit management. I needed concrete hard skills to manage talent, finance, fundraising priorities etc . I'm in a program at NYU in the Robert Wagner School for Public Service. It's an MPA—a master’s in public administration with a focus on nonprofit management. I'm at UJA full time and I'm at school 3/4 of the time. I take three classes instead of four each semester and it should take me about 2.5 to 3 years. 

How do you balance your busy schedule?

A few answers. My first answer is that I'm married to a great partner. We both take on new challenges and opportunities and encourage each other to do so. My husband is also pursuing a degree, which is super cool. I love coming home to a space where we're both learning and excited about what we are doing. The other piece is that I have become much more aware of the fact that women have to be a lot more creative than I feel men have to be. I'm fortunate enough to work in an organization where there are mostly professional, smart, and educated women – and they're all different. UJA’s workforce contains many different models of what it looks like to have family and Jewish life. I've seen women balance their lives in many different ways.  I’m hoping that as more women in the Syrian community enter the workforce there will be more models for what it looks like to balance work/personal life.

At the time when I was thinking about pursuing this degree, I actually hesitated and said it's too much to take on working full time. I don't know how I'll do it, it seems like a lot. And my supervisor, who's been a tremendous mentor, actually recognized that I was going to miss this opportunity because I was holding myself back. And as Sheryl Sandberg said, "You don't leave, until you leave." So my supervisor offered me the flexibility to go to school. UJA is supporting me in pursuing this degree in many ways . I'm in and out of the office all the time and that flexibility is something that I've been fortunate to have. My supervisor offered a very creative solution, opening my narrow view about how one would pursue a degree and balance school and life and wife and everything – she helped me view this pursuit through a different, more creative lens.

I've had to learn to balance and prioritize, so on a day like today I'm doing groceries at 8am and I'm going to be cooking all night. Because I want to. I'm not superwoman. I don't love women to have that perception of others because I don't believe you can do it all, especially not without help. I believe you can do it all at different times or at different levels. I believe in asking for help. There's a new concept out there called 'drop the ball'. I think it’s vital to be comfortable saying “This is something I can’t do right now,” and knowing how you can leverage your great home and work lives to get done what you’ve decided to prioritize.

 What advice would you give someone looking to work in the nonprofit sector?

Within the non-profit sector specifically, there are a lot of cool and interesting positions. If you have interests and passions and you need to find a way to connect the dots, there is a space within the Jewish non-profit sector for a lot of different types of professionals seeking meaningful work. I'm combining lots of different interests and passions. If you’re interested in nonprofit work, I would say to think firstly about what would be meaningful for you in terms of work. Is there a mission or cause that you're passionate about? What content of work is interesting to you? Second, what kind of work environment would you prefer? And third, what are your skill sets and areas of expertise? And I believe that, with some creativity, at least two of those areas can be weaved together. Hopefully all three.

Where do you see yourself in the future with UJA?

I'm particularly interested in continuing to help build and shape Jewish communities in need. I’m not sure exactly where I’ll end up next, but I have some ideas. At UJA, we’re committed to building self-sufficient communities through strategic grant making and research. We examine the root causes of large-scale social crises such as lack of employment, mental health challenges, and food security. I'd like to be able to take part in this work. I'm hoping that this master’s will equip me with skills to think critically about these issues and approach them through a variety of lenses.

Americorp Member

One of my first days in uniform!

I tried meeting with Rachel on several occasions to speak about her role at City Year NY but the time it took us to play catch up on our lives (leading to a lot of side eye from customers just tryna quietly sip their tea and get some work done at Qathra Cafe in Ditmas) did not permit us to properly speak about her career. After we commenced a Take 2 on our meeting, I was able to hear all about her college years at Penn and the career choices that led her to a youth development teaching position in Astoria, Queens. It turns out, we have a lot more in common than our curly hair and love for writing (she's not a newbie to the site!). Her answers were methodically philosophical that simply asking her where she saw herself in five years granted a response that took on a life of its own. “Ideally, I know where I want to be mentally and situationally, but I don't know what I'm going to be doing,” she answers thoughtfully. Take some notes. More shiny pearls of wisdom to reflect on, below.

What did you study in college?

At first I was majoring in History and I thought for sure that I wanted to go into medicine. I just thought that was the way I would be fulfilled in life because that's what you do. You either become a doctor or lawyer to be successful. Given that a lot of women here [in the community] don't necessarily have those types of careers, I was like, I'm going to do that. As years went on I kept taking on one step below a doctor. Then, at the end of my sophomore year of college I took a poetry and literature class with a teacher who basically changed my life. Just the poems we were reading made me rethink my entire life trajectory. I remember at the end of finals my sophomore year, I was like, holy crap, I don't want to do medicine, I don't even really believe in medicine. Obviously I believe in medicine, but I'm someone who doesn't really even take tylenol because I'm scared of drugs. So I started realizing I was more into socio-emotional and psychological stuff. I switched to creative writing and I began pursuing music therapy. At this point, I don't know what I want to do in my future but I know how I want to feel at the end of the day so I'm kind of using that as a compass.

What were your internships like?

A couple of summers ago I worked for a record label. I hated it, it was boring, I was doing bitch work; my boss was really nice but he paid me in Costco trail mix (laughs) and not in money. And occasionally pizza which I didn't eat because of course I was eating salad. I hated it, I was like, why would I ever want to be in the music business? It would just ruin music for me. The next summer was when I did Chokra [handmade chokers]  to make money because I was volunteering for a music therapy center in Mount Sinai-- The Louis Armstrong Center for music and medicine--which was really cool. I helped with a choir where patients who have suffered strokes participate in a music choir led by music therapists. That summer I started Chokra to make money and now I’m just gonna make Chokras whenever I need to make quick money. I'm not very good at making money so I have to do just whip up random things, because none of the job positions that I want to do actually pay me. This past summer, I worked for my brother in marketing. It was initially just to have a job and some sort of income, but I actually really liked it because of the creative aspect, like copywriting and social media posting. August is when I started training for City Year.

How does your love for music relate?

All the things I did in college were music-related. I did the radio show, that was really fun because even when I was super stressed and I didn't have time for anything, I would just go and play a really relaxing playlist with my Israeli music and my folk music. It just genuinely helped me. I did CityStep which you've probably seen all over Facebook, it's my heart and pride and joy. I love it so much. We mentored kids through dance, so we would go into Philly public schools and charter schools and teach a class of kids for an end-of-the-year showcase. It was a dance class with games and choreography so we used that setting to teach them discipline and teamwork. It's a very similar mission to City Year, very youth-development-oriented. From that I realized I can be good at this, I feel comfortable in this setting, and even when I'm challenged I feel somewhat prepared to face that challenge.

We made gingerbread houses with our kids during our After School program around holiday time. It was a freaking mess and I can never look at frosting ever again, but it was really fun.

What did you do when you were contemplating switching out of Penn?

Thank god my mom told me this, I straight up remember this conversation as I was standing in a park. She was like, “It's your choice, you have to do what makes you happy, at the end of the day people might make comments, but nobody cares. People want you to be happy, and you can't base your life decisions on what other people think and what other people would say because it's your life and you shouldn't be miserable.” Once my mom said that if by the end of the year I was still unhappy I could transfer, I knew I had their full support. I decided to play it out, see what happened.

My sophomore year of college, I was at the gym listening to a song called “Blame it on Bad Luck” by Bayside. The whole message of the song is about looking back on life and being like: Wow, I tried to use all these excuses for not making my life better or not taking steps towards improving myself or my life, but really I just dug myself a hole of self-pity that I eventually needed to climb out of just to be able to survive and live and do good things. After that, I started gradually becoming more involved and social on campus and eventually started loving my time at Penn.

How do you measure success?

Success could be making a difference in the way that you know how.

I was very lucky because even though my parents weren't career pressuring, I’m somewhat self-motivated. I wanted to make moves and I wanted to do things. I think because they didn't try to impose what their views of career success was onto me, I was able to come to a conclusion of: Yes, money is important and I need to eventually make enough money to support myself, but that reason alone is not something that would make me wake up every morning for a job.

I think also since where we're from women having careers isn't as much of a standard, it kinda eased the pressure. Specifically in our community, we put so much pressure on the men to make the money, to the point where a lot of guys I know feel as if they have to sacrifice what they want/what their purpose in life is to make money and marry and have a family. And it upsets me that people have to go through that. Yes, being a girl here comes with lots of pressures and expectations that men don't have to deal with, but career-wise I feel much more empowered now because no matter what I do, people will be impressed, or at least accepting. Granted, you'll get crap for everything from some people. But still, I can pursue creative or non-lucrative careers and be lauded for it, rather than have people tell me, “Oh, you're doing that?” And you know what? I'm taking advantage of it. Because if I have the ability to do what I want in life and the support to do it, then I want to do something that utilizes my strengths and that makes some sort of impact .

This was College Day at our school. We all wore our college swag (the one day we didn't have to wear our uniforms!) and told the kids about our college experiences and have them ask us questions. It was mad cute.

What is CityYear?

City Year is a non-profit run by AmeriCore. Its mission is to bridge the gap between what kids in public schools need or deserve and what the public school system provides them with. It's not limited to academics. It's very much in the youth development and socio-emotional realm too which is what I love about it. Throughout the day, I'm an ELA tutor for my students. I'm an assistant teacher in a way, because I work in their ELA and elective classrooms. I jump around and help the kids who need help, but I also have a focus list of around 8 kids that I am expected to get a certain number of minutes with every week. They call us ‘near-peer mentors’ so we're not your peers and we're not your teachers. We're almost more accessible if you need something because we don't have the same responsibilities as teachers, we're a little bit closer to you and more involved in your life. But on top of that, for socio-emotional learning, I have a focus list of six kids that I check in with every single week. I talk things out with them privately. With some kids, it’s keeping their grades up or focusing in class, but with other kids it’s depression and anger management and fighting with their peers. It really varies.

We also lead a 3-hour after school program during the week, where we do homework help and clubs. Last semester, I co-facilitated Performing Arts Club and this semester, I co-facilitate Storytelling Club!

That day we hosted a "VIP Lounge" for students with perfect attendance.

How is it challenging for you?

It's ridiculously difficult and I knew it would be because I had plenty of warnings from people who said to be prepared, be scared, because between the hours and the actual work, you’re going to feel overwhelmed. You're going to cry. It's exhausting. and I knew that. But I lowkey love a challenge. And from the pragmatic point of view, this is such good experience for all the things I want to do in life, because it's making me so disciplined and it’s harnessing a work ethic that I haven't needed thus far. I work Monday through Friday, basically 50 hours a week. I make a stipend which means that I make nothing. I wake up at 5am every morning and I get home between 7:30 and 8:00. My commute is an hour and a half. It is so ridiculous but so rewarding at the same time. And I absolutely love the people I work with. Both my students and my City Year team, they all just make me smile and laugh everyday, and that makes the days go by quicker.

Where do you see yourself in 5 years? I know that’s a loaded question...

I'm now using this motto that I'm going to figure it out as I go along. I'm trying to be okay with going with the flow. I'm going to try to trust myself that I could make these decisions. I'm excited for whatever it is, but I don't really know. Also I have a feeling that I'm going to change pace and change my mind so much. I mean ideally, I know where I want to be mentally and situationally, but I don't know what I'm going to be doing.

Right now, it’s rewarding and makes me feel alive to build relationships with kids and genuinely help them through things that they're going through and also teach them skills that they're going to need. Just being a mentor for them. I think in 5 years slash next year or two years, I want to be in a place where I'm doing something that feels like my skills and talents are being put to use and that I'm making some sort of imprint on whatever part of the world that I can. But I also want to be in a stable, comfortable place where I can have a social life and still care about my body and make doctor's appointments because I have the time to. And take care of myself. I don’t know if that’s a balance I’m ever to achieve, I don't know if its even possible.

What is something you would have told yourself before starting your college career?

Be comfortable with being uncomfortable a little bit. It's okay to not be stable all the time and it's okay to do something that challenges you to a point where your limits are tested, because that will teach you so much about what you can do and what you want to do in the future. Number two, and this is something that I have been working on, is trust yourself. Trust that even in a new situation and an uncertain situation you'll be able to navigate yourself. Up until college or even graduation from college, life was basically planned out for me, there was a trajectory that I was following and the end points were always near. You had a way to get through everything because you always saw the finish line. I was lucky in that I was never really in situations where things were uncertain. Now, after graduation, it feels like there’s this vast future ahead of me and I want to do all these things. Eventually I want to get married and have kids, and I want to have a career that makes me fulfilled. All of that is now shoved into the rest of my life’s timeline and I don't know how to structure that timeline. I don't know when those things are going to happen because, Lord knows, I have no control over certain things. So just being okay with the fact that you won't know your future and that’s fine, be that’s something I'm trying to look at as fun and exciting! It changes the perspective from being like, “Oh my god, my future's so scary because I don't know where I'm going to be,” to, “Look at all the things that I can do, look at all of the people I can meet in the next years that I don't know now.” It's overwhelmingly exciting and it just depends at how you look at it. So I would say we should try to adopt the lens of: “This is exciting, this is fun, let me soak in all of it and take advantage of every moment.”