"YU? Are you sure?"
My dad asked me the question from inside the lit bedroom, as I stood out in the dark hall. My mom sat at the computer, and I think I saw the look go across her face when she realized how much this decision was going to cost her. "YU?" I thought.
I'd gone through various college options throughout my senior year of high school. University brochures were scattered across the table in the center of our 4-man Yeshiva bedroom. UWM. Saint John's. Queens. MSOE. MATC.
Yeshiva University.
I remember there was a brief period when I wasn't sure if I'd make it in. When I was contemplating what I'd do if they turned me down. How I'd deal with the decision. Knowing what I know now, that was a crazy thought to have. But I remember when my dad called me on my cell phone (illegal in my Yeshiva) with the approval letter, I was happy. I'd been accepted! I was going to New York! I wasn't sure of what it all meant, but I knew exactly why I'd chosen YU. The same reason most Jews choose it, I imagine- it's Jewish. The thought of going to a non-Jewish university with no friends was an even less-happy thought than the prospect of going to a Jewish institution with no friends. At least we'd have something in common. I could make a home there. I could be happy. True, I didn't know what I wanted to go into, but I figured that story would be the same no matter what college I went to, and I'd have plenty of time to figure it out along the way. Overall, I wanted to stay the religious Jew that I was, and I didn't see that happening in a place like UW.
So, I went. The first few months were miserable. I felt alone, homesick, friendless. When my dad and I pulled up to the school with my aunt and grandmother, I heard about his first time being dropped off on Amsterdam Avenue, when he got out of the car and instantly had a group of friends apparate to help him unload his bags. "You're going to have that group of friends too." he told me. "It's all about making connections." I was skeptical at the time. I'd never been the popular guy at anything I did, and I was used to it.
Throughout the year I broke out of my shell a bit. I had no choice, every face was new to me. I went out, tried to get myself noticed in my own quirky way. I got a radio show, in which I used large amounts of caffeine and sugar to overcome my meekness. I got involved in drama, and thank goodness for that- I don't think anything at YU helped me decide on my career more than YCDS did. Nothing taught me more about working with a team, about building something spectacular and showing it off, about "show business"- or about myself. It was here where I made my closest friends, overcame my greatest fears, and truly found something I enjoyed doing for its own sake.
Despite this, I waffled for a long time in my undeclared computer science degree. "Computers!" I thought, "Sure, I like computers! I could be a programmer!" My intro course, was, unfortunately, atrocious. But still, I enjoyed the prospect of being able to write a program and make the Big Bucks off being a server administrator, so I stuck with it for a few more semesters, mostly taking Information Management classes in the business school, since they had the better professor.
At the end of the year, I decided that while I'd made major strides in my social scene, I felt lacking in the Israel department. Everyone I met at YU asked me "where I went" in Israel- it was always difficult to explain why I'd never given it a try. I thought I'd be morbidly homesick, basically. But I was already living in New York, how different could it be, really? And everyone came back from Israel with a group of buddies- maybe that was what I was missing? Plus, it'd give me some time to really answer the questions I had about my own religion- questions which a decade and a half of yeshivish education had done a depressingly bad job of answering.
So I was off to Israel! Fall 2010 certainly had its challenges for me. After only two shows, I already missed working with YCDS. But Israel was exciting in its own way, and while the living conditions were not as nice as YU or even my old high school dorms, they were still workable. The food wasn't bad. The rosh yeshiva was charismatic and friendly enough. I was unfortunately placed in a shiur above his for the majority of my time there, a shiur given by a rabbi with a high, raspy voice which rarely ventured above a whisper. Much of what he said I either didn't catch, or was really above my understanding anyways. I tuned out for much of the time. I loathed the long hours of seder, and longed for the end of the day (which was around 10pm), at which time I could finally get out and go see the city with my friends.
I visited my many relatives in Israel, and I got to spend time with my brother, who was going through the army at the time. He taught me some very important things that I didn't listen to, but really what else was new. My questions didn't get answers that agreed with me, and though the rabbi tried his best, he was often exhausted or unavailable, and so I was only able to meet with him a few times. I did not feel that special connection I think most Jews have to the land of Israel, and when the British kids of the yeshiva started to get unbearable, I decided to call it an early night and left Israel only half a year in. It's not a decision I regret, I only wish it hadn't needed to be made. I'd still like to go back someday soon, if I can.
Spring 2011 marked my return to YU, still officially going for computer science, but only out of lack for a better major. I thought I would spend time in Israel thinking about what kind of career I wanted, but it didn't really work out that way, and I came back to New York in much the same place as I'd been when I left. I was a bit more open, more outgoing, and made many more friendships this semester while strengthening the old ones. It was then that I took an intro to Psych course, and decided that I enjoyed that and found it more interesting than programming. So that officially became a switch at the beginning of the next semester. I was so happy to be back with YCDS, but something new really churned within me, something I'd never given a second thought before- girls.
Sure, they were always there, but it irritated me much more now that I didn't seem to have the confidence to go out and talk to them. What did I have to offer them, I thought to myself? I only considered myself average in looks, and with no real accomplishments or goals to speak of, what did I really have to talk about?
I lucked out the next semester in one way- my awesome sister landed me my first official internship with YU's PR department. I was going to be making videos for their Youtube channel, something I'd enjoyed doing since forever. My first project necessitated some footage from a Stern classroom, and so I needed a girl to do the filming for me. Ah HA! I had my excuse. Quite at random, I threw myself into a group of girls sitting around in Rubin and asked for their services. Two of them seemed uninterested, but one delivered the next day. We got to talking, seemed to get along…and it definitely didn't seem like the way the greatest nightmare of my life would start. But it was.
The words "Fall 2011" still give me a dark feeling when I look at them on my transcript. My grades plummeted as my depression intensified. I was trapped for many months in a horrible situation, unable to say goodbye but unable to prove myself to her. And so it was a never-ending source of grief. Despite this, we continued to grow closer. Eventually he forced us to end whatever it was we had, a move which should have really been made long ago. In that final Skype call, I had no words to say. "Can you just smile for me?" she asked. With tears in my eyes, I declined.
"Sorry for ruining your life!" she said, half-chuckling as she said it. Like it was almost a joke.
"Don't worry," was my reply, "you can only break my heart so many times."
Her head went down into her hands. This was not some selfish, careless girl who needed as much attention from as many guys as she could get. This was a well-meaning person, torn and forced to make an awful choice, and sometimes I still lose sight of the fact that she did care. She never wanted to hurt me, no one did. The words I heard again and again without end: "It was just a terrible situation, and you got caught in the middle."
None of that helped me come to grips with what had happened, or why. Because there was no why. And there was no closure. Even now, I feel that there's something she should say to me to take it all away, but I'm sure neither one of us knows what that could possibly be.
A few months later, I thought I had again found love. A bright, bouncy girl with an infectious laugh and great smile. Someone who could again laugh at my jokes, and even possessed the ability to make dorkier ones. Someone who rolled with the punches no matter what came her way. I came to know her in a way I suspect few people do; as a serious, critical thinker. But again, it was not to be, and after striking out for the second time, my bitterness was only compounded. I experienced hatred for a while, which had once only been a concept for me. I HATED seminaries, I HATED yeshivas. I called them brainwashers and hypocrites. I wrote a post or two which reflected that hatred. It faded after a few months, and now I view things differently. I eventually came to terms with the fact that it again wasn't anybody's fault- it just didn't work out. It wasn't "right". So I did my best to let it go, and to make peace with it.
Out of this massively depressing school year came a surprisingly productive summer. Working in a local TV station, I finally really knew what career I wanted to pursue. It still bothered me terribly that I couldn't look forward to a future with anybody in particular, but I knew deep down that someone would come along someday. My theater experience soon culminated with my work as YCDS's stage manager, and at last I felt proud of myself just for being me. I was proud of the person I'd become, and I think it was then that I really knew I had a bright future ahead.
Nowadays, I'm no stranger walking around YU. I have that group of friends who help me with my bags. I've made so many connections which I know will last me the rest of my life. I've been through so many things with so many different people, from sitting in the caf and joking about our miserable love lives, to fighting alongside them to keep our dramatics society in the school budget. I've learned so much, and while I still have doubts about certain parts of halacha and the Torah, I've discovered that I'm far from being the only one. I think I've settled on a level of observance I'm comfortable with and believe in, and in my mind that's the most important thing. I've grown, and I've prospered. I have a resume which I will be proud to present to employers after I graduate in May. I have the greatest friends a guy could ask for. And while I still may not have met that special someone yet, I'm going to keep trying. Because I'm once again convinced that she is out there somewhere.
Looking back on it all, I could never have imagined how much was riding on the answer to my father's simple question. Where would I be now if I'd chosen one of those other universities? Would things have been better, or worse? With the exception of one or two episodes, I don't feel that things could be much better for me than they are now. I really have so much to look forward to when I'm done here, and I'm in such a good position to tackle the world and whatever challenges it plans on throwing at me. And I did it all while not only maintaining my Judaism, but strengthening and molding it into something which really matters to me on a personal level.
So for all the memories, friendships, late nights (whether they were in the theater or writing papers) for the dreams and for the nightmares, both of which taught me important lessons, and for providing me with that torch of light to keep me on the right path, even when it got narrow and jagged- for all of it, I thank you, Yeshiva University.
Nowhere but here.