In 8th grade, my mom signed me up for a BBYO game night at someone’s house. I didn’t want to go, but I convinced a few of my friends to come with me. That night, we stuck to our corner playing an endless game of UNO, completely intimidated by the older members who all seemed to know exactly what they were doing. Acronyms like RMR, BBG, AZA, SRC, and IC were flying around like confetti—I had no clue what any of it meant. I went home thinking the night was, honestly, pretty mediocre.

Then came the Nuggets game—another thing my mom signed me up for. It was fun, mostly because I got to go to an NBA game for free. But still, I didn’t totally get what BBYO was about.

A few months later, she signed me up for SRC (Spring Regional Convention). That time, I said yes more willingly. My two guy friends from my chapter were going, and I remembered my siblings talking about how fun conventions were through another organization. I walked into that hotel with some excitement, but also a ton of nerves. Boulder wasn’t even a real chapter back then. We were temporary. No one really expected us to show up.

There were four of us total: me, the only BBG, three alephs, with two of them being in 8th grade and one who was a junior. That Friday night, I remember sitting way in the back during services with them, not really understanding what was going on. At dinner, I didn’t know where to sit, so I ended up with a table of 8th grade alephs. I looked around at all the BBGs laughing with their friends, and I just felt... disconnected. Like I wasn’t part of it. But that changed fast. One of my roommates asked me who I sat with, and when I told her, she insisted I sit and hang out with her and her friends that night. That small gesture flipped the switch.

By the end of the weekend, I didn’t fully get senior lives or why people were crying, but I felt something shift. I started realizing BBYO was more than just events, it was a real community. And that maybe, just maybe, there was a place in it for me.

Soon after, someone from my chapter asked if I wanted to be Morah. I said yes, not fully knowing what I was signing up for. Our chapter had about 7 active people at the time, but we were growing. At our Hanukkah party that term, we had 33 people show up. That was the turning point. The chapter was alive, and people were buying memberships left and right. From there, I said yes to being S’ganit, then N’siah—twice. We built something real. We got our official charter. We brought 23 people to IC’25. We went from “Wait, there’s a BBYO chapter in Boulder?” to being back on the map and known. 

One of the most defining moments came when I ran for N’siah. It was our first real election with multiple candidates and a significant turnout. For the first time, it felt like our chapter had matured into a vibrant, democratic community. That election wasn't just about choosing a leader; it was a testament to how far we had come.

And through it all, I showed up. I live an hour from Denver, and every time there was a regional event, a meeting, a convention, a kickoff, I went. No matter how far. Because I knew if I wanted to really be a part of this community, I had to be there. I had to show up. I wanted to be seen. I wanted Boulder to be seen.

Every step of my journey—game night, the Nuggets game, SRC, serving on chapter board, earning our official charter taught me how to grow something real, even when you’re not in the center of it all. I know what it means to build from the outside. And that’s exactly why I ran for RMR’s 12th Regional Mekasheret.

In a way, being Mekasheret is like being Morah—just on a regional scale. It’s about connection, encouragement, and making sure every teen, no matter what city they’re from, has the chance to thrive. I’ve lived that. I’ve done the late-night drives, built a chapter from a handful of members, and created something lasting outside of Denver. I know firsthand how hard but how worth it that work is.

BBYO gave me confidence, purpose, leadership, and connection. It showed me how far a single moment can take you. And now, I’m beyond excited to help others find those same moments. All of these experiences from saying yes to being Morah, to running for N’siah, to becoming Mekasheret have led me to say yes once again. This summer, I’ll be attending both ILTC and Kallah, ready to grow even more as a leader, connect with new people, and continue giving back to the movement that gave me everything.

So in the end one moment, conversation, or event can change everything. And I can say that for me, it did.