I would have been incredibly touched by her understanding… had I not felt thoroughly misunderstood

Me? You want me to lead the group?

I’m fairly certain those were my first thoughts when Malka, the head coordinator of JEP, reached out to me. We shared family friends, and she knew of me; now she wanted to know if I’d be interested in organizing the weekly study sessions.

It would be my responsibility to match up the high-school-aged tutors with the secular students coming to the program. I’d be doing follow-up, ensuring the pairs were working out to everyone’s satisfaction. I’d be required to take attendance each week, work out any last-minute hitches, and circle between pairs on the ground.

For a responsible 15-year-old, the tasks seemed more than manageable.

It was the kiruv part of it that had me hesitant, skeptical if I was the right one for the job.

At that point in my life, I was doing the typical Modern-Orthodox high school circuit. What did I know about teaching Judaism? Sure, I’d gone through day school, I knew how to read a (basic) pasuk… But what if they asked me more?

What about halachah? Hashkafah? (Did I even know what that word meant?) How was I supposed to give over information to the tutors, when I myself had no idea what the difference was between Simchas Torah and Shavuos? (True story. Thank G-d I discovered Rabbi Eliyahu Kitov’s The Book of Our Heritage; it was my constant companion that year.)

Why I was tapped is beyond me. Perhaps it was desperation, and Malka knew that at least the technicalities would be taken care of. Perhaps she didn’t really know me all that well at all, and assumed I was an overall good kid with decent hashkafos. Or perhaps she saw something latent there, that, with a bit of prodding, with a little responsibility, could blossom into something more.

Honestly, the only reason I said yes was because I needed to fulfill my “chesed hours” for school, and this opportunity literally fell into my lap.