Julianna Goldfarb

When I think about Berkeley Hillel, the first image that comes to mind is sitting behind the DOFI desk.

I was a DOFI—Director of First Impressions—for two years, my junior and senior years of college. And honestly, it was probably the best job I could have had in college.

It was technically a job, so I had to show up. But I wasn't being forced to be there. I wanted to be there. I was getting paid Berkeley minimum wage to sit at the front desk, talk to my friends, do my homework—even though we were probably not supposed to—and meet people.

And because I was there so often, I got to see a completely different side of Hillel than I would have seen if I had only gone to the events I was interested in.

I got to know the whole community.

I met so many people I never would have met otherwise, including a lot of Israelis. Growing up in Miami, I didn't grow up around a lot of Jewish people, and especially not a lot of Israelis. Suddenly I was sitting at Hillel and meeting people who spoke Hebrew, drank coffee together, and had their own friendships and routines.

I remember working the hour before and during the Community BBQ. The hour before BBQ was always a particularly lively time at Hillel. There would be people hanging out at Café Averys and Michelano, and there were often a bunch of Israelis talking to each other in Hebrew.

I usually had no idea what they were talking about.

But I would talk with them anyway. Kids would come in to make coffee, and I would chat with them. Over time, those little interactions became relationships.

And something shifted for me.

I started thinking, “Maybe I do want to learn Hebrew.”

Maybe Israel was something I wanted to understand more deeply.

Before Berkeley, I hadn't thought about Israel that much. I didn't have to. I hadn't been around a lot of Israelis, so Israel wasn't something that felt particularly immediate or personal to me.

But being at Hillel gave me the chance to meet people rather than just think about a country or a political issue in the abstract.

I got to know Israelis as people.

And that made me more curious. It made me want to think more critically and learn more. Berkeley became an incredibly political campus, especially after October 7, and my relationship to these questions became much more complicated and thoughtful.

I eventually signed up for Birthright, although I didn't end up going. I still haven't been to Israel. I don't work in Israel advocacy today.

But I do think Hillel gave me something important: the opportunity to become curious.

And that happened in part because I was sitting behind a desk.

Being a DOFI wasn't some grand leadership position. It wasn't a prestigious internship. It was a student job where I sat at a front desk and talked to people.

But because I was there week after week, I became part of the fabric of the building.

I saw people coming in for different reasons. I met people who wouldn't necessarily have crossed paths with me anywhere else. I got to know students who were deeply involved in Jewish life and students who were just beginning to figure out what Jewish life meant to them.

I got a much bigger picture of the Berkeley Jewish community.

And, in the process, I got a bigger picture of myself.

I started college without thinking that Jewish community would necessarily be important to me. I certainly didn't expect that one of the most meaningful parts of my college experience would be sitting behind the front desk of a Jewish building.

But it was.

Sometimes community happens because you sign up for an event.

And sometimes it happens because you take a job, sit behind a desk, and start talking to whoever walks through the door.