Samantha Klein

I grew up knowing that Berkeley Hillel was significant to my family, long before I ever imagined that it would become significant to me.

My grandparents met at a Berkeley Hillel formal in February 1960. My grandmother accidentally stepped on my grandfather’s foot—she was wearing three-inch stilettos—and when he turned around, he apparently told her, “Well, you stepped on my foot. You might as well dance with me now.”

They got married three months later.

They were married for almost 60 years, until my grandfather passed away. And, remarkably, I believe he passed away almost exactly 60 years to the day after they met.

So Berkeley Hillel had always been part of my family story. There may even be an earlier chapter: my great-grandmother was very involved in the Jewish community in Berkeley and graduated around 1928 or 1929, right around the time Berkeley Hillel was getting started. We don't know for certain whether she was part of the original Hillel community, but we suspect she may have been.

My grandfather's generation continued that connection. My dad and my uncle went to Cal, although I'm not sure how involved they were with Hillel. My parents didn't go to Berkeley themselves, so there was a generation in between when that particular connection wasn't as strong.

Then I got into Berkeley.

I was living at home in Sacramento during the fall of my freshman year, in 2020, because of COVID. My grandmother was living with us at the time, and my grandfather had just passed away. When I told her that I had gotten into Berkeley and decided to go, she was so excited. She immediately thought about her own story: Berkeley was where she had met my grandfather.

And then, somehow, the story kept repeating itself.

One of my first experiences with Hillel was through a friend I met in my biology class. We discovered that we were both Jewish and became friends. The following spring, after I had moved to Berkeley, she introduced me to another girl. We hit it off pretty quickly and decided we should find a time to hang out.

Because it was COVID, our options were limited. She picked up dinners from Hillel, and we took them to the Glade. We sat there and talked for hours.

Five years later, she is still one of my closest friends.

A little later, I met Rabbi Adam. He and his wife worked at the same Ramah camp as some of my closest family friends, and he had other connections to my family as well. Because of those connections, he knew that there was a student who had just moved to Berkeley during COVID and reached out. He took me out for coffee.

He was the first Hillel staff member I ever met.

And then, in my sophomore year, I started working at Hillel as a DOFI—Director of First Impressions. I sat at the front desk for three years. One day, a student came in who was, I think, visiting Hillel for one of the first times. He asked me out while I was sitting there at the front desk. We went on a couple of dates, but didn't end up dating at the time.

Then, two years later, we randomly ended up at the same resort in Mexico over spring break.

We reconnected, started dating soon afterward, and we're together now.

So my grandparents met at Berkeley Hillel in 1960. More than six decades later, I met my boyfriend at Berkeley Hillel, too.

When I think about my Hillel story, that's one of the things that makes it feel bigger than just my own college experience. There are all these threads connecting the people I love—my grandparents, my family, my closest friends, my partner—and somehow so many of them lead back to the same place.

Berkeley Hillel has been part of my family for generations.

And now I'm part of its story, too.