Sarah Lewis

My first memory of Berkeley Hillel actually happened before I was a Berkeley student.

I had grown up in Michigan, and after I got into Berkeley, my mom and I traveled to California to visit the campus. I hadn't decided yet where I was going to college. We did the official campus tour and spent the day walking around, trying to picture what my life might look like there.

Honestly, I remember feeling pretty overwhelmed.

Berkeley was huge. I didn't know anyone. I was coming from a place where I had grown up my whole life, and suddenly I was walking around this enormous campus on the other side of the country. I felt a little like a small fish in a very big ocean.

At some point, my mom and I happened to walk by Berkeley Hillel.

We hadn't scheduled a tour. We weren't expected. We just looked at each other and thought, "We should probably stop in and check it out."

So we walked through the doors.

Almost immediately, people came up to us.

There were students and staff all around the building, and instead of making us feel like we had interrupted something, they welcomed us in. They showed us around. They introduced us to people. Staff members told me about things I could get involved in if I decided to come to Berkeley. They connected me with students who were only a year or so older than I was and who had similar interests or backgrounds.

It was completely different from how I had felt walking around the rest of campus.

Suddenly, instead of looking at thousands of unfamiliar faces and wondering where I would fit, I could picture myself there.

There were things I could join.

There were people I could get to know.

There was a place for me.

I remember having this feeling of, "Wow. I could really fit in here. I could thrive here."

I think my mom felt it, too.

There was a front desk at Hillel where students would sit and welcome people into the building. The students working there were called DOFIs—Directors of First Impressions. As we were looking around, my mom jokingly said something along the lines of, "You could do that someday. That could be your job."

At the time, it was just a little comment.

A couple of years later, it was my job.

I became a DOFI myself.

There was something very full-circle about sitting at that same front desk and getting to be one of the people welcoming someone else through the door. I knew firsthand that opening that door could mean much more than simply letting someone into a building.

As a DOFI, I learned that pushing the button to open the door was really only the first step.

The bigger question was: How do we bring someone in?

How do we make sure the person walking through that door feels noticed?

How do we help them find people they might connect with?

How do we make it clear that there is a place for them here?

I had been on the other side of that experience.

Before I had even chosen Berkeley, someone had done that for me.

I came to Hillel as a prospective student who was far from home, didn't know anyone, and was trying to imagine whether I could build a life in California. The people inside made an enormous university suddenly feel smaller and more personal.

That first visit became one of the reasons I felt comfortable choosing a school so far away from where I had grown up.

I knew that if I came to Berkeley, there was already a community waiting for me.

And then, years later, I got to help create that feeling for someone else.

When I think about Berkeley Hillel now, I think that's one of the things that stays with me most. Belonging doesn't happen automatically. Someone creates it.

Someone walks over.

Someone says hello.

Someone introduces you to another student.

Someone makes you feel that, in the middle of a huge and unfamiliar place, there is a door you can walk through where people will know your name.

Berkeley Hillel did that for me before I was even a Berkeley student.

In some ways, I think I chose Berkeley that day.

I had found the place where I belonged.