Jordan Rosenbloom

There are a lot of things you expect to leave behind when you graduate from college.

Classes end.

You move out.

The routines you had for four years disappear.

People scatter to different cities.

You move on.

But some relationships don't stay behind.

For me, one of those relationships is with Rabbi Adam.

I graduated from Berkeley in 2019.

Years later, Rabbi Adam is officiating my wedding.

When I say that out loud, I think it captures something important about what Berkeley Hillel can become when you really invest yourself in the community.

The value doesn't stop when college ends.

I got to know Rabbi Adam through a lot of different experiences at Hillel.

During my senior year, I participated in his "Booze and Schmooze" conversations.

They were intimate gatherings where we could talk about Jewish ideas and how those ideas intersected with our lives.

I had grown up going to Jewish day school, so that kind of conversation was familiar to me.

But doing it in college felt different.

We weren't children sitting in Jewish studies class because it was on our schedule.

We were young adults choosing to sit together and think about what Judaism meant in our own lives.

Rabbi Adam even hosted us at his home once.

That kind of experience made Hillel feel incredibly personal.

I also remember bringing Rabbi Adam into another part of my college life.

I wasn't in a Jewish fraternity, but we had a lot of Jewish guys in the house.

We decided to hold a Shabbat dinner in our backyard.

Rabbi Adam came.

We had wine and everything we needed for Shabbat.

He led the blessings.

For a lot of the guys there, celebrating Shabbat every Friday wasn't part of their normal routine.

But that night, we all came together.

That's something Rabbi Adam and the Hillel staff were particularly good at.

They met students where they were.

They built relationships that weren't limited to formal programming.

And they genuinely cared about the people who walked through the building.

I saw that with Emily, too.

Because I worked at Hillel—in the kitchen and at the Wednesday barbecues—I spent a lot of time with the staff.

Emily and I worked together constantly.

We hung out.

She became someone I knew beyond simply being a staff member at an organization I participated in.

That's what made those relationships different.

The people at Hillel weren't simply running programs for students.

They were getting to know us.

And in Rabbi Adam's case, that relationship continued long after I left Berkeley.

We stayed in touch.

Years went by.

My life moved forward.

And when it came time for one of the most important Jewish moments in my adult life—my wedding—the rabbi standing with us would be someone who had been part of my life since college.

There's something really special about that continuity.

College is such a transitional period.

You're figuring out who you are.

You're building relationships.

You're deciding what parts of your upbringing you want to carry with you and what you're going to do differently.

At the time, you don't necessarily know which people or experiences are going to remain important years later.

I don't think I could have known when I was sitting in one of Rabbi Adam's small discussion groups or bringing him into my fraternity backyard for Shabbat that he would someday officiate my wedding.

But maybe that's exactly the point.

A real community isn't only valuable because of what it gives you in the moment.

The deepest communities become part of the life you're building afterward.

That's what Hillel became for me.

Of course I remember the Wednesday barbecues.

I remember working in the kitchen.

I remember the friends.

I remember the discussions.

I remember having a Jewish home base on campus.

But when someone who knew you as a college student is standing beside you years later as you begin your marriage, you realize that Hillel gave you something that extended far beyond your four years at Berkeley.

The relationships lasted.

The community lasted.

The connection lasted.

That's the value of Hillel that can be hard to capture when you're still a student.

You think you're finding a place to belong during college.

Sometimes you're actually finding people who will still be there for the milestones that come long after it.