Recently, I was asked what community means to me, and how I integrate myself into a community.
I spoke about Midrasha and Free the Children, my first real communities and about, how, I have been gifted this extraordinary skill to collect people, really strong, beautiful humans, wherever I go, and then, if/when I leave their physical space, I have the ability to keep them in my life.
That being said, when I will look back on this year, my second full year of living in DC, community is what I will remember. I have felt like I belong here, and that feeling is a direct result of these moments:
A Rosh Hashanah dinner for 30....
My apartment being filled to the brim with new and old friends...

Being supported through:
Stressful endeavors....
And stupid mistakes...
And silly adventures...
Having a surprise party thrown for a birthday falling just after a break up:
And friends from the west all transported within a few hours of each other to the east:
Knowing that, whether my heart is broken or swelling in love, people are there to prop me up when I physically cannot.
Being able to have a conversation with a friend just by a glance, being part of everyone rallying around a friend during addiction or abuse, or seeing a familiar face each time I step outside, this is what home is.
This year began with the loss of my grandmother. Such is life, but I would have given anything for life to have changed the rules in this one instance. Yet, how lucky I was when I came back to DC after the hardest goodbye, to find them:
There’s no way she would have let go if she hadn’t known I was in good hands.
So thank you, DC.
When I can’t be there
With them:
I am so glad to be here:
with you:
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