OyChicago blog

I've learned a great deal since graduating from Indiana University about 10 months ago. Sometimes, I find it hard to even believe that I was in college at this time last year. Trading textbooks for timesheets and "Two-Dollar Tuesday" for networking and fundraisers has provided me with a different perspective.

Here are three things I wish I had known before the band cued-up "Pomp and Circumstance."

Work ethic trumps all

As with most college seniors, I spent an incredible amount of time preparing for my future career. I took classes that would set me apart, attended networking events, traveled for informational interviews and even adjusted my wardrobe to look more professional. Although this helped, I've learned that maintaining a strong work ethic is paramount.

Who you know or previous experience may get your foot in the door, but work ethic is the staying force. It's not that the importance of a strong work ethic never occurred to me, but I undervalued the fact that it can propel your entire career.

We get so caught up in trying to control everything from paychecks to the merits of a graduate degree that it is easy to forget the value of showing up and approaching each day and each task with maximum effort. That is the best way to both stand out and make a positive impact.

A work-life balance is challenging, but important

Weekly happy hours and no homework were among the many things I eagerly anticipated during the transition from school to the working world. However, I quickly learned that achieving a work-life balance is not as easy as it sounds.

There are still opportunities to spend time with friends, visit family or catch the big game, but I oftentimes find myself fixated on work. From catching up on email to making myself available to clients or just discussing new and exciting experiences, work simply takes precedence. Perhaps my age and desire to earn the respect of my colleagues could explain my ambition, or maybe I just haven't learned how to keep these two things separated.

I love work, but also realize the importance of maintaining a balance. The ability to step back and take a deep breath is a key to staying sharp, keeping focus and ultimately continuing to learn and grow.

Keeping in touch is difficult

As I packed my car and headed home from school for the last time, I wondered how often I would talk with my best friends who weren't moving to Chicago. Perhaps we would connect daily or at least a few times per week? We would definitely keep our text and chat group right? It started off frequently, but as we all settled into new jobs or law school seminars, hours fell into days and days into weeks.

We all make time every so often, but it's just not as easy as we thought. Free time is hard to come by and daily conversations are the unfortunate casualty. This doesn't take anything away from the relationships forged and the bonds built, but it's simply difficult for communication to remain consistent.

While I wish I had known all this before graduating, the most impactful lessons are oftentimes learned through real-life experience, and I wouldn't trade the experience of the last 10 months for anything.

I'm 28 years old, going on 29. Right after that (a year, not immediately), I turn the big 29 plus 1. Quite the milestone -- though if we were in any other country, it would be quite the kilometerstone.

So time is of the essence! That essence being "Eau de Adam Needs to Do More Stuff Before 30." Since I have a little over a year until that decade-shifting age, I have decided to compile a list of 30 things I will (key word being "will") do before I complete another decade on this planet we call Mars' Neighbor. I'm a dork.

So here are 30 things I will do before I turn 30!

1. Turn 31. Gonna be tough to do this one, but I think with determination and perseverance I got it.

2. Fire a gun. I work with this jerk who happens to be a gun and I think it's about time I let him go.

3. Stop using the phrase, "All things considered." Most of the time, only some things are considered.

4. Lose a few pounds. A trip to England might help with that.

5. Run a half marathon. So a mara. Or a thon.

6. Go skydiving. Preferably in the shallow end.

7. Learn how to play an instrument. Maybe the kazoo.

8. Go skinny-dipping. Hmmmm, first I'm going to have to get skinny. So in the meantime, I'll go husky dipping.

9. Splurge on a once-in-a-lifetime meal at one of the world's best restaurants. Obviously Rainforest Café.

10. Sing karaoke. Specifically the song, "Tequila," because I know all the lyrics.

11. Travel somewhere new and different all by myself. I'm thinking of trying the grocery store.

12. Eat something exotic that seems disgusting. Perhaps gluten-free pizza.

13. Learn to speak a new language. This one will be tough since most languages are invented already and I'll have to discover a new one.

14. Travel somewhere truly exotic. Somewhere that feels like the end of the earth. So, I don't know, maybe Detroit?

15. Splurge on something I can't really afford, but that will last for years. I've really wanted an antique 6-foot hour glass that takes four and half years for each turn.

16. Try taking a class that is completely out of my element. Therefore nothing carbon-based.

17. Cross at least one item off my bucket list. Like actually buying a bucket.

18. Visit more states. I hear "confusion" can be a bit disorientating but worth the trip.

19. Start a 401k. Although I haven't even participated in a 5k.

20. Learn how to fly. A plane, a kite, whatever is easiest. I have no idea.

21. Visit the Great Wall of China. If that doesn't work out, visit The Pretty Good Wall of Evanston.

22. Travel to a remote desert island. Then travel to a TV desert island.

23. Watch a meteor shower. I don't care if astronomers view me as a peeping Tom.

24. Go to a cemetery and start bawling at the grave of someone I don't know. Then I'll belt out, "WHY!!!!???? WHY AM I CRYING AT THE GRAVE OF SOMEONE I DON'T KNOW!????"

25. Try something that terrifies me. Like picking up a phone call from a number I don't recognize.

26. Attend a major sports event. Whether it's the Super Bowl, the Stanley Cup Finals or a Cubs win. (This joke was funnier a few years ago.)

27. Make my bed. Into what you ask? Well I could make a broach. A hat. A pterodactyl!

28. Stop trying to be ahead of the game. I'm tired of being chased by the game.

29. Learn to count to 30.

One of my odd jobs in rabbinical school was working to build an alumni database for a national day school association. I was tasked with creating two events, one in Chicago and one in New York, to bring together alumni from its different branches and build brand awareness. Immediately, I went to a few friends of mine who had a band and asked if, as alumni, they'd headline a concert. The leader of the band looked at me and said, "I am not an alumnus. You cannot graduate from camp, youth groups, and clubs."

I was not there to argue semantics. Maybe he was right, but he was not correcting the wording so much as informing me that he had no attachment to the Jewish organizations that added value to his upbringing. This person has 15 friends who are inseparable, some of the closest-knit Jewish friends I had ever met, and their bond directly stemmed from attending summer camp and day school. How could he not credit the contributions of these organizations that clearly influenced his Jewish upbringing?

In general, I have been surprised to find out how many of my camp friends have not visited camp since their final days as campers or on staff, or how many day-schoolers are reluctant to credit their success to their day school education. The solution is twofold: Organizations need to connect to the individual's lifelong journey and individuals need to recognize the outlets organizations offer that do not involve spending a summer at camp or going on a free 10-day Israel trip.

I might be an exception to the rule. The nature of my work as rabbi automatically keeps me connected to my summer camps, youth groups, day schools and other pivotal Jewish organizations from my youth. As a leader of a non-profit, I recognize that once we stop attending these camps, youth groups, and schools, our affiliation begins to dwindle because we no longer need them in our lives.

So for these Jewish organizations, whose resources are stretched and sparse, it is difficult to invest in these "alumni," these non-dues-paying individuals whose careers and places of residence are in flux. Synagogues, for example, work daily to procure young professionals, but we acknowledge that most people return to synagogue when they have children.

I recently heard the paradigm "our personal organizations (i.e. camp, Hillel, etc.) are our stocks." People are always interacting with their stocks, tinkering with the finances and engaging with them. Federations -- and Chicago is lucky to have one like JUF, which supports such a vibrant Jewish community by promoting a variety of religious and cultural Jewish experiences -- are our mutual fund. They remain steady, a safety net in case our smaller organizations falter. They ensure we are able to have robust Jewish options, a voice in the larger world and ultimately, they provide care for the Jewish organizations and experiences to which we hold a deep emotional attachment.

For individuals with an emotional investment in a Jewish program or organization, today's landscape can be overwhelming. All Jewish organizations are starving for resources, so they're asking for an investment or your reinvestment. They are understaffed and competing with one another. It is often healthy competition, but they must meet budget, inspire participation and constantly rebuild numbers to maintain the services that they provide. To continue to provide the same or better opportunities that years and even generations of Jews were able to benefit from, organizations rely on their "alumni" to help support the future. Way back when, they needed you to participate or sign up, but the truth is that they need you just as much now, when you are not directly benefitting from your investment.

While Jewish youth organizations might cut off at a certain age, our connection to them does not have to. A counselor of mine once said to me that Jewish summer camp was not intended to be Jewish education for the campers, but rather for the staff members. With that in mind, how can we reimagine the continual benefits we gain by interacting with these organizations? And how can we optimize that long-ago investment?

An organization's board members are often chosen because of the "three Ws:" work, wisdom and wealth. I would say this holds true for what Jewish organizations need from their alumni. Of course they need people to write checks to ensure the lights stay on, staff is paid and families can feasibly afford programs. But all organizations need a healthy volunteer base and fresh perspective to create new ideas and meet unmet needs. So if you cannot open your pocketbook to provide the wealth, try to become the work or wisdom that your Jewish organization needs.

The highlight of my rabbinic career thus far -- outside of meeting Mel Brooks -- was at a Jewish camp where I met a young boy named Charlie who I had helped convince to go to camp that summer. When I first saw Charlie at camp, he spewed out the activities he was doing, Judaism he was experiencing, and how it was the best decision of his life. I walked away almost ready to retire -- what could possibly top seeing another child so happily Jewish? If you ever loved your camp, school or Hillel as much as Charlie, it's your obligation to never end that relationship, just as much as it's the organizations obligation to offer pathways that allow us to never stop engaging.

I take deep pride in my position as a board member of a Hillel. I have seen remarkable change happen during this time. I hope others can find ways of engaging with the programs and organizations that impacted them, or work to create new avenues to express their Judaism that perhaps they wished existed when they were younger. If you found friends, meaning, value, or even a sense of belonging in your Jewish "alma maters" it is important to invest in your past in order for these organizations to have a future.

My spiritual home doesn't actually have a home. It meets in my living room, or an apartment building party room, or an art gallery. On the third Friday of the month, the room is filled with the sounds of harmonized singing, the smells of homemade goodies, and the images of people making new friends. At the end of the night, I come home feeling energized. It's a minyan night.

I am so proud to be celebrating the fifth anniversary of Windy City Minyan, an independent minyan for young adults in the Lakeview area.

After I graduated college, some friends and I attended an intergenerational independent minyan in the Lakeview area for a few years. We loved this monthly tradition, but the minyan suddenly stopped meeting. I emailed the minyan's organizer to say I was sorry the minyan hadn't been meeting. He responded by asking me to take it over.

It wasn't the answer I had expected, but I gathered some friends and we decided instead of reviving the old minyan, we'd start something new. At that time, very little existed for young adults on Shabbat (now, of course, there are many options!), so we decided to focus our minyan on that population. After debating between names like Chi-town Minyan, Second City Minyan, and Deep Dish Minyan, we settled on Windy City Minyan.

Windy City Minyan held its first Shabbat service five years ago, on April 22, 2011, at my apartment. We spread the word to our friends and were so excited to see friends of friends and people we did not yet know.

We are so proud of what this minyan has become. Each month, we get between 30 and 80 participants, many of whom are new to Chicago and use this as an opportunity to meet new people. We see people who grew up in all streams of Judaism, as well as some new to the religion.

As an independent minyan, we don't follow a specific movement of Judaism, but we define ourselves as egalitarian and we use the Conservative movement's prayer book. But being independent gives us flexibility: For example, we made a decision that we will face east (towards Jerusalem) in spaces that make sense to do so; but if east is the entrance to the apartment, we face the opposite way so as not to make latecomers uncomfortable, citing the verse of Talmud that warns against embarrassing people. We aim to be as welcoming as possible, including a greeter and a "welcome" sign at the door.

Our service leaders are our community members, and we encourage as much participation as possible by inviting people to lead Kabbalat Shabbat, Ma'ariv, and Kiddush, and also give a D'var Torah and share what Shabbat means to them (what I informally refer to as our "Shabbat Nugget"). Some are seasoned leaders and others use this welcoming group as an opportunity to learn to lead a service for the first time. All are appreciated.

We meet in apartment buildings and party rooms, and once we even met in an art gallery. Like traveling salesmen, we have a suitcase full of supplies like prayer books, painters tape for signs, door stops, garbage bags, and paper goods so that hosts merely need to let us in and we'll take care of the rest.

Following the service, we always have an oneg (reception) with appetizers and snacks -- many of us on the committee use this as an opportunity to refine our baking skills -- and twice a year we hold a potluck dinner.

Prayer doesn't always speak to me, but at Windy City Minyan, I find myself getting lost in the melodies, being completely present, thinking about the power of our voices coming together as this nomadic community. This minyan has taught me more than I ever thought I'd know about marketing, social media, room rental contracts, acoustics, Shabbat worship melodies, other Jewish organizations, apartment layouts, and logistics. I have made so many friendships and have had the opportunity to meet a lot of interesting people.

Thank you to everyone who has participated in this minyan over the last five years. I'm excited to watch it continue to grow.

Please join me in wishing Windy City Minyan a happy "minyan-niversary," and come celebrate with us at 7 p.m. on Friday, April 15 near Belmont and Lake Shore Drive for Friday night services -- and for the first time ever, a Havdalah service at 7 p.m. Saturday, April 16 near Roscoe and Sheffield. Visit us at windycityminyan.com or find us on Facebook for the exact address and more information.

Shabbat Shalom … the next Windy City Minyan is never more than a month away!