Two years ago, I was asked if I considered myself a leader. I lied, and said no. I felt obligated to- I thought I could not be a “real” leader if I was not a good public speaker. And I was by no means a good public speaker. My voice wavers with amazing persistence, and I inevitably left any podium or stage with tears threatening to spill onto my already bright red cheeks. My fear of that waver, that admission of weakness, quickly turned into a phobia of public speaking. For years, I would lie up at night dreading an in-class debate the next day, or bring myself to tears with nervous anticipation of having to present a gift at a bar or bat mitzvah. I told no one except a hebrew school teacher, and he was quick to tell me it was nothing more than a phase. I would have bet a million dollars he was wrong, that this was my cross to bear for the rest of my life.

But then I would be out of a million dollars. Somehow, slowly but surely, I did get over my phobia of public speaking. It took me from January of eighth grade to May 10, 2015, my second-to-last month of Junior year, to become a “real” leader. I ended this crazy, horrible, unforgettable journey at New England USY’s Spring Convention. I was running for the position of regional Israel Affairs and Programming Vice President, and I wanted to cry. In fact, I did cry. But then, I got up on the dais, looked out at a crowd of 300 of my best friends, peers, and mentors, and gave a speech. It was only two minutes and 56 seconds long, 552 words, but it did not matter. It was a speech, and I gave it. I stood at a podium, made eye contact with people in the room, stumbled over a word or two, but ultimately ended the speech with a todah rabah (thank you) and a smile. My voice did not waiver, people did not see me cry (until after I was announced as winner), and I became a “real” leader. Eighth grade Ruth, the Ruth who cried when she found out she would have to read a poem to a class of 21 students, packed up and left and I don’t plan on inviting her back any time soon.

This journey, this tear-filled, panic-inducing journey, starts and ends with USY. In January of 2012, I was asked by Shayna Rubenstein- president of Lexington USY and my idol at the time- to read Torah at USY Shabbat. I reluctantly accepted the honor, and after weeks of practicing I stood in front of the congregation and humiliated myself for everything I was worth. Fast forward three and a half years to May 2015, and Shayna Rubenstein- now in college and still the coolest person I know- was sitting in the audience as I gave my speech at USY Spring Convention. United Synagogue Youth, the youth group for conservative Jews in high school throughout North America, has made me into the leader I am today. It first made me weary of public speaking and terrified of striving for leadership positions that would involve talking in front of hundreds of people. But it also led me straight to those positions. Regardless of my fears, I was inspired and pressured into being a vice president in my chapter for two years, then a president of Lexington USY, and now a vice president of my entire region. But more than just give me titles, USY gave me a support system to achieve those titles. It gave me role models, made me a better friend, a stronger leader, and a more knowledgeable Jew. It has forced me to grow into myself, someone I’m pretty proud of being. So thank you USY, and thank you eighth grade Ruth. I won’t miss you.