By Talia Isaacs, Business Editor
When I was a kid, I promised myself I would never end up at Yeshiva University. YU was for basic yeshiva league kids, and I was anything but. I was different. I was the original “not like other girls” girl, and I wanted to prove it through my choice of school for higher education.
Throughout high school, attending a secular college remained imperative for me, and this goal was solidified due to my limited exposure to what I like to call “The Real World.” I was desperate to break out of the “Jewish Bubble” and experience what I described as “real culture” from “real people.” I had met very few like-minded people during my time in yeshiva day schools, and I was eager to make friends I could relate to.
So it was decided, I would attend John Jay College of Criminal Justice, with Montclair University and Fairleigh Dickinson University as backup plans, and YU and Touro as backup backup plans. Basically, I would do anything to avoid having to attend yet another close-minded, homogenous yeshiva.
However, as my senior year progressed, I began to enjoy my Jewish studies classes more and more, and on a deeper, more emotional level. I also realized that I had grown to love all the people I’d met inside the “Jewish Bubble,” and that maybe hanging around inside of it every now and again wasn’t so bad. I grappled with these internal conflicts, but remained convinced that a secular college was best for me – it’s what I’d wanted since I was a little girl, so why should that change now?
As the weeks went by, the questions continued to nag at me: Was I really going to be kovei’ah itim la’Torah (setting aside time for Torah learning) in secular college? Would I lose all the skills I’d worked so hard to gain in high school? Would I forget how to read Rashi letters or dissect a Ramban? Was I willing to give that all up in the interest of meeting people I felt were more “cultured” or like-minded?
All of this came to a head when a representative from YU came to present at my high school, and I was absolutely convinced – I had to go. Somehow, it seemed like the perfect school for me, even after years of assuming it was unquestionably wrong for me. With the small student-to-teacher ratio, the abundance of clubs and extracurriculars and the promise that the student body was composed of all different types of girls, I was ready to sign on the dotted line.
I could no longer deny that I wanted to be learning Torah every day, or that I wanted the peer pressure at my school to consist of going to shiurim and dressing modestly instead of attending frat parties.
I decided that I didn’t care that maybe it was basic, or that everyone else did it. I wanted to go to YU, and more specifically, I wanted to go to the YU Honors Program and apply early decision.
I rushed into my guidance counselor’s office in a panic, unsure if I had missed the deadline or if I even qualified to apply. It turned out the deadline was in one week, but my SAT score was below the threshold needed to meet the Honors program requirements – so much so that my guidance counselor recommended I not apply at all. Beyond that, the financial, social and cultural concerns still remained: How could I explain to my parents that instead of going to a state school where the yearly tuition would be half of what they’d paid for my yeshiva high school, I wanted to go to YU, where the yearly tuition was nearly double what they paid for my high school? Would they offer classes that prepared me for my career? Would there be anyone there who understood and respected my differences?
My college guidance counselor, despite not believing I had a shot at the Honors program, reassured me that YU had everything I was looking for: the classes, the girls and the Torah environment.
By some miracle, I got accepted early decision into the honors program, despite the low SAT score. Now, after being here for nearly two years, I can confirm that I am almost certain that YU was the right school for me, even with all of my complaints and proposed reforms (which you know are many if you’ve read anything I’ve written for the YU Observer).
At YU, I have found both my place and my people. I’ve met those like-minded peers I never had in high school – people I thought didn’t even exist – and found an abundance of diversity and variation within the student body, all while remaining in a Jewish environment. I am so blessed I get to learn Torah at an advanced level and am not pressured to compromise on any of my religious practices. Even with all of its flaws, which we know are many, YU has proven to be the place for me, and I am so glad I ended up here.
If you told eleventh-grade Tali that she would attend YU and take the shidduch shuttle just like all the other girls, she would have laughed in your face and told you that you must have the wrong Tali. And yet here I am, hardly able to imagine myself anywhere else.
It’s funny how sometimes the last thing you wanted for yourself ends up being exactly what you needed.