Leah, from New York City, is majoring in Mathematics and Chemistry with a minor in Bioinformatics at Hunter College. Leah began interning with Hunter Hillel shortly after October 7th, and her passion for working in the Jewish community continues to rise. She hopes to work at Hunter Hillel after she graduates from college. This upcoming year, Leah will be focusing on strengthening community engagement, planning events for incoming students, and growing the Russian Speaking Jews subgroup.

"Being selected for the Ellen B. Fuhr Scholarship means so much to me, not just as a student, but as a Jewish woman who finds deep joy in the community that comes with our shared identity. I cherish the connections, friendships, and sense of belonging that Judaism brings.”

When I was a freshman at Hunter, I was told that making friends would be the toughest challenge. After meeting our Hillel’s assistant director for coffee, I was invited to the semester’s first Not-Shabbat Shabbat. That day, I arrived earlier than I was supposed to, with nerves through the roof, hoping to help with the event setup.

Within seconds of walking through the door, I was put to work with room decorations along with a handful of other students. It took less than 5 minutes for my nerves to dissolve as we laughed through awkward introductions and collaborated on table settings. The entire evening surprised me better than I could have ever imagined; I walked in alone and left feeling connected to nearly every student in the room.

When I was interviewing to be a student leader at Hunter Hillel the following year, I emphasized the joy I felt during Not Shabbat Shabbat, and how hopeful I was to foster the same welcoming environment if I were to be the new Shabbat Intern. For the first-ever Not-Shabbat Shabbat I planned, I was determined to recreate the same impact as I had previously experienced as an incoming freshman. I worked with the previous Shabbat Intern to get the hang of the new job, and the four weeks of event planning flew by in what felt like minutes. Suddenly, it was showtime. While setting up that evening, I was transported back to my freshman self, anxious and tense, my mind racing through worst-case scenarios like a highlight reel of potential disasters. Before I knew it, I was sitting at a table, deep in conversation with a group of new students, thoroughly enjoying myself.

In the days and weeks that followed, students would spot me in the lounge and go out of their way to chat, complimenting the event's success and thanking me for creating that warm space where freshmen felt instantly at home. Those spontaneous thank-yous meant everything to me, and the memories I made that night will forever stick with me. I didn’t come to understand until months later that I had not only invited numerous freshmen to feel safe and comfortable in the lounge, but also a large group of sophomores and juniors, who had never previously felt inclined to attend Hillel events. It felt like the greatest praise to be told that I had changed the minds of multiple students regarding their beliefs on Hillel. It wasn't until months later that I truly understood the effects of that evening. Beyond creating a safe haven for nervous freshmen, I'd somehow managed to draw in sophomores and juniors who had previously written off Hillel events entirely. Having existing students tell me I'd completely transformed their perception of Hillel? It felt like the highest form of praise, as though I had won the community-building gold medal—validation I hadn’t even known I was seeking.

The moment you step into Hunter Hillel's lounge, whether you’re a returning or new student, you’ll be greeted by Katie's never-fading smile. As a Springboard Fellow at Hunter Hillel, Katie arrived with a mission to build vibrant, inclusive Jewish communities, but what she's built goes far beyond that. She hasn't just fulfilled her job description; she's redefined what the Hillel lounge can be for students like me. Her leadership style is as warm as it is effective. Since she started at Hillel last fall semester, the entire atmosphere has shifted since joining the lounge in her freshman year — the lounge has grown into a space filled with energy, creativity, and genuine Jewish joy. Where once there might have been quiet study sessions and chatter over Thursday bagel brunches, now there’s boisterous laughter and frequent creative community-building events. It’s clear that her approach isn't just about planning fun events; it's about creating long-lasting memories and experiences that make everyone feel valued.

I've witnessed firsthand how Katie transforms everyday moments into opportunities for connection. When I've been overwhelmed with exams, familial struggles, or relationship troubles, she's been there with an offer to chat over coffee and a presence that somehow makes everything feel a little lighter. Her figurative ‘door’ is always open, not just for program planning or mentorship but for genuine support, something that’s rare in a commuter college with an often impersonal environment.

One of my favorite of Katie's ideas is Magen David Monday, a concept she created to enter each week with Jewish pride. What’s usually just another dreary start to the week has become a community tradition where students proudly wear their Magen David or Hamsa jewelry, taking photos that often get featured on Hillel International's platform. Katie’s passion for sharing Jewish joy is pretty contagious, making it easy to connect with everyone entering Hillel's doors. Whether greeting nervous freshmen or curious senior auditors, she welcomes each person with such warmth that strangers quickly become friends, instantly feeling at home.

Growing up Orthodox, I had a rigid view of Judaism. Katie, among other staff members and peers, has expanded my perspective, showing me that Jewish joy can take countless forms while still remaining authentic and meaningful. Through her guidance, I've experienced traditions in ways that honor the rich diversity of Jewish life.

Katie’s confidence has transformed my approach to community building. Where I once hesitated to engage newcomers, I now find myself echoing her openness, connecting with people from all backgrounds with self-assurance. She’s shown me that true leadership isn't just about organizing activities but about creating spaces where others can thrive. More than any specific program or event, her greatest contribution to Hunter Hillel has been showing us how to inspire Jewish pride through genuine connection—a lesson in compassionate leadership for which I'm forever grateful.

My most vivid moment of Jewish pride came quite unexpectedly during a visit to the world's only ethnology museum dedicated to Bukharian Jews during my freshman year of college. The trip, organized by the Russian Speaking Jews group of Hunter Hillel, offered me a rare opportunity to connect with my family's cultural heritage in ways I couldn’t predict.

Walking through the collection curated by Aaron Aronov, an elderly gentleman who has dedicated his later years to collecting and preserving Bukharian Jewish artifacts, I was overwhelmed by the richness of a history I'd barely known. The small museum housed everything from intricately handmade rugs—which are also displayed in my own home—to a traditional outdoor tandoor oven for baking bread. Despite growing up deeply connected to my cultural background, I was taken aback by the extensive collection of artifacts tracing our people's journey from Persia, dating back to the Babylonian exile.

Despite the fact that Bukharian Jews represent one of Central Asia's oldest ethno-religious groups, our population remains small, with New York being home to about 100,000 individuals. Many historical treasures were left behind when families fled persecution in Uzbekistan for the Americas. Touring the different booths of rescued artifacts, I felt unparalleled pride in my dual identity as both Jewish and Bukharian—a feeling I hadn't previously experienced.

This event was only magnified when I shared it with my fellow Hunter peers on the trip. Our group included mostly non-Jewish history majors, creating an unexpected opportunity for cultural and religious exchange. As I explained, holidays and daily traditions—especially during our visit to a nearby kosher restaurant—I felt a deep sense of joy in these conversations. Having attended a small public school with a minuscule Jewish population, I often hesitated to share my religious background when meeting new people. But rather than feeling exposed or different, I found myself embracing my identity with pride, realizing that Judaism wasn’t just something personal to protect, but a prolific heritage worth sharing.

Since that museum visit, I've approached my religious background with newfound confidence. What once felt like a potential vulnerability has become a source of strength and opportunity for building connections. Now, rather than hiding aspects of my identity, I look forward to moments to share the beauty and complexity of being Jewish, particularly from my unique perspective of Bukharian traditions.