Rachel Eisen

Four years ago, I knew exactly what I wanted to do with my life. I was going to study history and get my teaching certification, after which I would be a high school teacher. Then I came to Vassar, and, well, that didn't exactly work out. The plan has changed so many times. But somehow, never once did I panic. Not when I dropped my certification plan. Not even when I dropped my Education correlate altogether and changed my correlate in Jewish Studies into a second major…at the end of my junior year.

Four years ago, I would never have considered a career in faith-based community youth education. You're probably asking yourself what that even is. Compared to the careers I've heard other Vassar students say they want to have, it doesn't actually seem that strange. But when I tell non-Vassar people that I want to create alternative, informal communities of Jewish teenagers who want to engage their spirituality in new, creative and socially-aware ways outside of the congregational system, I get sympathetic nods. You know, the kind where the person is trying to look supportive, but what she's actually thinking is, "Sure, Rachel. You're a do-gooder, I get it." Certainly, my 18-year-old self would have thought this is crazy. But can you actually get a job doing that? Teaching is hard work, but it's a real job! The structure already exists!

Four years ago, I would never have imagined myself as president of one of the largest student organizations on campus, the Vassar Jewish Union (VJU). I was too shy, too unsure, too lacking in confidence. One moment changed all that, when I decided that I wanted to run for a position on the board of the VJU. I actually lost that election to someone who would later become one of my best friends. But that did not stop me from becoming an unofficial board member, showing up to the open board meetings and helping out with events. Just a year into my Vassar education, I was surprised to find that I had the guts to do that. But lo and behold, here I am, an integral part of a community I hold so dear. I've held several positions over the years with many organizations, including The Black Hat, Vassar's magazine of Jewish culture, and Iced Brew, Vassar's synchronized skating team. All these organizations and positions have meant something special to me, but they wouldn't have happened if I had not decided to step outside my comfort zone that elections day and put myself out there and say, "My name is Rachel Eisen, and I want to be a leader."

There's an incident that stands out in my mind from my first week at Vassar. I'm a figure skater, and I had gone to McCann Ice Arena at the Civic Center to practice and take my first lesson with the new coach I had found here. Happy and exhausted, I got in my car and started to drive back to Vassar, when I realized I didn't exactly remember how to get back. The haze of orientation activities had rendered my usually astute memory and excellent sense of direction useless. I picked a road I thought looked familiar and suddenly found myself driving up Route 9 North, away from campus. I panicked, but only for split second. Then, I decided that everything was going to be just fine, got off at the next exit and miraculously made my way home. Looking back on that incident, it almost seems like a foretelling of how Vassar was going to change me.

Four years ago, getting lost in a new place with no one to call who could give me directions would have unraveled me. But I've gotten lost a lot at Vassar. Professionally. Academically. Personally. But instead of panicking, I've learned to enjoy exploration. I've learned to relish new experiences and I've pushed myself outside my comfort zone more often. Four years ago, I was smart and thoughtful, open-minded and dedicated. But today, I'm also brave and adventurous, more critical and ambitious. And I have no doubt that it was my experiences at Vassar, both inside the classroom and out, that pushed me to discover that side of myself.

—Rachel Eisen is the outgoing president of the Vassar Jewish Union.