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  • More Than Just Ourselves: Who Is Affected by Our Actions and Attire?

    After what was perhaps the most intense school week since I started going back over two years ago, I finally got around to complete another blog post. Moving forward, I think I’ll strive for one blog post per week, as it’s a more realistic target and lets me spend more time on the quality of my writing. Either way, I’m back in action, and I hope you enjoy.

    By the time I sat down to build on my brainstorming notes, it was right after Tisha B’Av. Though I’ve wanted to write about this for a while, I think the timing is quite apropos—not because the subject directly relates to Tisha B’Av, but because, as many of us know, the primary reason given for the destruction of both Temples (and many of our people’s hardships) was baseless hatred. This is my attempt to sound the alarm and work toward eliminating baseless hatred, a difficult task though it may be, in all of the groups we find ourselves a part of.

    Much of baseless hatred, as I have observed, on the part of the “hater” stems from associations made between either how a negative encounter with one or more individuals of a group, or rumors/conspiracies about that group, and how people present themselves. Immutable features like facial characteristics and skin tone are often enough for the hater’s juices to get flowing, but stylistic choices like dress or hairstyle can spark ire given the aforementioned reasons as well (negative associations between how people dress and negative encounters with/or buying into conspiratorial narratives about said group). In this post I discuss the importance of recognizing the implications of how we present ourselves, while simultaneously encouraging others to withhold judgment until behavior and actions tell the true story. If we maintain self-awareness and defy negative stereotypes about ourselves and others as best we can, we can begin the journey to reducing, and maybe eliminating, baseless hatred. Don’t mistake this for encouraging provocative dress or behavior; I’m referring to attire and conduct that, at baseline, meet the standard for what’s axiomatically appropriate in polite society.

    Back in my wayward adolescence, filled with anti-religious sentiment, pot smoke, and heavy metal, my family would frequently remind me that the way I acted and presented myself reflected not just on me but on the whole family. This sentiment infuriated me: why should my lifestyle represent anyone but myself? Similarly, I didn’t think it was fair to suggest that my family’s lifestyle and actions represented me. As long as I wasn’t physically harming anyone, I thought, we should all just live and let live (though, in hindsight, I realize I created circumstances with potential harm to myself and others). Over time, I came to understand that how we act and present ourselves really does have implications beyond ourselves. In my beloved Orthodox Jewish community, these lessons are especially relevant.

    I was raised modern-Orthodox, but when I got deeply involved with my band, I mistakenly concluded that to be a successful musician, I’d need to abandon everything religious. So, I left Orthodox Judaism for about eight years. Life-changing experiences during that period led me back, and I began learning Torah with a Rabbi I’m still friendly with today. I quickly found myself drawn into the world of “yeshivishe” black hats and suits. One day, the Rabbi tried to teach me a lesson, echoing the iconic Spider-Man line: “With great power comes great responsibility.” He didn’t say it exactly like Uncle Ben, however, the lesson was the same. Wearing a black hat and jacket isn’t just about personal piety or style; it signals to others that you represent an ideal—fair or not, you’re a visible exemplar.

    At the time, this frustrated me, much as it had in my younger years from the other side of the fence. Why should my actions as a black hatter affect anyone else? After all, I wore the attire for myself. Is it fair that a kid in a black hat in Far Rockaway, a Modern Orthodox real estate developer in the Five Towns, or even an ethnically Jewish atheist, could all be affected by how I’m dressed? Out of respect for the Rabbi, I didn’t push back, but I didn’t remotely internalize his message until reality caught up years later.

    I wore a black hat during the week for about ten months and on Shabbat for roughly five years. Eventually, I took a liking to a “blue-collar,” “country” style and switched to caps and flannels during the week, keeping the black hat exclusively for Shabbat. About six months into my marriage, I caught the person who’d been throwing bread on my driveway—attracting birds that left gifts on my car. Frustrated, I confronted him in a way that was abhorrent. Without skipping a beat, the man pointed at my tzitzit and asked how someone could wear them and behave so inappropriately. In that moment my Rabbi’s lesson truly clicked for me. The man didn’t mention my “redneck” getup—just the outward sign of my faith. Maybe he was a secular Jew, and I turned him off from religion entirely. Maybe he was a non-Jewish employer who later rejected an Orthodox candidate because of me. Whether it’s a streimel and bekeshe or a Star of David, when we broadcast our Jewish identities, we have a responsibility to make a kiddush Hashem to everyone. And certainly not to absolve myself, chas v’shalom, as I have made a chillul Hashem more times than I can count, however, consider: if someone who looks like a lumberjack is judged merely by the presence of tzitzit, how much greater the responsibility for those who look even more overtly religious?

    This goes both ways. Some of my best interactions during my nearly atheistic years were with Jews dressed overtly Orthodox. Those encounters had a lasting impact on me, as there were many times where I thought I had reason to swear off organized religion for good, even as I started coming to conclusions about the existence of a higher power. But the people who made a real kiddush Hashem reminded me that while appearance carries implications, we must treat everyone as a unique individual. These people could have viewed me as not worth their time, making assumptions based on my actions and presentation, but instead saw me as made in the image and likeness of Hashem.

    The message is universal. We represent our families, communities, schools, political affiliations, jobs, and more. Wear a sports jersey or drive a pickup truck and assumptions—negative and positive—will follow. Why give credence to negative assumptions? Our duty is to defy the negatives and strive to live up to, and beyond, the positives. Furthermore, we see others who “look” a certain way, we should be mindful of our biases—positive or negative—and let actions and words reveal their true character.

    I only wish I’d internalized this lesson earlier: how we act and present ourselves matters—not just for us, but for all the groups we represent. I want to be clear: I’m not suggesting anyone give up attire that makes them comfortable. I’m emphasizing self-awareness and awareness of others. Be mindful of your biases and those connected to any group you belong to. Remember, we’re all created in the likeness and image of Hashem. So, everyone—whether they wear jeans and a t-shirt, or a black hat and kapattah—deserves respect as a distinct being. This article isn’t meant to suggest I take issue with how anyone dresses (again, within the confines of what is axiomatically appropriate). Rather, it’s a reminder of the responsibility we bear, day in and day out, to so many.

  • Dream Big: Act Smart

    Hey there, Long Island Yid here—here’s something I wish I’d known when I was younger: chasing big dreams—like becoming a rockstar, actor, state senator, or opening your own restaurant—is awesome, but you’ve got to anchor those dreams with skills and credentials. Not to hinder your drive, but to keep you from starting at square one if life pivots or your heart shifts to a new path. In this blog post, I hope to show you why this matters, especially for teens and young adults, though it is applicable to anyone of any age.

    When someone shares their dream of “making it big,” like becoming a famous actor or musician, I’ve heard two typical responses over the years: a) the all-in, go-getting, stop-at-nothing mindset that views anything outside of the pursuit itself as a distraction, and b) the naysayers, skeptics, and Negative Nancies who think becoming anything other than a doctor or a lawyer is a waste of time. I’m here to make the case for a third option: c) pursuing your dream with pragmatism and prudence. What do I mean? It’s okay to dream big—I haven’t stopped dreaming big since I wanted to be a professional duelist from the hit show and card game Yu-Gi-Oh! at age eight. But it’s equally important to chase those dreams in a way that allows for smooth adaptation should the path shift. Maybe you realize your dream isn’t physically attainable (like not being good enough at Duel Monsters to become a pro), or it no longer aligns with your aims and upward aspirations at any particular point in time. To explain, I’ll share some personal and anecdotal experiences—including opportunities I missed due to my unbridled ambitions.

    I didn’t try in school. I couldn’t be bothered. Starting in high school, the only things that mattered were the punk and metal bands I was involved with. Caving to my family and friends’ insistence, I enrolled in community college three times—and dropped out three times. As I wrote in a previous post, I worked in food service for five years, then retail for a couple more, passing through like a tumbleweed, focused solely on music. I refused to learn skills beyond the bare minimum, whether in food service, the music industry, or anything else, seeing it as beneath an aspiring rockstar. That was a tremendous mistake.

    By the time I started at SAE Institute Miami in 2019, I was no longer involved in my old musical projects. My plan was to learn audio production, produce my own music, and make money doing it for others. One day, it hit me: I’d spent thousands on recordings, mixing, and mastering for my bands over the years. If I’d gone to SAE earlier, during my punk and metal days, I could’ve saved that cash and profited by bringing others’ musical visions to life. When COVID hit halfway through my time at SAE, the uncertainty in the air depressed me. I went months without touching a guitar or singing—the longest break in nine years. I ultimately finished my certificate, even winning the top post-production project, which boosted my confidence greatly. But jobs paying enough for rent and groceries were scarce at the time, so I moved back to New York for a completely different gig.

    In my first post, I mentioned seeing an old SAE classmate thriving as an auto mechanic while I was getting my car checked before driving from South Florida to Queens. I’d already been contemplating other career options, like teaching or nursing, and seeing him was the icing on the cake. I came to realize that music, while beautiful and powerful, wasn’t the dream I once thought it was for me. Years prior, I’d dreamed of becoming a mental health professional, but I’d banished that idea to the darkest corridor of my mind after years of poor academic performances. It wasn’t until later, with the help of my then-fiancée, that I realized my true calling.

    I’ve written about the importance of skilled trades and their impact on people’s lives—not to mention the alarming stat, often cited by Mike Rowe, that for every five tradesmen who retire, only two replace them (Rowe, 2025). This includes not just plumbers and welders but also police officers and firefighters. But blue-collar work isn’t for everyone, and that’s fine. If you want to be a big-shot politician, businessman, entertainer, or public intellectual, go for it! If your intentions are pure, I support you doubly. But tastes change, opinions change, and lives change. What you want at 17 might not be what you want at 27. I went back to college full-time at 28, I’m 30 now, and I probably won’t have a counseling license for a few more years. If I’d pursued something like SAE right out of high school, between the money I’d have saved and earned, I’d have been in a much better starting position than when I restarted college. I could’ve sustained myself, maybe built a business or capital, and transitioned careers fluidly if needed. Instead, I drifted from place to place, chasing a life of luxury like a heroin addict chasing that first high.

    The key is to arm yourself with skills and credentials that support your dream and provide a fallback if things change. I have a friend who was a security guard for years, miserable because he wanted to be a police officer instead. Rather than giving up after multiple failed attempts, he gained experience in a related field, studied, and learned from others. Now, he’s a court officer, living his dream. My former bandmate, the most talented guy in our group, is another example. He’s touring with a moderately successful band, but he isn’t just waiting for the band to “explode”. He learned to be an instrument technician and studio engineer, working with big-time names in music while pursuing his band for the love of it. Lastly, I know someone who landed a job with a billionaire because of an obscure credential that she thought was pointless at the time. That precautionary step became a career highlight. In each case, these folks went against the grain, ensuring their career paths were smoother than they would’ve been without those skills.

    This isn’t about playing it safe or crushing ambition. On the contrary, I’m challenging you to pursue your dreams smartly, saving yourself the stress I still feel to this very day. The Children of Israel wandered the desert for decades, never quite sure of the direction they were going in. As it says in Numbers 33:1-2, “These are the journeys of the children of Israel… according to their journeys at the bidding of Hashem.” They might’ve stayed in one place for any duration, long or short, only to be told to pack up and move at a moment’s notice. It’s a great picture of how our paths can change any second. Just when we feel comfortable—intellectually or otherwise—an epiphany might tell us it’s time to move on. We’re still heading to the promised land, but the route may need adjusting to get there in the most ideal fashion imaginable.

    By arming yourself with knowledge and skills—blue-collar, white-collar, or anything in between—you’re set for a smoother transition when life throws a curveball your way. Maybe you’re a teen dreaming of Hollywood or a young adult eyeing a political career. Awesome—go for it. Take a page from my bandmate: learn a skill that complements your goal, like video editing for acting or public speaking for politics. Or follow my SAE classmate’s lead and pick up a trade to keep you afloat, no matter the cultural climate. If your dream shifts or doesn’t pan out, those skills and credentials are your lifeline, ensuring you’re not left empty-handed.

    Here’s my call to action: reflect on your dream today. What’s one skill or credential you can start building now to support it? Maybe it’s learning a trade for steady work between jobs, audio engineering to save your band money and earn some, or studying policy for your upcoming senate run. Write it down, say it out loud, and take that first step. Life will throw changes at you—new passions, setbacks, or moments of clarity. Arm yourself with skills, and you’ll be ready to adapt, just like the Israelites trusted Hashem’s plan in the desert, ready to pack up and change course at a moment’s notice.

    Don’t forget to support our pilot event for Purpose & Skills Center: A Place to Find Meaning and Learn Craft by referring us to a tradesman/tradeswoman, mental health professional, or anyone who might be interested in joining our mission. You can also donate to our GoFundMe page, or simply share us around!

    GoFundMe: https://gofund.me/1548ccc9

    Facebook: @ LIYid & @ Purpose & Skills Center

    X: @ LongIslandYid & @ PurposeNSkills

    IG: @ PurposeNSkills

    References

    Rowe, M. (Host). (2025). The way I heard it [Audio podcast]. MRW Productions, LLC. https://mikerowe.com/podcast/

  • Gam Zu L’Tovah: A Reflection

    When life throws challenges our way, we often panic, lacking the ability to look into the future and see how whatever is troubling us, in the moment, is ultimately for the best. In a discussion about whether ends always justify the means, a great Rabbi I admire used the example of Joseph’s brothers selling him into slavery. The question was whether the eventual redemption from Egypt justified the brothers’ sale. The conclusion was that the sale was unjustified. Though it was Hashem’s will for the Jewish people to be redeemed, and Joseph’s sale kickstarted this process, it was merely the vehicle through which it happened. Had the brothers not sold Joseph, the redemption would have occurred via some other vehicle. Staying on the topic of Joseph and his brothers, it was Charlie Harary who asked the audience at an event I attended if they thought it was possible for Joseph to recognize during the many years of his suffering that his sale would ultimately lead to said redemption. Furthermore, he expounded on his point by sharing a fascinating, supposedly true story, about a Polish man who left his family to try and make some money in the United States to send back home. It was a tough decision, and his rabbi told him to be especially diligent in the principle of seeing the good in everything. After struggling initially to find work, he stumbled upon a furniture store where he proceeded to partner with the business owner to craft furniture. The Polish man didn’t speak much English, and around the time he was going to go back home to his family in Poland, he realized that his so-called “partner” had scammed him, taken all his money, and fled town. Devastated, the man could not go back and face his family with nothing. He decided to craft and sell his own furniture, which required him to obtain U.S. citizenship or a work visa (I’m not quite sure which). Another year went by, and with pockets full of money, the man returned to his family in Poland. Overjoyed by the prosperity, the family saw past the extension of their father’s journey. Shortly after coming back home, the Nazis rolled into Poland, and because of the citizenship or visa, the man was able to immigrate to the United States with his whole family, free of charge. And this is what I want to focus on today. Both Joseph and the Polish man had zero clue of the benefits that would come as a result of their sufferings. These stories resonate with me, particularly as I reflect on my life over the past ten years or so. My own journey mirrors their lessons.

    I was an entirely different person a decade ago. I had many differences with my father and spent most of my time at my mother’s house with her husband and my two maternal half-siblings. Though I had developed some destructive habits as a result of exploiting my mother’s kindness, all in all, I had a pretty good life (relative to my perception at the time). When I found out that my mother and stepfather bought a place in Florida and were set to move in the next six months, I was absolutely devastated. I wanted to go, but I was devoted to my band, and it was a non-negotiable for me.

    Still, though I was confident in my decision, I surely wished it didn’t have to be made at all, and I was rather depressed at first. I missed my family for sure, and the pain from the years lost grows with each passing day. However, them moving to Florida meant two things in addition to being separated from the only side of my family that, at the time, I felt accepted (or maybe the right word is “comfortable”) by, regardless of its unhealthy nature: 1) I would be moving in with my father, stepmother, and paternal half-siblings (all of whom I love dearly, though at the time it was a hostile environment, as I disregarded the potency of marijuana, either storing it improperly or even smoking in the house on rare occasions), and 2) I would be separated from my cats, Chloe and Buddy, who were two of my best friends at the time, especially Chloe. I paid the most attention to the cats, and I knew that our separation would mean that they would not receive the love and attention that they had grown accustomed to. And I would soon learn, unfortunately, that I was right. A couple months in, they got a third cat, Primus, and for about a year it seemed like everything was going smoothly. It wasn’t until they got a dog that I started to see that they weren’t getting the attention they deserved. After being raised with full access to the house, the cats had become banished to the outdoor deck, food bowls and litter-box no more than five feet apart from each other. Sure, they always had food, water, and an occasionally clean litter box; however, cats are emotional creatures that can get depressed, and every time I would visit, I saw a look of both depression and hope in their eyes.

    All while this was going down, back on Long Island I was hustling in the food industry, funding my bands, and living at my father’s house, where my marijuana use was becoming excessive. Leaving bowls and baggies in conspicuous places where my siblings could find them, along with chronic potent odors, ultimately led to me being kicked out of my father’s house and moving in with my grandparents. I lived with my grandparents for two years, and during this time I experienced a number of life-changing events, from surviving a five-car collision to gaining enough self-awareness that I could physiologically prevent what felt like life-threatening brain spasms. Though I wasn’t religious at that point, I knew that moving forward I wanted to work towards becoming what is traditionally understood as a “modern-orthodox Jew.”

    I moved out of my grandparents’ house and tried to make it on my own. Upon making a number of bad choices along the way, I decided to enroll in an audio engineering school in Manhattan that I would attend by day while dorming and studying Torah at a yeshiva in New Jersey by night. Everything was set up and good to go, until the week I was supposed to call the rabbi for confirmation, and I was ghosted. For five days, I tried reaching the rabbi to no avail. When he finally answered, he said he didn’t think he was the right teacher for me and that I was rejected from the yeshiva. I was miserable. I spent a week in my father’s basement in the darkness, coming out maybe once a day for a quick bite of food before returning to my dark lair. It happened to be that one of my closest friends was getting married, and so I “suited up” and left the dungeon.

    On the drive to my friend’s wedding, I, in a spur of the moment, contacted the audio engineering school to inquire about the possibility of transferring to their Florida school, so that I might get a fresh start. And so it was that I enrolled in SAE Institute Miami for the 2019 fall session. I moved in with my mom, who at the time was just living with my sister, as my former stepfather was basically no longer in the picture. For a while, things were nice. We had our arguments from time to time, but compared to what it could have been, things were relatively peaceful for about six months until the COVID pandemic changed the world. Like everyone else, I was scared and didn’t know what the future held. All I knew is that I had family in New York, and the thought of not being able to see them for an extended duration was terrifying. I remember Passover of 2020. We were in Florida, and our air conditioning broke and would not be fixed till the next day. Between the happenings of the Seder, the lack of air conditioning, and the uncertainty of everything going on in the world at the time, I was a biopsychosocial mess. I remember just bawling one of those nights, literally to the point of exhaustion, and fell asleep. That night, I had a vivid dream of my father and I sharing a long, warm hug. I woke up just knowing it had to mean something good.

    After taking a semester off from school, I finally went back to finish. Tensions continued to rise in my mother’s house, and the inevitable reality that I couldn’t live in her house for much longer became apparent. I had developed a toxic relationship with my sister where I abdicated my role as her brother and instead tried to fill her fatherless void, subconscious as it may have been. After a particularly ugly altercation, I recognized that our relationship was unhealthy, and the best way for me to inculcate whatever values I wanted in her was to be the exemplar of those values without pushing anybody else to be. I wouldn’t realize it for another few years; however, I am delighted to see that my sister has blossomed into someone who is living out the values I had tried so hard to instill in her and more. I have no doubt that my mother’s healthy relationship with her husband has contributed greatly to this. However, a part of me likes to think that through all the turmoil, something, maybe even just a kernel of the words I said to her, stuck.

    With no viable job opportunities at the time, my best option was to move back to New York for work in a completely unrelated field. Though things were going poorly at my mother’s house, I still loved Florida, wholeheartedly. So, for the second time in five years, I felt devastated once again that I would be leaving a place that I had come to love so much. The good news? I’d be reunited with my cats for good, as everyone recognized that their best chance at a longer, quality life would be with me. The bad news? I got to drive from south Florida to Queens over the course of three days in a 2003 Toyota Camry with three noisy cats. From incessant meowing for hours to Primus busting out of his cat carrier and subsequently shifting my stick to neutral while on the highway (even more chaos ensued!), I was close to having a breakdown, and I had the first true realization of the importance of companionship—someone to share a life with, through good times and bad.

    It was late December of 2020, and I had moved into my great-great-uncle’s abandoned dental office with my three cats. I had a remote job (that required me still to live in New York State), and I became lonely to the point of minor insanity. I would go visit my dad’s house weekly, thank God, however, spending hours on end alone multiple days a week really got to me. I could no longer take the isolation, so I got a new job working as a behavior technician, before going to work for my father’s company, where I would spend the next three and a half years working.

    I started dating for marriage once I got to a place where I felt comfortable enough to do so. My wife was the third person I dated seriously, and she embodied everything I didn’t know I was looking for. She dormed at a college in Manhattan, and after our first date, we agreed to see each other again. She told me she was going back home to Philadelphia for a month, and so I proceeded to go see her every Sunday until she went back to New York for school.

    After three years of being married to the woman of my dreams, I can’t help but think about just how depressed I was at the mere prospect of leaving Florida. In the meantime, looking back, I see that it was meant to be, for it is highly unlikely that I would have ever met my wife had I not moved back to New York. Not only would I have likely never met my wife, but it was she who gave me the inspiration (along with my success at the audio engineering school) to pursue my much longer-spanning dream of a career in the mental health field. She gives me the confidence to pursue this career while also pursuing my dreams of professionally writing and speaking publicly.

    The struggles I have mentioned, as well as those I have not listed (and yes, there are many), though perhaps not comparable in terms of magnitude, are certainly comparable in terms of concept and are reminiscent of the aforementioned stories of Joseph and the Polish man. It is a tremendously difficult thing to do; however, if we could all just take a step back before we make assumptions about the obstacles life throws in our direction, we would be more at peace with ourselves and the world around us. Of course, it is easier said than done. Very much so. Two things can be true at once: a) I believe everything happens for a reason, and b) I don’t know what those reasons are, so I must respond naturally and appropriately.

    There is real tragedy and devastation in the world. There is nothing that can be done about that. However, the psychological and emotional toll (and even the physiological toll) can be significantly mitigated if we could simply remember Joseph and the Polish man. If only we could just for one instance put ourselves in the shoes of the man who, after all the suffering endured, got spared from the Holocaust, along with his entire immediate family as a result. If only I had known that my mother’s move to Florida, my time living with her, and my return to New York would lead me to a wonderful community, a happy marriage, a renewed and healthier relationship with my father and his side of the family, my beloved cats, and the pursuit of my true passions, I would have gone through those years breathing much more easily.

    You will encounter challenges in your life. There will be great times in your life. There will be unavoidable suffering, and there will be pleasures beyond your wildest dreams. How you choose to respond to these stimuli will shape the way your life unfolds.

    Don’t forget to check out my previous post discussing plans for the Purpose and Skills Center pilot event! https://jewishamericanaspiringtherapist.blog/2025/07/18/purpose-skills-center-a-place-to-find-meaning-and-learn-craft/

    GoFundMe: https://www.gofundme.com/f/launch-purpose-skills-center-for-struggling-individuals/cl/o?v=amp14_t2&utm_campaign=fp_sharesheet&utm_content=amp13_c-amp14_t2&utm_medium=customer&utm_source=copy_link&lang=en_US&attribution_id=sl%3A95b6d5d3-0373-474a-8d4a-9e3c79c05407&ts=1753002949

    Email: LongIslandYid613631@gmail.com

  • Purpose & Skills Center: A Place to Find Meaning and Learn Craft

    Dear valued and cherished reader,

    It’s the Long Island Yid here: husband, behavior technician, psychology student, and aspiring addiction counselor with a simple belief: Sometimes, all anyone really needs is to occupy their time with something positive. This is why I’m excited to announce the Purpose & Skills Center, a place for individuals like teens and young adults, individuals in recovery, and people seeking a career change, all while paving one’s own path towards a meaningful life, replacing potentially destructive tendencies with hands-on skilled trade training, friendship and mental health education.

    Boredom fuels bad choices, plain and simple—overspending, overeating, or worse, especially for folks in recovery or going through tough times, when destructive tendencies can hit even harder. I firmly believe we can replace these habits with healthy, productive ones, making every moment time well spent. Learning trades like carpentry, plumbing, or HVAC offers a meaningful path. It also builds community. As Dale Carnegie of blessed memory says in How to Win Friends and Influence People, we all crave belonging, and a career in the trades offers a chance to belong and so much more (Carnegie, 1981/1936).

    Picture a young adult, maybe in recovery, spending an evening wiring a circuit or crafting a table alongside others facing their own demons. Each moment spent mitigates time for harmful habits, building genuine relationships, and paving the way to a “legitimate career” with potential to eventually create businesses and generate real wealth. Initially, I envision monthly 2-hour workshops with 30 minutes of mental health education, 30 minutes of skilled trade-related education, and 60 minutes of hands-on shop time. We’ll also host monthly seminars with mental health specialists, tradesmen, or other guest speakers to share words of inspiration and wisdom. Down the road, I envision “open shop” on weeknights for people to come and perfect their craft. I also envision deals between students and instructors for formal apprenticeships and jobs, plus counselors on-site for meaningful mental health breakthroughs, making the Purpose & Skills Center not just for today but for generations!

    Join Our Mission

    We’re starting small due to limited funding, with the goal of a pilot workshop in January 2026 for 10–20 participants in a community space. If we see traction (e.g., 10–15 returning participants), we’ll move to monthly workshops by February 2026, then perhaps weekly by April. Our long-term goal? By December 2026, with strong community backing, we aim to open a facility 3–5 days a week, 12 PM to 11 PM, for drop-in skill practice and mentorship. Here’s how you can help:

    – **Venue Partners**: Offer a space (e.g., synagogue, JCC, community center) for our pilot or monthly workshops by November 2025.

    – **Trade Volunteers**: Are you a carpenter, electrician, or HVAC tech? Lead a hands-on lesson or speak at our pilot by November 2025.

    – **Funders**: Donate $50–$500 for tools and materials (e.g., $100 equips one participant) via our GoFundMe https://gofund.me/38583590 by November 2025.

    – **Mentors/Partners**: Mental health professionals or organizations (e.g., New Horizon Counseling Center, Madreigos) can help shape our curriculum, recruit participants, counseling, and give presentations, by November 2025.

    – **Spread the Word**: Share this post to connect us with those who can help.

    Email me @ LongIslandYid613631@gmail.com, visit our GoFundMe @ https://gofund.me/38583590, or share this post to help teens, young adults, and anyone seeking positive change to build futures through trades and recovery.

    Let’s start with one workshop, prove the impact, and grow into a life-changing daily resource together!

    Carnegie, D. (1981). How to Win Friends and Influence People. Pocket Books.

  • New Direction: Same Goal

    I’m an aspirational kind of guy. From touring metal vocalist to aspiring clinical psychologist, I’ve always set the bar kind of high (relative to where I was in life at the time, of course). I saw a PhD in clinical psychology as the pinnacle of success. Though this is still a path I may pursue in the future, I wanted to go for something that would get me in the field doing what I wanted to do sooner. So, I looked into becoming a clinical mental health counselor, and then my recent and longest-standing vision was to become a Licensed Clinical Social Worker (LCSW). I figured that the universality of the LCSW would allow me to specialize in areas like trauma therapy and marriage counseling, areas that I am particularly interested in. However, in the midst of deep meditation and contemplation, I had a realization: it’s not about the title. What a relief. That is why I am proud to announce that I am going to pursue a career in addiction counseling instead of social work, with a vision to write, speak, and possibly launch a program that teaches people—especially those in recovery—the manual labor trades as a means of redirecting their focus from destructive tendencies to life-changing skills. This is my story, and I hope it inspires you to embrace your own evolving path.

    For at least a year now, the LCSW route was my clear path toward helping people, with a doctorate as the long-term goal. My vision was to get a day job working as a school social worker and then build a private practice on the side. While addiction counseling may not be applicable in an academic setting, and a private practice doesn’t necessarily specialize in marriage counseling or trauma therapy, there is much overlap in all of these areas. In addition, it’s a quicker path to licensure (allowing me to open a private practice sooner), and the industry is growing exponentially. The U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics projects a 19% job growth for substance abuse counselors from 2023 to 2033, compared to 4% for jobs overall, approximately 77,500 new jobs annually through 2033 (U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics, 2024). This doesn’t come without a cost, of course: one can only surmise that this job growth is fueled by the ever-present drug epidemic taking place in the United States, sad to say. This career path might not have been what I had in mind exactly; however, it’s a consistent, meaningful career that I believe will allow me to help people navigate the treacherous waters of life, adding new meaning to their existence, while simultaneously pursuing my longer-term goals of writing and public speaking.

    Suffice it to say, the subject of addiction is certainly a heavy one. I have witnessed firsthand the destructive powers of addiction to substances like heroin and opiates. While working at a restaurant, I became friendly with a few people that, in common language, can only be described as “junkies.” I didn’t see them as just junkies. I saw them as friends that I would go out on a limb for. As we all moved on, I remember periodically checking in and seeing how one guy that I was particularly friendly with was doing. I remember hearing that he was doing really well in a facility in North Carolina. I wouldn’t hear about him again until a few months later, when somebody who worked with us at the restaurant informed me of his passing. It was a predictable outcome. “The best predictor of future behavior is relevant past behavior,” claims Dr. Phil McGraw in his book We’ve Got Issues (McGraw, 2024). My mother’s ex-husband was heavily addicted to opiates, and later heroin, or anything to kill the pain. This cut a hole in our family almost to the point of irreparable damage. These losses drive my mission to help people overcome not just addiction, but the psychological toll it brings to recovering addicts and their loved ones as well.

    Viktor Frankl of blessed memory wrote, “When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves” (Frankl, 2014/1946). Though I am still only in my bachelor’s program, I believe that my interest in Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT) and logotherapy will greatly complement the knowledge and skills I will pick up about addiction counseling during the graduate program. For example, CBT can be used to help shift negative thought patterns and behaviors (Haidt & Lukianoff, 2018). Logotherapy can help clients draw meaning and inspiration to make whatever adjustments are needed to overcome their struggles (Frankl, 2014/1946). Helping couples who have been damaged by substance abuse or helping people who might have gotten in with the wrong crowd after a traumatic experience—this career path overlaps with all of my areas of interest.

    I opened this piece by writing that I’m an aspirational guy. While being an addiction counselor is something that I very much intend to do for the long haul, I have more plans for both the short term and the long term. For the shorter term, I imagine organizing a community space, open to anyone struggling—not restricted to addicts. No judgment, just people seeking purpose. We’d host weekly or monthly workshops where trade professionals—HVAC techs, electricians, carpenters, stonemasons—share their craft in 20- to 60-minute presentations, going over key information about their trade. Then, participants get hands-on, working at tables on woodworking, metalwork, or any other projects brought in by mentors. I have been inspired by Mike Rowe, a public figure I’m a huge fan of, from his show People You Should Know on YouTube. One episode in particular featured a beautiful organization known as Teaching the Autism Community Trades (TACT), which does exactly what the title infers, and more (Rowe, 2025). Upon having this shift in career trajectory, I wondered how I could use my resources to benefit the blue-collar fields, and what better way to get people’s minds off their addictions than to create new, healthy, therapeutic outlets like manipulating metal and fixing hot rods?

    Choosing addiction counseling and dreaming up this program feels like I have found a missing part of my identity. It’s not the path I planned, fixated on marriage or trauma counseling, but it’s the one that fits. The booming job market is a bonus, offering stability as I grow my practice and vision. Maybe I’ll chase that PhD one day, when the time feels right, to deepen my impact. For now, I’m building a foundation—through credentials, skills, and passion—that lasts. My vision for trades in recovery adds hope, connecting people to skills that build futures.

    Our goals evolve, and that’s okay as long as they are going in the right direction.

    Frankl, V. E. (2014). Man’s Search for Meaning. Beacon Press.

    Lukianoff, G., & Haidt, J. (2018). The coddling of the American mind: How good intentions and bad ideas are setting up a generation for failure. Penguin.

    McGraw, P. C. (2024). We’ve got issues: How you can stand strong for America’s soul and sanity. Simon & Schuster.

    Rowe, M. [mikerowe]. (2025, May 16). Teaching The Autism Community Trades: Danny Combs / Episode 2 / People You Should Know [Video]. YouTube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ccRG6Mzjowk

  • A Letter to the Busboy: An Effort to Salvage a Missed Opportunity

    As I enjoyed a well-deserved omelet on a cinnamon raisin bagel in one of my favorite joints, I could not help but notice that the kid bussing tables and sweeping the floor had what I could only describe as a depressed look on his face. Not depressed like he had just lost a loved one, Heaven forbid, but a face that to me was all too familiar. It was the face that I made virtually every second of the five years that I worked in food service (on the inside at the very least). I was inclined to greet him and try to tell him something that would have changed his life—that his job wasn’t just a means to an end, but an end in itself, a chance to grow, to climb, to open doors to a whole world of possibility if he could simply shift his perspective. I opted to stay silent, foolishly, nervous I’d fumble the words, but I’m writing this now to redeem that missed opportunity, for him and for anyone feeling stuck in what they call a “dead-end” job. The food service industry can be unforgiving at times. Stressed out bosses, customers with a ticking lunch break, and co-workers who don’t always see eye-to-eye makes the food service industry among the most stressful in-the-moment industries out there (not to mention the financial difficulties it comes with naturally). I, a desperate wannabe rockstar, was miserable, bitter toward customers and coworkers, counting down the seconds to leave daily. Looking back, I only see now the character and work ethic that those five years instilled in me, warts and all.

    My great-grandfather of blessed memory was a successful caterer, a man who built a thriving business out of feeding people, and an even larger reputation for being extremely charitable. Allow me to paint two different pictures for you now: picture A is of an aspiring rockstar slaving away (at the hands of their own devices, unbeknownst to them) at a restaurant. All this guy can think of is how he’s not a rockstar and how terrible it is to have to work hard for a living. Picture B is of an aspiring rockstar hustling at a restaurant while simultaneously pursuing a career in music. He recognizes that his current employment puts him on a direct path to a more advanced-level job in the industry, like operating one’s own catering business, management, becoming a chef etc. In both cases they are pursuing a career in music and working the seemingly dead-end job simultaneously. The only difference is the way they perceive their situation. By simply perceiving the dead-end job as a possible gateway to a successful career, even if not the ideal at the time, he can go to work every day with confidence, living in the moment, not just passing through like a breeze.

    In my first blog post, I wrote about how our culture tends to misguidedly look down upon manual labor trades like plumbing or electrical work, and how that societal view influenced myself and so many others to avoid those paths from a very young age. Food service isn’t any different. I’m disappointed in myself for not internalizing my great-grandfather’s legacy sooner. I could have seen the food biz as a craft, a way to serve and connect, not just a paycheck to blow.  I could have worked my way up the corporate ladder, maybe had a career in restaurant management by now, or met people—maybe even wealthy folks in other industries—who could’ve opened doors I didn’t even know existed. I read something in Jordan Peterson’s Beyond Order: 12 More Rules for Life that really struck a chord in me: someone working at the restaurant Dr. Peterson was dining in approached him with tears in his eyes. He used to be bitter about his “dead-end” job, but upon drawing influence and inspiration from Peterson’s work, the waiter decided that the best course of action was to be the very best waiter he could be. He worked hard, got promoted multiple times in just a few months, and got to thank the man himself (Peterson, 2021). When I read that, I was working a cushy office job, and I was jealous of that guy. Oh, how I wished I had just been aware of this perspective during my time in food service.

    Maybe you’re in your late teens or early twenties, working in a restaurant, a cubicle, or a labor trade, or maybe you’re older and just not happy with your job. It’s not about staying in a job that makes you miserable, but about seeing it differently, finding meaning in work, and using it to increase your skills, experience, and marketability. Work isn’t just a means to an end; with the right mentality, work is an end in itself. When you consciously remind yourself that your efforts benefit the lives of others—customers, coworkers, bosses, even yourself—it transforms the daunting parts into something satisfying, something even greater than yourself. In Exodus 20:9, the Torah says, “Six days shall you work and accomplish all your work” — Work is woven into the fabric of creation, a divine call to contribute to the society one is blessed to be a part of. Viktor Frankl of blessed memory, in Man’s Search for Meaning regards work as one of the three primary sources of meaning in life (along with love and the endurance of unavoidable suffering) (Frankl, 2014). Regardless of how insignificant you might think your current occupation is, recognize that it contains the potential for that meaning right now—serving others, growing yourself, and building a future.

    What’s the best way to go about this? One idea is to start each day by acknowledging who benefits from your labor. Write it down or say it to yourself: “I’m feeding hungry people who can go do their jobs. I’m helping the business owner support their family. I’m earning money to pay rent or save for college.” Look for the ripple effect—your work touches countless lives. When I was in restaurants, I didn’t think about how my serving a plate of food helped a customer recharge for their day or how my attitude could’ve lifted my coworkers’ otherwise bad days. I could’ve learned skills like leadership, communication, or maybe even become a chef, making me more marketable for better jobs or even climbing within the company. I wonder what could have been if I had really tried networking with some of the countless customers I interacted with daily—maybe one was a music producer who could have completely redirected my course. This doesn’t mean every job is your forever job. If you’re in a toxic workplace or simply feel like it’s time to move on, it’s okay to leave. But while you’re there, wake up and smell the ‘not-as-good-as-yours-at-home’ coffee.

    Opportunity lurks everywhere—in the skills you build, the people you meet, the confidence you gain. That kid at the bagel shop? He could be a manager or a head chef one day or use his time and resources to start his own business, if only he will choose to see it. If I could go back, I’d tell my younger self to stop being bitter and start being proactive. I wasted those years, but you don’t have to. Whether you’re flipping burgers, answering phones, or swinging a hammer, your work matters.

     So tomorrow, walk into work and remind yourself: this isn’t just a job—it’s a chance to become more, to serve others, and to find purpose. Take a moment to reflect: who’s benefiting from your work today? Write it down, say it out loud, and let it sink in. Then go be the best you can be, because opportunity is waiting if you just open your eyes.

    Frankl, V. E. (2014). Man’s Search for Meaning. Beacon Press.

    Peterson, J. B. (2021). Beyond order: 12 more rules for life. Penguin.

  • Anniversary Reflection: Three Years Later

    After spending three trips around the sun being married to my wife, I’ve come to recognize love as more than simply a mere feeling; rather, love is a duality paved by mutual values, conscientious and pragmatic decision-making, and the willingness to recognize that life’s challenges are best faced in tandem, not in solitude. As a proud Orthodox Jewish American, it is these principles that both strengthen our marital bond and ought to strike a chord with those looking to derive meaning out of their own lives.

    Our first date and our wedding were six months and a day apart. During this time, we prioritized and emphasized things like communication, negotiating our ideals for both the short and long-term future, and simply enjoying each other’s company. This cultivated a deep friendship which became the cornerstone for taking on life’s difficulties, such as financial problems and health concerns, including a terrifying 20+ tick scare on our recent anniversary getaway.

    When I reflect on my personal journey over the past three years, I can confidently surmise that I’ve grown exponentially in areas like patience, work ethic, social awareness, financial literacy, and the direction of my aspirations. I have heard that it isn’t a bad thing for one to shift their aspirations so long as those aspirations are a step higher than the ones being deviated from. To think that for years, all I wanted was to become a heavy metal star, and instead I find myself even more excited and passionate about the prospect of making a modest career in the field of mental health is incredible, even to me.  And so it was that my wife, through her kind words of inspiration, helped me conclude that I should go back to school and chase the career I thought about way back before I even learned to play the guitar.

    My aspirations weren’t always so clean. My pre-marital days were filled with lusting after expediencies. I took women for granted, alienated my family, and abused recreational drugs and alcohol. It wasn’t until I got into a five-car collision on the highway that I truly began thinking about what I was doing with my life. Couple that in with my first encounter with the true power of mind over matter, as I cured myself of an awful bout of what felt like life-threatening head spasms by wearing a bandana around my head to increase self-awareness. Still, it wasn’t until I moved back to New York from Florida with three screaming cats in the car which brought to my attention that even life’s seemingly inconsequential and mundane problems are significantly more challenging alone (and on the flip side, everything good is better with someone else). This experience changed my perspective from merely wanting to get married to seeing it as one of the great necessities in life. Viktor Frankl of blessed memory, in his timeless classic Man’s Search for Meaning, masterfully articulates how the mere hope of seeing a loved one again gave many Holocaust survivors the strength to carry out the daunting tasks of the concentration camps (Frankl, 2014/1946). During the aforementioned tick scare, which prematurely concluded our anniversary getaway, my wife’s calm support, checking me head to toe and staying composed despite having an immense phobia of bugs, turned a horrifying experience into a manageable one, reminiscent of Frankl’s insights on the power of the connection between mind and heart.

    Having shared values is a good formula for spousal chemistry. On our first date, we had riveting, deep conversations regarding religion, politics, music, and raising a family. It was these early conversations that helped pave the way to some of our later, more consequential choices, like not to move to Cleveland. We fell in love with the community, but living a minimum of an eight-hour car ride from our nearest family became an absolute deal-breaker upon further contemplation of the matter. It’s no secret that families are distancing themselves from each other more and more these days, and this is a trend that we do not believe is conducive to human flourishing.

    The journeys of both my parents and my wife’s parents have influenced us as well. My father remarried, raising four other kids; my mother remarried with two other kids, and my wife’s parents remarried each other after becoming observant in Judaism. This sheds light on the ever-expanding potential for a successful marriage when God gets to be included.

    Know your non-negotiables, have a shared vision, values, and don’t waste time on dealbreakers. Yes, there are some things that people can grow to love and accept, which is why it’s important to ascertain those things that you simply cannot live with. Spend time thinking about it. And before your list of non-negotiables becomes too long, remember that if we can all agree that only God is perfect, then we must also recognize that nobody is perfect, including you and I. For the Orthodox Jewish community, these lessons align with Torah values but are universal, nevertheless. Marriage isn’t about perfection or constant rainbows and butterflies, but it is about choosing to take on life’s challenges together through thick and thin. We face obstacles as battles fought together, not barriers between us, held together by God, country, and family. For those dating, be direct about what matters; for those married, see your spouse as a partner to confront every monster in the closet. Three years in, and I am certainly not the man I was. Despite having many areas in need of serious improvement, marriage has objectively made me better, and I don’t plan on slowing down any time soon.

    I’m beyond grateful every day.

    Frankl, V. E. (2014). Man’s Search for Meaning (2014 ed.). Beacon Press.


  • A Shot in the Dark: Because Time Doesn’t Slow Down for Anyone

    Going back as far as I can remember, I’ve always loved writing—short stories, poetry, essays, song lyrics etc. Something always kept me putting pen to paper. Blogging, though, never quite made the list. I’ve considered it, but as a mere undergrad psychology student, I doubted anyone would care about my takes on complex topics like politics, religion, or sports. Truth is, I’ve got a lot on my mind—maybe fueling my occasional insomnia—and as a newly minted 30-year-old, it’s now or never. If one person is moved by my words, it’s worth it. Here’s my shot in the dark.

    I grew up in a blue-collar family. My grandfather was a computer hardware technician when computers spanned entire walls; my dad and uncle were contractors before moving to white-collar roles in blue-collar industries. Me? I never held a drill (maybe a toy drill, but I can’t even swear to that). This isn’t directed at anyone specifically, rather, the view of manual labor being beneath the rising generation has infiltrated the cultural ethos of many parents whom themselves were blue-collar workers; their success simply meant that their children wouldn’t need to consider trades as potentially rewarding careers. I reject this view. Today’s entitlement culture, encompassed by the rising generation, fuels this stigma equally so; if work is bad in and of itself, how much worse are the “dirty jobs”?

    But the trades are, in fact, empowering, offering financial stability, mobility, and meaning. I graduated from SAE Institute Miami as an audio engineer in 2020. Even in free Florida, work was scarce given the complexities of the time. Getting my car inspected before moving back to my home state of New York, I saw a former SAE classmate and carpool buddy thriving as an auto mechanic (he’d left the program early). Oh, how I wished I’d studied plumbing or HVAC—skills that thrive, even in a post-apocalyptic society. I hope the rising generation and their parents begin to see the trades as viable, meaningful careers.

    Women’s health is another passion; especially how medical research sidesteps women’s hormonal complexity. Drug trials favor men because their hormones are “easier” to control, leaving women vulnerable to untested products (Hill, 2019). Take the birth control pill, the Franz Ferdinand of the 1960s sexual revolution—its shot sparked a cultural upheaval but was fired with little regard for women’s well-being, separating sex’s physical act from its spiritual depth (Hill, 2019). By halting natural hormonal cycles, the pill can alter mood, attraction, and long-term health, yet robust data regarding the long-term effects is scarce (Hill, 2019). In the Orthodox-Jewish community, which I am enthusiastically proud to be a part of, the pill is often assumed to be a given at marriage. Shouldn’t we at least have a wealth of research on what stopping a woman’s natural hormonal cycle does?

    This blog won’t stop here—you’ll find takes on religion, politics, relationships, music, sports, psychology, and more. I hope you’ll spark conversations at family dinners, break rooms, or classrooms. Climb on for a wild ride. Will you take your shot in the dark?

    Reference
    Hill, S. E. (2019). This Is Your Brain on Birth Control: The Surprising Science of Women, Hormones, and the Law of Unintended Consequences. Avery.