Every Thanksgiving, my family ends up around a table that feels a little too small for the number of people talking at once. There is always someone trying to pass a dish in the wrong direction, someone arguing about politics, and someone asking me what I have been up to. That last part is where BBYO always finds its way in.

I never sit down planning to talk about BBYO; it just happens. When my relatives ask what I spend so much time doing, I start describing the latest program I helped put together or the event my region is working on. I talk about the late-night planning calls, the moments when everything gets so overwhelming, and the feeling when it all comes together and people actually have fun.

As I’m explaining it, I realize why it keeps showing up in these conversations. It is one of the few things in my life that ties together responsibility, friendship, and a sense of purpose, and adults love hearing about things like that.

In addition, BBYO creates a strong sense of identity for me. At Thanksgiving, someone always asks a big question about being Jewish. For me, BBYO is the easiest way to answer. It is the place where being Jewish fits naturally into my week, not as something I have to figure out or defend, but as something that shapes the people I am around and the things we do together. When I say that, the adults nod in a way that tells me they’re glad I have found a space that feels steady and meaningful.

Thanksgiving also brings out everyone’s favorite stories from when they were younger. My uncle likes to talk about the clubs he joined in high school, most of which no longer exist. My grandparents always have a story about finding their community in a new city. When I talk about BBYO, my stories line up with theirs. Even though the world has changed, the core of wanting to belong and wanting to lead hasn’t. They understand the excitement of taking charge of something, even if it’s just a regional event, and they get the nerves that come with it too.

Then comes the question about what I learned this year. It sounds simple, but it is always a little too big. BBYO makes that question easier to answer. I can talk about learning how to talk to people I barely know, how to keep a group on track, or how to handle conflict without making things worse. None of it feels dramatic. It feels like the real growth that sneaks up on you when you’re working hard and having a good time at the same moment.

By the time dessert arrives, I’ve usually mentioned BBYO three or four times without meaning to. It’s not because I’m trying to advertise it. It’s because BBYO shapes my days in ways that show up in my stories, my choices, and the things I care about. So when my family asks what feels important right now, BBYO naturally becomes part of the answer.