When I was in middle school, my older cousins came to visit. They kept talking about this thing called BBYO. I listened in on their conversations and knew it was something I wanted to be a part of. But when I started high school, I had basically forgotten about it. My cousins had graduated, so BBYO was no longer part of our conversations, and there weren’t many Jewish teens at my school involved in anything in my city.

Then, one day, I sat next to a girl in my English class. She told me she was trying to restart a BBYO chapter in Ann Arbor and thought I should join. I immediately said yes. I remembered hearing my cousins talk about BBYO as if it were the best thing in the world. I wanted to see for myself.

I went to my first event and instantly wanted more. I wanted to lead, learn more about my Jewish identity, meet new people, and create the kind of Jewish community I hadn’t thought I could find anywhere else. So when the opportunity came to run for Chapter S’ganit, I didn’t have to think twice. I created my platform, wrote my speech, and ran in my first election. When I heard my name called, I couldn’t help but smile, even though no emotion could be shown. I was officially Chapter S’ganit. This was just the beginning.

During my term as S’ganit, I knew I wanted more. I wanted to be the one with the gavel at the front of the room, the one leading chapter events and board meetings, and the one standing on stage at Regional Convention with my chapter flag. So I decided to run for Chapter N’siah.

Again, I created my platform and wrote my speech. As I stood in front of my chapter members, I looked out at their faces and knew I wanted to change the way they saw BBYO and their Jewish community. After my speech, our current N’siah held my hand. Although I ran unopposed, hearing, “Yes. We were successful in electing a N’siah for the 2025–2026 programming year. From 2025–2026, her name will be Jane Grocoff,” is a feeling I still can’t explain.

During my term as N’siah, my view of BBYO changed completely. I learned about the International Order, attended my first IC, met people from around the world, learned everything I could about BBG and AZA history, signed up for ILTC, and decided to run for Michigan Region’s 82nd S’ganit.

For what I thought would be the last time, I created a platform and wrote a speech. Standing in front of 200 BBGs and telling them my goals and ideas for Michigan Region was one of those moments that didn’t feel real. I can barely remember the speech itself. What I do remember is holding my Regional N’siah’s hand in my right hand and the other candidates’ hands in my left.

When my name wasn’t called, a million thoughts rushed through my head.

What did I do wrong? Should I have done more? Does my region not think I’m qualified enough? Is this the end of my BBYO journey?

The rest of the election flew by, but those questions stayed with me. I knew I didn’t want my leadership in BBYO to be over. I still wanted more.

So I decided to run for Chapter Morah. This time, I was convinced I had done everything right. I had grown my chapter by more than 50%, served as both S’ganit and N’siah, attended ILTC, gone to every regional event that year, and served on the Spring Convention Steering Committee. What else did I need to win Chapter Morah?

I gave my speech and stood at the front of the room. My chapter’s S’ganit held my hand. When my name wasn’t called, I knew that this time, my leadership in BBYO really was over.

I finished running the rest of the elections with a smile on my face, pretending I wasn’t upset that what felt like years of hard work had amounted to nothing.

But then I went to ILTC.

Over the summer, I realized something I had spent months refusing to believe: leadership isn’t defined by the position written next to your name. I had lost election after election, and I thought that meant my leadership in BBYO was over. Instead, I was just getting started.

For the first time, I applied for the International Leadership Network. When I opened the results, I had gotten my first choice: Editor-in-Chief of The Shofar.

I had spent so much time thinking leadership meant standing at the front of the room with a gavel in my hand. Now, I was leading through a different kind of voice: a byline, a story, and a publication reaching BBYO members around the world.

Losing those elections taught me that choosing to keep showing up, finding where you can make a difference, and refusing to believe that one “no” gets to decide what you do next is what leadership truly is. 

I thought my BBYO leadership was ending. Instead, I finally understood that it was never about where I stood. It was about what I could do from wherever I was.