Rivka Alt helps teens spy out the leader in themselves.
Then one summer, the head counselor of the day camp I was supposed to work in called me right before camp and asked if I could take on the shiur counselor position for the entire day camp. I was amused; my summers up until that point were about one thing — fun. Teaching was the last thing on my mind. In fact, coming from a family of teachers, my siblings’ favorite way to annoy me (I’m the youngest) was, “Rivka, one day you’re going to be a big teacher, and we’re going to have the last laugh.”
To this day, I wonder which sibling paid off this head counselor to offer me the job, and I still have no idea why I agreed. I just remember pretending that I wasn’t enjoying it as much as I actually was.
Once I’d tasted the sweetness of sharing Torah, there was no looking back. By the time I reached my second year of seminary, I could hardly sit through classes. I was itching to get up and teach.
The second-year program I attended in Eretz Yisrael had a daily Aish HaTorah kiruv-training program taught by some of the most prestigious speakers in Yerushalayim, explaining how to give over basic concepts in Yiddishkeit.
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