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Between my teenage years and my early 20s, I was fired from over 15 different jobs. Some of it was immaturity, some of it was a lack of direction. And some of my decisions were just totally class clown ridiculous because I needed to grow up.

But one firing stands out more than the rest.

I was 23, working at a law firm and just weeks away from getting engaged to my now wife. I knew it was coming and could feel it in the air so a few days before they officially fired me, I quietly cleaned out my desk so I could avoid the humiliation of carrying a cardboard box out of the office.

When the moment finally came, I stood up, said thank you, and walked out holding that day’s New York Post and nothing else. No box, but definitely with a knot in my stomach.

This time of year, I get a lot of messages from people who have been laid off, burned out, underemployed, or just searching for their next step to better support themselves and their families. And I always think back to how vulnerable and scared I felt walking out that day without a job to go to. It’s an awful feeling.  

I hear these stories not only from the broader community, but from within our own JGO world too. While we are best known for supporting grad students, our alumni remain deeply connected to our community after graduation and many find themselves navigating career transitions, sudden layoffs, relocations, or long job searches. They reach out, not always for a job lead, but often for something simpler: reassurance, encouragement, and connection.

In Judaism, many people think the greatest act of charity is donating anonymously, but that’s actually number two on Maimonides’ list of the highest levels of tzedakah. Number one is helping someone find a job.

Because work is not just a paycheck; it’s dignity, stability, and the chance to show up as our best selves in the world.

Even when we don’t have a job to offer, we still have something powerful to give: Simply reaching out to someone who is searching and asking how they are doing can be profoundly meaningful. Feeling seen, remembered, and supported carries real weight when someone is walking through uncertainty.

As we head into this holiday season, I’m thinking more about the people who are quietly searching, including the many JGO alumni who are part of our extended family. Lifting each other with small gestures of care is part of why JGO exists and what makes our community feel like a real community.

May we all merit to fulfill that highest level of charity by lifting someone forward with compassion.

Warmly,
Dave