Starting my college search, I was  certain about only two requirements for my college-to-be: an established engineering program and an administration that supported engineering students in studying abroad. Studying abroad while earning a B.S. in engineering is difficult, and I knew the field of potential universities would be limited; so that summer when I listened to admissions officer Daniel Grayson pitch Tufts’ School of Engineering, my eyes lit up.  He assured us that if one wanted to be an engineer and study abroad, Tufts was the place to do it. He proceeded to highlight Tufts’ mission statement of providing an invaluable education that fostered a “global perspective,” encouraging liberal arts, science, and engineering students alike to explore the world. I applied Early Decision I to Tufts under those pretenses. Two years later, however, rounding out the fall of my junior year, I cannot in good conscience advise any prospective engineering student to select Tufts if they, too, wish to study abroad.

I  am part of the Jewish tribe, a member of the Jewish race; I’m one of God’s Chosen people, blessed with the duty of being part of one of the oldest communities in the world. We’ve been persecuted, celebrated, reviled, admired, ghettoized, idolized, demonized—glorified as the defenders of freedom, vilified as the barrier to peace. I was born into an exclusive society and strengthened by its marginalization. We are a race, a culture, a religion, and a nation.

As a non-American who recently moved to America, my first impression of Thanksgiving was certainly positive—a time when American families of all religious and historical backgrounds gather to give thanks. Right?