 and I would eat lunch alone. I didn't want to make friends, only to leave them all over again. In 10th grade, my mom urged me to apply to an internship at the Museum of Jewish Heritage. She noticed how alone I was, how hurt I was, and how desperate I looked. I was against it. I didn't want to have to talk to people. But after much persuasion, I applied. And shockingly, I got in.