WHEN I WAS NINE, my family moved from a small town in Israel to Boulder, Colorado. Coincidentally at the same time we moved, two of my best childhood friends in Israel also moved — one to Brazil and the other to Australia.

In the following years, we kept in touch via hand-written letters. As I immersed myself into a foreign culture, learning a new language and a new set of rules, their letters kept a part of me tethered to my native identity. I wrote freely without realizing these exchanges would one day inspire my love for writing.

WHEN I WAS 22, during a layover in Dallas, Texas, I told a friendly cab driver I was studying journalism and political science. He said he was a journalist before immigrating to the U.S. from Afghanistan, where the Taliban had threatened to take his life, leaving him with no choice but to flee his home. Now he was starting over, away from his family, away from his home.

“Never put the pen down,” he said as he dropped me off at the hotel. I don’t recall his name, but I’ll always recall his story and message. Words are a powerful tool.

NOW THAT I’M IN MY 30s, I continue to cherish storytelling and master its art in many forms. I strive to bridge my passion for writing with helping others.

I currently live in Seattle, Washington, and support organizations that seek to create meaningful and useful communication with their internal and external communities.

I often dream of traveling the world and writing about inspiring individuals, but for now, I value stability, education, and learning from my peers.