It was the spring of 2010. I was a junior in college, and I’d just found out that I was going to be interning at “The Daily Show with Jon Stewart” my fall semester. It was my dream come true. I jumped up and down and shouted “Yes!” over and over. I told all my family and friends, who were so proud of me. I’d worked hard and it’d paid off. I did it. I felt invincible.
I couldn’t wait for the internship to start. I figured this was probably how my meteoric rise in television would begin. I’d become a famous TV writer or something of the sort.
The first day at “The Daily Show,” I went in with a big smile on my face and a willingness to do whatever it took to get ahead.
Quickly, I learned that meant schlepping heavy groceries from the nearby gourmet market back to the studio, cutting bagels for the writers and logging and transcribing tapes all day.
My smile quickly faded as the reality set in. I was doing menial tasks for no pay and learning very little about how television actually worked. I became anxious about having to go to work and depressed that the internship hadn’t turned out like I expected. I felt isolated because I was a public university student surrounded by Ivy Leaguers. I didn’t know how to “play the game” you had to take part in if you were in show business. I floundered.
And I had no God to turn to, no faith to rely on. When the excitement faded, I had nothing to hold onto, no grounding at all.
Back then, I was an avowed atheist. I thought that everything was in my control; if something went wrong, it was my fault. If my life wasn’t good, it was because I’d put myself into that position.
I never thought, “Maybe this internship isn’t working out because I’m not meant to work in television” or “It’s OK that things are bad right now, because there could be a light at the end of this tunnel.”
It was an absolutely miserable semester. There were a few exciting moments, like when Jon Stewart said hello to me in the kitchen, and when I got to seat audience members, who were thrilled to be there. But overall, I dreaded being there and couldn’t wait for it to end.
When it was over, I celebrated, ironically enough, just like I did when I got the internship.
And just a few weeks later, I went to a comedy show on a dark winter night in Brooklyn, and I saw a cute man talking about how he had interned at “The Colbert Report” and hated it.
“No way,” I said. “I interned at ‘The Daily Show’ and hated it too.”
“I could never admit this to anyone, because everyone else seemed to love it,” he said.
“It’s such a relief to be able to say it out loud, right?”
“Yes,” he said, smiling at me.
The man’s name was Daniel, and I liked him immediately. Now, 13 years later, he’s my husband.
Today, I believe in God. I’m an observant Jew. I can see that God was at that internship every step of the way, crafting my story and helping me create a beautiful life for myself.
If I hadn’t gotten that internship and hated it, I never would have met Daniel. I probably wouldn’t have converted to Judaism. We wouldn’t have two amazing little girls. I wouldn’t have this joyous, wonderful life.
This Shavuot, I’m thankful I found God, as well as the Torah, my guidebook. It teaches me that God is in control, and to trust in Him that everything is for the best.
Surface level excitement is not always what it seems. When it goes away, what am I left with? These days, it’s real meaning: my values, my belief in God and my love for my family and friends.
Since “The Daily Show,” I’ve had many exciting career moments in my life, but all of them faded. Surface level excitement is not always what it seems. When it goes away, what am I left with?
These days, it’s real meaning: my values, my belief in God and my love for my family and friends. That’s what I turn to at the end of the day. That’s what truly matters in life.
That’s what makes life worth living.
How has the Torah changed your life? Email me at KylieOl@JewishJournal.com.
Kylie Ora Lobell is the Community Editor of the Jewish Journal.
