I’ve always loved words. There's something so uniquely fascinating to me that seemingly simple letters can form such deep meaning. I love the beauty in knowing that what you say to someone has the potential to change their whole day for the better, to make them smile when everything seems sad.

I love words, and I also love to write. Writing heartfelt, unexpected letters to people, especially when handwritten on paper, brings me great joy. It’s the kind of joy that can only be experienced by making someone else smile. It is often much easier to write the things we have to say rather than to voice them out loud.

The world of BBYO can be a scary place when you are a brand new member. It was for me, at first. Despite this, BBYO made an impact on me from the very first program, and it took little time before I knew there were girls I needed to thank. As a scared 8th grader who thought all the seniors who I adored hated me, I didn’t yet have the confidence to simply go up to them and thank them for the impact they were making on me. Instead, I did what I knew best: I wrote them a letter. After my very first convention in the fall of my 8th grade year, the profound impact that my first separates had made on me was something I couldn’t ignore. Three of the seniors from my chapter were on regional board, and the stories they had shared left me feeling beyond grateful for my connection to them. The night our convention ended, I went home and wrote a note, raw and genuine, to all three girls. I was terrified but also felt like I needed to tell them how thankful I was, and so I did. 

Nervous out of my mind, I showed up to my next chapter program and waited until it was basically over. Finally, I forced myself to walk up to one of the girls whom I had written to. I handed her the note, timidly said, “This is for you, Zoe, and Roni” and walked away. If only I knew then how important this action would be. Eventually I received a text back. This older girl, who I thought was the coolest person ever, said that what I wrote meant so much to her. It was crazy to me that what I said mattered, that the words I had spilled out to someone I looked up to so much actually cared about what I had to say. 

I have grown a lot from the person I was that day, but the lesson I learned is something I carry with me at all times. I write notes to people everywhere, from International Board to the random girl in my chapter who made my program a little bit better, because people deserve to know the impact they have made on someone. When I lost an election and thought the world had come to an end, it was the notes I received from people that kept me looking ahead. Sending a quick thank you text to someone who made a difference in my life has often turned into a long note, but now I know it’s okay. I know that the message is better read and taken in, because you never know how badly a person needs to hear what you have to say.

How often is it that we feel like we don't matter, like we don’t make a difference in the lives of others? I know I’ve felt that way before. Recently, I had the privilege of attending the Rise UP Cohort’s Shabbaton in New York City. The people that I met and bonded with over those five days left an impact on me far beyond what I could have ever expected going into it. As the last day approached, I felt that same sense of profound gratitude filling me. I needed to say thank you to these amazing people, or else they might never know how much they had done for me. So I did. I wrote notes to a few people, and once again approached them scared and said, “Hi Hailey, this is for you. I hope you like it”, and “Bree, I wrote you this.” What surprised me in these moments was the response. Immediately, they were surprised, saying “This is for me? You wrote me a note?” I received hugs and smiles, even though no one had opened their letter yet. Sometimes just knowing that someone thought of you is the most powerful action we can take. That’s when it truly clicked for me, that what we say matters. You never know what the words you share might mean to someone else.

So, say the small things. Write the note you think won’t matter to someone, because what if it does? What if it changes their entire day? Maybe you will be the reason they don’t quit BBYO or run for board even when they think they will never win. Let this be your push to finally let someone know how much they mean to you, because at its core, BBYO only continues to thrive today because of the teens who keep going, no matter if their confidence is lost at times. Be the person who restores someone’s love for this organization, for the passion they have but may have forgotten in the moment. Always say the small things.