Yael Dohn

The Best Version, Waiting in the Wings

I grew up as the youngest in a family of educators, born in Los Angeles, moved around a lot, and eventually graduated high school in the suburbs of Chicago. My plan was clear enough: study economics at University of Illinois Urbana Champaign, get into government, write economic policy. Then Covid happened in my first year, everything moved online, and suddenly I was tracking to graduate early with no internship and no particular plan.

That’s how I accidentally ended up in commercial banking.

An internship in Chicago with a mid-corporate underwriting and portfolio management team turned into a full-time offer and a development program, which took me through Massachusetts, California, and Illinois in my first year alone. I spent the next 2.5 years back in Chicago on the same team, got onto the board of the young professionals group, got more involved in the women’s and LGBTQ+ networks, and gradually realized my interests were pulling me somewhere else. I had joined underwriting to build financial literacy since my background was in economics, not finance. But with a few years under my belt, I wanted to move toward corporate relationship management. I wanted a master’s program that would take me out of the US, give me a more globalized network, and broaden how I thought about business. My first meeting with Jeroen, where we accidentally spent half an hour talking about running red lights in Los Angeles, settled it. I wanted to go to Esade.

Growing up in a large Jewish community in Los Angeles, my temple collaborated every year with one of the main Methodist churches in Hollywood to run a donation-based Christmas dinner for the unhoused population of the city. There was a meal, toys for children, pictures with Santa, and care kits. My mom ran the kitchen. My dad helped with the trucks and loading. My siblings and I helped wherever we were needed. And then the church would show up for our Purim carnival and community fundraiser in return. I looked forward to it every year. It was a central part of my childhood that shaped who I am today and. It taught me that community stretches beyond the bounds of your eyes and that coexistence is an action, not a noun.

The moments I feel most alive are at a dinner table surrounded by my favorite people. Specifically the part of the night when your belly is full, the last bottle of wine has been opened, coffee and dessert are scattered everywhere, and everyone is tired but enjoying the conversation too much to leave. I find myself looking around in those moments and feeling real gratitude. That a simple meal and some inside jokes can make you feel so loved, and make you reflect on how much love you have for the people around you.

And I think the thing that ties all of it together is the alter ego, which is Invisible but Essential for me.

Not a self-absorbed reflection of your deepest anxieties, but the version of yourself who is the most confident, outgoing, thoughtful, caring, engaged, happy, and wonderful version of all your characteristics, turned all the way up to 100%. We can’t be that person all the time. But I love the moments when I see myself and my friends tap into her. When the best version is allowed to take over and absolutely amazes the people around her. I think having that alter ego ready to take the stage is what makes for the best people and professionals. She’s always there. You just have to let her out.