I Made the Game-Winning Shot… Wearing a Kippah

I grew up celebrating both winter holidays. I never gave it much thought—if anything, the double presents felt like a bonus.

My dad’s family is Hispanic and Catholic.

But as I got older, it was my Jewish grandmother who made sure we stayed connected to Jewish traditions. She’s the one who introduced me to Camp Gan Israel—and to CTeen of El Paso.

Like a real Jewish bubbie, she somehow convinced me to join the CTeen U course: Israel and Me.

Before that course, I didn’t know much about Israel—or how to speak up for it. I didn’t realize how important it was to be able to stand tall and strong when others challenge who we are.

CTeen U taught me that the best defense is actually a strong offense—not by yelling louder or fighting back harder, but by strengthening our identity. By knowing who we are. By feeling proud of it. Making excuses or responding defensively doesn’t change minds—it only deepens division.

Instead, we must show others the beauty of being Jewish.

That’s exactly who my grandmother was.

She passed away five months ago after battling cancer. After she died, we stopped doing anything Jewish. There was a silence that settled in—a kind of emptiness.

Then one Saturday morning, I decided to do something different. I walked into the synagogue. I stood in the very place she used to love so much, and something inside me shifted. I felt close to her. I felt close to my Jewish identity.

From that day on, I started wearing my Judaism more openly. Now, when I leave the house, I always wear my kippah and tzitzit. I don’t hide it anymore.

I’m in my senior season of high school basketball, and I play every game wearing my very visible kippah.

I’ll never forget one game in particular—the sixth night of Chanukah. My team was playing East Lake for the district title. The score was tied, and time was running out.

With just seven seconds left on the clock, I stepped up for a free throw. Wearing my kippah, I made the shot that won us the game. We beat them 54–53.

It was an incredible moment—not just because we won, but because I showed up for my team when they needed me most.

But I also realized something else. I’m not just on my basketball team—I’m part of another team, too. A bigger one. A Jewish one.

And when you’re part of a team, you show up. You count on each other. You train together.

Not with layups and drills—but with Torah and mitzvot.

We don’t just practice for ourselves. We represent something greater. We carry the message of Hashem into the world. And that means wearing our Jewish identity with pride—not apologizing for being different.

Sometimes the world doesn’t seem to hear us. When that happens, we amplify our voices—not with noise, but with light. Through Torah. Through kindness. Through truth.

That’s what it means to be part of this team. That’s what it means to be a Jewish ambassador in today’s world.

And if we embrace that role—if we walk in it proudly—no one will dare mess with our team.