That job gave me a powerful sense of purpose and belonging. I became friendly with many of the staff members there, like nurses, doctors and lab technicians.

Another high school student, a Puerto Rican girl from Harlem who worked in outpatient check-in, became a dear friend. On breaks we would visit one another’s departments and flirt. Every payday Friday, she and I would go out to lunch at our favorite pizza place on Second Avenue.

I fell in love with her. But that’s a whole other story. The point is that Working — with a capital W — filled me with such confidence and increased my self-esteem in such immeasurable ways that I could feel comfortable falling for a beautiful able-bodied girl.

My boss at Bellevue was Rachel, a middle-aged doctor, who talked to me as if I were an adult. She set the bar impossibly high for all of my future bosses. She was humorous and laid-back, but was also conscientious and well respected by her peers. I remember thinking that if I ever got to be someone’s boss, I’d strive to be like her.

On my last day there before having to return to school for my senior year, Rachel took me out to lunch at a popular Indian restaurant. She told me she often took new interns there. I felt special, important, appreciated. She said she would miss me and that if I wanted to return, there would be a job there for me next summer. I nodded, thinking that was exactly what I wanted. But that next summer the program gave me a different placement at the Bobst Library at N.Y.U. in the heart of Greenwich Village, placing bar codes in books.

Though the mood and responsibilities were different, the pride and sense of self-worth were the same. It gave me great satisfaction to get out of the house by 8 every morning knowing I wouldn’t be back until nightfall because I had a job. I had to be someplace where my knowledge and expertise were needed.

Even the drug dealers in my neighborhood respected me. I knew this because my building had three steps to the entrance, and every morning and night one of those dealers helped me up or down the steps. The one I was closest to would see me in the morning and say: “Gotta get Jerry to the office.”