The Community School
Proceeds of an Online Discussion
edited by Zvi Grumet
Introduction
Community non-denominational schools have been operating in the US and elsewhere for decades, but the last decade has witnessed an explosion of these institutions. Not surprisingly, perspectives on these institutions run the gamut: alternatives to Orthodox day schools (who often had large non-Orthodox student bodies), a last ditch effort to stem the tide of assimilation and intermarriage, places to infuse a new generation with a love of Jewish learning, experiments in fostering pluralistic and tolerant Jewish communities, yet another program with watered-down Jewish content and in which there are no guidelines for what's Jewishly right and wrong, environments in which Jews will establish social bonds with those whose very Jewishness is questionable.
Part of the debate revolves around the very purpose of education in general, and Jewish education in particular. Is the goal to maximize the benefit to each individual student, so that he or she can fulfill his or her unique potential, or to socialize the student into the society? Is the mission of schools to serve the best interests of its individual students or of the communities and cultures which establish them to perpetuate the values they hold precious?
It is easy to imagine the discussion, or perhaps heated debate, amongst a group of Jewish educational leaders and thinkers. Many would want to eavesdrop on such a discussion. In November 2001, the Lookstein Center for Jewish Education in the Diaspora launched Mifgashim – "an interactive e-mail list that seeks to create a community of learners respectful towards the multiplicity of voices in the field of Jewish Education. Mifgashim provides opportunities for dialogue and conversation, for listening to the other and ourselves, for sharing dilemmas and case studies, and for raising philosophical questions that will hopefully enhance one’s practice." Under the steady and thoughtful guidance of the list's moderator, veteran educator Solly Kaplinski, the list has developed into a center of vibrant and animated discussion.
Some six months after the launching of Mifgashim, an article on community high schools by Chaim Feuerman (which originally appeared in Ten Da’at, Vol. XII) was posted on the Lookstein website. Although the intent of the article was "to suggest to community schools under Orthodox Jewish auspices how they might be somewhat more inclusionary and still (possibly?) remain within halachic boundaries," and not "to convince community schools under pluralistic auspices to change their thinking or practice," it sparked a thoughtful, highly charged, and impassioned discussion. The intensity and seriousness of the discussion gave us reason to believe that others could benefit from "listening in" on it, and so we present here a slightly edited version of that conversation, that we may all become the proverbial "fly on the wall."
As is often the case with discussions, this one took on a life of its own and branched out into a number of areas. Recording and presenting such a conversation presents its own challenges. Those familiar with the workings of the Talmud know that its flow is often non-linear. Tangents and sub-discussions often interrupt the main line of thinking, and it is sometimes a page or two later that primary discussion returns – not unlike surfing the Internet, where following a link can spawn a new exploration. Our e-mail conversation presents similar challenges. Occasionally a contributor will respond to two or three previous submissions in one letter, or a private conversation between two list participants will emerge. In this collection we have chosen to try to organize the discussion both topically and chronologically. Not always is the progression from one selection to the next obvious. At some point a secondary discussion emerged, sparked by a submissions from students in the Pardes Educators Program. Responses to that were organized as a unit. Finally, although most of the discussion was of an educational nature, there was one significant submission by a Jewish lay leader as an ideological missive in support of pluralism. We present it as an addendum to the discussion.
A few principles guided the editing of this collection. The nature of e-mail and discussion lists suggests that submission are informal and conversation-like, and should not be confused with well-crafted essays carefully prepared for publication. Spellings remain as they were in the original postings, so that both American and British English are represented, and transliterations are those of the original authors. On the back pages the contributors are identified with their institutional affiliations as of the date of their submission.
Archives of past discussions of Mifgashim (as well as the other educational mailing lists of The Lookstein Center) can be found on the Lookstein website at http://www.lookstein.org/lookjed.htm. We hope that you find these pages stimulating, and encourage you to join the conversation at http://www.lookstein.org/register.htm.
Rabbi Zvi Grumet, editor
Contents
I – Jewish Community High School Education for Everyone: Really?
Counteracting Intermarriage and Assimilation- Chaim Feuerman II Community Schools- Communities of Truth:
A Challenge to Jewish Educators - Yonatan Yussman III Learning to Become a Jewish Educator in and for a Pluralistic Environment- Tamar Rabinowitz IV Addendum – In Support of Pluralism- Felix Posen
I.
JEWISH COMMUNITY HIGH SCHOOL EDUCATION FOR EVERYONE; REALLY?
Chaim Feuerman
"School Craze: Jewish High Schooling Goes Boom" reads the title of a recent article in the Jewish Daily Forward.2
The article's author, Gabriella Burman of the Forward staff, hails the proliferation of new non-Orthodox high schools, declaring that, "... No fewer than 15 such schools are due to open their doors in the next three years, increasing the total number by one-third to 45, from 30 today. Twelve of the new schools are community, or non-denominational, schools…"3
The proliferation of such community high schools is seen by the author of the Forward article as the "communal response to rising intermarriage rates and a perceived decline in Jewish affiliation."
4
This assertion finds validation in an in-depth private long distance telephone conversation that I had with two of the founders of one such community high school. In that conversation, the founders lamented the fact that many of the presumably Jewish adolescents in their community were confused as to their Jewish identity. In many instances only one of the parents of these adolescents was Jewish – often not the mother. They expressed pain over their belief that 50% of the members of the Reform and Conservative congregations in their community were not born Jewish and that the intermarriage rate in their community is 70%. Even more heartbreaking, mourned those founders, is the frequency with which even Orthodox Jewish high schoolers in their community are enrolled in prestigious Christian private schools which require all students to participate in Christian religious instruction as well as in Christian worship services.5
The results they clearly anticipate: a rise in intermarriage and a decline in Jewish affiliation. The founders of this Jewish community high school see the establishment of their school as the means by which to stem these alarming tides of Jewish self-destruction.
The Conventional Community High School Paradigm
The intentions of these noble individuals are as patently pure and selfless as their philanthropy is truly magnanimous. They are deserving of the greatest admiration and commendation. Indeed, if they were thinking in halakhic terms, they would probably consider our time to be an eit la'asot laShem, heifeiru toratekha.6
Their school, which reflects the conventional Jewish community high school paradigm in other cities, proposes to provide an educational environment for everyone – one in which all students are embraced, including those whose Jewishness is claimed by patrilineal descent; that is, whose fathers are Jewish but whose mothers are not. It specifically seeks to include Orthodox students in order to preserve the school's Jewish substance and character, the founders said. It further proposes to recruit a Judaic studies faculty of teachers from all Jewish persuasions and to offer a choice of several kinds of Jewish religious prayer services in which students may elect to participate.
A Serious Concern
I am impelled at this point to raise a serious question and concern. In view of the following considerations, do the proposed well-intentioned actions appear to carry out the noble aspirations for which I have earlier expressed admiration?7
Firstly, in spite of the professed desire to employ Jewish Studies teachers of all denominations at this community high school, Orthodox Judaic studies faculty may be excluded because many will be reluctant to teach Torah to students who are halakhically non-Jewish.8
The school, as a result, will be rendered considerably less of a "community" school than intended. If the community high school sincerely seeks to include Orthodox students in order to preserve the school’s Jewish substance and character, the inclusion of Orthodox faculty would appear to be equally desirable for the same reason!
Secondly, by accepting patrilineal descent – without proper conversion – as an indicator of Jewishness the school will only further blur the boundaries of Jewish identity rather than clarify them. Such a policy will serve to validate intermarriage rather than to stem its Jewishly self-destructive tide.
Thirdly, if a student of patrilineal descent who considers himself Jewish attends services and seeks to be counted toward the minyan or to lead the prayers or to be called to the Torah, how will the school respond? Rejecting the student's request would constitute a humiliation, while accepting it would constitute, in Orthodox terms (Conservative as well), a hypocrisy. Neither could be considered an instance of truly embracing all students.
"Thinking Out of the Box":
A Radical Departure from the Conventional Paradigm
In view of these three considerations, I propose an alternate paradigm which may appear to some to be both radical and revolutionary, but which appears to me to be entirely simple and traditional.9
The paradigm needs to be reviewed carefully by rabbinic halakhic authorities before it can be recommended for implementation, but, in concept, it sets forth four major points:
a. Orthodox, for all those who are halakhically Jewish,
b. Conversion-preparation for those who are not yet halakhically Jewish, but who wish to prepare themselves for proper conversion to Judaism;
c. Sheva Mitzvot benei Noah for all those who are not halakhically Jewish and who do not wish to convert to Judaism.10
This, then, is my Jewish community high school paradigm proposal in bare outline. Such a proposed school structure purports to embrace all students in a way that may truly help stem the Jewishly self-destructive tides of intermarriage and assimilation. At the same time it conforms better to standards of Halakhah. I repeat: The paradigm needs to be reviewed carefully by competent rabbinic halakhic authorities before it can be recommended for implementation, but it is presented here as a springboard for what I consider to be sounder thinking along the line of providing Jewish community high school education which is more realistic for everyone.
Josh Levisohn Rabbi Dr. Chaim Feuerman's article about the phenomenon of the new Community High Schools (posted on the Lookstein Center site at www.lookstein.org/resources/jewishcommunityschool.htm) warrants a response to clarify and explain this model of high school education.
Unlike the impression given by Rabbi Feuerman in his article, the mission of the Jewish community high school goes well beyond the goal of arresting intermarriage and assimilation. As in Orthodox day schools, those involved with the community schools care about creating more educated Jews; that their offspring will continue to be Jewish is an anticipated by-product of this education, but not its raison d'etre. We can hardly expect or hope for a halt in the rate of intermarriage and assimilation if our students do not learn to value and appreciate Yiddishkeit in its own right. And so we teach them Torah she-bikhtav and Torah she-beal Peh.
We teach them to look to the Tanakh for models and guidance, for national symbols and narratives, for seeing the role of God through history, for understanding the role of the people of Israel, for comprehending aspects of the relationship between man and God. We demonstrate to our students the process of interpretation, the rich heritage of commentary that
defines the Jewish approach to Scripture, the engagement with sacred texts that is inherent in our culture and identity. We explore with our students the purpose(s) underlying Jewish tradition and practice so that they might bring greater meaning to their own practices, whatever they might be. We bring our students into conversation with the great Jewish
scholars of our history, from the Tannaim in the Mishnah and the Amoraim in the Talmud to the luminaries of the middle ages to the eclectic but brilliant minds of our own times. We give them an identity as knowledgeable Jews who thirst for even greater knowledge and
understanding. We provide the basis for them to view the world through a Jewish lens and to meet the dominant culture with the counterweight of Jewish tradition and Jewish perspectives. We give our students a taste of a strong and vibrant Jewish community that does not define its territory by strict denominational guidelines and we hope that they take this vision and commitment out into whatever communities they find themselves. We inculcate ideals of social justice and community activism in terms of Jewish values of Chessed, Tsedakah, and Tikkun Olam. We nurture a love for the land of Israel and a passionate support for the state. We teach them, in short, to be Jewish.
Do we always succeed with this long list of objectives? Probably not as much as we would like, but that is not the point. This is our intention, and to the extent that we don't measure up to our ideals, we strive to do better the next time around. But our focus is on creating such
knowledgeable, thinking, committed and passionate Jews. As you can see, it is not possible nor fair to summarize this mission as a desperate attempt to halt the slide towards intermarriage and assimilation. And if, indeed, it is in the minds of some (perhaps many) of our parents, then I applaud their attempt to combat intermarriage through real Jewish
education rather than through some half-hearted and meaningless guilt-trip.
There is a further point that I believe needs to be addressed. In describing his "serious concern" with the current model of the community high school, Rabbi Feuerman focuses exclusively on the issue of students of patrilineal descent. As difficult and thorny as this issue might be in theory, it is of very minor impact on the school on a daily basis. If I understand the demographics correctly, the numbers of students of patrilineal descent in the schools that admit them (at least one community high school does not) is exceedingly small and the schools do not take a stand as to their Jewishness, per se. Instead, their acceptance is a
result of the inclusiveness of these schools, which open their doors to all Jews who identify with the mainstream denominations, including Reform. I concede that the Reform movement's decision with regard to patrilineal descent is of real concern to halakhically observant Jews; however, I also affirm that as a practical matter in the schools themselves, the issue is a minor one (in some places it is almost non-existent), and thus to place in question the schools' legitimacy on this basis is entirely misleading and, in my mind, invalid. It is also a red herring to be concerned about the representation of Orthodox Jews on the faculty. Again, as a practical matter, self-identified Orthodox Jews dominate the Judaica faculties of the community high schools, and they are no more worried about the possibility that they might be teaching Torah to a non-Jew than is any rabbi who lectures in front of an open audience. If anything, the problem in the community high schools lies in the difficulty
in attracting non-Orthodox teachers, a topic for another discussion, perhaps.
Community high schools provide an alternative to Orthodox day schools and, for the most part, attract students who would otherwise not go to a Jewish day school. There are many who will find halakhic problems in the community high school system – that is certainly their right, and they are free to steer clear of these schools, either as teachers or as students.
The pluralistic setting is also not appropriate for everyone. I don't believe that the leaders of community high schools claim to be the best option for all Jews, regardless of halakhic or ideological commitment. And I don't expect many Orthodox rabbis to advocate community schools over Orthodox day schools – they may even disagree with the very mission of
the community day schools. At the same time, I think it is only fair to judge these schools on their own merits and by their own mission. They have earned that right and deserve that respect.
(The views expressed above are my own, and do not necessarily represent the views of others involved in community high schools.)
I Esther Krauss I applaud Josh Levisohn for an articulate and inspiring description of the mission of community schools. While as Jewish educators we share common goals, it is incumbent upon us to consider our various constituencies and strategize how to reach them ba'asher heim sham. That is true not only between schools but even within each school. A monolithic approach to Jewish education is like teaching to the middle of the class academically. Not only do we lose the extremities but we don't service the middle adequately either. Differentiated instruction applies not only to academics but to all facets of education.
I Jack Bieler Regarding the discussion of a pluralistic Jewish educational environment, it seems to me that another important variable that has to enter into the discussion is the age of the students in question. What is appropriate for a graduate student may not be for someone who is younger – how much younger can also be a matter open for discussion.
An educational goal and commonplace is identity formation for the student, and one can wonder whether Jewish identity formation is best served in every context by offering a myriad of possibilities and positions. While intellectually it might appear that this is the most equitable arrangement, the literature dealing with cognitive dissonance, particularly as it
relates to the day school environment, i.e. some students have difficulty in moving back and forth in terms of Judaic and general studies curricula, assumptions, approaches, mechanical operations, etc., raises the question of whether the environment is rendered all the more confusing when multiple versions of practice, belief and approach are offered?
The extremes are easily made straw men, i.e., too many possibilities or only a single one. What sort of reasonable balance is to be struck that will broaden students and yet avoid confusing them to the point where they will see no need for or be incapable of making personal commitments?
I Gary Levine The community school, which seems to be a relatively recent structure in North America, has actually existed de facto for generations. Historically, most schools in North America were founded by Orthodox Jews, who were most committed to providing Judaic education for their children. However – especially in Jewish communities of limited size – the Orthodox population could not underwrite financially nor sustain numerically the ongoing needs of the schools. These schools therefore engaged in considerable outreach to the less Orthodox to provide money and students to make the schools viable. These schools ended up being, then, Orthodox by constitution but Community by demography.
They served as a fair model for a school of communal population and a certain pluralistic acceptance, albeit a begrudging one, of the need to accommodate a rather broader constituency and to offer at least nominal respect across religious lines.
Where these schools differed from what we think of as a community school today is that their philosophies were not formally pluralist, and this was clearly understood by all those in attendance. A parent could not question the right of a teacher to define religious practice from a strictly Orthodox perspective, although a teacher who would be overly aggressive or
offensive in his/her presentation might be admonished by the school administration for “political” insensitivity.
Within the last several years, schools espousing a formal policy of pluralism and inclusiveness, have opened in many cities on the continent, and schools that already exist have grown. How much of this is due to a rising appreciation of the educational excellence of Jewish schools; how much to fear of the deterioration of public schools; how much to a sudden, desperate hope that Jewish education will be the successful bulwark against
the deluge of intermarriage and assimilation – all of this is open to speculation and to that ethereal game of statistical interpretation.
The question that I would like to consider here briefly is that of the opportunities and limitations of a school which is, by its own definition, “a community school”. By dedicating itself openly to serve the broad range of the community, such a school is positioning itself to offer a service to the community that more narrowly affiliated schools could not offer. This is both exciting and liberating, but, at the same time, it poses challenges, which the more parochial day schools did not have to face.
The central question in the community school is not, as some have suggested, whose Judaism to teach; by self-definition, the community school is teaching everybody’s Judaism. The central question is actually how to teach everybody’s Judaism without, on the one hand, offending this group or that group or, on other hand, teaching as little as possible to avoid
offending anyone. Balancing on this swinging tightrope is no mean feat.
I have had the privilege over almost thirty years of working in a community school which has successfully served the broad range of the community while maintaining standards of excellence in a comprehensive study of Judaica. While there are many elements that have gone into this success – extremely able and dedicated administration and staff, a supportive and dedicated lay board, centralised funding of the Jewish community, a living wage to
teachers – I would suggest that the pedagogic approach which has allowed an exhaustive, professional academic study of Judaism – religion, history, sources, language, etc. – has been the teaching of Judaism as an objective comparative religion course. Teaching about rather than teaching to.
In our school, which successfully allows place and validity for all streams of Judaism – more successfully, I believe, than any other institution in the community – we avoid declaring any view factually wrong by declaring no view factually right. We allow and we applaud individuals' personal commitments, but we allow no personal commitment to claim to be "the correct one" and permit no commitment to be attacked as "the wrong one". A
teacher, and, indeed, any student, is free to note what his/her practice or belief is as a statement of personal choice, but not as a suggested template for the practices or beliefs or anyone else.
The price we pay is that, while we hope to influence students toward positive affiliations with a broad sense of Jewish tradition and Jewish value, we make no demands, we require no struggle, we seek no spiritual epiphany. We sacrifice the critical for the sake of the communal. That the sacrifice of the critical is, in some very important way, a sacrifice of
something fundamental in the educational process is just the way it has to be, a compromise with the ideal in order to make the process workable.
Sacrifices happen in the real world. And I believe the price is worth paying. It leads to tolerance and respect and the important skill of focusing on what brings us together rather than what pulls us apart.
But the rewards are far greater than that. Certainly, our approach leads to a sense of camaraderie and an understanding that Judaism encompasses a variety of views. It allows for the in depth study of all aspects of Judaism without the feeling that this information imposes a requirement of personal commitment. A student does not, for instance, feel that an
exhaustive study of the development of the laws of Shabbat places upon him/her the obligation to keep Shabbat in any particular way – or at all, for that matter. It may be taken as an intellectual study for its own sake, like art history or the geography of Finland.
One of the very positive outcomes of this approach, aside from the accumulation of significant knowledge regarding Judaism, is an appreciation gained over time for the academic integrity of Jewish knowledge: in-depth study demonstrates that Judaism is more than picturesque folklore; it is an area of intellectual achievement no less complex or worthy than science, math, philosophy or world history. An overview, however heuristic, of our
graduates over thirty-five years shows us community leaders on all sides of the community, ongoing commitment to Jewish life (defined broadly) and a pride in Jewish knowledge and affiliation.
In this day and age, when “religious pluralism” is mentioned in many federations and school board rooms with the hushed awe that was once reserved for the night of Kol Nidre, my personal concern is largely for what we are tempted to leave out in order to avoid problems in the building of community consensus. Several months ago, when Chief Rabbi Jonathan Sacks visited Toronto, he commented to day school principals how pleased he was to see the high level of Hebrew language in many of the schools since, he said, it was largely a battle that had been lost in Great Britain.
Hebrew language was simply no longer a significant part of the curriculum. We are hearing of more and more schools across our own continent where Hebrew, certainly as the modern spoken language of Israel, but even as the primary tool of the study of classic Judaic text, is being sacrificed to the need to keep the broad range of parents comfortable in the inclusive
community school.
Some years ago, when I had the opportunity to work with a group of students from a large, established day school on another continent, I noted with some alarm that the Judaic knowledge of students who had been through nine years of Jewish day school was alarmingly limited. Brief investigation turned up the fact that this school was limiting its Judaica classes to three or four a week, so as to reduce the pressure on students, most of whose parents were more interested in a school for Jews than a Jewish school.
The growing support for community schools should encourage us, of course, but it must also challenge us to lead our communities and not simply to follow paths of least resistance. It is not enough to sit Jews together in a classroom and to thereby declare assimilation defeated. We need to demonstrate to our students that Judaism is body of knowledge to be respected, to be admired, not simply tolerated as the price for being in the private school.
The community school is an opportunity to reach children, families, communities that we have never had before. It may well be the opportunity to combat assimilation head-on that its supporters claim it will be; but only if we lead our communities to utilise this opportunity as a true educational crusade and not simply as another painless band-aid in multi-coloured packaging.
Nor can we hide behind “community definitions” or ”parental focus groups” or “initial compromises until we build up our population base”. We are the educators, and, while we must certainly work with our lay leadership and our parent body, we must also be willing to take the lead in building our educational structures, in defining our educational structures. We must insist on serving as full partners and not simply as employees.
That is our job.
I Paul Shaviv I have often observed that at CHAT the words 'Orthodox – Conservative – Reform' are barely heard in school from year to year (except when we have visitors, or in an academic context). In our school life, they appear to have little interest for students or staff. This is mirrored in the community behaviour; most Jews seem unconcerned by denominations. Much more
relevant, accepted and indeed useful is Dennis Prager's distinction between "serious and non-serious Jews". The problem with this – one of the problems with this – is that we are essentially educating students to attend synagogues that don't exist – where a girl can sit in a mixed shiur, and study Gemara-Rashi-Tosfot-Rishonim with an impeccably Orthodox
Talmid Chacham, in fluent Ivrit.
I Michael Cohen February 10, 2002
Paul Shaviv (Headmaster) and Gary Levine (Vice Principal) of the Community Hebrew Academy of Toronto, paint a fascinating picture of a well functioning, pluralistic community school model in which denominational divisions are blurred and, to all intents and purposes, non-existent.
I am thus curious to know whether the school, given its non-prescriptive Jewish philosophy, enrolls Gentile students and/or students who are not halachically Jewish, and whether educational professionals affiliated to Reform, Conservative or Reconstructionist congregations may serve as Jewish Studies' faculty members – and here I include non-Orthodox ordained male and female rabbis.
Does the school define itself as Orthodox? Traditional? Would such a school – given the "variety of views" and "in-depth study" to which Gary Levine refers – countenance egalitarian, daily minyanim, a chazanit to lead the daily t'fillah, and, say, the teaching of
the Documentary Hypothesis or views of the doctrine of Torah Mi-Sinai which run counter to those of normative Orthodoxy?
I would find a comparison of the CHAT model and the variety of South African and Australian community Jewish day school models interesting, and would thus value a response from Paul Shaviv and Gary Levine.
I Michael Cohen and Paul J. Shaviv I Aryeh J. Geiger May 20, 2002
The Re’ut community was created with the express purpose of responding to what we felt to be Israel’s most pressing needs. This list of needs includes the following:
Creating a pluralistic community where people of all streams of Judaism can learn together. This is done by assuring that, on the one hand, no one need feel defensive as to the levels of religiosity, while at the same time enabling those who wish to pursue a more practising religious way of life to be allowed to do so.
Creating a community in which pluralism is practised and taught not only through particular Jewish values, but also through a more universal approach. For example, the idea of studying Japanese, Italian, Sign Language, Amharic, French or Spanish (besides the required study of
Arabic), is carried out so as to give young people a recognition that other cultures, religions and ways of life exist. Our practice of including people from all socio-economic strata and with various special needs (what others call disabilities), this too is a way of doing pluralism and not just wording it.
Some think it “cute” that students at Re’ut can meditate before prayer or do Tai Chi, or run, or cook, paint and more. The idea is that prior to prayer, one works on connecting or hitchabrut. In general we feel that prayer needs to be worked on. This reflects not only our attitude that prayer can be made relevant if worked at but more important, that one of
the schools central missions is enabling people to pursue a personal spiritual quest while at school. Yes, we believe that one of the most important issues facing all schools, religious, secular, unaffiliated, is that children must be allowed to learn the tools of pursuing a path to
their own spirituality and they must be given the space to do so. This is indeed “school business”. If adults create a non-judgmental environment, with love and freedom to err and grow, children will be happy to explore their spiritual growth.
Our path at Re’ut has been to try to work on the notion that Torah is to be done much more than taught. Thus, the soup kitchen, the volunteerism in women’s shelters, with the elderly, cerebral palsy and so much more. Doing Torah means that one recognizes that differences amongst people are situated on a continuum and that everyone is potentially healthy or not,
mentally well or not, etc. We are not only a microcosm of society but in fact must learn that society, as a whole exists within each individual. Thus working on social justice and bettering the planet reflects a commitment to do Torah first and accompany that with teaching and knowledge.
Yes, Re’ut like many schools, is committed to excellence in education as well. We have found that given top-notch teachers, enabling students to pursue their passion, and giving children the freedom to learn and control their destiny, all this makes it possible to succeed and excel. Yet above all else, we are committed to maintain a community that sees the pursuit of excellence in values education as a top priority.
While I have spelled out some of the basic ideas or the mission of Re’ut, it would be misleading to think that Re’ut was created with the sole purpose of serving its own student population. Indeed, this is not the case at all. From its very inception, Re’ut saw as part of its mission the creation of an alternative educational stream in Israeli education. The Re’ut community, parents, teachers, students and its many supporters in Israel and abroad, all recognize the urgent need to alter the status quo within the Israeli educational school system. We are caught in the schism of secular (Mamlachti) education that is often too paranoid to enable Judaism and Jewish spirituality into the school fearing coercion and close-mindedness. On the other side is religious (Mamlachti Dati) education often expending great energy in maintaining its own identity, on sensing or expressing an ownership for the “right path” having thus kept others estranged to pursue their spiritual path within Judaism.
It is not our intention at all to spend energy being critical of others. Clearly, each stream has a right to feel as they do and educate in a way they see best derived of their own concerns and past experience. Yet it is the Re’ut community’s belief that it is time to pursue a third alternative, a State Pluralistic School System. Our objective is to show that Jews from
all streams of Judaism can study together. Certainly, it is more than possible for schools of different persuasions to function within the same school system while maintaining their own autonomy. Instead of spending so much time defending our different identities (whether out of fear or elitism), the time is ripe to create school environments that bring together children of all backgrounds on an ongoing basis. We do not need to just meet in the army, but must confront our uniqueness and commonalities on a day-to-day basis.
As this article is being written, parents in Raanana, Hodayot, Rechovot, Shoham, but to mention a few, are all considering alternative pluralistic schools. All these parental groups are made of parents from all the streams and of differing perspectives. There is indeed a growing understanding that the model Re’ut represents (with numerous variations) is indeed worth
replicating. While we have no interest in establishing a chain of schools or being a force of this type, we are encouraged that others have the courage to seek such alternatives.
Considering the current situation in the country, I would be remiss were I not to mention one final aspect of the Re’ut vision. We are a community of ardent “leftists” and “rightists”, and of course of those in between. We have students and their families who are totally committed to realizing their Zionism through the settlement of the West Bank and all of Biblical Israel. We have students and their families who believe that territorial compromise is a must and even those who feel that the settlement of the West Bank was a travesty. We have it all not only religiously but politically as well. We do not have uniform, knee-jerk responses to every
terrorist attack and to every event. We have a plethora of perspectives.
As difficult as this may seem, this is a dream come true. For we have the opportunity to educate towards models for dealing with conflict. The models deal with conflict resolution not only with stated enemies but also in dealing with conflict within us. We have a chance to educate children in confronting the complexities of our reality and looking at ways of dealing
with complex moral issues that lack clarity or certainty. This is done with much compassion, love, respect of others, and a deep recognition of the rights of those who think differently than oneself.
Re’ut is far from perfect. We have much to learn and improve upon. We are committed to pursue a path of growth. This we are committed to do by maintaining ourselves as a truly pluralistic community, made up of young people and adults, who believe that, together, one can create a spiritual, loving environment that can be of benefit to itself and others as well.
II Community Schools – Communities of Truth :11 Yonatan Yussman
August 5 2002
"Jewish education is the great failure of contemporary Jewish life," writes Professor Barry Chazan of The Hebrew University. I would add to that indictment our failure in keeping the Jewish people together. There is an urgent need for Jewish community educators to discuss how we can create an educational institution which a) successfully brings together students and teachers from across the Jewish spectrum, and b) teaches in such a way that engages and stimulates all Jews, no matter what their background. In this article, I attempt to raise some critical questions which must be answered to create such a school, and will humbly offer some suggestions of my own.
In order to come up with solutions, we first need to determine how we reached this crisis. I would suggest that we no longer share the common Jewish frameworks that we did in our past, such as the centrality of Halacha, Bible and Talmud. The language of both agreement and disagreement used to be a shared language, but no longer. I think the solution is to recreate that shared language again, to build a common framework again. That must be our mission, and one of the driving forces behind any Jewish community school.
We must also discuss how to determine the boundaries of educational institutions, which try to attract such a wide spectrum of Jews. I believe that each community is entitled to define who and what they are not. This requires that they set limits and determine who is 'in' and who is 'out'. Schools need not be based upon unanimous agreement about religion and Halacha. Then again, Jewish communities never have been. Rather, the boundaries which define this type of school must be certain shared values and standards of evaluation, and agreed-upon rules of respectful argument.
We must also think about the challenges that arise from pluralistic Jewish education. Specifically, with all of the varieties of Judaism represented under one roof, how does one prevent such a school from becoming relativistic? Are we in fact currently teaching relativism or pluralism in our community day schools. Gary Levine's statements in previous issues of Mifgashim, I contend, are good examples of an undesirable relativistic approach to Jewish education. He writes:
In our school, which successfully allows place and validity for all streams of Judaism – more successfully, I believe, than any other institution in the community – we avoid declaring any view factually wrong by declaring no view factually right. We allow and we applaud individuals' personal commitments, but we allow no personal commitment to claim to be "the correct one" and permit no commitment to be attacked as "the wrong one". A teacher, and, indeed, any student, is free to note what his/her practice or belief is as a statement of personal choice, but not as a suggested template for the practices or beliefs or anyone else.
We must define the differences between relativism and pluralism. I would suggest that pluralism argues there is no one single authoritative truth, that one objective reality may be interpreted in different but equally valid ways. This differs from relativism where one’s beliefs reflect the truest interpretation of Judaism while simultaneously respectfully recognizing that all Jews do not hold this position. A pluralist would argue that Reform, Conservative, and Orthodox Judaism are equally valid ways of understanding and practicing Judaism. One might disagree with the practice of another, but not argue that the other's practice is false or invalid.
I challenge us to consider whether or not pluralism, as described above, excludes Orthodoxy. Orthodoxy can acknowledge and even celebrate many kinds of diversity and pluralism: pluralism of other faiths, and pluralism in how to interpret a biblical passage, among others. But it cannot be asked to acknowledge halachic pluralism. To legitimize non-halachic movements is to delegitimize Orthodoxy itself.
Likewise, I challenge us to consider whether or not inclusivist models of Jewish education exclude non-Orthodoxy. Inclusivism holds that there is only one truth, but that the 'other view' is to be somehow included. In terms of Judaism, an Orthodox Jew might believe that he holds the single truth, but that Reform Jews are making excusable errors, and therefore may be 'included' in the faith community. I would argue that pluralism is as unacceptable to Orthodox Jews as inclusivism is to Reform Jews.
We must also discuss how we should approach these issues of pluralism in the school itself. Are high school students mature enough to handle pluralistic models of Jewish education? By ignoring these pluralistic issues, by not teaching students how to think critically and make reasoned judgments about issues of pluralism, the school ignores deeply important issues concerning the Jewish people.
In addition, it’s a farce to think that these issues won’t come up outside of school. No matter who the student is, no matter how Orthodox he or she might be, the student will be exposed to the ideologies of non-Orthodox Judaism. Therefore the question is not whether the students will deal with these issues, but whether the student will deal with them in a respectful, thoughtful, critical, balanced way.
Furthermore, by putting these issues at the forefront of the school’s conscience, it provides the opportunity to teach how to dialogue in a positive and respectful way with someone who has differing opinions. This is a prime way to give students practice at discussing controversial issues in a positive way, something which they can take with them as a crucial life skill wherever and whoever they are.
We must also consider whether the schools we are creating are doing more to increase divisive denominationalism than to get rid of it. Are we unnecessarily encouraging denominational differences? I think we need to be realistic: Denominations are never going to vanish, no matter how many non-denominational schools there are. Orthodoxy will always exist, and non-Orthodox movements will always exist, and they will never “join up” to form one unified, common denomination. Furthermore, despite the fact that denominations may have little interest for some Jews, it is painfully obvious that divisive denominational differences are one of the central problems afflicting the Jewish people today. Thus, it is naive and perhaps irresponsible to ignore denominational differences in the school.
We must also ask whether it is wise to promote yet another denomination (i.e., "post-denominationalism" or "non-denominationalism") in the school. Are we educating our students to join a Jewish community that, with extremely rare exceptions in the world, does not exist?
I suggest that we should use the current denominations to fight divisive denominationalism. We should be educating our students to be proud and knowledgeable members of whichever denomination they belong to, but at the same time to love and respect Jews of different denominations. We must do this in a realistic and responsible way, which means giving our students the knowledge and skills to succeed in the existing (divided) Jewish world, and at the same time the tools and confidence to change it and make it a unified Jewish world. That’s the “new Jew” I want my students to be.
Clearly, enabling Conservative, Reform, Orthodox, and "Other" Jews to learn from each other in the same institution is a daunting task. It is also a challenge to reach students who have little or no background at all in Judaism and Torah learning. We must articulately construct our school environments in such a way which will allow that cross-denominational encounter to take place without offending anyone's beliefs or feelings, and which will engage and stimulate those students who are both new to serious Jewish learning and those with more of a background.
To reiterate, I think that the root of the problem is that we no longer have a common language, and that the mandate of any community school must be to recreate that shared spiritual language of common values which all of the Jews in the school can use to speak to, learn from, and relate to each other. Basing the school around the shared spiritual language common values is, as Professor Michael Rosenak of the Hebrew University writes, "the language of Judaism most plausibly and effectively conveyed to non-committed pupils…”12 and I believe the best method of bringing the denominations together, and of educating all of the students in the school, no matter what their background.
Each community must therefore define the values that their community school will rest upon, around which their school will meet, and through which their students will learn. I suggest that we consider emphasizing the following ten values: the utter centrality of Jewish unity (Klal Yisrael) and Jewish love (2) (Ahavat Yisrael). As Rabbi Eliezer Berkovitz has written, "to work for Jewish unity in the spirit of Ahavat Yisrael, love for every Jew, in the interest of Klal Yisrael, the reality of the totality of the Jewish people, is an urgent demand of Torah-realization." Accordingly, we must also endeavor to make Israel a dynamic and living force in the lives of each student, to make Israel "speak" to every student in a personal and compelling way, and encourage the students to visit and think about living in Israel.
Respect (3) (kevod habriyot) and responsibility (4) (kol yisrael aravim zeh b’zeh) must also be central values in the school. Rabbi Joseph Soloveitchik suggested that two covenants bind the Jewish people: the covenants of fate and destiny. The covenant of fate states that all Jews share historical events, all Jews share suffering, all Jews share responsibility, and all Jews share actions (such as political action to save other Jews). The concept of a covenant of fate gives religious dignity to all Jews. It suggests that our arguments must be argued out in the framework of a shared community, rather than rejecting the other as an enemy. It suggests that all Jews have obligations towards each other. The school community must also be based upon the covenant of destiny, which reflects a chosen, voluntary commitment to the dreams, values, and goals of the Jewish people. The school must strive to be a community of shared spiritual goals and covenantal spiritual aspirations.
Diversity (5) (shivim panim latorah) must be another central value. Our Sages in the Talmud asserted that each individual is physically unique and at the same time a replica of Adam, who in turn was fashioned in the image of God. They also affirmed that each individual is intellectually and spiritually unique. Furthermore, they declared that the inevitable disagreements stemming from these legitimate differences of opinion, when for the sake of Heaven, are constructive in nature. Thus, our Sages teach us that Jews exist in a physical, intellectually, and spiritually pluralistic community. We differ, by divine purpose, in our outlooks and attitudes, and when we ignore or suppress our differences, we suppress the greatness of God. Our differences of opinion, and the debates and discussions over them, are to be respected and celebrated as revelations of God's greatness.
As mentioned earlier, we should be careful that this theological diversity does not turn into theological relativism. Rabbi David Hartman writes, “My desire is to speak to all Jews. This does not mean that if I speak to them, I legitimate them. What an absurd idea: that if I speak to a secular kibbutznik it means I agree with secular Zionism … Theological diversity within the Jewish community would encourage the development of communities founded on conviction, knowledge, and choice.”13 Chancellor of Bar Ilan University, Rabbi Emanuel Rackman has written, "I have no argument with anyone who does not share my religious commitment... I welcome their challenge. My Judaism only becomes richer as I encounter challenges from other cultures." “It is always healthful for centrist, moderate groups to have fringe groups to the right and to the left that they may better fix for themselves the point that is the center."
It is also crucial that Torah (6) be placed at the center of the school. In the words of Rabbi Hartman: "Condition number one for taking a tradition seriously is being invited to participate in the discussion that is that tradition."14 "[Students] must be made aware of the rich diversity of approaches to taamei hamitzvot in the tradition..."
Thus, the core classes must be the Bible and Talmud classes. This is where students would see the debates between Rashi and Ramban over how to interpret a line of Bible. This is where students would see the dialogue between Hillel and Shammai on issues of law. This is where they would see that unanimous agreement is not what makes up a community, it is the ability to set standards of argument. When they open up the Talmud, or study from a Mikraot Gedolot, they will see the example of our ancestors who shared particular religious values and standards of evaluation, and who argued in a respectful way over religious issues. Via agreed-upon rules and a process of persuasion and consensus, they favored some answers over their alternatives. It would make these facts come alive for the students to have students and teachers in the school who represent a diverse range of interpretation, and can emulate the Jewish community model of the Talmud and the Biblical interpreters.
Another value that should be emphasized is that a religiously committed person can live with inner conflict and in a state of contradiction (7), i.e., a religiously committed person can struggle spiritually and intellectually. It's okay to doubt ourselves – having faith is not easy. We must help our students with their doubts by providing them with tools that will help them work through their struggles.
Rabbi Rackman:
Perhaps, like Socrates, I corrupt youth but I do teach that Judaism encourages questioning even as it joins faith and commitment. A Jew dare not live with absolute certainty, not only because certainty is the hallmark of the fanatic and Judaism abhors fanaticism, but also because doubt is good for the human soul, its humility, and consequently its greater potential ultimately to discover its Creator...To doubt is natural, to deny is sin.15 Additionally, teaching which does not encourage commitment (8) is a critical educational mistake. As Professor Barry Chazan has written,
Non-indoctrinary religious education does not imply neutral, 'intellectual', or non-committed religious education. On the contrary, the non-indoctrinary religious educator must be committed to some belief, and must appear so in his student's eyes... One of the basic principles [religious schools teach] is that the religious life implies and demands commitment. Further, we must think about how we will encourage this commitment. I would suggest that students not be pressured to choose their religious commitments on the spot, and to keep them for the rest of their lives. One of the main goals of this school is a long-term one, which is to help enable the students to one-day make decisions for themselves.
The value of individuality (9) must also be central. Most of these Jews will not see Judaism as authoritative or persuasive. How do we reach them? I think the answer is that Jewish educators need to change the language they speak. For example, being "chosen" carries negative connotations in today's society, and I cannot blame anyone from shying away from that description. But being "chosen" is not a gift or a privilege or a sign of being better. It is a responsibility that must be lived up to. Other bitter tasting ideas that need to be better articulated are the suggestions that Jews do not respect the truths of other religions, being part of the community yet not losing one's individuality, and the seeming conflict between freedom and obligation.
It almost goes without saying that the school must be committed to the value of excellence in education (10). Our teachers, materials, courses offered, and facilities must all be top-notch, and must enable the students to succeed and excel according to the standards of the top high schools in the nation.
Additionally, we need to find ways to allay the fears of parents of sending their children to such a diverse environment, how the teachers and students and community will be able to handle such a demanding educational model, and we must try to emphasize that learning and Judaism takes place all around us, all the time. The school must extend itself into sports, breaks in between classes, Shabbatot, weekend parties, and so on.
As Parker Palmer has written, "En route to a new pedagogy, there will be days when we serve our students poorly, days when our guilt only deepens. To counteract guilt, I need at least two things: a rationale for what I am doing when I open a learning space…and an understanding of the skillful means required to keep such a space open." It is my hope that this article provides us with some of the raw material to open up a learning space and to create a community of truth in the Judaics classroom of Jewish community schools.
II Gary Levine I am grateful for the opportunity to offer some brief comment on Yonatan Yussman's far-reaching article. Indeed, the breadth of Yonatan's presentation calls for a discussion forum of its own to investigate, analyze and struggle with many of the educational challenges he raises for us. I apologise for offering these few comments in point form below and not in the
more organized essay form that his work deserves, but it is summertime . . .
1. I am particularly – and pragmatically – interested in the categorization Yonatan offers for approaches to Jewish education. Like him, I have found a pluralist approach difficult to accept for both the theological and pedagogical reasons he suggests. I had not realized that the approach which I described, and which he quotes, falls under the category of a "relativistic" approach. I might argue that an approach which holds that a given belief system within Judaism "reflects the truest interpretation of Judaism", as Yonatan suggests, is relative only in that Yonatan has chosen to use a relative word, "truest", in describing the approach, rather than an absolute word, "true". But I quibble. I accept that I have championed a "relativistic" approach for the community school.
Yonatan has, however, found the relativist approach inappropriate for the community school model. "Gary Levine's statements in Mifgashim (1:12), I would argue, are good examples of an undesirable relativistic approach to Jewish education."
I do not wish to argue here that he is incorrect in his evaluation, but, rather, that I do not understand from his article what exactly there is about the relativistic approach which is in conflict with his vision for the day school.
He calls for us to, "be educating our students to be proud and knowledgeable members of whatever denomination they belong to, but at the same time to love and respect Jews of different denominations," and to, "construct our school environments in such a way that will allow that cross-denominational encounter to take place without offending anyone's beliefs or feelings." He calls for a "shared spiritual language of common values," and for, "specific,
rigorous, measurable and manageable academic standards."
I need elaboration from Yonatan as to what there is in the relativistic approach I have outlined which is contradiction or opposition to the model he forwards. Indeed, the only way in which we can achieve pride in individual denominational commitment and respect for Jews of different denominational commitment seems to me to be in an institutional system which does not formally embrace any one denomination and in which (to quote myself shamelessly), "we allow and we applaud individuals' personal commitments, but we allow no personal commitment to claim to be 'the correct one' and permit no commitment to be attacked as 'the wrong one'."
Not only can I not understand why Yonatan sees this approach as antithetical to his model and "undesirable", I cannot understand clearly what alternative approach he is proposing that will better serve the goals and values of his model.
I do not know if he means it to be so, but Yonatan's warning that "we should be careful that theological diversity does not turn into theological relativism" is not an argument against the relativistic approach. The theological relativism he speaks of would suggest that, in an effort to get along with all Jews, I would eschew personal commitment that would separate me from all Jews. He is quite right to find such a theology self-defeating. But the relativistic approach does not defend such a belief. On the contrary, it suggests – quite in line with Yonatan's quotation from Rabbi Hartman – that I take pride in my own commitment and applaud the
"theological diversity within the Jewish community (that) would encourage the development of communities founded on conviction, knowledge, and choice."
In short, then, I don't understand what Yonatan finds unacceptable in what he has termed my "relativistic approach" or what exactly he is proposing in its place which better suits his model. I look forward to Yonatan's clarification of this question.
2. I certainly agree that a Jewish school needs to be founded on spiritual values, and one cannot but applaud all ten of the values that Yonatan presents. I would ask, though, about an organizational structure for these values. The differing views in Mishnaic times of midot shehaTorah nidreshet bahen is, similarly, not a question of how many midot are actually used hermeneutically, but, rather, how the taxonomy should be envisioned, how the many methods should be understood as parts of a clearer structure. Yehuda, Yisachar and Zevulun all camped to the East, but under whose flag?
This is more than hair-splitting; it is a question of the school's defining of its vision. The school needs not only values, but also a clear, central value system to guide it. The ten values listed are certainly to be included, but what is the thematic structure? A school in which the values of Ahavat Yisrael and Klal Yisrael are conceived of as within the category of Torah, for instance, has a different vision that that of a school in which Torah and Ahavat Yisrael are within the category of Klal Yisrael.
As interesting and necessary as the listing of relevant values may be, I think there is a useful exercise to be undertaken in organizing these values into a taxonomy that defines the ethos of the school.
3. Yonatan makes a good case for defining Bible and Talmud as the core classes. I would add Hebrew language as a necessary core course. It is not simply that a concern with the State of Israel is a common, unifying element for all the denominational groups that populate our schools. More importantly, it is not possible to teach Bible and Talmud on the level of
excellence which we require without being able to deal with primary source texts. Without a strong Hebrew ability, our student cannot study Bible and Talmud; they can only study about Bible and Talmud.
It could be argued that Biblical and Talmudic Hebrew requirements do not require a separate course in Hebrew, and certainly not in Modern Hebrew. Yeshivot have, for centuries, successfully taught Bible and Talmud on the highest level, developing erudition in comprehension of the classical language while holding discussions in Yiddish or Ladino or English. That argument is valid, and, for schools that do not see a concentration on Modern Israel Language and Literature or Conversational Hebrew as goals to be served, the concentration on classical Hebrew can be undertaken as part of the Bible or Talmud curriculum. But we should then formally build into the curricula of these courses expectations for the development of expertise in the classical language.
I conclude by again expressing my appreciation to Yonatan Yussman for offering us ideas well worth our consideration. I look forward to reading the discussion that his work is bound to generate.
II Michael Gillis Yonatan Yussman's paper on pluralism and Jewish education is constructive, thoughtful and an optimistic contribution.
I am not sure that he squares the circle of Orthodoxy and pluralism or the problem of pluralism and relativism. The best I could do here was that pluralism is the belief that there are multiple perspectives on the truth which is out there while relativism sees truth itself as a human construct and therefore always relative to the humans who construct it. I am not sure
how much difference there is here as even if the truth is out there pluralism asserts that we can only have it through our interpretations which are equally good. The truth itself is never grasped.
I wonder if as educators we have to solve these philosophical conundrums – which is not to say we should ignore them.Clearly there are people out there who are party hacks for this denomination or another whose job it is to promote their own party and denigrate all others. This seems a bit old-fashioned nowadays.
As educators we have the opportunity in our teaching and in other aspects of our work to see how far we can go without ideological and theological issues being a problem. The evidence seems to be that in certain settings and with certain educators we can go quite far indeed. What can help is the awareness that whatever our denominational loyalties we all have our problems. It is more fun to point out other people's problems but more worthwhile to
confront our own. I think a great example is the way some Orthodox groups are confronting the status of women. The stances of other denominations help draw attention to the problem. The Orthodox response is not (as the Ultra-Orthodox charge) a matter of importing alien ideas but of responding to a real religious and ethical problem in the belief that the tradition
contains the resources to do this without itself being distorted or shattered.
Reform movements which once stood on a platform of fierce opposition to ritual have changed, no doubt in response to a sense that ritual, tradition and continuity are important and necessary. No doubt the presence of Orthodoxy with its appeal of authenticity played a role here but not necessarily as simply a model for imitation.
A question worth asking and answering both in a philosophical way and through empirical research is: why are community education, pluralism and trans-denominationalism enjoying such growth. Perhaps some of it is due to a post-modern perception that truth is a problematic notion. Traditionalists seek to ground their beliefs and practice in some idea of truth but if they are open, they know that this cannot be done in a dogmatic way by mere assertion.
Teachers it seems can teach a lot of Torah without getting bogged down in these arguments. We need to know much more about how they do it. We need teachers to report on what happens in their classrooms when they teach Matan Torah, or problematic rabbinic texts or Shabbat. We need researchers to go in and observe teachers and to talk to students about what they understand.
One thing which pluralism should not mean is that teachers cannot tell their student, in non-dogmatic and non-manipulative ways, what they really think. As Yonatan seems to understand, to come up with homogenised, non-toxic, harmonised Judaism is to do everyone a disfavour. It is to confuse and deceive students, emasculate teachers and to distort Judaism and its history.
II Yonatan Yussman Response to Gary Levine:
Gary asked for clarification on why I disagreed with his approach to pluralism. I may have misunderstood your original comments on pluralism, Gary. I understood you as saying that:
1. You teach that all views are equal and valid ("We avoid declaring any view factually wrong by declaring no view factually right")
2. You do not teach personal commitment ("[My approach] allows for the in depth study of all aspects of Judaism without the feeling that this information imposes a requirement of personal commitment")
3. You do not teach that learning about Judaism is different than learning about any other subject ("[Learning about Judaism] may be taken as an intellectual study for its own sake, like art history or the geography of Finland.")
In response to your first point, I'll offer a couple of pertinent quotes on the subject: Rabbi Norman Lamm: "... a pluralism which accepts everything as co-legitimate is not pluralism, but the kind of relativism that leads ... to spiritual nihilism. If everything is kosher, nothing is kosher." And Isaiah Berlin has written that such a relativistic approach reinforces the
thinking of, "I like my coffee with milk and you like it without; I am in favor of kindness and you prefer concentration camps." All views are not equal, nor do I think we need to pretend that they are for the sake of our students or community.
With regards to your second point, I'll summarize a section of Prof. Barry Chazan's book, The Language of Jewish Education, which I firmly support. One of the fundamentals of religious education is the teaching that the religious way necessitates some form of personal commitment. That this commitment is not frivolous but rooted in justifications, that the teacher is an example of a committed person, and how to become such a religious committed person. It must initiate the student into his heritage, develop an appreciation of, affection for, and commitment to that heritage, must present legitimate and defensible arguments for adherence to such a heritage, and prepare the child to freely choose – in a knowledgeable way – whether to accept or reject such a heritage. I may be misunderstanding you, but I feel that your views on teaching commitment are in dissonance with Chazan's views.
With regards to your third point, I can't imagine that the possible benefits of equating Judaism with the geography of Finland can outweigh the obvious costs of such an approach. I'd appreciate some more elaboration on your part.
I hope this provides some clarification of what I disagreed with in your previous comments on pluralism. I look forward to your comments on what I just wrote. One note (which I think is obvious): I feel strongly that we can conflict in our philosophies of pluralism and at the same time each be successful teachers, and that we can have the utmost respect for each other
despite disagreeing.
Gary also asks how to translate the ten values I described in my article into a practical taxonomy. That's something that's currently on my mind, and I would value hearing other educator's opinions on the topic.
And with regard to the point that Gary made regarding Hebrew being a core course, in addition to Bible and Talmud, I agree wholeheartedly.
A comment on Michael Gillis' remarks:
Michael captured my fears of relativistic teaching when he wrote, "As Yonatan seems to understand, to come up with homogenized, non-toxic, harmonized Judaism is to do everyone a disfavour. It is to confuse and deceive students, emasculate teachers and to distort Judaism and its history."
II Gary Levine
My thanks to Yonatan Yussman for taking the time to respond to my comments of last week.
It may be, as Yonatan suggests, that we simply disagree on some elements of the question of teaching toward commitment, but I think that at least some of the insufficiency which Yonatan sees in my approach stems from a broader interpretation he is giving to points which I intended in a significantly more limited context.
I certainly did say that the approach which I suggested (which Yonatan referred to several weeks ago as not pluralist, but relativist – and last week as pluralist, after all) "allows for the in-depth study of all aspects of Judaism without the feeling that this information imposes a requirement of personal commitment." Yonatan, with the aid of quotations by Rabbi Lamm and Dr. Chazan, takes that to mean that I believe we should not encourage commitment to Judaism in our students.
Certainly, that is not at all what I meant to say. My discussion of commitment was in the context of affiliation to a given Jewish religious stream. I noted that as a community school, we actively seek the attendance of students from across the broad spectrum of the community. Our school currently enjoys an extremely high registration rate from feeder
schools in the city from the Orthodox, Conservative, Reform, and Labour Zionist streams – as well as students coming directly from public schools. A not-insignificant percent of our students list no synagogue affiliation at all.
If we are to deal with our students and their families with honour and integrity, to which branch of Judaism should we encourage their commitment? Should we subtly guide them to find the truth of "Torah True Judaism" while no one is looking? Should we suggest a homogenized "Torah miSinai, but we can go a little easy on the d'rabanans" that we can get a general consensus on from 63% of the student body? We could probably get pretty close to
unanimity on "Yom Kippur, at least one Seder and the first night of Chanukah"; is that the commitment we should be seeking?
No! Our students are young men and women whose minds and hearts we are going to treat with respect. We are going to offer them a comprehensive, even exhaustive, study of sources and discussions and analysis of Tanach and Rabbinics and Jewish History and Ivrit over four years. We are going to respect our teachers and our students enough to allow everyone to present, to discuss, and to argue. We are not going to require personal religious commitment. We are going to encourage thought and learning and open discussion, and we are going to trust that it will lead thoughtful people to positive decisions.
The community school cannot require as an enrolment pre-requisite a commitment to a given religious movement, nor can it morally educate toward religious commitment to any single religious movement behind the backs of our parents. I continue to wait for Yonatan to explain the model he proposes in which he succeeds, I must assume from his statements, to find a way to require personal, pre-defined religious commitment from a broad spectrum of students in a community school. He has stated that our modest attempts are insufficient, but he has not yet told us what the sufficient model looks like.
Paul Shaviv, our Director of Education (Community Hebrew Academy, Toronto) has on more than one occasion in this forum written about "serious Judaism". It is a powerful concept and worthy of consideration and attention. By "serious Judaism" we mean the thoughtful consideration of the place of Judaism in one's life and the commitment to a personal involvement in the Jewish experience.
I certainly do believe that we must educate towards a commitment to serious Judaism. To what extent will that commitment be religious? To what extent Zionist? or ethnic? or linguistic? or communal? I cannot tell you that; it is not predetermined. Each student – each Jew – must consider this for her/himself. It is a personal choice, founded in the encouragement towards learning, analysis, introspection; founded in our respect for each student's ability to consider what our fine teachers have presented, to learn from them and from each other – to think, to reason, to search one's soul and to offer one's heart.
And the key to all of this is serious, honest, intellectual study – yes, like art history or the geography of Finland – with all the information presented and all the options open – without precondition, without a statement of what "right path" students are required to believe.
Yonatan, if we believe that there is truth and righteousness and humility and the hand of God to be found in the texts and the reflections of the Jewish people through the millennia, then we should not be afraid to trust to our children to find these things for themselves when we bring it to them for their consideration.
I can only conclude with this: I have worked alongside good men and women in this approach, in this school, for many years now. I cannot say that there have not been mistakes and that we do not continue to learn from them. I cannot say that this approach has satisfied all of the requirements of the academic studies regarding what the academicians believe schools should be.
But there are decades of men and women who have passed through this school, serious Jews who are leaders of their communities all over the world and parents of new generations of serious Jews. This is more, I think, than an adequate measure of the usefulness of the approach.
III Learning to Become a Jewish Educator in and for a Pluralistic Environment
Tamar Rabinowitz While Judaism has formed my existence in multiple ways, it was only when I volunteered to serve for one year in the Jewish community of Wellington, New Zealand that I discovered my personal interest could be publicly directed. While there, I finally realised where I wanted to invest my energies, concerns and thoughts. My experiences in Wellington released in me a passion for teaching.
However, as a Jewish educator for the elementary school and having to provide an informal educational framework for adults and teens, I found myself in uncharted professional territory. I was constantly aware of my lack of experience and skills and I struggled to guide my students in seeking appropriate texts. This played a large role in my determination to
acquire the skills and knowledge to be able to educate in the most effective way.
I am currently enrolled in the Pardes Educators Programme: two years intensive Torah study at Pardes, combined with a Masters degree in Jewish Education from the Rothberg School and the Melton Centre for Jewish Education at Hebrew U. The programme offers the possibility of learning theories and philosophies of education, combined with studying texts that assist in transforming these notions from the theoretical and philosophical to the more practical realm of Jewish consciousness raising. The programme launched last year with 15 students offers a solution to the critical need for knowledgeable teachers in pluralistic community Jewish day schools in North America.
I am learning in an environment that offers innovative responses to the needs and challenges of the Jewish community today – a direct confrontation of studying and teaching Jewish texts and ideas in a spiritual and intellectually intense yet open environment. My fellow students who represent a variety of ideologies and beliefs, come together to engage in texts, each in his/her own way. This ethos nurtures a love and respect for traditional values while not asking us to reject our own personal ethics and beliefs.
Pardes' Beit Midrash provides a safe environment to tackle and struggle with Jewish texts and challenges our previously held conceptions of what is authentic. I have also for the past two years participated in two pedagogy classes: teaching of Torah to students and teaching Rabbinics. In these classes, our time in the Beit Midrash and the knowledge and skills gained
there are transformed into the practical realm of teaching.
The courses offered at Hebrew U range from the Sociology of American Jews, The Bible and the Child, to Pluralism and Memory and History. These classes provide us with the ability to intellectually engage in discussion and reflection concerning our own understandings of educational philosophy and how to implement a curriculum based on these theories. The courses ensure that we are aware of the hermeneutics that we teach, those that stem from
our preconceptions of teaching and those that we are now equipped to choose.
All of this reaches its full articulation when we spend a month supervised teaching internship (one in each year) at a Jewish day school in America. Last year, I observed and taught at the New Jewish High School of Boston, a successful pluralistic community day school. I was exposed to numerous methods and philosophies of teaching, as well as the problems that face
educators teaching in a trans-denominational setting.
As a student-teacher in such a school, I encountered students from different denominations, with different belief systems and who had encountered different hermeneutic approaches. The courses I had taken and the guidance from my mentor helped me realise that I needed to incorporate different understandings of the text so that all students could gain fresh
and meaningful insights without feeling that their belief systems had been attacked. During that month I was able to incorporate what I had learnt in the Beit Midrash and the lecture halls and bring it into the classroom.
My experiences in the programme have helped me formulate my own educational philosophy and to shape my identity as well as furnish me with a rich background of Jewish textual knowledge and skills. My teachers in both institutions have been challenging and dynamic, pushing me to develop as a student, educator and human being.
III Shlomo Kaye
I was impressed by Tamar Rabinowitz’s article on how her studies are preparing her to work in pluralistic community day schools. However I have some questions. Firstly, I have some difficulty with the concept of pluralistic schools. What exactly is a pluralistic school? If a school does not have a specific ideological position and by implication, if all points of view are equally valid, doesn’t this seem to suggest that ultimately, what does prevail is a laissez faire type of set up where instead of equally competing points of view, there is a watering down or dumbing down of ideological positions or put more colloquially: a wish washy school philosophy?
Secondly, I also want to respond to the following statement:
I am learning in an environment that offers innovative responses to the needs and challenges of the Jewish community today – intellectually intense yet open environment… My fellow students who represent a variety of ideologies and beliefs, come together to engage in texts, each in his/her own way. This ethos nurtures a love and respect for traditional values while not asking us to reject our own personal ethics and beliefs. My question is: What happens if your own personal ethics and beliefs undermine those of the institution or vice versa? How do you make choices? How do you decide? What are the red lines for Pardes and for you?
Thirdly, Tamar writes:
As a student-teacher in such a school, I encountered students from different denominations, with different belief systems and who had encountered different hermeneutic approaches. The courses I had taken and the guidance from my mentor helped me realize that I needed to incorporate different understandings of the text so that all students could gain fresh and meaningful insights without feeling that their belief systems had been attacked. I want to ask the following: At a high school level, do we really have to molly coddle students? Why do we need to be over protective? Are students not more resilient than we think they are? By being oversensitive to their needs or ego, do we not run the risk of sending them out into the real world totally unprepared for the thrust and parry of real live people the
vast majority of whom don’t give a hoot about one’s feelings? Also, shouldn’t there be limits on tolerance, shouldn’t there be external 'yes's and 'no's or rights and wrongs or some ultimate moral authority? Aren’t in fact students really looking for guidelines and structure?
Similarly, with the following statement:
Pardes' Beit Midrash provides a safe environment to tackle and struggle with Jewish texts and challenges our previously held conceptions of what is authentic. What exactly does a safe environment mean and why do graduate students have to feel safe and protected?
III David Bernstein
In response to Shlomo Kaye's comments to Tamar’s article:
I cannot answer the questions about pluralistic schools; I have never worked in one. I hope that someone from such a school will respond.
Regarding the question about why graduate students might need a "safe" Bet Midrash environment let me first say that Pardes does not consider itself to be a pluralistic institution. We view ourselves as an halachic institution, and a safe place to explore the tradition.
Why "safe?" It is important to recognize that not every postgraduate student is interested in a Jewish learning environment, which demands behavioral compliance with halachic norms (e.g. dress). By offering the opportunity for graduate students to learn the classical Jewish texts in a serious way, without imposing halachic behavior on them, Pardes is able to expose
them to authentic Torah, and authentic Torah role models, without forcing them to change their lifestyles.
In this way, the conflict between "personal values" and the "values of the institution" is generally defused. Pardes students understand where their teachers are coming from, but for the most part feel that they are given their own personal autonomy as well. We do not feel "undermined" if a student does not keep Shabbat, or expresses reservations about kashrut in class. In an atmosphere that accepts diversity in its students (both coming in and leaving us), it is not threatening for us.
Red lines? We do have them, and they include things like respecting the kashrut of our kitchen; and while people have the right to disagree, they do not have the right to denigrate others.
We do offer opportunities for spiritual growth, but we do not force it upon our students (e.g. tefilla). We believe (and know from 28 years of experience) that our adult students generally come away much more literate Jews, who love Torah, and find their own ways of increasing their Jewish commitment and lifestyle.
Is this for everyone? Certainly not! But for many Jews, it is the best/only entryway to intensive Torah study, and ultimately, a more educated and committed Jewish life.
III Abbi Adest
In response to the following statement by Tamar,
Pardes' Beit Midrash provides a safe environment to tackle and struggle with Jewish texts and challenges our previously held conceptions of what is authentic Shlomo Kaye asks the following question to which I would like to respond:
What exactly does a safe environment mean and why do graduate students have to feel safe and protected? Tamar did not say that graduate students need to be "protected". There is an obvious confusion between the terms "safe" and "protected". This confusion was also in evidence in your attack on pluralistic school environments.
The Jewish people today, for better or for worse, are cracked into many different denominations, beliefs and viewpoints. The choices are to break off into our little communities and only talk to and learn from people who think exactly us or we can get together and talk and learn from people who hold different and even contradictory viewpoints. The latter is the essence of pluralism. It doesn't require being laissez faire, as you put it. It requires a safe and protected environment, where everyone expresses their beliefs without filters, without apologies or fears. The safety comes from knowing that you will be heard and you will be accepted, despite the fact that not everyone will agree with all or any of your beliefs.
In a pluralistic environment, no one is molly coddling or protecting any high school, college or graduate students. If anything the school with the single Jewish philosophy is "molly coddling". In that school, you don't have to think and struggle to create a personal hashkafa because you are not confronted by different beliefs – your belief is handed to you on a
plate. I've seen students from these kinds of schools enter "the thrust and parry of the real world," and it's not pretty.
The goal of pluralism is to try to build whole Jewish communities, where Jews actually listen and learn from each other, instead of criticizing or judging each other.
III Stuart Zweiter
I too was impressed by Tamar Rabinowitz’s articulate statement regarding her studies and her preparation for work in pluralistic day schools. I was, however, a bit puzzled by Shlomo Kaye’s series of questions regarding her statement. The Merriam Webster Dictionary defines pluralism as:
a state of society in which members of diverse ethnic, racial, religious, or social groups maintain an autonomous participation in and development of their traditional culture or special interest within the confines of a common civilization and a concept, doctrine, or policy advocating this state. You will probably recall from studying the history of the period of the Enlightenment, that in the United States a process of cultural pluralism was espoused, a system in which each culture was encouraged to maintain its own particular identity and as a result, society as a whole would be enriched. On the European continent, on the other hand, one had to satisfy
particular societal criteria in order to benefit from the freedoms offered by Emancipation. Voltaire, for example, in suggesting rights for the Jews, maintained that they should essentially become like him, become philosophers, he declared, and the Jews would deserve rights like any other citizens of France.
At the risk of oversimplifying this, I believe that pluralistic schools fit comfortably into the American conceptualization. Students from differing religious and ideological perspectives can maintain their identity within the confines of a common locale. This is quite different than the model of a progressive modern Orthodox school that welcomes students with different backgrounds and perspectives but expects the student to perform within the
framework of a particular religious perspective. It seems rather clear to me, that in a school in which a pluralistic approach is taken seriously, not only should there be no watering down or espousal of a laissez faire attitude, but rather a compelling need for ideological clarification.
Regarding the issues of red lines and personal ethics and beliefs, it seems to me that this question is no different in a pluralistic school than it is in any other school. In all situations one must decide that he/she is sufficiently ideologically comfortable in the environment in which he works. I have been in co-ed modern Orthodox schools where more Haredi
teachers were perfectly comfortable and in non co-ed modern Orthodox schools where they were not. It is always going to be particular to the person and the school environment.
Regarding the issue of preparing students for the real world. I would hope that indeed one of the goals of Jewish educators is to prepare students for the real world. I would expect that the goal, however, would be not to reinforce the insensitivity in the world but rather to educate students towards trying to eliminate it.
III Steve Israel As someone who teaches students from all denominations and has done so for many years: as someone, moreover, who grew up in a nominally Orthodox home where the degree of ignorance about non-Orthodox Judaism was equaled only by the feeling of superiority towards whatever it was that non-Orthodox Judaism was thought to consist of (usually wrongly), and as someone who believes in addition that non-acceptance of Jew by another Jew is the biggest evil in the Jewish universe at this particular point in time (and at pretty much every other moment in the last two centuries at least), some of the assumptions that seemed to be underlying Shlomo Kaye’s responses to Tamar Rabinowitz pushed a number of buttons and made me want to respond.
I say “some of the assumptions.” I do not say all. I agree that the “dumbing down of ideological positions” is a very negative result, at least from the Jewish perspective, of the politically correct school of liberalism. Time after time I try and encourage students to define their own positions on Judaism and to challenge each other, and yes, to judge each others viewpoints from the standpoint of their own position. As far as I am concerned, this is healthy: it pushes the development of a world-view and a theological/philosophical position regarding the individual’s place vis-a-vis the Jewish world.
I do the same regarding Zionism. As far as I am concerned, not every Jewish child or adult has to be a Zionist, but everyone should be encouraged to develop a position on the subject which they believe in and which they support and are prepared to defend. In order to do this,
whether for Judaism or for Zionism or for that matter for anything else-ism, a couple of things are necessary.
Firstly, there needs to be a fair and coherent presentation of different points of view so that the individual can make a choice which reflects who he or she really is and what they believe. The presentation needs to be an educated and deep one which doesn’t corrupt or stereotype other positions just because they don’t agree with the philosophy of the person presenting.
Secondly, the individual must feel free to start stammering their way towards their own belief system. Finding a true philosophy for yourself (rather than just taking someone else’s –parents' or educators') – is a long and difficult process. It can last many years, sometimes a lifetime. For a true search to take place it has to start with one’s own questions.
Questions come from the same place where vulnerability and insecurity come from, the “still small voice” of uncertainty inside every one of us where our deepest most authentic self dwells. When those questions start to emerge – if they are real, honest, existential questions of our own rather than questions that come from somebody else’s agenda – they almost always emerge in inarticulate, hesitant, form. At that rare moment of true questioning, we are like the turtle which pops its head gingerly out of its shell. We are ripe prey for someone with better formed opinions than ours to bash us over the head with a point of view that we cannot answer and cause the head to descend back into the shell, bruised and battered (in
human terms, embarrassed and with feelings of inadequacy), for a very long time.
At the moment that a person is engaged in true questioning, he or she needs a very safe place indeed to test out her or his ideas. And it makes absolutely no difference how old that person is. What is important is that the environment is good for turtles, i.e. a place to dare, a safe place. In my opinion there is no statute of age limitations on the need for a safe place. The only ones who don’t need safe places are the ones who are never going to stick their necks out. And who are they likely to be? When you are talking about real big issues like the ones mentioned, those are probably either people who have never been taught that the issues are
important and real, or people who have grown up in environments where all questioning is done inside careful parameters of “What is permitted to be asked from our point of view.”
I would suggest that the process of encouraging people to discover who they really are and what they truly believe could best be done in truly pluralistic frameworks. What does this mean? It means that they must contain people of different perspectives who are encouraged to challenge both themselves and others but are taught to do that by using a certain
vocabulary of questioning and listening which will encourage all to stretch themselves without the risk of being “defeated” and humiliated by a well articulated alternative point of view. It also means that the task of the educational institution is to act as a neutral umpire, which ensures that the differences are presented clearly and deeply, that the dialogue between
the different opinions is a dialogue of listeners and not a dialogue of the deaf and that ultimately each student is challenged to explore and to push his or her own boundaries forward to wherever they might be taken.
Does that mean that such an institution has no values, that it has a “wishy washy" school philosophy? That it stands for nothing? No, just the opposite. It means that it has a philosophy of commitment to authentic searching and deep challenging. It can be an institution that says that “one of the deepest of all Jewish values is questioning, and one of
the deepest of all Jewish responses to the world is not to take anything for granted.” It can be a school where every day is Pesach and where the question goes before the answer. It can be an institution that says we believe that all Jews should engage themselves in a deep search for their own meaning in a confrontation with the insights of Jewish culture. If at the end of that search, that individual makes decisions to reject everything – after an in-depth examination of what they would be rejecting – that might be regrettable but we affirm it as their right.
That is what true pluralism in Jewish education is and in my opinion, it is the finest aim of any educational system, because it encourages a person to find their own position in this world rather than accepting that of other people.
I would suggest that one of the reasons for intermarriage and assimilation in the Jewish world today is that people of all streams in Judaism are not encouraged to go through this deep and open questioning process. As a result they come out of the educational process, or rather the indoctrinational process to give it its right name, mouthing positions to which they are not personally committed. If they are not personally committed to something, then their own roots in that position are unlikely to be deep. It will take a small wind indeed –– chance romance? – to blow them out of the Jewish framework altogether.
I hope that this is clear. These ideas run a different race to most of the institutionalised thinking in the Jewish educational world, which goes in the direction of defending territory and “bringing people over to our side.” The ideas will be dismissed by many but they are, I would suggest, the sort of ideas that are needed in order to bring the Jewish people forward to a better place. Maybe these are turtle ideas, and I am about to get my head whacked!
III Mark Smiley
(A response to my friends David Bernstein, Steve Israel)
Dewey once wrote that an educator needs to be prepared to create environments for their own children/others that are vastly different from ones that they studied in and know that their children will do the same. Steve, your model like Dewey's is progressive and different from David's interpretation of the Pardes mission in that you expect kids to take your model of serious reflection, the importance of the needs of the individual (heart/brain) and their need to choose their place in the spectrum of Jewish life (or create their own). If
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