Making Tefilah More Student-Centered
Joshua Cahan is a writer and tefilah consultant from Riverdale, NY. Rabbi Cahan spent 11 years teaching Rabbinics and tefilah at The Leffell School in Westchester, NY, and is the author of The Yedid Nefesh Bencher and The Yedid Nefesh Haggadah. He has Rabbinic Ordination and a Ph.D. in Rabbinic Literature from the Jewish Theological Seminary.
Every student enters tefilah with a different story. Some find comfort in familiar words and melodies; others feel unsure, disconnected, or skeptical. Yet tefilah in schools often assumes uniformity—everyone doing the same thing, in the same way, at the same pace. When we shift our focus to the people in the room, new possibilities for meaning can open up.
Our students differ in background, skill, belief, and attitude. Some approach prayer with deep skepticism while others are strongly committed to it. Some revel in song; others seek quiet. Student-centered tefilah asks: What do our various students need to feel seen, safe, and invited into Jewish prayer?
My own shift in thinking
These tensions—and my wish to honor the needs of all these students—forced me to rethink my own approach to leading tefilah. Over the years, two major shifts transformed not only my practice but the experience of both students and faculty—even while the core ritual structure remained intact.
The first shift was that in order to move our tefilah practice from point A to point B, I had to start thinking about school tefilah as fundamentally an educational enterprise. It may sound obvious, but in practice we rarely treat it this way. As an educational enterprise, it should have clearly defined goals and ways to measure progress. Anything we want students to know how to do, we need to teach explicitly and budget time for. And we should expect that a minyan at the end of the year will look and feel different than that minyan at the start of the year. Instead of saying, “These are the prayers we do in seventh grade,” we might ask, “Which new prayers will we learn, practice, and ultimately add to our service in the course of this year?”
The second shift was to start asking how tefilah can in fact feel valuable for different types of students. I was already addressing the experience of those focused on obligation and ritual performance and those who take real pleasure in shared singing. But how do I bring in students who connect through meditation or who need a non-theological frame?
There are established spiritual practices that address those needs. The challenge I have been exploring is how to teach them in ways that can become part of our communal ritual. This started as a way to give more kids ways to connect, but it has taken on far greater import. There is meaningful and important social-emotional learning that we want to offer all our students but with which we struggle to do well in school, and tefilah is a natural vehicle for it. Situating this work in tefilah allows us to frame it in Jewish language and, more fundamentally, conveys that real, deep prayer should ideally be a spiritual practice using the liturgy as a vehicle. To put it another way: As educators we want to give students tools for social-emotional learning, and as Jewish educators we want to embed them within the framework of Jewish ritual.
Principles for building a differentiated tefilah space
I want to describe a few elements of how I have tried to make this happen, hoping to suggest a path forward, while acknowledging that it is complicated and I am still learning how to do it well.
1. Embrace variation
The first key principle for me is to embrace variation. Our conception of daily minyan is of a set, unvarying routine, but that does not fit the goals of an educational space meant to foster dynamic learning and growth. I wanted to use the time dedicated to prayer to facilitate multiple types of learning while retaining a commitment to the traditional liturgy. I began by looking for ways to incorporate them in small ways into our regular service. One strategy was to find, for each new text we study, a Big Question or personal connection to give students new ways to engage with it. I often try to sneak 2-3 minutes of a different modality into a service instead of a devar Torah—a Kirtan-style chant or drum circle before Yishtabah, or a brief guided meditation for Tahanun.
Alternating formats from day to day also helped. In one group, some days we did a full service while other days we worked on learning specific texts or on meaning-making skills, that students could then bring back into a traditional davening context. We had particular success with elective services that alternated with traditional ones. This gave students the chance to try new things and expand their ideas of spiritual exploration, but it always tied those practices back to the liturgy and emphasized that they were meant to enrich our experience of traditional prayer, not replace it.
I should acknowledge that many schools respond to the diversity of needs by offering a range of tefilah and spirituality electives, and I embrace that, but I believe these should be in service of and feeding back into shared communal prayer. I am convinced that the basic principle of the differentiated classroom applies equally to prayer spaces: more is gained by keeping diverse students together than by sorting them by skill or interest. A vibrant prayer community needs all of these voices, and they can truly learn from, challenge, and inspire one another—if we structure the space thoughtfully.
2. Commit to a growth model
The second principle was to really commit to a goal-oriented growth model for tefilah; I try to approach a minyan as I do a course. I identify the areas of growth most important for that age group as well as the specific attitudes and tools I want to cultivate. I try to describe what success would look like and how I can help them gradually build those muscles. This helps me let go of the “same service every day” mindset. I find it easier to justify taking time for learning one day in the service of having a full service with greater intention and engagement later.
Ideally, I try to create tefilah as a space for deep reflection and spiritual growth, but these are learned disciplines. Even proficient daveners usually recite the words without any personal engagement. When we study specific prayers, we identify resonant questions and ideas that matter to students’ lives. We look for easily recalled hooks and questions that they can come back to each time they reach that text. In this way, I am inviting them to see the traditional liturgy as a set of guideposts to help them find their own spiritual center.
I have learned how to teach and help students practice meditation exercises around things like self-awareness, gratitude, or generosity, and then explicitly give students permission to find points during our regular services to use these tools. Whether tied to specific texts or not, they help students see tefilah not only as ritual performance but as an opportunity to open their hearts. For some, that turns prayer into a practice that they experience as being meaningful and impactful. The key, again, is that all of these practices are meant to become tools that kids can incorporate into the traditional service, so that they can find their own form of connection while still being part of our shared, communal ritual.
3. Cultivate positive energy
The third principle, which in a sense undergirds the others, is the need for positive energy. An inviting prayer service has singing and flow and offers easy opportunities for participation, and I find ways to interact positively with students and not drift into playing only a policing role. I invest a lot in drafting and empowering student leaders. When I have a core of students in a group who want a more “serious” service, I work hard to avoid their getting frustrated and checking out, but will not let them run a service for themselves and leave out their peers. They need to be given the responsibility to build the prayer community and learn to balance their own needs and others’. As one example, some of my student leaders have adopted small rituals or particular melodies that make their minyan distinct and special. Hopefully they will (often with a lot of reminders and hand-holding) step into leadership in ways that are assertive but still inclusive.
The goal is to gradually build my service into one that both students and faculty look forward to rather than dreading, and want to help build. This basic orientation is a crucial starting point. It is the groundwork on which everything else is built.
The Possibilities of a Student-Centered Approach
When done well, student-centered tefilah is both traditional and deeply accessible. It includes song and energy alongside simple chanting. It is shaped by students who are attentive to both their peers’ needs and their own. And it equips students with a set of meaning-making tools that they can draw on regularly or occasionally, to make prayer feel personal, impactful, and deeply prayerful, giving them genuine permission to personalize their experience within the shared ritual.
Tefilah can become the rare moment in a school day when students are not asked to perform but to pause—to reflect, to feel, to reach beyond themselves. We often do not use our tefilah time this way, but it is something toward which I strive. A prayer culture built on these principles is educationally rich and spiritually nourishing. It enables each student to participate fully in a communal ritual while exploring what tefilah might mean for them.
This takes real practice. Just as we teach students to read Torah or lead a service, we can teach them how to approach prayer thoughtfully and personally. That begins with acknowledging the diverse emotions and attitudes students bring and committing to helping each of them discover their own path within tefilah. And as is so often true with differentiation strategies, offering multiple ways to access and connect to the prayer experience can prove to be transformational for everyone involved.
Joshua Cahan is a writer and tefilah consultant from Riverdale, NY. Rabbi Cahan spent 11 years teaching Rabbinics and tefilah at The Leffell School in Westchester, NY, and is the author of The Yedid Nefesh Bencher and The Yedid Nefesh Haggadah. He has rabbinic ordination and a Ph.D. in Rabbinic Literature from the Jewish Theological Seminary.
From The Editor: Winter 2026
For many years I believed that I was a good educator. Students, alumni, and parents told me so. I was mostly effective at exciting my students to learn, drawing them in, and teaching them content and skills they remembered for a long time. Students thought that I was fair and sensitive and really committed to their success. Hey, I even learned how to admit my mistakes and learn from them.
And then I got married and started raising children.
From Scaffolding to Independence
I run a progressive N-8 Jewish day school (Luria Academy of Brooklyn) committed to inclusion of children with a broad range of abilities and needs and backgrounds. One of the questions I get asked frequently by parents is when we are going to build a high school. Truthfully, it’s not currently part of our plan and we are blessed to be in New York City where Jewish high school options abound. What prompts the parental requests for a high school is their very reasonable concern for how their child will transition from our student-centered, individualized, supportive classroom to a more traditional, less flexible environment.
What Mainstream Schools Can Learn From a School Like Mine
I recently had a conversation with a faculty member at a school of education which is part of a local university. He teaches a course titled “Learning and Cognition” and finds himself under pressure from students every year not to teach it. The students, as they enter the classroom, understandably want practical tools, and do not see the connection between how people learn and what they do in a classroom.
Choice in the Middle School Beit Midrash
In a small Jewish day school, differentiation is a fact of life. Some of our students have diagnoses which explain why they have challenges in learning and some do not; some need lots of repetition of material in order to synthesize ideas and others seem to understand and be prepared to explain the content the first time they read or hear an idea. In our small community, some are able to thrive in a Hebrew immersion class while others begin to shut down in this environment. A typical curricular model in middle schools at small Jewish day schools is to offer grade-specific Jewish studies courses; this has the advantage of all students being exposed to the same content, and building upon past learning is an easier task. At Oakland Hebrew Day School (Oakland, CA), a K-8 school, we, too, had this model until ten years ago, when we found ourselves grappling with the following issues:
Traditional Text Study for neurodivergent Students
During our time in school together, Jewish studies classes were streamed based purely on Hebrew language skills. This approach, with its exclusive focus on Hebrew facility, prevented us—and we suspect many other neurodivergent students—from accessing and engaging in the depth and richness of Jewish texts and traditions. Furthermore, by focusing solely on translation and basic comprehension, it denied us the opportunity to apply our own strengths of analytical and creative thinking, which are often reserved for advanced streams.
Trauma Awareness In Jewish Day Schools
A painful reality for Jewish educators is that, despite our most valiant efforts, a significant population of young people who go through the Jewish day school system feels distanced and removed from their education, as if they are perpetually outsiders to their community. Who are these young people? What causes this sense of distance? What can we do to help them? While every case is different, often these children are dealing with some sort of trauma that educators are not always equipped to support, and sometimes can inadvertently inflict. However, proper awareness and appropriate responses can go a long way in helping these young people feel welcome and understood.
The Unique Opportunities for Personalization in Jewish Studies
My experience at Jewish summer camp played an important role in forging my identity, first as a Jew, and then as a Jewish educator. When I made the jump from Director of Education at the camp I grew up at to the Jewish day school classroom, I would often reflect on what made camp so impactful and how I could bring aspects of experiential education into the formal classroom. I soon realized that it is not just about what camp has that the classroom does not, it’s just as much about the aspects of formal education that camps are unburdened by.
Forty Ways to Learn Navi
One of the most powerful sources of professional reflection for me has always been hevruta—the back-and-forth of honest, challenging dialogue. Several years ago, a teacher with whom I shared a classroom told me that my teaching was “too frontal” and that I needed to give students more “voice and choice.”
Being naturally competitive and reflective, I took the critique to heart. During winter break, I spent two solid days redesigning my Navi curriculum for my sixth graders. My goal was simple: to create a system where students could take genuine ownership of their learning while still meeting our academic expectations.
Differentiated Instruction in the Judaic Studies Classroom
Judaic studies is a high-stakes undertaking for teachers who aspire to cultivate in their students not only deep knowledge of texts and traditions that shape Jewish identity, but also a personal relationship with the Torah and with God. Either of those objectives without the other misses an opportunity to foster in children a love of their heritage and the desire to keep it vital in their lives.
Differentiation, Relationships, and Planning with an AI Partner
Jewish Studies teachers have long known the importance of meeting students’ individual needs, yet differentiation in practice has remained elusive. Judaic Studies teachers often lack ready-made resources or formal training in differentiation models. In this article, we share our experience using AI to help Jewish studies teachers overcome those challenges.
Unlocking Every Learner: An Instructional Reflection For 1-5 Grade Judaic Educators
Educate the child according to their path (Proverbs 22:6).
This well-known verse beautifully captures the essence of differentiated and personalized learning: each child enters the classroom with a unique constellation of strengths, challenges, interests, and ways of understanding the world.
Blended and Personalized Learning in Jewish Studies
Blended and Personalized Learning (BPL) has become a valuable approach for Jewish studies classrooms seeking to meet wide-ranging student needs without overwhelming teachers. BPL provides structures that allow educators to teach more precisely, differentiate more naturally, and build student independence and choice. When implemented with clear routines, consistent expectations, and thoughtful planning, BPL transforms classrooms into dynamic spaces where learners move at an appropriate pace, engage more deeply, and take increasing ownership of their learning. Educators also benefit from having a mentor/coach guide them through the different steps. The following overview outlines the core principles of effective BPL and illustrates how these principles come to life in real 1st–8th grade classrooms.
Hevruta as a Tool for Differentiation and Personalization
Meeting the needs of every learner in the room is one of the most complex tasks a teacher faces. No two students process text in the same way. Some absorb information quickly, while others need more time. Some think visually, others verbally. Some feel confident sharing ideas in front of the class, while others shut down the moment they feel unsure. Even highly motivated learners approach Torah with very different strengths and needs. Teachers want to support every student, yet it is difficult to personalize instruction when the class is moving through the same pasuk or section of Gemara at the same pace.
From Teaching the Class to Teaching Each Student
Walk down the hallways of many schools today or step into a teacher’s lounge, and the shift in conversation is unmistakable. Instead of talking about plans for a trip, Shabbat, or the newest and most exciting curriculum, the conversation frequently has shifted towards struggling students, classroom behaviors, and the plight of supporting an ever-growing diverse Jewish student population. These discussions reflect a new reality: Teaching at a Jewish day school now requires an expanding skill set to meet the evolving needs of students and the growing challenges teachers face.
Differentiating Jewish Education – Not If But How
In the early 1970s, my mother sat in her 9th grade halakha class cowering in fear. Her teacher loudly berated the class as not one student volunteered to translate the words of the Rosh Hashana prayers. Her pulse racing, my mother suddenly realized she had an advantage. As the daughter of Holocaust survivors who came from two different countries, my mother’s first language was Yiddish and the mahzor she had pulled from her parents’ bookshelf the night before was a Hebrew-Yiddish one. She timidly raised her hand, provided the translation, thus saving her class from incurring further wrath from the teacher. Jewish education is unique in that each student brings their own personalized version of Judaism with them into the classroom. For my mother that day, it looked like a mahzor with a Yiddish translation.
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