When I first came to New Jersey from Israel, I was a young mother with experience teaching in a public school in Israel and, I confess, a little naive. I was born, raised, and educated in a traditional, non-religious community and came with a very simple vision for my professional path. I came to teach Hebrew in an American Jewish day school. I would speak only Hebrew, never English. I would create a curriculum that consists of classic Israeli poems and songs, a few short stories, and some clear and simple grammar charts. I really believed that if I did all of those things well enough, I’d excite my students and make them fall in love with my mother tongue, and… the fluency would follow.

Twenty-seven years later at Ma’ayanot Yeshiva High School (Teaneck, NJ), I smile as I think back on that young teacher. I soon came to understand that the American Jewish classroom is a complex and demanding place. I came to understand that a strong Hebrew program is not about bringing a polished curriculum from the outside, but about growing a program from the inside out, listening deeply to the community in front of you, and being willing to change as the community changes.

Lesson 1: Observation Before Innovation

In my first few years as a Hebrew teacher, I felt bombarded by the sheer number of programs, curricula, and texts available. All were very impressive and promised solutions, yet none of them seemed to reflect the students I was teaching. With the support and guidance of my academic mentor, I began to understand that the answer was not “out there” but needed to come from within me: I needed to become a student of the community I am a part of.

This meant looking beyond the classroom. I sought out opportunities in school. I went to professional development in Limudei Kodesh so that I could understand the language, terminology, and concepts that my colleagues used and my students were studying in other departments of the school. I took classes and seminars in religion and Modern Orthodoxy to better understand what would be driving the lives of the students I was teaching. My aim was for Hebrew to be a part of the fabric of the students’ lives, not just a subject on the schedule.

From this process, I developed a four-year thematic spiral curriculum. Each grade level has a major theme that relates to the students’ developmental stages and interests. For example, ninth graders might be working with themes of identity and roots, while seniors, about to enter the real world, might be working with the theme of Israel in the modern world. This also allowed me to review the essential language skills of reading, grammar, and speaking each year, but with more and more sophisticated and relevant themes. I have always tried to keep my curriculum goals in two areas: What language skills do the students need to learn? And, what knowledge do they need to learn about the culture?

But even with all that effort, curriculum writing is not a one-time endeavor but an ongoing process. I review it every summer with a critical eye and ear open to new developments in language learning in general and Hebrew in particular. What doesn’t work gets changed. I regularly consider what new interests the students may have that need to be incorporated. A curriculum has to be alive. If it does not change, it doesn’t work.

Lesson 2: Language is a Mirror to Culture

We often tell students that the key to Jewish texts is the Hebrew language. And that’s true. But we also need to tell them that the Hebrew language reflects a society that’s constantly changing. What I taught twenty years ago is no longer the language I need to teach today.

If I want my students to function in the Hebrew language in Israel, I need to give them the language of modern Israel. And that’s where the media comes in. I need to give them the language of Israelis through the media they feel comfortable using, whether it is TV shows, music, or social media platforms. When they hear a biblical quote or a conjugated verb they know in the language of their favorite song or video, they’ll see the language as one continuous story instead of bits and pieces of the past. But to do that, I need to be comfortable with change. It’s easy to be comfortable with the lesson plans that I know have worked in the past. But language doesn’t work that way. It’s constantly changing with the society around us. To keep the language relevant to my students, I need to be aware of the changes.

That said, I do believe that alongside teaching Modern Hebrew, students need to study Classical Hebrew as well in the form of timeless literary pieces that can expose them to language from different periods of time. The connection to the language goes through the path that carries changes from biblical to modern times. Being able to function in the language means being able to choose the vocabulary that fits any given scenario they might encounter.

Lesson 3: Taking Play Seriously

We sometimes make the assumption that older students need a more serious type of learning—a serious learning environment, serious assignments, etc. I have come to realize that high school students—at every stage—learn deeply through play, just as younger children do.

As a result, I try to incorporate games and healthy competition in almost every lesson, such as fast-paced digital vocabulary games to check for understanding, inviting students to create their own board games inspired by the in-depth analysis of a story we just read, or writing scripts for video clips performed in class. What I’ve seen each time is that their language skills improve while they enjoy the learning process.

At Back to School Night, I introduce parents to my educational philosophy: if learning is enjoyable, students are invested. When they’re laughing, competing, and creating, they don’t feel it’s hard work and they choose to delve into it even more.

Lesson 4: Going Beyond the Classroom 

Being a member of a school community means being there with your whole being and at times stepping forward to bring the culture to life. From the very beginning, I have been an integral part in the creation of the Israel program, which is an extension of the Hebrew classroom.

One of the most meaningful experiences for me has been watching an idea evolve beyond my original vision. What began as a modest singing competition inspired by Israeli television gradually transformed as students took ownership. Over time, the students reimagined the format, introduced new themes, and added their own values. At some point, my role shifted from creator to observer as students turned it into a powerful expression of Hebrew culture, music, and responsibility.

Years ago, I was inspired by the Hidon HaTanakh program held in Israel and implemented the Israeli trivia program called Hidon Israel. It started off as the primary focus of Yom Ha’atzmaut and then branched into a day of multifaceted activities in other areas, trying to engage all students. I highlighted Hebrew education with a touch of Israeli culture, such as the making of kadurei shokolad, playing TAKI, making simple irrigation systems, folding geometric Magen Davids, singing Israeli songs, and making art based on Israeli symbols and history. It is in these events that the students discover hidden strengths not necessarily shown in the evaluation of the Hebrew language. A student who is not good at grammar could be a mastermind at strategy games, math thinking, scientific problem-solving skills, history knowledge, or creative expression. It is when they are recognized in these activities that they feel more confident in the Hebrew classroom.

Lesson 5: Finding a New Voice after October 7th

As with many others within the Jewish community, the events of October 7 shook our school and forced me to reevaluate the way I approach Israel education in my classroom. Jewish and Israeli history had been part of my curriculum, however, I had come to understand that just knowing facts wasn’t enough. In addition to teaching language skills and historical facts, my students needed words to discuss the moral complexity and emotional depth of their own lives. This forced me to rethink my curriculum and to shift the study of Israeli history and politics towards a more nuanced and urgent discussion. I incorporated more Israel education topics that could help students identify their own values and develop their identities as young Zionist women. 

I also began to work with other teachers to think about how we could provide additional learning opportunities for students. Out of this, a small learning community of tenth and eleventh grade students was born. They were interested in exploring Israel in a much more in-depth way; they were interested in finding informed voices about Israel. 

In addition, along with a colleague, I began reviewing the school’s Israel education curriculum to reinforce what students were learning in Hebrew and History and make it more accessible across disciplines.

So, twenty-seven years into teaching, I have learned that it’s not just a language I’m teaching. I am teaching identity and I’m teaching it in a way that goes far beyond the classroom and that, hopefully, students carry with them long after they graduate.