While the experience for us was fun and mutually enlightening, for our students it was mind-expanding. They could never have imagined that the skills and content in two dramatically disparate subjects could actually dovetail and mutually reinforce one another, that religion and humanities could speak to each other, and that knowledge and ideas could be both particular and universal at the same time.
It is the culture of the school that transformed these otherwise ordinary teachers into an extraordinary team. To watch them working together in partnerships which may have otherwise been difficult to imagine, was truly inspiring. And while not every school has all the same features that make this institution stand out, I believe that others can learn about creating the kind of culture that makes it safe for teachers to be vulnerable. It is that space of safe vulnerability where authentic growth happens.
When we learn parshanut in school, we often focus on what the text says, what the commentary says, or how the commentary addresses a particular problem or issue in the text. If we take the time to learn and think about who these people were and how their work reflects their biographies and historical contexts, we gain a deeper understanding of and appreciation for them and their work.
As educators, we have an incredible opportunity to use this moment to deepen our students’ understanding of Tehillim. Rather than just mumbling words by rote, we can help our students understand what the words they recite actually mean. Rather than mindless repetition, we can help our students connect to the spiritual and emotional responses the words are meant to evoke.
The greatness of the Jewish people lies in our continually discovering, davka during the darkest times, more courage within ourselves.
Why might a student who has attended our community’s schools for so many years, schools into which the community pours so many resources, decide that, at least temporarily, they are not interested in being part of our community? I won’t pretend that I know the answer, but I do believe…
Recently, a teacher asked me for some guidance. What did I think would be both the best content and methodology not only for teaching skills but also for conveying fundamental values and fostering a love for and connection to Judaism?
Many schools are facing a crisis due to the dearth of Jewish studies teachers. I therefore feel it is important for me to share my journey from wanting to leave teaching to fully loving my job. I hope that my personal experience and the process outlined in this article can serve as a model for other schools and encourage struggling teachers to find the support they need so they too can thrive in their classrooms.
We aren’t only teachers. We are teacher-dads or teacher-moms. Some of us are teacher-cyclists and others are teacher-runners. Some of us are teacher-gardeners and others are teacher-travelers. I suggest that summertime is a time to heed the “hyphen.”
If Judaism is a response to existential questions, then we must validate our students’ questions, interests, and curiosities and create a context to discuss them.
