Welcome to the home of The Lookstein Center’s LookJED discussions. Initiated in 1998 with just 25 people, The LookJED has evolved into a growing community of over 3000 educational professionals and lay people of all levels—academics, principals, teachers, etc. who are looking to learn,
Want to think through something with your colleagues across the globe?
As an educator and a parent of teenagers, I am interested in hearing about practical suggestions for how to educate for commitment to the requirement to daven daily, while at the same time creating a feeling of freshness and inspiration in tefilla. The second half of sefer Shmot is a good jumping off point for talking about the nature of tefilla. The description of the people’s contribution to the mishkan in parshat Vayakhel seems contradictory. On the one hand, the Torah commands, “Take from among yourselves a terumah to Hashem,” and then, “every person whose heart inspires him should bring…” (Shmot 35:5) Was this giving required or voluntary? The Kli Yakar calls this “two types of giving,” one where it hurts your heart to give and the other where you give with a full heart. This is similar to the Talmudic discussion regarding tefilla, which was of course based on korbanot. Tefilla, like the gifts to the mishkan is required and at the same time fixed. Yet, Rabbi Eliezer says: One who makes his prayer “set,” his prayer does not constitute “pleading.” (Mishna Berachot 4:4) One interpretation of this statement is that tefilla needs to include some “chiddush.” The Rabbis understood that tefilla would sometimes feel more like a burden than a privilege, and therefore suggested that it should include something unique and voluntary so that it does not become robotic repetition. Perhaps this is reflected in the way the Rabbis describe tefillah עבודה שבלב, “service of the heart” (Talmud Bavli, Ta’anit 2a). It’s service, a requirement, but also in our hearts, in our own deepest desires. The giving to the mishkan and the dual nature of tefillah leave us with the thought, how can we help make tefilla in our schools, in our and communities and in ourselves feel both a mitzvah — an obligation — and also genuinely voluntary?Potential ideas for creating this balance in educational settings:I have been teaching tefilla this year to a group of adults. We have found that actively discussing the tefillot themselves and thinking deeply about the philosophical issues related to tefilla, has enriched our own tefilla experiences. Perhaps more time thinking and talking about tefilla is one way to keep us committed and at the same time enthusiastic about tefilla. Creating opportunities for students to work on new ways to connect with parts of tefilla through subjects that they find interesting and relevant. I’m interested in hearing about other ideas and suggestions.
In both my professional and personal experiences, I have been seeing more cases of kids having their normative academic careers taking hits because they are suffering from anxiety and depression.After decades in the field of education, I do feel that this is becoming a more pervasive problem, but I am not under the impression that mainstream yeshiva day schools have any way of helping students other than kindness and suggestions of outside resources for families.I am also not aware of any non-mainstream yeshiva programs geared to students who have emotional issues but not educational ones.Is anyone else also experiencing these frustrations? Is this a trend? Is the yeshiva day school system in the loop on this and prepared to deal with it or is this destined to be outsourced to secular boutique schools?
A common struggle for day schools is adherence to a dress code or uniform. These are some of the challenges as I see them:*We often use vague terms in our school handbooks to explain the logic using terms like “modesty” or “orthodox standards.”*Generally, the issues of non-compliance connected to dress in school affects the female population more than the males and often triggers those students to feel religiously condemned.*Teachers tend to take two different paths to deal with this issue. Some teachers and administrators, fearing an adversarial relationship with their students (or a hostile relationship with the parents), tend to turn a blind eye to consistent infractions while others become so frustrated with the seemingly never-ending violations, that they become angry with their students which in turn affects the student-teacher relationship.While this topic is not a new one in our schools, it has been on my mind lately. Recently, Lilly Gelman, a day school graduate (and full disclosure- my daughter) wrote a piece for the Forward titled “It’s Time Orthodox Jews Stop Equating Modesty with Self Respect. https://forward.com/author/lilly-gelman/She writes how the lines between halachik infraction in dress and character shaming are blurred together so that students (in her case specifically females) hear a message that choosing to dress outside the uniform or dress code of their school or institutions invites an attack on their personal integrity. It is painful to read about her negative experiences as a high school student. While she is just one person with one experience, her voice speaks for many who feel the same way.In my own classroom, I choose to enforce the school dress code without stressing any link to halacha. Lettering on your sweatshirt or a shirt without a collar are of the same level of violation as a mini skirt or coming to class without a kippah. There is no punishment for violation, but there is a quarterly incentive for compliance (5 points on a test or an exemption from a quiz).I wonder if we should give thought to doing away with the halachik dress code in our schools. Perhaps this is a battle that we don’t want to fight with our students during these years. Maybe the focus should be on their connection to Torah, to Judaism and helping them navigate the tough years of adolescence so they leave high school as mindful, thoughtful Jews. As educators, we have a limited amount of time with our students. We pick and choose in our curriculum knowing that we cannot teach them everything, and we hope that we instill in them a thirst to learn more when they leave high school. Maybe along those lines, we should choose to overlook outward dress for now and focus on their “insides”- their growth as caring, committed young adults. While I know this suggestion would need to be “unpacked” by each school as they see fit, I believe it is one to seriously consider as we move forward in Jewish education.
I have been thinking about the study of aggadata and was wondering if a sugya approach is methodologically sound. For the halachic parts of the gemara, it is a given to look at the various times a topic arises and compare and contrast.