My Stubborn and Unpopular Educational Belief

This can be regarded as a follow-up to my educational philosophy statement. It’s the text of an email I recently sent to one of my former students in response to a question she asked about my educational philosophy. Consequently, there is some overlap with what I explicitly stated in my educational philosophy statement, but the main thing I wanted to do here was to articulate one of the premises of my educational philosophy. 

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My Stubborn and Unpopular Educational Belief

My stubborn and unpopular belief is that every student loves learning. Many of them either don't know it yet, or they've had the love of learning nearly snuffed out by their educational experiences.

The basis of my belief is my premise that every human being is created b'tzelem Elokim. According to my understanding, this means that every human being has the capacity for conceptual understanding and abstract thinking, as well as an innate drive to seek out knowledge of truth for its own sake. 

It is this fundamental belief about human nature which impels me, as a teacher of Torah, to treat every student with respect as a fellow truth-seeking mind, and to treat every question as a potential catalyst of tzelem Elokim development. Although I do care about teaching specific ideas with clarity, and hope that students remember what they learn in my classes, this isn't my main goal. My main goal is to awaken the latent tzelem Elokim in my students, and to equip them with the tools - in the realm of chochmah (intellect) and mussar (middos) - to live as a tzelem Elokim, the ultimate level of which is making good bechirah (free will) decisions on the basis of their tzelem Elokim, reaching ahavas Hashem (love of God) and yiras Hashem (fear of God) and learning lishmah (for its own sake). If a student walked away from my class with an enhanced love of learning, but without remembering a single idea I taught her, then I would still be happy and consider my job well done.

I referred to this belief of mine as "unpopular" because I do not think that this belief is shared by all teachers. Some profess it in speech, but don't believe it in their minds or in their hearts. Others don't even profess it. For example, there are teachers who believe that kids need to be instilled by their parents and teachers with a desire to learn, and that this desire is not natural. Others maintain that students need to be bribed - with praise, with grades, and with other "carrots" - or threatened with punishment in order to "get them to want to learn." Others take a religious angle, attempting to instill their students with a drive to learn as an act of avodas Hashem (divine service). Others believe that some kids do have a natural desire to learn, whereas others just "aren't cut out for learning." These teachers are usually quick to give up on those whom they perceive to be in the latter category.

I maintain that all of these teachers are wrong. I walk into my classroom - whether it's filled with old students or new students - with the assumption that EVERY student has an innate love of learning, an innate enjoyment of thinking, and an innate sense of curiosity. In many cases, these innate potentials are latent, or suppressed, or even crippled by years of educational abuse - but they're there. My job is to awaken the potential thinker in all students, to the extent that I can, and nurture them with good ideas, good thinking, and good, enjoyable learning. I refer to this belief of mine as "stubborn" because I am so convinced it is true that I will be willing to continue operating on this premise even when all evidence points to the fact that a given student is not interested in learning. 

This reminds me of a conversation I had a few years ago with someone I went to high school with, who is currently a rebbi at [insert name of well-known school]. He and I were talking about my educational approach, which he was familiar with from our teachers at [insert name of my high school alma mater]. I will never forget what he told me. He said, "Your whole approach of getting kids into learning by answering their questions and teaching them to think ... maybe that used to work, but it's an outdated approach. Kids these days aren't interested in thinking. They want a kesher (personal connection) with their rebbi. That's the best way to reach them. Not by answering questions." 

I couldn't believe how diametrically opposed our approaches were. This is a rebbi who uses methods like having kumzitzes (singing sessions) during shiur (Torah class), baking cookies for his talmidim (students), putting his arm on their shoulder, artificially attempting to rev up enthusiasm with phrases like, "Isn't this Toisfis geshmack?" and "We're going to learn some heilga TOIRAH!" Those methods in and of themselves aren't inherently problematic, but when "that outdated method" of thinking-based Torah is replaced with such devices, then that is worse than misguided; it's evil. 

I will not deny that this approach "works" for some kids. I say "works" (in quotation marks) because I maintain that this type of approach cannot serve as a foundation that's made to last. Like any emotionally-fueled approach, it will only "work" while the emotional mood is active and kept at a heightened level, and the nature of all emotional moods is that they cannot remain at a constant state forever. Someone who subscribes to such an approach will ride the high until it starts to wear off, and will then desperately try to chase after another high to keep his religiosity going. At "best," he'll spend his life repeatedly chasing such highs, like a drug addict. At worst, the high will wear off, and he'll drop his religiosity, or rebel against it. 

My approach is made to last because it is based on the higher part of our human nature as tzelem Elokim. Moreover, for those students of mine who are inducted into the world of Mishlei and Koheles, my approach is also based on the lower part of our human nature as pleasure-seeking pain-avoiding animals. By showing that Torah has a rational basis which satisfies the intellect, while simultaneously providing a way of life which results in maximum pleasure and minimum pain, I am appealing to the entire human being which, as Aristotle defined, is a "rational animal." Even if a student discontinues learning after high school, the part of the student which I awakened is their essence. I did not merely put them into a certain mood by singing a zemer or making them feel a kesher with their rebbi. I activated their humanity. 

I should mention that I am not trying to dismiss or downplay those whose attachment to Torah and Judaism is purely or largely emotional. That's a good thing, just as any she'lo lishmah is a good thing - at least, in potential. But I am intentionally objecting to Torah educators who believe that such an approach is an ideal, and that the "radical" approach of "appealing to the mind" is an "outdated" method. They are wrong, and their wrongness does harm.

And so I will continue to teach in accordance with my stubborn and unpopular belief, and let the results speak for themselves.  

The Harmful Notion of the "Jewish Soul"

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The Harmful Notion of the "Jewish Soul"

Disclaimer and Context

This is more of a "rant" than a strictly "lishmah" post. I have consciously chosen to write this post as more polemical than dialectical. For this reason, do not expect this to be a comprehensive treatment of the topic at hand, in which both sides of the issue are examined from a detached, analytical, non-judgmental perspective. Unlike most of the posts on this blog, which I strive to write from a neutral standpoint, this post has an agenda: to articulate why I object to the notion of "Jewish souls."

I think it would help to provide some context for how I came to write this post. Last week I was invited to join a new (secret) Facebook support group for gerim (converts). Hearing so many personal stories of discrimination and insensitivity towards gerim has caused me to revisit some of the ger-related topics which I hadn't thought about for a while.

In Friday's dvar Torah (Which Souls Were at Sinai?) I mentioned a pet peeve of mine: when born-Jews learn that I'm a ger (convert) and exclaim, "Oh, but you're such a good Jew! You CLEARLY must have been born with a Jewish soul!" or "You CLEARLY have a spark of Yiddishkeit in your soul!" or "You MUST have had a Jewish ancestor, and now your Yiddishe neshamah (Jewish soul) is just finding its way back home!" 

I am irked by comments like these for three reasons: (1) they are racist, in the sense of being "anti-goyim," (2) they minimize my journey to Judaism and my conversion, and (3) according to my understanding, the notion of a "Jewish soul" is false. 

We will now discuss each of these three reasons. 

Reason #1: Racism / Anti-Gentilism

I know that in most cases, born-Jews don't mean anything bad or malicious by such statements, but that doesn't change the anti-goyim undertones of their words. The underlying message I hear in their words is: "It simply cannot BE that you were once a GOY! Goyim can't POSSIBLY be part of the Jewish people! Therefore, you MUST have been a Jew SOMEHOW! Heaven FORFEND that a dirty goyishe neshamah could have found its way into our holy ranks!"

Now, before any of the born-Jews start "Jewsplaining" to me how I'm reading too much into statements like these, let's see if we can agree to the following four points: (1) there are born-Jews who say these things WITHOUT these intentions, even on an unconscious level; (2) there are born-Jews people who say these things who DO harbor such intentions, even though they aren't aware of them or don't mean anything bad by them; (3) there are geirim who are NOT bothered by such comments, and might even find them to be welcoming and affirming of their Jewish identity; (4) you, as a born-Jew, have never been on the receiving end of comments like these, and therefore, you have a different perspective than I do; you are certainly entitled to your opinion, but you cannot tell me how I feel. 

I've even had students who love my classes and have learned from me for years, but will nevertheless speak in my presence about "the disgusting goyim" and how "goyim don't have souls" or how "goyim were made to be our slaves." Whenever I hear such comments I usually respond, "You know, I used to be a 'disgusting goy.' Are you saying that I didn't have a soul? Was I born to be your slave" to which they respond, "No, Rabbi ______, I wasn't talking about YOU! Obviously YOU are different!" These kids are too young to realize the weaknesses of "the friend argument" (i.e. "I'm not racist! I have friends who are black!"), but that is essentially the argument they're trying to make.

It's no secret that Jewish tribalism and elitism has always "been a thing" in our nation, and has been reinforced by millennia of Antisemitism. This is understandable, and even excusable insofar as it is a natural defense mechanism which is (arguably) necessary for Jewish survival. But the historical reality of Antisemitism certainly does not validate anti-goyim beliefs or sentiments, nor does it justify making anti-goyim remarks in the presence of those of us who used to be goyim.

Reason #2: Minimization of Geirus (Conversion)

When you tell a ger (whether explicitly or implicitly) that he or she "was destined to be Jewish," be aware that you might be perceived by the ger to be minimizing the significance and/or hardship of his or her journey and conversion process. 

There are so many different types of paths that people take to Judaism, some of which are harder than others. I have heard horror stories from gerim that you wouldn't believe, filled with instances abuse, discrimination, and despicable behavior from Jewish laypeople and rabbis alike. Think about what it means to tell a person who has been through such a difficult journey, "Oh, that? Yeah. That wasn't your free will decision, and had nothing to do with your perseverance, or your love for Hashem and His Torah, or your sacrifices you made, or your trust in the truth of your convictions, or your courage. It was in your spiritual DNA. You were basically programmed to follow this path. It had to happen." 

Would you ever say something like this to a veteran who survived a war, or to someone who went through therapy, or to a person who is in recovery from an addiction? These may sound like "negative" comparisons to geirus, but they are apt analogies for those whose path to Judaism was fraught with challenges and hardships. 

Without knowing the full story of the ger to whom you are speaking, making statements such as these can easily stray into the territory of onaas ha'ger (abusing a convert).

Every day, those who are born Jewish make the berachah of "she'lo asani goy" ("Blessed are You, Hashem, King of the universe, Who did not make me a gentile"). I, as a ger, do not make that berachah because Hashem did make me a goy. [1] Let me say that again: Hashem made me a goy, and I chose to become a ger. Don't minimize my life and my decisions by telling me that my soul was already Jewish. 

Reason #3: Falsehood

Since the topic of "the soul" is extremely broad and deep, I will confine my remarks here to a general summary of my reasons for rejecting the notion of a "Jewish soul," and point the way to resources for further reading.

As far as I know, based on my own research and the research of academic scholars I have read on this matter, the idea of a "Jewish soul" is an entirely "Kabbalistic" [2] and/or Chasidic concept. The distinction between Jewish and non-Jewish souls cannot be found anywhere in the Written Torah, the Oral Torah, or in any of the non-"Kabbalistic" works of the Kadmonim [3]. Sure, it can be read into these sources - but if you learn through these classical sources on their own terms, without the influence of "Kabbalah" or Chasidus, you would not encounter any distinction between Jewish and non-Jewish souls. 

Does this lack of sources mean that this belief is false? Not necessarily. "Ee efshar l'beis midrash b'lo chidush - it is impossible to have a study hall without innovation" (Chagigah 3a). Nevertheless, whenever I see a concept which only appears in "Kabbalistic"/Chasidic sources with no basis in the Written Torah, the Oral Torah, or the writings of the non-"Kabbalistic" Kadmonim, then I am suspicious - especially if the concept in question is purported to be a fundamental of Judaism. If there is no evidence that Chazal and the Kadmonim were aware of a particular concept, then at the very least, this means that it is not an essential part of Judaism. At worst, this means that it is not part of Judaism at all. 

According to my understanding of the Written Torah, the Oral Torah, and the writings of the non-"Kabbalistic" Kadmonim, people only have one kind of soul: a human soul. This is the soul that the Torah refers to when it says: "And God said, 'Let us make man in our form (b'tzalmeinu), like our likeness (ki'dmuseinu)'" (Bereishis 1:26) and "God created man in His tzelem (form); in tzelem Elokim He created him; male and female He created them" (ibid. 1:27) and "Hashem-God formed the man of dust from the ground, and He blew into his nostrils nishmas chayim (the soul/breath) of life, and man became a nefesh chaya (living/speaking soul)" (ibid. 2:7).

According to all of the Kadmonim, the tzelem Elokim refers to the human intellect: man's capacity to apprehend and seek conceptual knowledge and understanding. There is no inherent difference between the tzelem Elokim of a Jew and that of a non-Jew. Frankly, I don't even know what it would mean to differentiate between a "Jewish intellect" and a "non-Jewish intellect." [4] 

The distinction between Jew and non-Jew is a legal one - not metaphysical one. In other words, "Jew" and "non-Jew" are halachic labels, indicating the particular system of Divine law by which one is legally bound. A Jew is someone who has entered into the covenant of Torah - whether by birth or by conversion - and is legally obligated to keep the system of Taryag mitzvos (613 Commandments). Non-Jews, on the other hand, are only obligated to keep the Sheva Mitzvos Bnei Noach (Seven Noahide Commandments), which have been binding on all humans since the time of Noach, and which were "renewed" with the giving of Torah at Sinai. [5] 

Maybe someday I'll write a post in which I compile sources from the Kadmonim which state these points explicitly, alongside a list of the "Kabbalistic"/Chasidic sources which assert a metaphysical distinction between the souls of Jews and non-Jews. However, as I pointed out in my disclaimer, this is a polemical post - not a dialectical one. Suffice it to say, the burden of proof is on the "Kabbalists"/Chasidim to show that their belief has its source in the Mesorah (or to show that their belief is valid despite not having a source in the Mesorah). 

[Incidentally, if you would like to peruse a fairly comprehensive list of sources from both sides, check out The Soul of a Jew and the Soul of a Non-Jew, by Hanan Balk, published in Hakirah. This article also does a great job of illustrating why I consider the belief in "Jewish souls" to be harmful, dangerous, and repugnant.]

There is only one of the Kadmonim who, at first glance, might seem to hold that Jews and non-Jews have different souls: R' Yehuda ha'Levi. In his famous work, "the Kuzari," R' Yehuda ha'Levi [6] writes that only Jews possess the "Inyan ha'Elohi" ("divine quality") - a metaphysical quality which allows Jews to become prophets. Non-Jews do not have the Inyan ha'Elohi. Not only that, but even gerim lack the Inyan ha'Elohi; our conversion doesn't endow our souls with this special quality that only born-Jews possess.

Much has been written about R' Yehuda ha'Levi's view on this matter, but for the purposes of this post we are only interested in one thing: Does this view of Inyan ha'Elohi imply that the souls of Jews and non-Jews are inherently different? The answer is: no. R' Yehuda ha'Levi clearly held that Jews are born with a special quality which non-Jews lack, but their souls are fundamentally the same. Professor Menachem Kellner expressed this eloquently in his book, Maimonides' Confrontation with Mysticism:

It is important to emphasize: Halevi does not affirm that Jews differ biologically from non-Jews, that Jews have special souls, or that Jews are a species apart. He does not hold that non-Jews are any less created in the image of God than are Jews. He maintains that Jews have a special property (the potential to become prophets) lacking in non-Jews. This property is in some fashion (never explained by Halevi) transmitted through lineage. 

[For a detailed exposition and clarification of R' Yehuda ha'Levi's view, I recommend Professor Norman Strickman's article Misrepresenting Rabbi Judah Ha-Levi.]

The bottom line: I will continue to maintain that the Kadmonim did not recognize any difference between the soul of a Jew and that of a non-Jew, until someone shows me that I am incorrect. The only difference between a Jew and a non-Jew is obligation in mitzvos. Our souls are inherently the same. [7]

Jews and Non-Jews: A Common Soul, and a Common Path

I'd like to end this post on a more positive note.

Because Jews and non-Jews have the same human soul, we share a common path. As we said before, the Torah that Hashem gave through Moshe Rabbeinu was intended for Jews and non-Jews alike; the only difference is which system of mitzvos we are legally obligated to keep. According to Judaism, a righteous non-Jew has a portion in the World to Come. [8] Not only that, but a non-Jew is capable of reaching the same spiritual heights as a Jew. Adam ha'Rishon, Shem, Eiver, Chanoch, Noach, and Avraham Avinu were all non-Jews - yet, all of them were able to achieve high levels of closeness to God. The Gemara says (Sanhedrin 59a):

R' Meir says: How do we know that even a non-Jew who involves himself in the study of Torah is equal to a Kohen Gadol (High Priest)? As it is stated, "[You shall observe My decrees and My laws,] which man shall carry out and by which he shall live" (Vayikra 18:5) - it does not say, "Kohanim, Levites, and Israelites" but man. From here we learn that even a non-Jew who involves himself in the study of Torah is equal a Kohen Gadol.

The Rambam [9] codifies this principle at the end of his discussion about the special role of Shevet Levi (the Tribe of Levi). He writes:

Why didn’t the Tribe of Levi merit in the inheritance of the Land of Israel and its spoils along with their brethren? Because they are set aside to serve Hashem and to minister to Him and to teach His upright ways and righteous laws to the masses, as it is stated, “They shall teach Your laws to Yaakov and Your teachings to Israel” (Devarim 33:10). 

Therefore, they are separated from the ways of the world. They do not go to war like the rest of Israel, nor do they receive an inheritance, nor do they acquire for themselves with their bodily power, but rather, they are the legion of Hashem, as it is stated: “Bless, O Hashem, His legion” (ibid. 33:11), and He, Blessed is He, provides for them, as it is stated: “I Am your Portion and your Inheritance” (Bamidbar 18:20).  

Not only the Tribe of Levi, but each and every member of humanity whose spirit generously moves him and whose understanding of his knowledge [of all existing things causes him] to separate himself to stand before Hashem to minister unto Him and to serve Him in order to know Hashem, and to walk with uprightness as God made him, removing from his neck the yoke of the many calculations which people seek – he becomes sanctified as holy of holies. God will be His portion and heritage forever and ever, and He will provide what is sufficient for him in this world like He provides for the Kohanim and the Levites. And thus David declared: “Hashem is the lot of my portion; You are my cup; You support my lot” (Tehilim 16:5). 

This halacha is predicated upon the fact that Jews and non-Jews possess the same tzelem Elokim, and are drawn to the truth in the same way, as the Rambam [10] writes in Hilchos Teshuvah:

He instilled within them the capacity to learn and to understand - for this tendency is present in every man, that the more he is drawn after the ways of chochmah (wisdom) and tzedek (righteousness), the more he desires them and pursues them. 

Yes, it is true that our nation has a special status among the nations of the world. Nevertheless, our national identity as "the Chosen People" does not indicate any inherent superiority on our part, nor does it imply that Jews have different souls. Rather, it is a reference to our role in humanity: to be "a kingdom of priests and a holy nation" (Shemos 19:6), to teach mankind to fear and love Hashem. 

It is for this reason that the prophets promise that one day, all of humanity will be united by our pursuit of knowledge of Hashem, which stems from the tzelem Elokim within each and every human being. "For the earth will be filled with knowledge of Hashem, as water covers the sea bed" (Yeshayahu 11:9). "On that day, Hashem will be One and His Name will be One" (Zechariah 14:9).

[1] To my knowledge there is no non-"Kabbalistic" halachic view which maintains that a ger should make the berachah of she'lo asani goy. If anyone knows of such a view, please let me know.

[2] I have chosen to write the word "Kabbalistic" in quotation marks so as not to enter into the dicey analysis of which so-called "kabbalistic sources" are authentic, which are innovations, and which are fabrications. All I mean by "Kabbalistic" (with quotation marks) is that the proponents of these works consider them to be Kabbalistic. 

[3] By "Kadmonim" I am referring to the Geonim, Rishonim, and early Achronim. These Kadmonim include, but are not limited to: Rambam, R' Avraham ben ha'Rambam, Rav Hai Gaon, Saadia Gaon, Ramban, Ibn Ezra, Ralbag, Rabbeinu Bachya ibn Paquda, Rif, Sforno, Rashba, Rashi, Baalei Tosafos, Ritva, Radak, Rashbam, R' Yosef Albo, R' Yehudah ha'Levi, Meiri, Avudarham, Raavad, Ran, Rabbeinu Yonah, Sefer Ha'Chinuch, Abravanel, Chazkuni, Rabbeinu Bachye ben Asher, Rosh, Tur, and more. See my post Neglecting the Thinkers of the Past for more details on this group.
[4] It can be argued that there are "Jewish types of thinking" (e.g. Talmudic analysis, Scriptural analysis in accordance with the principles of Torah she'baal Peh), and one can even try to argue that there are quantitative differences between the intellects of Jews and non-Jews (though I personally don't buy this), but these are a far cry from claiming that there is a qualitative difference between a Jewish intellect and a non-Jewish one.
[5] Taryag is a regimen designed to bring those who practice it properly to true human perfection, whereas the system of Sheva Mitzvos Bnei Noach is designed to keep mankind from descending to the level of animals, thereby granting them the opportunity to pursue human perfection on their own, or with the aid of the Torah regimen.

[6] Rabbeinu Yehuda ha'Levi, Kuzari 1:95

[7] There is also an ideological definition of Jew, as defined by the first mishnah in the 10th chapter of Sanhedrin, whose meaning and implications are heavily debated by the meforshim (commentators). This definition of Jew is even narrower than the halachic definition. In other words, there are a significant number of people who are halachic Jews (i.e. they are obligated to keep Taryag), but are not considered a part of the Jewish people (i.e. they do not hold by the foundational ideas that define the people "Israel"). This is a separate topic, but I thought it would be worthwhile to mention in passing.

[8] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Mishneh Torah: Sefer Shoftim, Hilchos Melachim 8:11

[9] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Mishneh Torah: Sefer Zeraim, Hilchos Shemitah v'Yovel 13:12-13

[10] Rabbeinu Moshe ben Maimon (Rambam / Maimonides), Mishneh Torah: Sefer ha'Mada, Hilchos Teshuvah 6:4

Reactions to Frum Garb on a Flier

This post started off as a "musings"/reaction post. Once I started writing it, I realized that I have never written a blog post about Tzfanya's criticism of religious garb. I might come back and write a full post on that nevuah in the future. For now, I'll just reference it in the context of my reaction, and leave the readers to draw their own conclusions. 

Reactions to Frum Garb on a Flier

This past weekend I came across a flier that someone had left on a table in my yeshiva. I will not mention the name of the organization associated with the flier because I don't want anyone to mistakenly view this blog post as a criticism of that organization.

According to the flier, objective of the organization in question is "helping teens and young adults overcome life’s everyday challenges one step at a time" and "to provide all of our members with the necessary tools and skills to empower them to live a healthy and productive lifestyle and become the leaders of tomorrow." 

Sounds good, right? I certainly think so. And from what I've heard, the organization does good work, and provides a variety of much needed services for those who have nowhere else to turn. 

But what bothered me was the picture on the flier: 

This picture shows a Jewish teenager from behind, divided vertically down the center. The right half of him is wearing a blue t-shirt, a backwards baseball cap, and a golden necklace. In the background is a dingy pool hall. The left half of him is wearing a black jacket, a white shirt, and a black velvet yarmulke. In the background is a throng of similarly dressed yeshivish bochrim, all shteiging away in a beis medrash. 

I found this image to be upsetting on multiple levels. My reaction can be summed up in three parts:

Reaction #1: How does this make the target audience feel?

I thought to myself: If I were a Jewish teen who happened to dress like the boy in the right half of the photo, what message would I feel is being communicated to me by the people who made this flier? Probably something along the lines of:

"Hey there, young man. Do you look like THIS? ::: points to image on the right side ::: Ah, you do? Well, WE think you're broken, troubled, and in dire need of help and salvation. It's clear from what you're wearing; there's no denying it. But have no fear! Come to US and WE'LL fix you right up! We'll have you looking like THIS ::: points to image on the left side ::: in no time!"

How would that message make me feel? Certainly not respected, or recognized for who I am. I'd feel like I was being pigeon-holed based on my appearances. I'd feel like I was being patronized by those who purport to have my best interests in mind. And if I were on the fence about attending the program, seeing this flier certainly wouldn't help push me in the right direction.

Reaction #2: Do they really expect this approach to work?

I really wonder what the people who designed the flier were thinking. Do they really believe that a kid who dresses like this will see the flier and say, "Gee whiz! This is just the thing I was looking for! Finally I've been given a chance to shed this t-shirt and chain, escape the pool hall, and become shtark!"

If that's really what they were thinking, then perhaps they ought to rethink whether they should remain in the "youth organization" business. There are people out there who have great intentions and genuinely care about youth, but are so out of touch with the kids they work with that they set themselves up for failure without even realizing it.

Reaction #3: What would Tzfanya say?

But there is a more insidious message implicit in this flier: that a person's superficial trappings are indicative of one's religiosity. Yes, I realize that this critique cuts to a more fundamental problem in contemporary frum society - one which is not specific to the organization being advertised by the flier. But I was just dumbstruck by how blatantly this fallacy embodied in the flier.

I was reminded of a pasuk in Sefer Tzfanya, which doesn't get nearly as much press as it should (probably because Sefer Tzfanya doesn't get as much press as it should). The Navi says:

Be silent before Hashem-Elokim, for the day of Hashem is near! For Hashem has prepared a slaughter; He has invited His guests. And it will happen on the day of Hashem's slaughter that I will deal with the officials and the king's sons and all who wear foreign garments. And I will deal with all those who leap over the threshold on that day, [and with] those who fill the houses of their masters with injustice and deceit (Tzfanya 1:7-9).

The Radak cites a number of different interpretations of the phrase "kol ha'lovshim malbush nochri" ("all those who wear foreign garments"), but his last explanation is the one that I thought about when I saw this flier. He writes:

There are those who explain that this refers to people who outwardly act like prushim (those who "set themselves apart") and chasidim (men of piety) and wear foreign clothing which differs from the rest of the people, so that [the rest of the nation] will recognize them by their clothing as prushim - but [in truth,] their way is evil.

The Alshich takes this approach and elaborates on the motives of these wearers of foreign garments:

There are hypocrites who act pious in the eyes of the people, but are actually wicked; they wear the garments of the pious - such as large, decorated talleisos, and the like - to indicate that they are pious [servants of] the Most High, but they are secretly wicked.

As I stared at this flier, I could picture Tzfanya shaking his head. I suspect that if he were alive today, he would be dismayed by the degree to which so many factions within the Orthodox Jewish world focus more on how people dress than how they live.

I'm not saying that the people who made this flier genuinely believe that a person's religiosity is to be measured by their choice of clothing, but the flier definitely promotes that idea. Sadly, this flier is just a drop in the ocean of other influences which maintain and strengthen a Jewish culture in which externals are more important than internals, while Torah and mitzvos sit neglected in the corner.

There is much more to say on the topics raised here. My goal in this post was to share the image in the flier, along with my initial thoughts, for whatever insight they have to offer.

Sun Tzu: On Long School Days

Originally posted in August 2012.

I've been Sun Tzu's The Art of War - one of the most ancient, and certainly the most famous treatise on military strategy - with the goal of applying its principles to classroom teaching. I don't know whether this will actually become a series, but if it does, I shall call it: "Sun Tzu: The Art of Classroom Teaching." 

Sun Tzu: The Art of Classroom Teaching - Long School Days

I have taught in three different Jewish high schools. These three schools had at least one thing in common: a very, very, very long school day. On the left you'll see the daily schedule for the school at which I currently teach. However, the times alone do not tell the full story. Let's start from the beginning.

Students who live locally can probably afford a reasonable 7:00am wake-up time. Students who live "across town" (who constitute a third of our student body) have to wake up at 6:00am or earlier in order to catch the bus, since the bus makes several dozen stops along the way. When students arrive at school, they are immediately herded into to a single room to endure a lengthy (usually 40 minute) shacharis. Davening is often followed by either announcements, a dvar Torah of sorts, or both. Students are subsequently released to their precious 10-15 minutes of breakfast and socializing time.

Then the morning classes begin. Students are shunted from class to class for the next three hours and twenty minutes. Each class is exactly 38 minutes long. Students are given 2 minutes to get from one classroom to the other, and there are no other breaks in between. This allows for just enough time for them to pack up their belongings, rush to their lockers to retrieve any books or materials they need, dash to their new class, and sit down before the teacher takes attendance. If they need to use the restroom (or take some time to breathe), they must leave in the middle of class, so as not to be marked tardy at the beginning of the period - unless, of course, they are unfortunate enough to have a teacher who prohibits students to leave during class time. (And yes, such teachers still exist.)

Then comes lunch time: the 40 minutes of freedom and redemption for which they yearn all morning long. Here they finally get a chance to unwind, to socialize, to relax, and to tend to their bodily functions.

Before they realize it, their prison sentence resumes with the onset of the dreaded Double Period. For the next hour and 16 minutes - which, to children whose waking life is divided into 40 minute chunks, must feel like an eternity - students are subjected to a double period of a class. The more merciful teachers (such as myself) give them a short break in the middle, but other teachers keep them in their seats for the entire period. The fact that this double-period occurs right after lunch makes it even more intolerable.

After the double-period, students are given a generous four minutes before their next class starts. They have one more 38-minute class, followed by a 16 minute "break" after each of them davens minchah on her own. This tefilah will necessarily be rushed, since the sooner they get done with minchah, the more free time they'll have. Then comes the home stretch: three more 38-minute class periods. The light is visible at the end of the tunnel (except in the dead of winter, when its dark by the time students leave).

Finally, at 5:15, the school day ends. The fortunate students who live locally arrive at home by 5:45 at the latest. The students from the other side of town must suffer on the long bus ride with its many stops. Some don't get home until 7:00pm. And that's on days when they don't have any after-school sports or activities. 

But it doesn't end there. School extends its pale and spindly arms into the privacy of students' homes in the form of homework and studying. By "studying" I don't mean "learning" or "Torah lishmah." I am referring to the dreadful task of "learning" (read: memorizing) material for The Big Test. If the student is efficient and/or hasty enough, he or she might still manage to find a few hours (often, the wee hours of the morning) to have some time for friends, hobbies, relaxation, and socializing. But these hours are few and far between. Inmates at correctional facilities have more time to reflect on their lives than high schoolers. It's no wonder so many of students appear bleary-eyed and soul-stricken at the beginning of the school day.

Oh, I forgot to mention: I've only been talking about the schedule for the all-girls school. The all-boys school I taught at last year had all of that, plus an extended Thursday evening learning schedule - which would last several hours into the night - AND a half day of school every other Sunday.

Now before you start quoting to me Gemaras about the intensive type of schooling system advocated by Chazal, I'm going to stop you right there. My rant in this post is based purely on my own observations. The guidelines, halachos, and ideals set forth in the Mesora must be understood and taken into account, but the first step is to recognize the reality that confronts us at the present.

General Sun Tzu: 544 B.C.E. - 496 B.C.E.

This brings us to The Art of War. Sun Tzu said:

2:2 - When you engage in actual fighting, if victory is long in coming, the men's weapons will grow dull and their ardor will be damped. If you lay siege to a town, you will exhaust your strength.  

2:3 - Again, if the campaign is protracted, the resources of the State will not be equal to the strain.  

2:4 - Now, when your weapons are dulled, your ardor damped, your strength exhausted, and your treasure spent, other chieftains will spring up to take advantage of your extremity. Then no man, however wise, will be able to avert the consequences that must ensue.

Like many of Sun Tzu's teachings, the truth of these statements is evident. If you exhaust your soldiers, whether physically or psychologically, then your chances of victory are severely diminished, and in your weakened state, you will be open to defeat from a multitude of causes, from within and without.

What is true for actual milchamah is also true in the Milchamta shel Torah (the War of Torah). In my few years of teaching experience, I have found that most students are alert and eager to learn for the first five periods of the day, but as the afternoon drags on, they become increasingly weary. They become restless and fidgety, they lose focus, their "misbehavior" increases tenfold, and the overall quality of their learning suffers. By the time they get to the final periods of the day (which, thankfully, I have never had to teach), their minds have already left the building.

And the students aren't the only ones who are affected by the length of the day. The teachers who teach full-time are also exhausted by the intense schedule. For example, in my second year of teaching there were some days of the week when I'd show up at 8:00, teach six back-to-back-classes (with a couple of short breaks thrown in), then drive off to another school and teach for two full periods. I was able to teach effectively for the first six periods, but by the time I got to the afternoon classes, I was spent. My own exhaustion, when combined with the post-lunch exhaustion of the students, made for a bad mix. Those were not my proudest teaching times. I don't know whether any objective comparison can be made between the exhaustion of the students and that of the teachers, but neither are pleasant, and each exacerbates the other.

Artwork: Diminishing Returns, by L.A. Williams

The lesson here can be summed up by borrowing a phrase from Chazal: "tafasta merubah, lo tafasta" (Chagigah 17a) which may be loosely rendered as “If you try to grab a lot, you'll end up not grabbing anything at all.” I understand that Jewish schools are under a lot of pressure to help their students achieve success in limudei kodesh and the so-called "secular studies," but I wonder how many administrators have stopped to seriously consider the question of whether their ambition has lead to a diminishing returns sort of effect. Are we trying to accomplish too much? And could we accomplish even more by doing less? 

In any endeavor one can only push a human being so far for so long before the productivity level begins to decrease. Has our Jewish day school system reached this point, with its 12-period dual-curriculum school days? And how much of the problem has to do with the educational approach we have been duped into adopting? Personally, I think that if the day were less structured, and students had the freedom to learn what interests them, they'd be able to increase the quality and the quantity of their learning.

The need for reform is dire, but the prospects are dim. In major Jewish centers, such as New York and Baltimore (and probably elsewhere), any Jewish school that attempted to cut its curriculum or shorten its school day would immediately lose students whose parents would be afraid that their kids were at a disadvantage compared to the more "traditional" schools (whose "tradition" is not rooted in our Mesora).

I don't know of a good solution, but recognizing the problem is an important first step.