When I saw this article, I thought it made some very important points in our ongoing discussion about what we should be doing in Jewish Education today. Let's discuss!
With these words, Jessica Yanow, my best friend since we were eight years old, began reflecting on her own Jewish upbringing and education. Growing up in Skokie, Illinois, it was impossible not to feel, at the very least, culturally Jewish. There was a bagel store in every strip mall, and a synagogue every few blocks.
Jessica’s grandparents belonged to a Traditional synagogue, and they encouraged Jessica’s mother to enroll her in Sunday School there. Though the level of observance differed from what she was seeing at home, Jessica attended for a few years. When she was in second grade, her mother gave her a choice – she could keep attending Sunday School, or she could stop. Jessica explained, “At that age, I would guess that most children would choose not to go to any additional school. There was no discussion, as far as I can remember, with regards to later implications, like the fact that I wouldn’t have a Bat Mitzvah. So, of course, I said, ‘No, I don’t want to go to Sunday School.’”
I cannot express how much this one story has affected my rabbinate. I often hear young parents wrestling over whether or not to “force” their children to attend religious school. Likewise, I hear students bemoan the fact that they are “stuck” going to religious school every week. And, yet, I inevitably share Jessica’s story with them all, for this reason: Now that she is an adult, she deeply regrets not attending religious school, not building her Jewish identity from a younger age, and not celebrating Bat Mitzvah at 13.
Interestingly, and perhaps not consciously, Jessica found other ways of engaging in Judaism as a teen. Jessica was active in our local Kadima chapter in junior high, and then we were all board members of my temple’s Youth Group in high school. She took Hebrew as a foreign language at our public high school. She traveled to Israel during the summer before college, and then we both began our studies at Brandeis University (where feeling Jewish is unavoidable).
Surrounded by Jews of all stripes, Jessica was now confronted by her lack of Jewish knowledge and personal connection to her heritage. For the first time, she truly regretted her decision to halt her religious education. Thus, she continued studying Hebrew, added three semesters of Yiddish, and read as many Jewish books as she could.
Fast-forward to now, and she is living in Phoenix, married, and mother to an amazing four-year-old son (who calls me “Auntie Marci,” which makes me giggle ALL the time). She and her husband have chosen to send their son to a pre-school at a local Reform synagogue. She hopes that they will become more involved in the coming years, and perhaps she will study towards Adult Bat Mitzvah. I asked her how she feels now that she is the parent.
She delights in spending every Friday morning at the preschool’s Tot Shabbat celebration. She loves learning more about the holidays alongside her son. She was pleasantly humbled when he came home one day, looked at the family’s dormant candlesticks, and asked, “Mommy, why don’t we light Shabbat candles on Friday nights?”
Jessica is but one case, but she exemplifies so many adults in today’s Reform congregations. For a variety of reasons, we have men and women who feel detached, alienated, or lacking in some way. Some of these adults will never set foot in the temple except to send their kids to religious school and then leave as soon as their youngest child turns thirteen.
However, others are longing for connection, and they wish desperately that someone would reach out to them. These folks may be intimidated by adult education offerings, fearful that their lack of learning will be a source of embarrassment. To all of these people, I say, you are welcome here! You belong here! You are a crucial part of the fabric of the Jewish community, and you needn’t be afraid! Jewish learning is possible throughout our entire lives, whether or not we started our learning when we were young.
As adults, it is our job to model the importance of a strong Jewish education – not just by sending our children to religious school, but by finding ways to continually enhance our own understanding of Judaism. Imagine how little we would understand about the world if we had stopped our secular studies at age 13! This month, the Union for Reform Judaism is highlighting various ways of approaching Lifelong Jewish Learning, and I encourage you to look for inspiring ideas and topics on their website: http://urj.org/learning/. I’m sure that, with a bit of searching, you will find something that works for you.
Oh, and, by the way, Jessica will not be giving her son a choice. He will go to religious school through Bar Mitzvah, at the very least. No doubt about it.
Once again, as Blogger failed to save a well-though out comment before it was posted (and this seems to happen a lot on this particular Blog, Ira, though I've no idea why) I now have to attempt to recreate what I thought was a brilliantly crafted response-but there's no way I'll ever be able to be as eloquent as I was in the lost words I just created minutes ago. Nevertheless, I'll try.
ReplyDeleteMy basic point is that this story provides only the most baseless of rationales, one that should hardly every be found compelling, and one easily seen-through by any child, let alone an adult. "You'll regret it when you're (or your children) are older" is a canard unworthy as a rationale for advocating for a Jewish education.
I share a lot in common with Jessica. I didn't get the Jewish education as a child. The closest I came was my parents giving me a choice when I was twelve: Have a bar mitzvah ceremony (even though I had never been to a day of religious education,) or we'll buy you a Steinwway. You bet I chose the piano, and I still have it. However, look where I am now. I am a professional Jew - educator, musician, and more. I am passionate about Judaism and Jewish education in particular. I want every child to have the opportunity of a Jewish education. Like Jessica, I overcame the childhood deficit. I have studied and worked hard to obtain a solid Jewish knowledge base. It seemed daunting at first, but I quickly discovered that just a little study already put me way ahead of the "typical" liberal Jew. (An experience many converts to Judaism also experience.) Nevertheless, I'll be learning the rest of my life. Jessica, too, made up for her childhood deficit - thus giving the lie to the very argument being made here. Children will see through this lie. It's a lousy and non-compelling argument for getting a Jewish education.
Many in my age group (mid-50s) had bad experiences in religious school. Their guilt at having a poor Jewish knowledge base is also a weak argument for sending their kids for a Jewish education. (I also admit, quite frankly, that had I been given a Jewish religious education as a child, it might not have been a bad experience for me.) In addition, today's religious school is a far cry from that of my childhood. Children are quite likely to have a good experience at religious school these days, despite all the sturm und drang surrounding the "state of Jewish education" these days (and I freely admit to being one of those contributing to the anxieties-yet I am also contributing actively to finding new ways to shape and continue Jewish education for the 21st century and beyond.)
Jessica means well with her desire to compel her son to continue his Jewish studies at least "through bar mitzvah." I submit this is little guarantee of his having a connection and involvement with the Jewish community after that.
All this being said, I do believe every Jewish child deserve and should receive a Jewish education. I believe parents have a right to insist on some things. Some parents may feel compelled to come up with sound aruments to convince their children to go along with their insistence. I wish them every luck in finding these rationales, for I am at a loss to provide truly convincing ones suitable for every situation. I do know that the use of aerie persiflage by resorting to lame arguments like "you'll regret it later" or "I had to go through it so you do too" is unlikely to be persuasive. So my take is this - search long and hard for a learning environment that you truly believe will be a positive one for your children. If you must, find a compelling argument, if you can, with which to soothe the rebellious angst of your children (but please, no lame rationales) otherwise, live up to your role a guide for your children and, in the current patois, just grow a pair and insist.
PS-and when insisting, don't set arbitrary end-points like "through bar mitzvah." That's wussing out. Make it clear to your children from the outset that this will be a life-long process.
ReplyDeleteOy-that's twice now I've lost my brilliant response-even learning from the first time and copying the text, only to lose it again. This seems to happen to me a lot on this particular blog, Ira, though I've no idea why. So the PS above has no context. I'll try for the third time to recreate my thoughts, though they continually less well written with each redo.
ReplyDeleteRabbi Bellows provides the weakest and lamest of arguments for giving children a Jewish education. "You'll regret it when you're (or your children) are older" is a poor rationale at best, and one children will easily see through. The argument is further weakened by the very story of Jessica's life, which in many ways parallels my own. I had no formal Jewish religious education as a child. The closest I came was at age 12 when my parents said "you can have a bar mitzvah (despite the fact I had never attended any religious education - only a Yiddish secular shul) or the Steinway piano. I chose the Steinway and still have it and use it daily. I found my way (back?) to Judaism as an adult, and like Jessica, was struck by my lack of knowledge. A lot of study (which will be ongoing all my life) gave me a solid Jewish base of knowledge, and, in an experience like that of many converts, I soon discovered it didn't take much study to already be beyond the level of many typical (liberal) Jews.
Here I am now a professional Jew - educator, musician, tech geek, and more. My lack of a formal Jewish education in my childhood didn't stop me. Didn't stop Jessica. She's now on the life-long learning path too.
Children will know that "you''ll regret is when you're older" is a canard. It's just not a compelling argument. "I had to go through it so you do it" is even less compelling. "I regret not having done it as a child" might seem a reasonable argument by a parent, but I know few children that will truly understand and find it that compelling.
To be honest, even as a Jewish educator, I'm at a lack of finding all that many arguments that would be compelling to a child. I'm somewhat in agreement with Rabbi Bellow's sentiment. Every Jewish child should have a Jewish education. I don't think we need to respond to their natural resistance with the aerie persiflage of lame rationales.
Jewish education today, despite all the sturm und drang about its state (and I readily admit to contributing to that discussion) is pretty good. Children are more likely to have a good experience. (By the same token, there's no conclusive evidence that I would have had a bad experience getting a childhood Jewish education in the 60s. I might have loved every minute of it!)
Parents - if you really believe you need a compelling argument to convince your children (and you can find one) by all means do. Otherwise, as they day in the current patois, grow a pair and just insist.
[Now the PS added above in the comment before this makes sense.]
Adrian
My thoughts are not new.
ReplyDeleteOne of the privileges and protections of being a child is to not be required to take on adult responsibilities. That includes the right to complain about being "made" to do something by ones' parents. By even thinking that we need to give our kids reasons and justifications is to give up some of our responsibilities as adults taking care of our children.
An early bedtime for children has many benefits. Yet do we expect our elementary school students to understand all those reasons and, by understanding, want to happily go to bed at 7:30 pm each night?
Does the bedtime remain the same over the course of a child's life? No. As the child ages, negotiations begin about changing the time, about different times on weekends, about how to expend enough energy to be tired enough to go to bed at the designated time, and on and on. Sometimes the parent/child negotiations on this topic take place often, sometimes every now and then. Sometimes decisions are made for unique events, sometimes a decision is made for a lengthy period of time.
No matter how the topic is approached, however, a child will eventually go to bed. Pulling all-nighters takes its toll, as does irregular bedtimes and too-little sleep.
That's my take on religious education. It's a given, a necessity which requires consistency for a healthy life, and something that evolves within each family.