Showing posts with label Jewish Education. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jewish Education. Show all posts

Friday, November 4, 2016

Let’s Play Two…

I do not typically share the articles from my Temple Bulletin on my blog. Their purpose is usually more focused on our congregation. This was my October article, and I want to use it (somewhat edited) to finish my 5 part series on the Neshama (soul) of baseball.)


The Neshama of Baseball

Let’s Play Two…

This has been an amazing summer for me. In our family we have had new jobs, a high school graduation and the last child is off to college. Special for us, but most of you have those things happening as well. If not this summer then another. Those of you that know me are aware that this summer has been amazing for me in particular for one other reason: The Chicago Cubs.

My Red Sox fan friends now chortle “Now that we’ve had a few World Series, it might as well be your turn.” And I remind them that Red Sox have NEVER been the longest suffering team in baseball. They missed that honor by ten years. And in 1918, they beat…the Cubs. But I digress.

My beloved team has been in first place the entire season. They last did that in 1969, and Mets fans know how that turned out. I digress again. I mention this here for two reasons: because I want to shout it from the roof tops and because I need to explain the baseball bat in my office. It is a metaphor for Jewish learning.

The bat is signed by Mr. Cub, Ernie Banks, one of the heroes of my childhood and was a gift to me from B’nai Israel on the occasion of my 10th anniversary as educator. Whenever someone said “Hey Ernie! It’s a beautiful day for a ball game!” he would respond: “Let’s play two!”

I would tell this story whenever teaching about the Yotzer or Ma'ariv prayers. These are prayers we say as part of our regular worship service, praising God for creating the world in which we live. (We say Yotzer in the morning and Ma'ariv at night.) I would explain that Ernie believed that when it is a beautiful day, we need to show God our appreciation by doing the things we love best and by sharing it with others we love. For Ernie it was playing baseball and sharing it with all of Chicago. I was fortunate enough to meet him in the 80’s and confirm that is what he meant.

So what does the bat have to do with Jewish learning? Jewish learning – doing it myself or facilitating it for others – is thing I love doing best. Ernie’s bat reminds me that no matter the weather outside, it is ALWAYS a beautiful day for Jewish learning.

Whatever your age it is a beautiful day for Jewish learning.

Our Bonim Pre-school gets fully underway next week (We write these a month prior to publication), followed quickly by Religious School and Merkaz. Our Religious School Vision Team has already begun learning as part of the URJ Reimagining Jewish Education Community of Practice I described last June.

And our Adult Jewish Learning program, chaired by David Herbst, is also underway. I invite you to check out our offerings this month on page 6 of this bulletin. And I invite you to join me at 1:00 p.m. on Wednesday, October 12, which is Yom Kippur afternoon. Instead of going home, stick around for some Jewish learning on the topic of gratitude - something I hope to have an extra reason to express at the end of the post-season. We will spend an hour together and then have a little time before the afternoon service begins.

When it comes to Jewish learning, let’s play two!

L’shalom and G’mar Chatimah Tovah!


Monday, October 31, 2016

The Theology of the Cubs

The Neshama of Baseball, Part II
Irwin
I have known Irwin Keller since 4th or 5th grade. He was a year ahead of me in religious school at Congregation B'nai Jehoshua Beth Elohim (BJBE) in Glenview, IL. He was always the smartest kid I knew, but I never told him that until now. He was not a know-it-all. He was a great guy who took knowledge - especially Jewish knowledge seriously. While we were all trying to learn how to decipher the modern Hebrew dialogues in B'yad Halashon, Irwin was mastering the language. He led the service for his Bar Mitzvah completely in Hebrew - or at least that is how we all remembered it. He has become a lawyer, founded a drag a cappella quartet, the Kinsey Sicks, and for many years has been the spiritual leader Congregation Ner Shalom in Cotati, CA. He is studying with the Aleph Alliance and will be formally ordained a rabbi relatively soon. He also blogs at Itzik's Well. You should read it. I learn something every time he speaks or writes, and I am proud to call him a friend.

Like me, he is also a Chicago Cubs fan. We watched Game 4 of the series together Saturday night. I was in the bleachers and he was in a bar in West Hollywood (don't know why he was in LA, I didn't ask.) But with Facebook in front of us, we were watching together. He wrote the piece below last week and gave me permission to re-post it. Enjoy this second installment of the Neshama of Baseball. The original article is here.

A souvenir ball from Irwin's childhood

The Theology of the Cubs

by Irwin Keller

I grew up with a rabbi who regularly used baseball references in his sermons. I adored him (still do), and his outfield metaphors were usually just right. That said, he was a native South Sider, and a White Sox fan. Even as a kid I knew to look at his baseball enthusiasm with some skepticism. Sox fans were not like Cubs fans. My family – generations of North Side Jews – were the latter. Being a Cubs fan was as essential to who we were as being Ashkenazim, Chicagoans, Earthlings. We shared something special and formative with other Cubs fans. It was different from just being a baseball fan. Cubs fans had their own kind of faith, their own special theology.

I was raised into this religion from birth. My grandfather and his brothers-in-law were all formidable Cubs fans. Every summer Sunday of my childhood, like clockwork, like Shabbos, Grandpa Joe and Grandma Sade would pull up in their Oldsmobile and we would watch the ball game together. We'd turn on WGN at 1PM, in time to settle in with the announcers' pre-game chatter. My mother would pour her father a scotch on the rocks. I'd sprawl on the floor in front of the TV. And the game would start. My grandfather, like so many Chicago grandfathers, would yell at the umpires, would yell at Jack Brickhouse, would yell at Leo Durocher. Sometimes there were double-headers and all 6 of us would have to eat dinner in front of the TV so as not to miss any plays.

We were faithful fans, my family, although not fanatics. But fanatics did exist in my bloodline. My great grandmother's brother, Morris Levin, was a beloved figure at Wrigley Field. He earned a mention in the 1930 edition of Ripley's Believe It or Not for attending every game of the season and knowing every statistic in the National League, this while being completely blind. The players would say, "Hello, Mr. Levin" to him on their way onto the field, and he could tell from the sound of bat meeting ball exactly where a hit was headed.

Cubs games were daytime diversions in the days of my childhood; Wrigley Field had no lights. Too many extra innings and a game could be called on account of darkness. And who needed night games anyway? For Cubs fans, part of the joy was skipping school or work to go sit in the bleachers. And to a Cubs fan's eye, there was something vulgar about night games. Under electric flood lights, the White Sox looked like a Vegas stage show. Real baseball took place under the blue sky and bright sun.

I guess I'm saying these things to shore up my baseball cred, to try to convince you that I'm not just jumping on a Cubs bandwagon, although clearly here I am bouncing along on it. Baseball was, I think, something I sacrificed growing up and coming out. In perfecting my new, rebellious, gay identity, I embraced an outspoken and derisive ignorance of sports. And it was mostly true – I know nothing about basketball, football, hockey. I only care about soccer teams when they make beefcake calendars.

But baseball? Baseball I'm not ignorant about. I know the rules. I once knew the players. I know the pace and the feel and the culture. When I moved to California, that spirit chilled in me. I attended a few Giants games and a couple As games. And the company of my buddy Emily was wonderful. But I walked into Candlestick Park and it wasn't Wrigley Field. It was the wrong team in the wrong place. And rooting for a team that could actually win felt oddly meaningless.

Because being a Cubs fan has something to do with faith. Not faith in a specific outcome, but faith for its own sake. Faith as practice.

The Cubs last won a World Series when my Grandpa Joe was 5 years old. By the time I was watching ball with him 60 years later, the organizing principle of fandom could not have been any realistic expectation of winning. Instead faith was a posture, a relationship with the world, or at least the world of baseball. Rooting for a team that had a good chance was easy and it was beneath us. That kind of fandom was for people from other cities, where strength of character was not strictly required.

Whereas the theology of the Cubs fan had (and has) something to do with an embrace of the "is" rather than the "might be." It is belief without proof. Endurance without promise of reward. Patience just because.
If only we could live our lives this way! With such constancy. With exquisite endurance, faith that doesn't flag, joy even in the waiting. Holding the world – and each other – with love and loyalty, despite imperfection, despite unfinishedness. We don't need a perfected world; we don't need a perfect partner; perfect children, perfect self.  If we could just hang on to life, with all its ups and downs, with the fierce love with which Cubs fans hang on to baseball. What a world this would be!

And if every century or so there's a World Series title, no one would complain.

I sat last Saturday and watched the last National League playoff game, Cubs vs. Dodgers. Without a TV, without cable service, I had to connive my way onto the live stream. I sat, prodigal that I was, with my Israeli brother-in-law who had never seen a baseball game, and I elaborately explained it all. The rules. Why innings don't have a timer. How a normal game lasts as long as a movie but a memorable game with extra innings is like an opera. Why all the spitting (I had to make this one up) and crotch adjustments (ditto). What makes baseball fans better people. Pointing out how casual and respectful opponents were with each other. I felt all my love for the Cubs – not for these particular players, who were new to me and were all born long after my last visit to Wrigley Field, but my love for this religion that is the Cubs, that pours through and from me.

I relaxed in a deep way, a way that encompassed my entire life and not just that moment on the sofa. I forgot my work. I forgot the fatigue of the ongoing High Holy Days. I forgot the awful election. It was the 6th day of Sukkot, when we call in the biblical Joseph to be our guest in the Sukkah. Instead, it was my Grandpa Joe who was clearly at my side, his scotch in hand, in answer to my glass of local Sonoma wine.

And now tonight I settle in for the World Series. Sure, I'd like us to win. But it doesn't really matter. We want it but don't need it. We deserve it and so do the people of Cleveland who have been waiting a lifetime as well. We'll be fine either way. Because that's who Cubs fans are. That is our theology. We love, we believe, and we do so without proof or promise of reward.

Now play ball.

Joe and Sade arriving for Sunday baseball.

Sunday, October 18, 2015

The Jewish Educational Theory of Everything, Part II

This piece actually is from January and was written by my friend and colleague Wendy Grinberg. It was originally published on her blog Jewish Education Lab (not to be confused with JEDLAB on Facebook). I think she has a good handle on some very important aspects of ToE (Theory of Everything).

Here’s my latest article in eJewishPhilanthropy. Looking forward to your responses.


There is a lot of talk about changing the name, the times, the locations and the format of synagogue schools. But calling something experiential, changing the hours or even inviting the parents is not enough to make deep change in religious school. What is needed is a change in thinking.

Is school the right model for what we are trying to do in our synagogue education programs? Why do they exist? There is a lot for students to learn in order to be knowledgeable in Jewish practices, values and traditions. But children who can “get an A in Judaism” are not our ultimate goal. A person can become an expert in these areas without even being Jewish. Our goal is mastery of “applied Judaism,” demonstrated by students who are part of a Jewish community and can face the challenges of this life in a Jewish way. Let me give you an example of what this can look like within the bounds of a typical third grade Sunday morning religious school class structure. Here’s how the teacher described it:

In the synagogue kitchen, nineteen third graders gathered around the stainless steel island upon which was heaped bunches of leeks, onions, carrots, turnips, parsnips, and bundles of parsley and dill. On the stove behind them, four free-range chickens were simmering in big soup pots. Mamma Barbara, grandmother to one of the students and the guest of honor for the morning, stood at the head of the island, handing out peelers, instruction, and encouragement to eager hands. Within minutes, the floor was a mess of carrot tops and parsnip shavings that missed the compost bags. The smell of chopped onions brought tears to some sensitive eyes.

A sense of community, sometimes so hard to foster in a classroom setting, was everywhere one looked in this overheated kitchen. Kitchen tools were shared without a teacher’s guidance. One child held a hard–to-cut vegetable for another to chop, while, across the way, another student warned his new friend to “be careful of the splashing soup” as she put her cut up celery into the pot.

Cleanup over and soup gently simmering on the stove, the class climbed the stairs back up the classroom, where Mamma Barbara told them the story of the recipe, passed down from her own great-grandmother through the daughters of her family, from a Russian shtetl to the suburbs of New Jersey. The soup (“Jewish penicillin,” Mamma Barbara called it) would now be strained, frozen, and ultimately delivered to the ill in our community by the sixth graders of our synagogue as part of their bar or bat mitzvah projects.

More than a kitschy hands-on activity, this effort coordinated by Jessie Losch at The Barnert Temple Congregation B’nai Jeshurun of Franklin Lakes gets to the heart of what applied Judaism in a school setting looks like. A few key components:

  1. The school is not separate from the greater community. In our scenario, students function as a class community within the context of the synagogue community. Mamma Barbara brought her family recipe and became part of the effort. In addition, the students planted chicken soup herbs in the synagogue garden to harvest for their soup under the direction of a synagogue member who is also a master gardener. Another group of expert adults facilitated the students in creating a Matzah Ball Mensches logo which will adorn the labels of every package of soup. As a mitzvah project, a sixth grader will serve as the liaison to the caring committee, coordinating delivery. K-2nd graders will create cards to go with the soup.
  2. Judaism is not confined to a time of the week or a room of the synagogue.
    The boundaries that often segment children’s Jewish life (Sunday mornings at the synagogue) were permeated by people and activities around making the soup and delivering it. Community members and older students joined in. The sick people who will receive the soup are not necessarily third grade classmates. Deliveries will occur on different days and in other places, and cooking and planting took place outside of the classroom, albeit on synagogue property.
  3. Jewish values are put in action to solve real problems.
    Students learned about taking care of the earth, dietary laws, and preventing the suffering of animals and then discussed how to make the soup in an ethical way. They studied Rabbi Akiva’s teaching on the power of visiting the sick: “He who does not visit the sick is like a murderer!” A connection to Jewish history and heritage was made real through Mamma Barbara’s recipe and family story. Empathy and care for the sick went from theoretical to real as eight year-olds did what they could to help and provide comfort to those in need.
     
  4. There are widening circles of involvement.This project has grown since it was first initiated. The excitement of participating in real and meaningful Jewish acts that make a difference is contagious. Director of Lifelong Learning Sara Losch has invited other classes to be a part. Now the fifth grade class is involved in creating a book that will tell the story of this project to the recipient, including the mitzvot it teaches and the recipe for chicken soup. Students become teachers to community members and spread their learning.

Under the direction of Senior Rabbi Elyse Frishman, this synagogue has been in a constant cycle of experimentation, assessment and improvement. That being said, this experience of applied Judaism did not require a full restructure of the synagogue school. Jessie understands the world of her classroom as a part of a greater Jewish community. She incorporated the enduring understandings that were articulated for her class and asked herself: What would a student who integrated these ideas know/do/understand in the real world? Others were able to get involved and see how this project could connect to their efforts as well.

Applied Judaism is my term for a way of thinking about Jewish learning and its purposes. Judaism is not a subject matter to be mastered in our schools; it is a salve for the human condition. At the heart of Jewish education is a belief that being Jewish, living in a Jewish way, makes life more meaningful, more enjoyable, and more beautiful. With the right approach, children can experience this and enrich the whole community, even within the context of a conventional Sunday morning program.

Wednesday, October 14, 2015

Back to the Future...The (Jewish Educational) Theory of Everything Pt. I

As a lifelong fan of the Chicago Cubs, I am completely caught up in the post-season of Baseball. Something that has no relevance in this blog. Except of course as a frame for my teshuvah for going so long without posting on this blog. You see, in Back to the Future 2, Marty McFly travels 30 years into the future and among other things learns that the Cubs have just won the World Series. When the film was made in 1985 it was a cute joke. Now the Cubs are 8 wins away from making that a reality.

So let me change the past by changing the here and now. No excuses. We are all busy. But I want to get things going here again and I hop you will join me for the ride! Today is Rosh Chodesh Cheshvan. I am going to try for a post each day of the month. Friday will be a double portion to hold me over for Shabbat.

Kadima!


The (Jewish Educational)
Theory of Everything

A film about Stephen Hawking seems an unlikely idea for a blockbuster film. While the Theory of Everything made a decent amount of money it did even better at the Oscars. I can just imagine the pitch meeting with potential producers: “So this film is about a brilliant mathematician who is barely able to move. He uses a wheelchair to get around and a computer to speak. The key is that he believes he can come up with a mathematical equation that explains everything in the universe!”

It was actually a beautiful film about love and character and mathematics. And it got me to thinking about my work as a Jewish Educator. Yeah. I get that look a lot at home. I tend to ruin movies because I am always looking for the teachable moment to use in my high school class. This time the film became a tipping point for what I have been thinking about for the past year.

If you read the Jewish press and blogsphere (try eJewishPhilanthropy.com, tabletmag.com or mosaicmagazine.com) you would see a number of ideas about Jewish learning that have been trending for a while. Some of them we have talked about and adapted here at B’nai Israel: Experiential Learning; Israel Education; School as Camp; Independent Minyanim; the “death” of the synagogue; Using Skype and other Technologies; Project Based Learning and Understanding by Design are but a few. Each is the next new best thing – and any institution that doesn’t adapt it is bound to go the way of the dinosaurs.

I have been a student of Jewish education long enough to know that these trends are cyclical. Twenty years ago the debate was Day School vs. Synagogue School vs. Israel Trip vs. Summer Camp vs. Adult Learning vs. Early Childhood Education. It was presented in just that way – like some Jewish educational Ultimate Fighting cage match.

I have become convinced that we need to develop a Jewish Educational Theory of Everything – a simple and elegant way to describe how we incorporate all of the richness of Jewish life, language, text and history with all of the many and varied ways of teaching and learning. I believe it is not only possible but necessary. As a lifelong Cubs fan, I have seen managers and owners from Leo Durocher and P.K. Wrigley to the present day try to fix losing seasons by using quick fixes and dumping multiple players in the hope that someone – anyone – else can do the job. I think the whole world knows how that has worked since 1918.

So I am going to be part of the team that creates that theory. Our school is the laboratory – as it has been for the last twenty years. We are not going to try things willy nilly. We will do what we have done – study the new ideas for ways that add value to our teaching and learning. And we will create some of our own. As always at this time of year, we are looking for a few new teachers to help us get there. So come be part of our learning lab.

Anyone want to go to the pitch meeting with me? I am pretty sure we can make a movie about this!

Thursday, January 22, 2015

The Need for Rest-and-Digest Philanthropy:
Strengthen Jewish Education by Tending to Jewish Educators

Dr. Zachary Lasker
I have gotten to know Zachary Lasker, director of Melton & Davidson Education Projects at William Davidson Graduate School of Jewish Education of The Jewish Theological Seminary over the past few years. We met when he was presenting at the Network for Research in Jewish Education (NRJE) conference about the ReFrame program - which is teaching educators about experiential learning. He is a very smart guy and a dedicated Jewish educator. 

The following piece was in my inbox this morning courtesy of - you guessed it - eJewish Philanthropy. I thought it was worth sharing. Please discuss on the eJP site so we can participate in one conversation!

-Ira


The Need for
Rest-and-Digest Philanthropy:
Strengthen Jewish Education
by Tending to Jewish Educators

By Zachary Lasker, Ed.D

Most of us can identify with the automatic response triggered when a child falls into potentially dangerous or stressful circumstances – he goes missing at the supermarket, she chases a ball into the middle of a busy street, he wakes up from a night terror. Without any conscious decision, we drop what we are doing and a jolt of energy and clarity propel us to ward off danger. When the challenge is surmounted, we settle back into a more calm and relaxed state as our system recharges for the next crisis. We can generally tolerate incidents of stress presented when caring for a few people at a time, but what happens to the body and mind when it takes responsibility for 20, 100, 500, or 1,000 people and the frequency of stress inducing events increases exponentially?

Recently I had the good fortune to brainstorm with a group of philanthropic leaders committed to the vibrant future of our Jewish day schools. The discussion centered on national initiatives that can guide and support leading educators. We were joined for a portion of our time by sets of school heads and board chairs to discuss their work, and the room began to buzz with excitement as school heads shared their innovating efforts in the areas of instruction, recruitment, fundraising, and governance. There was no shortage of ideas, and it was inspiring to see the group grow animated as they described their dreams. While school leaders ease-fully identified ideas crying out for incubation, they also shared their struggle to find the time and space required to leap forward from idea to implementation.

When the philanthropists reconvened there were two important revelations:

1. Schools vary in their needs based on the nuances of their specific community

2. School leaders have great potential as ground level innovators, reflective of a rising trend in entrepreneurial leadership wherein individuals are their own best problem solvers

Education leaders who identify a challenge and then design a solution are more likely to hit home runs, driven by an invigorating amount of empowerment and enthusiasm. This approach leaves plenty of room for networking, sharing of best practices, and collaboration, but honors the fact that the Jewish community – like the world over-– has outgrown a one size fits all, top-down way of working.

How can philanthropy move the needle of day school education on a national level in a way that empowers the local leader? Our group started to peel the onion:
  • Could school heads identify the challenges they faced? Certainly.
  • Did they have ideas for solutions and an interest in taking a lead as problem solvers? Absolutely.
  • Did they have the time, space, and support to design, pilot, and assess these ideas? NO!

Jewish educators on the front line spend more time extinguishing fires than igniting them. When a program or school term is up and running we have a responsibility to ensure the physical, emotional, and social safety of our constituents, along with the administrative and financial security of our institutions. Children and parents are vocal with their needs, faculty/staff deserve attention, we are responsible to our lay leaders, and accidents happen despite the best-laid plans. Leading an institution forward under these circumstances is tough.

Fight-or-Flight Work

My tenure as a Jewish camp director was phenomenally fulfilling, but also taxing. Working in a vibrant Jewish community exposed me to spiritually moving experiences of prayer and song, awesome encounters with nature, ridiculously fun recreational activities, and an incredible group of people who became family. The work of a camp director – like my administrative colleagues in day and congregational schools, youth groups, and community centers – is also marked by days of great challenge. One single day could include the following curveballs:
  • § Prank pulled by the oldest campers in the middle of the night sets a negative example and raises safety concerns
  • Phone calls from parents concerned that photos posted on the website featuring their kids with a neutral facial expression is an early indicator of flu, homesickness, or bullying
  • Call from the infirmary: a handful of campers tested positive for lice
  • Head wilderness guide needs extended time off to be with an ill grandparent
  • Surprise inspection by a health inspector

Each of these incidents triggers an automatic physiological response, similar to when a child is missing or chases a ball into the street. What to do? Take flight to some unidentified tropical setting OR take a deep breath and face each incident head on. Opting for “fight” over “flight,” my body shifted into autopilot mode marked by a rush of adrenaline as I did whatever was needed to overcome the obstacles. Physical and mental energy went to the issue at hand, over other needs such as rest, food, and hygiene. Most Jewish educators prefer to spend time observing programs, mentoring faculty/staff, teaching, and cataloging inspiring moments, but when a program is in session we have no choice but to face the curveballs when thrown. Many of my summers were spent in “reactive mode,” responding to the daily needs of the learners, staff, and parents under my care.

The Jewish Educator’s Nervous System

There is a scientific explanation for when a Jewish educator shifts into this “fight-or-flight” mode. Our autonomic nervous system regulates many of the primary functions of the body – heart rate, digestion, respiratory rate, and urination. When the body perceives a harmful, threatening, or otherwise stressful event there is a discharge of the sympathetic nervous system, which primes animals for the mode of “fight-or-flight.” A physiological reaction follows wherein the body produces a specific hormone that increases blood pressure and sugar, and suppresses the immune system.
  • Heart and lung action accelerate
  • Stomach/intestinal action slows or stops digestion
  • Metabolic energy sources are released for muscular action
  • Bladder actions relax
  • Tunnel vision (loss of peripheral vision)

The body is now physically prepared to instinctively face the challenge head on. Physiological responses by the sympathetic nervous system when in flight-or-flight mode are accompanied by emotional, cognitive, and social responses. Individuals naturally prone to higher levels of emotional reactivity may experience an increase in anxiety or aggression. Cognition is generally more inclined to recognize the negative over the positive. We are more likely to perceive ambiguous situations as negative, and recall negative words. This inclination may extend into social situations, manifesting in behaviors that are aggressive or hostile.

The sympathetic nervous system is our best resource as a temporary, adaptive reaction to stress. Prolonged endurance of stress pushes the sympathetic nervous system into “overdrive,” and puts us at risk for a number of consequences ranging from headaches and problems sleeping, to lack of motivation and social withdrawal.

The body functions most effectively in fight-or-flight mode when given time off to generate and conserve energy. This occurs when the parasympathetic nervous system is activated and the body nestles into a state of “rest-and-digest.” Heart rate and force decrease, intestinal and glandular activity increase, and the body relaxes its sexual and urinary functions[1]. The body is more protected from the risks associated with the fight-or-flight state.

As a Jewish camp director the summer was rarely the time and space for my own creative and strategic thinking, for learning and growing, and for attending to my own needs. Rather, I needed to create space to fulfill these needs during the year. I was lucky. As a Ramah director, I was part of a network of camp leadership who offered each other professional and emotional support, and who met regularly during the off-season to exchange ideas and to set strategic goals for the Ramah movement. I was also fortunate to benefit from professional learning opportunities through the Foundation for Jewish Camp and American Camp Association, and through doctoral studies with the full support of my lay leadership.

Rest & Digest Philanthropy

Philanthropists committed to the vibrant future of the Jewish people have a responsibility to ensure that our education leadership can rest-and-digest in order to face the inevitably long stretches of fight-or-flight that accompany responsibility for the physical, spiritual, emotional, and social well being of their learners. Lay leaders encourage rest-and-digest when they ensure their professionals take personal time off to maintain a healthy work-life balance. Two other priorities will secure the space educators need to rest-and-digest:

1. Claim opportunities for personal Jewish experiences

Jewish education is an emotional endeavor, and professionals are at their best when they can draw on their own encounters with Judaism. Those that champion Jewish educators have a responsibility to ensure that they experience prayer, text, Israel, Shabbat and other holidays, and a wide array of Jewish cultural expressions. There are great benefits to enabling Jewish educators with explicit opportunities for Jewish living and learning:
  • They are likely to maintain their own passion to promote Jewish living and learning for others
  • These experiences trigger concrete ideas for their work with learners
  • Educators serve as role models for their learners in the instances where the learner sees the educator immersed in their own Jewish journey

2. Secure time and space to pursue new ideas with colleagues and mentors

As stated earlier, most Jewish educators can identify areas in need of improvement, and many even have innovative solutions. Few can find the time and support needed at their workplaces to design, implement, and assess these ideas. The need for sacred spaces and relationships to enable this process is critical.

Fortunately, there is a range of rest-and-digest opportunities currently available for learning, networking, mentoring, and assessment provided by a collection of institutions and agencies committed to emerging and seasoned Jewish educators. The Davidson School of the Jewish Theological Seminary offers an array of experiences for institution and instructional leaders in schools, early childhood centers, and community centers. Many camp networks, such as the National Ramah Commission and the Foundation for Jewish Camp, are at the forefront of these efforts by providing opportunities for summer and year round staff to pursue their own Jewish learning and training. Mechon Hadar provides programs for Jewish educators to encounter Judaism through text and music in an egalitarian, beit midrash setting.

However, strategic action is required to grow, protect and leverage these opportunities. Our field needs more visionary philanthropists who will partner with national providers to ensure they remain accessible to local communities and professionals. On a local level, philanthropists and lay leaders can partner with their professionals to identify the interventions that will most behoove the professionals and carve out pockets of time for rest-and-digest within the constantly busy rhythm of the year. “If not now – when?”


[1] http://www.medicinenet.com/script/main/art.asp?articlekey=4770

Dr. Zachary Lasker is director of Melton & Davidson Education Projects at William Davidson Graduate School of Jewish Education of The Jewish Theological Seminary. Previously he served as camp director for Camp Ramah in California, and a teacher in day and congregational schools.

Wednesday, December 3, 2014

One Educator’s Response…
... on the Findings of the Pew Report and the Jewish Future

Several years ago, Joel Grishaver told me that he had been told that Nancy Parkes is the best Jewish educator in the country. I had to meet her. So I asked her to lunch. And she asked me to teach her teachers. And then we were in the Leadership Institute together. And traveled to Israel and learned together. I am not sure if she is the best - I have not actually studied her school, and I am not sure I am qualified to determine or declare who is the best. 

I will say that she is one of the smartest and most creative colleagues I have ever had the pleasure to learn and talk with, and we do not get together nearly enough. Like many of you I have been reading and attending meetings and thinking about the Pew report and the responses. Nancy went a step further today. She spoke up - from the perspective of a synagogue based supplementary school educator - and proposed a way forward.

After thirty seconds of "that's what I was thinking" and "I should have said that" nonsense, I decided to re-post her ideas that ran today on eJewishPhilanthropy (what? you don't get Dan Brown's daily email? Shame on you!) and hopefully expand the audience and the conversation. I suggest comments should be on eJP (Leave a Comment) or Jedlab (https://www.facebook.com/groups/jdsmedialab/ - look for a posting by Saul Kaiserman around 9:30 am EST on December 3. What you are not in JEDLAB? For shame! Fix that too!).

I agree with everything Nancy says and wish I said it first. More students come through our supplementary schools than any other part of the Jewish education eco-system. We must get it right. And when get students to couple their enrollment in our schools with Jewish camps, Israel programs and youth groups (to name just a few opportunities) we can really change the future. Read on!

Ira

One Educator’s Response….. on the Findings of the Pew Report and the Jewish Future

By Nancy Parkes
I have read the reports and the responses. I have attended meetings and have discussed the findings of the Pew report with many of my colleagues and with experts in the field, all whom I would define as people who care deeply about the future of Jewish life in America.

And, like many others, I am concerned about the Jewish future. But not in the way you may think.

It is clear from the findings of the Pew Report that we still have work to do in making Jewish learning and life meaningful, engaging, and relevant for American Jews. I don’t believe that anyone would deny that. My issue with the articles and proposal presented by Steven Cohen and Jack Wertheimer is that there is absolutely no mention of the value and importance of supplementary synagogue education.

It is interesting that despite the Pew Report demonstrating that supplementary education in the high school years is indeed effective, the proposal makes no mention of supporting these programs. It does, however, mention day schools, Jewish camps, youth groups and trips to Israel.
I don’t know of one Jewish educator, lay leader, or Rabbi that would dispute that day schools and informal educational experiences are powerful influences in the lives of our young people. I certainly believe that they are. One of the reasons why these experiences are so effective is that they do not occur in isolation. As noted by Cohen and Wertheimer, “These programs work synergistically with each other and also with formal schooling during the critical high-school years.”

As a Jewish educator and director in a supplementary synagogue school, I would never claim that supplementary education alone guarantees or leads to Jewish engagement as adults. Why then is this the way so many evaluate our programs?

Educators and directors in the synagogue setting have done much soul searching during the past decade. We were told that our system was “broken”; that children and parents were not finding the joy in Jewish learning in our settings; and even more importantly, we were told that the learning that was taking place was not leading to Jewish living.

We took all of this to heart- because we were concerned and because we care deeply about the future of Judaism.

How did many of us respond? We made changes - significant changes – in the structure and design of our schools. We advocated for Jewish camp and even brought the camp experience into our schools. We made youth groups an integral part of our educational programming blending the formal setting with this valuable informal Jewish experience. Many programs now take teens on trips to Israel, and more and more programs take learning out of the traditional classroom setting. Perhaps one of the most significant changes that has been made is the education and involvement of parents. We involve them because we know that if Judaism is not relevant and meaningful for them, they as the decision makers, will not only remove themselves from Jewish life, but their children, as well.

With more than 60% of our families enrolling their children in supplementary educational programs, we know that much is at stake in the kind of educational experiences we create for our learners. So, what kind of message are they receiving by the silence – and worse, the negativity – leaders in research and education send them by not supporting their decision with funding? That they are not worth the investment? That they have made the “wrong” decision? That they care less about their child’s Jewish education?

I keep a running list of the negative comments I hear from lay leaders, clergy, and professionals in the Jewish world about supplementary education. Unfortunately, the list is long and continues to grow. Is it any wonder that less and less young people are going into the field of Jewish education, and why synagogue schools have difficultly finding educators and leaders for their schools? This kind of rhetoric perpetuates a self-filling cycle.

Supplementary schools matter – and they do make a positive difference in the lives of our families. Can they be better? Absolutely. But, they need support to do so.
Here is my proposal:
  • Stop the negative narrative. Leaders and clergy need to become vocal advocates for supplementary education, whether it is from the pulpit, in writing, or at conferences.
  • Be our partners. We need more leaders and clergy to truly be our partners in creating the educational excellence that we all want. If your synagogue school is not a place that you would send your own child, how can you work with your educational team to make it so?
  • Encourage people to consider Jewish education as a career. We need more Jewish educators – in all settings. We need to do a better job at reaching out to those who we believe could make a difference in the Jewish world of informal and formal Jewish education. We also need more scholarships dollars to help those who wish to become Jewish educators to realistically be able do so.
  • Provide mentorship and consulting for supplementary education directors. Change is hard, and it’s even harder when you are doing it on your own.
  • Collaboration. Jewish camps and youth groups “work.” So does supplementary education when it is combined with these informal experiences. More conferences should be held which bring leaders in these fields together to think about how they can truly collaborate to bring powerful experiential education to the supplementary school setting, while also encouraging our children and teens to attend camp and become active members in youth groups.
I am not an alarmist, but I do believe that supplementary schools matter and that the lack of support that they receive and the negative narrative that is perpetuated is indeed, in the words of Cohen and Wertheimer, “a condition that is dire enough to warrant the serious attention of anyone concerned about the Jewish future.”

Nancy Parkes is the Director of Congregational Learning at Temple Israel Center in White Plains, an egalitarian synagogue in White Plains, NY.

Thursday, November 6, 2014

Hacking Hanukkah to Design the Jewish Future



This return to the blog has turned into a sharing of other people's wisdom rather than my own. That is probably the best assurance that it is actually wisdom! Today is no exception. Charlie Schwartz first came to my attention when he and Russel Neiss developed Media Midrash and later Pocket Torah. Now he is at Brandeis. I love the Design Lab approach they are using there.

I have been reading and touting Fast Company Magazine since it was first published. Fast Company has made design - as a concept and discipline - a hallmark of the way a "fast company" works. It is the only periodical I read cover to cover and I almost always find something that is applicable to my work as a Jewish educator. Check out what Charlie has done now.

And as for the invention, remember kids, don't try this at home!

Ira

This was originally posted in eJewishPhilanthropy.


By Rabbi Charlie Schwartz

The epiphany came half way through the session. My design team, a rag-tag group of Jewish high school students, had already identified the centrality of food in creating powerful experiences with family and friends. Then, during a frenzied brainstorm, a jaunty ninth grader shouted, “Wait – there are no good Hanukkah drinks!”

Thus, after several iterations, the Flaming Hanukkah Milkshake was born: sixteen ounces of milk-chocolate deliciousness with a ribbon of strawberry jelly running throughout, served in a double-paned glass with ignited olive oil floating between the layers, and a nine pronged sparkler put in for good measure.

This design experience was part of a series of Hanukkah Hackathons run by the Brandeis Design Lab – a joint project of The Union for Reform Judaism, Combined Jewish Philanthropies and Brandeis|HSP. These sessions instruct teens in the methodology of Design Thinking and provide them with the tools to innovate Jewish life and practice. At first glance, the idea of a Hanukkah Hackathon seems kitschy, a mash-up of old words with new jargon. But the idea of hacking Hanukkah – that is, repurposing and/or refining it in ways not previously imagined – has ancient origins.

After all, Hanukkah is rooted in celebrating the Maccabees’ fight for military and cultural supremacy. The rabbis of the Talmud “hacked” this original purpose, transforming the holiday into a celebration of God’s power, symbolized by the miracle of the oil.

Fast forward to modern times, and Hanukkah is “hacked” again, this time as a tool for integration, providing Jews with a light-focused holiday around the time of the winter solstice on par with Christmas (with presents to match of course). The idea of “hacking Hanukkah” has been part of the Jewish world for a very long time.

This is the goal of the Hackathons: to teach Jewish teens a new approach to listening to each other, to themselves, and to Jewish tradition, and to engage these teens in the age-old process of building, transforming, and hacking Jewish life.

Arielle W., a Hanukkah Hacker who developed a way to share and celebrate everyday miracles, summed up the power of Design Thinking: “Our design team came to the conclusion that we need a way to focus on our journeys and recognize the miracles around us while tuning out the negativity and the haters. This statement didn’t come out of the blue; it came from interviewing members of our team, discovering the memories Hanukkah brought to us, and delving deeper into the meaning of Judaism. It was an intricate process designed to find the root of what we’re really looking for.”

This Spring, the Brandeis Design Lab will use the powerful approach of Design Thinking to give teens the skills to build solutions for real challenges facing the Jewish community. If you are in the Boston area and are interested in taking part in an upcoming Hackathon, or if you would like to learn more about the fellowship or how Design Thinking can change the Jewish world, please be in touch.

In the meantime, I’ll be sipping my flaming milkshake, keeping warm through the soft light of the oil and the knowledge that the Jewish future is in good creative hands.

**Brandeis|HSP cannot be held responsible for injuries or property damage sustained while attempting the Flaming Hanukkah Milkshake.**

Rabbi Charlie Schwartz is the senior Jewish educator and Director of the BIMA and Genesis summer programs at Brandeis|HSP. Charlie can be reached at cschwartz@brandeis.edu. For more information about the Brandeis Design Lab visit: brandeis.edu/highschool/designlab

Monday, November 11, 2013

(Not) The Last Pew Reply - Guest Posting

Joel Lurie Grishaver is my teacher, mentor and friend. He is also a titan in Modern Jewish Education, and he freed us from the tyranny of the Stickmen and that holidays could be happy without a semi-fictional character celebrating them for us. He published this today on the Torah Aura Bulletin Board - to which you should be a subscriber. While I think there is a bit more to be learned from the Pew report, I think Joel makes some very important and interesting points - particularly, #2, 4 and 5. What do you think?


The Last Pew Reply  by Joel Lurie Grishaver

MY FATHER (z”l) once designed what he considered to be the ultimate North American synagogue. It had all the usual stuff and only one pew in the back. This was exactly where most people wanted to sit. When it was full, the weight triggered a spring, that tripped a switch, which started a motor, which brought the pew to the front of the hall, exactly where the Rabbi wanted it. Then a new pew popped up in the back.

 

The Pew Study

Every ten years (more or less on the decade) the Jewish Federations of North America would run a National Jewish Population Study. After a disastrous experience with the 2010-2011 study, the Jewish Federations of North America said that they would never do another such study. This year, because of that void, the PEW Foundation did a national Jewish study of their own.

Virtually every Jew in North America with a keyboard and a place to be read has already written about the PEW study and its finding. I feel like this is the last PEW. If you want to read a good summary of the reported findings read Samuel Heilman. The most important critical article, one that PEW responded to, was written by J.J. Goldberg. You can google the back and forth. I believe that the most important piece was written by Dr. Ari Kelman.

Kelman argues that the most amazing finding of the PEW study and the previous NJPS finding is that while we have developed a very refined language about Jewish religious behavior, we have developed no categories to look at Jewish identity that is cultural and secular. The PEW study found that 70% of present North American Jews fall into this slot. I am basing my piece on Ari’s article.

 

The Pew Study and Jewish Education 

The majority of North American Jews who presently receive a Jewish education do so in a Congregational School, a.k.a. a Complementary School, a.k.a. a Secondary School, a.k.a. An Afternoon School, a.k.a. The Drop-Off School, a.k.a. the Religious/Religion School, and a.k.a. the Hebrew School. The very insecurity in naming this portion of Jewish education reflects our discomfort with it, hence, our need to constantly re-label it. The most derogatory of these names, The Drop-Off School indicates that all students get to Day Schools and Community schools without parental involvement.

Most Hebrew schools are run under synagogue auspices. Most Day Schools also have religious orientation. Secular orientations/cultural orientations could be found only in the old Talmud Torah system and may be reflected in their namesakes—and in a few/but not all communal day schools.
Most Jewish education is centered in the families we serve—who are synagogue members, rather than reaching towards those we do not—cultural and secular Jews.

We labor under the assumption that Bar/Bat Mitzvah is the golden key to the City of Jewish Life. We shorten and cut everything else and tend to leave prayerbook Hebrew intact. That assumption is good if we want to raise future synagogues Jews and maybe just that which, synagogues want to underwrite. But, if we are going to meet the desires of most Jews—it is just the wrong pattern.

The following is my retelling of a story that Roberta Louis Goodman tells (and we published from the North Shore Congregation Israel Bulletin). Roberta and I disagree over its meaning, but I have included her complete telling in the TAPBB and here use mine for my purposes.

 One day at CAMP@NSCI, her Religious school, a 3rd grader named Leo started playing some piano. Robert compliments his play. He says, “I play guitar, too.” His mother says, “I want him to learn to play some Jewish songs.” Roberta responds without hesitation, “I can make that happen.” She finds a skilled senior from the cantor’s choir to teach guitar (during Hebrew school). By the time the class happens the next week, by telling the story, the cantor telling the story, and the sending of an e-mail, she has ten students and a few more teachers. Now she is preparing to teach Jewish music to more instruments and adding a visual arts option.

When I tell the story I emphasize “Jewish music” and guitar—a secular/cultural option. When Roberta tells the story she labels the program “Prayer Jam” and sees it as another path to liturgy.

 

Pew and Looking Towards the Future of Jewish Education 

So what would it mean to focus on Jewish educational outreach on cultural rather than religious Jewish Identity? Here are a few thoughts:

  1. Decouple synagogue membership from school registration and do not remove community or synagogue support. Think about the old secular Kibbutz Bar/t Mitzvah where a child was dropped in the Negev with a knife and told to find his/her way home. Link Religious and Secular silos.
  2. Add communicative Hebrew to the prayer centric Hebrew we tend to be teaching. I have heard it argued that we no longer have enough time to teach prayer-Hebrew. Two thoughts: (1) what is the problem with compounding failure if we are already bound to fail and can meet some needs in the process, and (2) perhaps with less God we can get some more time. We may be misunderstanding the calls for less as being time centric when in fact they may be religiophobic. Think Canada, think the old LA Hebrew High model, school credit for foreign language studies. Think of Hebrew School with a Hebrew Charter School option. Add a bit of communicative Hebrew to the prayer-Hebrew exclusive and our teachers, our students, and many of our families will be happier.
     
  3. Piaget teaches that students can’t understand the causality (or sequence) of history before seventh or eighth grade. That took history out of a lot of schools that used to have a 4th, 5th, 6th grade progression. Forget about cause and effect and eliminate any hope of sequence and put history back as a sequence of stories—narrative.
     
  4. The arts.
     
  5. Teach an apolitical Israel for a while. Think Humus not Hamas. Real Politick can come later. Israel is a foodies’ dream. It is music, art, cartography, major products, sports, democracy, dance, fiction, poetry, and a lot of great learning that doesn’t deal with chosen, settlements, and God. It is true that we can study Israel via siddur references, but we don’t need to. Desalinization and creative water technologies don’t have to link with terrorism or the territories. Israeli current events can be taught later. A-Zionist need not be Non-Zionist.
     
  6. It is hip to talk about Jewish Journeys. As schools we believe in many paths. It is time to consider a number of them that meet the needs of the majorities of North American Jews. A perfectly significant Jews life does not take prayer, kashrut and leaps-of-faith. Workman’s Circle was never Ethical Culture. 
I can recommend lots of Jewish options and still be in my synagogue every Saturday morning. I agree that recovery may take a higher power, but Jewish identity does not—unless we insist upon it. All we got to do is look certain results. Steven A. Cohen, Arnie Eisen, and Ari Kelman have been foreshadowing these insights for a long time. I may be in the last PEW, but we get to decide where we will let it wind up.

Thursday, October 31, 2013

They Will Take us to the Next Level Ch. 3:
A Challenge to Change

And here we are with our third installment of reflections from HUC-JIR NYSOE students.
Yes Virginia, there is hope for Jewish Education!


- Ira



A Challenge to Change

By Arielle Branitsky

In reviewing blog posts from the calendar year thus far, it is clear to me that those who think about Jewish education are thinking about change. There have been discussions about informal versus formal education, religious school versus camp, and new models of Jewish education involving more individualized approaches to achieving goals. There is discussion of multiple intelligences, and the need to offer something compelling.

To me, all of this can be summarized as "what we are doing is not working" and "we need to regroup." Neither of these ideas is new or surprising, but they continue to reinforce the mindset that the system, as it currently exists, is not achieving its goals. Our challenge as a community of educators is to begin transitioning from "needing to regroup" to actually regrouping. Whether we apply ideas discussed previously or think of entirely new ones, we need to experiment with change.

Change is scary. It's difficult. In order for change to occur in these environments, not only do we need to change, but we need to convince others to change as well. We need to inspire our colleagues, the families we serve, and the leaders we partner with to join us in creating this change. Even if all of these individuals agree that change is necessary, inspiring them to join us in creating that change will be an uphill battle. There will be resistance. But despite this, as leaders, it is our job to manage this change and the resistance it might engender.

Jewish education takes place in many different environments. While the Day School model can offer the broadest and most in-depth offering of topical content, other models must spend more time deciding what to teach. I do not think this has to be the case. All Jewish education can and should include opportunities to learn Hebrew, Torah, customs and rituals, Jewish history, and ethics. In the schools that already do this, the question becomes: is it working? Are student actually learning the material or are they merely skimming the surface of it as a means to an end?

There are many educators who are implementing new models of Jewish education in their educational settings. There are religious schools trying Shabbat models and offering alternative options to students, including monthly trips to camp. There are schools shifting their curriculum to an experiential format, and programs are being created to allow the learner to design their own course of learning. However, there are also many who are being held back from trying out new ideas by fear. Fear of the many hours, months, or even years that it might take to change the culture of their institution. Fear of the nay-sayers in their communities and fear that what they achieve will not be any better than what currently exists.

I understand that often big ideas exist in a world of "easier said than done," but as we move through 5774, I offer this challenge to my colleagues: stomp out these fears. If you believe that what you are currently doing is not working, create something new and implement it. Test out your new and improved ideas for Jewish education. The more we test, the more support we can offer for the change we want to see. The sooner we learn what works in our changed models, the sooner we can improve them and get closer to a system that works.

My hope for this year is to learn about the new and innovative things that educators are doing. I hope that when I use the word "unique," I use it confidently, assured that a program truly is one of a kind. I want to know that the field of talented people I am joining is not just one where people talk about their challenges but rather, one where people work towards change and challenge me to join them in making Jewish Education work. 





Arielle Branitsky is in her final year of the Joint Masters in Jewish Education and Nonprofit Management at HUC-JIR's New York campus. Arielle grew up in Toronto, Ontario, where she attended Jewish Day School, and graduated from York University with a Bachelor of Arts in Religious Studies and Communications Studies. Prior to her studies at HUC-JIR, she worked for Hillel at the University at Albany, and was the Ontario Region Director for USD/Hagshama. Arielle is also a fellow in the MA Concentration through the iCenter, and is thinking a lot about Jewish camp and leadership development.
 

Wednesday, October 23, 2013

They Will Take us to the Next Level
Ch. 1: Getting to Know Our Students - Really.

I received an interesting e-mail this morning from my friend, colleague and teacher, Evie Rotstein. Evie is the Director of the New York School of Education at the Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religious in New York. She wanted to invite her students to participate in a national conversation around Jewish education. So she asked a few of the professors to assign reflection papers and asked me to post a few of them here. I will try to post a few each week and we will also post the link to JEDLAB on Facebook and to #jedlab and #jed21 on Twitter. PLEASE COMMENT!! These are some of the people who will be figuring out what's next and what;s vital about Jewish living and Learning in the coming decades. Please join in their education, and more importantly let them see how they are adding to ours.

Remember, from our students we learn most of all!

Our first posting is from Sarah Marion.

Ira


Getting to Know Our Students - Really.

By Sarah Marion

Last week, I prepared and delivered a presentation for my Human Development class on systems theory and its role in educational contexts. I wanted to engage the class in a concrete discussion regarding the various systems our learners belong to, and the ways these systems might manifest in the classroom environment. 

I decided to facilitate an activity in which my classmates would receive a series of learner “profiles” and using the profiles, be asked to consider (a) which system(s) their learners belonged to, (b) how such systems might manifest in the religious school environment, and (c) the ways in which we might respond or react to such manifestations. For example, if student x’s family system includes a live-in grandparent, student x might connect especially well to lessons and values on honoring/caring for the elderly, and thus, a teacher might ask student x to deliver a presentation on that same topic.

In preparing for this presentation, my initial intention was to re-construct “real life” profiles of students I have encountered over the years as a religious school teacher in order to make the activity as realistic and relevant as possible. I wanted my profiles to be comprehensive, and thus include information such as family origin, current family characteristics and dynamics, student and family interests and activities, and more. 


But as I thought of different students from various religious school classes I have taught, I realized how little I actually knew about my learners. I couldn’t fill in all of this information, because I had never learned it. I had known who my students were inside the classroom, but I realized I had little or no idea who they were outside the classroom. Accordingly, I ended up constructing “fictional” profiles for my presentation. For example:
Ryan, who is in 8th grade, was adopted from Russia when he was three. He lives with his two moms, and his younger sister, Lucy, who was adopted from South Korea. Recently, Lucy was diagnosed with attention deficit disorder. Ryan enjoys swimming, and competes on the swim team at the JCC. Ryan’s mom, Kathy, runs a small after school day-care program in their house, and Ryan sometimes helps out with his mom’s business. Ryan’s other mom, Nancy, was raised Protestant and is involved in both her synagogue and church communities.
While writing these fictional profiles accomplished my goals for the presentation, I began contemplating the larger issue of how and why I didn’t fully know the systemic attributes of my students. I wondered if my experience was unique – and realized it probably wasn’t. I wondered - do part-time religious school teachers truly have the time and resources to get to know their students in the fullest sense? What is missed – and what are the consequences - when teachers are not aware of the various systems their learners belong to? 

Perhaps we miss opportunities to better engage and integrate our students into the learning process, perhaps we miss opportunities to connect the material to our students’ lives, perhaps we miss opportunities to inspire students to take ownership of their own learning, perhaps we make incorrect assumptions and hypotheses about who our students are. (For example, the teacher who is aware of student x’s family system will not miss the opportunity to integrate and connect this student’s experience of living with an aging grandparent into a class lesson on honoring the elderly). Therefore, the critical question becomes: how can we, as Jewish leaders and professional educators, inspire and assist our teachers in becoming fully aware of all the systems that impact our learners when they enter our classrooms?

As community-based and value-driven structures and institutions, synagogues are perhaps better equipped for and have more investment in promoting a holistic understanding of learners, in comparison to secular schools. I have been pondering some concrete, realistic ways in which synagogues and Jewish leaders can help religious school teachers become aware of the various systems their students belong to, in order to better understand their learners’ diverse needs and identities.

One idea I have stems from an Education Team meeting I attended a few years ago while working as a full-time youth educator at Temple Beth Elohim in Wellesley, MA. At this meeting, the team discussed the idea of a synagogue-based “Jewish Journey Project” in order to better “track” our students and connect them to the synagogue in meaningful ways. 


I’m not sure if this project ever fully came to fruition (as I left for rabbinical school when the project was in its first stages) but I remember the basic premise. Each student who entered the religious school would receive a Jewish journey advisor who would interview the student and his or her family in order to gather as much information about the student as possible. Interview questions would include family history, demographics, student interests and aspirations, past and current student and family involvement in temple life, etc. This information would then be entered into a database accessible to clergy, synagogue professionals, and other advisors. 

Student profiles would be updated regularly as students matured and became more or less involved in synagogue or other activities, as family dynamics shifted and changed, etc. Ideally, students would meet with their advisor every year to ensure that database information is current and up to date. Finally, and perhaps most importantly, synagogue professionals (i.e. clergy, education director) would share pertinent and relevant database information with religious school teachers.

Of course, this model is quite aspirational and might have some problems in terms of confidentiality. But it prompts us to consider how synagogues can best embody “whole person” learning communities, in which students and teachers are compelled to consider, integrate, connect, and explore the various facets of life that affect learning.






Sarah Marion is a rabbinic/education student at HUC-JIR's New York campus. She grew up in Westchester, NY and graduated from Brandeis University with bachelor's degrees in Near Eastern and Judaic Studies and Women's and Gender Studies. Prior to entering rabbinical school Sarah worked as a  youth educator in Boston, and has spent several summers at the URJ's Eisner and Crane Lake Camps, as a counselor and unit head. She is currently interning at Larchmont Temple in Larchmont, NY.    


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