Wednesday, March 23, 2005

Standing Beneath the Mountain:

Transmitting Torah to the Next Generation

Prologue:

In every large group or organization, the individuals involved never quite actualize the professed ideals. Visitors to an urban courtroom, for example, are shocked to discover that often neither judges, attorneys, nor even the police seem to have an operative interest in truth being served. Though lives may be hanging in the balance, professional bureaucrats robotically fulfill their tasks, cooperating with each other to expedite matters quickly and efficiently--far from exemplifying fairness on display. And in many similar settings, the individuals involved may have personal motives and agendas that conflict with their professed ideology. Though they may identify with certain groups or values, they do not necessarily observe these beliefs as strict guidelines for life.

In our own communities, though a majority of our youth do conform to observable standards and remain loyal to Orthodox practice, when this behavior merely follows accepted norms, an ostensibly halakhic and religious life becomes an insincere, pro-forma ritual, that is at times inconsistent, and often devoid of holiness and purpose. In recent years, varied community leaders, aware of a spiritual malaise, have suggested specific improvements – let us strengthen Modern Orthodox ideology: design a curriculum; teach our youth the tenets of our beliefs; and they are bound to live up to our expectations.

But this assumption - that student loyalties would be guaranteed if they would merely adopt our beliefs - is incorrect: individual decisions are rarely guided by ideology. Further, even were we to win our youth over intellectually and convince them of the validity of our hashkafot, if we are oblivious to the real lives of our students and unaware of the tests and tribulations they face on a daily basis, we are bound to provide inadequate instructions. Rather, to reach our students and have an impact, we must first be able to influence their decision-making process.

True individual dilemmas are not decided by gauging utilitarian benefit, nor are they resolved by social and ideological loyalties, though these factors may provide a measure of motivation. Individuals are conflicted by the competing urges that our tradition calls the lifelong struggle between the yetzer ha-tov and the yetzer ha-ra, and a person’s true inner self is actualized only through bechirah – by recognizing the nature of temptation, separating this from his own deep-rooted will, and learning to confront the forces within. These conflicts are internal – within a person’s heart.

What bothers young people most is not ignorance of the answers to Hashkafa questions, or understanding the rules which govern their behavior, though these are certainly important. Rather, their lives are defined by the need to choose between attractive alternatives, and the personal sacrifice this often entails. As a young person furthers his connection to G-d, he becomes sensitive to these ongoing choices, but it is only to the extent that his Torah is real – acquired in his heart - that he can truly be faithful to its perspective.

How can we assure that our youth acquire Torah in their heart? What is truly vital is that we guide our students to appreciate the uniqueness of Torah; and that they recognize how it differs from any other subject like physics, biology, history or mathematics. Torah is not a section of the curriculum, or a specialized course of study. In brief, Torah is not mere information, and certainly not ideology. Torah speaks to the heart.

Torah is not part of the physical world, though it provides us with rules that command demonstrably different behavior from the rest of the world. Somehow, our teens must realize that Torah is life itself, unlimited, immutable and eternal. It is not merely a part of existence, it is existence, and it defines reality on its own terms. It is only through toil and diligence that a young man or woman can catch a glimpse of this unique perspective and acquire his or her own portion of Torah. Hence, Torah cannot be taught with the same methodology used to impart other value systems. For not only are our rules and regulations different, but the very nature of Torah thought functions on a different plane, and for this reason, the method of transmitting Torah is distinctive and unique.

This unique educational requirement – recognizing Kabbalat HaTorah and Ma’amad Har Sinai as a necessity for the Torah learning of each generation - is succinctly stated in the Torah itself, in (Exodus 4:9-10): “But guard yourself and guard your soul carefully, lest you forget the words that your eyes have seen, and lest it be removed from your heart all the days of your life; that you make this known to your sons and your grandsons. The day that you stood before Hashem, your G-d, at Horev….” Ramban rules it a Torah imperative to remember the basis of all Torah, the Sinai revelation, forever, and to transmit this foundation of our faith to our children:
The benefits of this Mitzva are exceedingly great, for if the Torah would come from the mouth of Moshe alone, though his prophecy has been proven through signs and miracles, a prophet or dreamer can arise and command us to violate the Torah, providing signs or miracles, and doubt would enter man’s mind. But, when the Torah comes from G-d to us - our own eyes and ears, without intermediary, we can contradict those who dispute and raise doubt, and prove him false....as it says: ‘and also in you [Moshe] will they have faith forever’ (Exodus 19:9). For by transmitting this matter to our children, they will know it is true without doubt, as if it were witnessed by each generation, for we will not give false testimony to our children, nor bequeath them vanities and nonsense, and they will not question the testimony we present… (Ramban, Devarim 4:9)

This is puzzling: Is the basis of our faith the fact that fathers never transmit falsehood to their children? Is that valid evidence? Do we deny that fathers sometimes, but not always, teach their children irrational ideas? How can trust in our fathers serve as the ideal foundation of belief? Why is this more effective than witnessing miraculous signs from Heaven?

* * *

In high school, to my sorrow, though there was a focus on learning, I must say that I and all those around me keenly felt that the atmosphere was one of competition to achieve in general studies. We learned, but it was purely by coincidence. It had no real meaning… The values that I did pick up were: the extreme importance of "doing well," of attaining a successful career and of being pro-Israel…..Judaism was mitzvat anashim melummadah. The speeches are all there, but the actions were not. How can our parents talk about talmud Torah when they don’t learn? How can they talk about being medakdek be-mitzvot when we saw them being careless? When we got to Israel, we found people who weren't hypocrites. Who did what they said, and learned. Who made avodat ha-Shem their ikkar in life….Growing up we teach our children that talmud Torah is crucially important - but then we are not careful to make sure that they actively learn. We don’t mind if they spend endless time on TV, internet, and other things. Kids are VERY sensitive to these kinds of issues. You can not emphasize one thing in tefillah and classroom, but then let it go in 'the real world’.
(“Flipper” – a young man explaining his religious transformation while spending a post-high school year in Israel”)
This young man learned what his parents taught; only it was not so much the words they taught as the reality of their lives that impacted on him. In fact, this is always how we teach. Curriculum and lesson plans are just words, but a teacher does more – he teaches himself. This is even more true when the teacher is a father teaching his son, where the student is a physical extension of his teacher.

The Sinai Revelation is the eternal Torah lesson. It was not merely an experiential event, and what remains with us from that day are not only the words, rules and instructions. The revelation was the transmission of life itself. All of creation hung in the balance, for reality was defined at that moment. To pass this on to the next generation is not only to validate the evidence of that experience, but to transmit the essence of life. This is what a father transmits to his children. Klal Yisrael, connected to the essence of existence, bequeaths that portion of life to its descendants. “A father does not give false testimony or transmit vanities to his children;” meaning: he extends and expands his own living truth, which reflects his own life and the life of every Jew, to the next generation. But if instead, his stated instructions are not consistent with his own behavior, and if he dedicates his own life to ephemeral materialistic pursuits, his children receive a different message. His Torah is not true.

Torah Study and “Benefit”

Many of our students see no practical benefit to Torah study, nor do they have a compelling reason to devote hours of their lengthy school day to analysis of obscure and esoteric texts. Attuned only to an educational system where academic proficiency garners acceptance to the college of choice and is a tool for professional success, they have not assimilated the idea that Torah study is different – it is Divine service for its own sake.
Ethan was creating a disturbance in his Talmud class, again. His teacher called to him after class, and asked for an explanation. “Nothing personal, rabbi, you’re a nice guy, but what do I need this for? Why don’t you understand that I’m just not interested?! What does Gemara do for me, anyways? Just one rabbi arguing with another, that’s all this is.”

When Torah is placed on a parallel footing with other subjects we teach, students will naturally measure which class is more valuable and pertinent, and cannot be blamed for underestimating the Torah’s significance. But, the Torah is not merely another subject. It is intellectual activity of a different sort.

“The Torah is not found by merchants" (Eiruvin 55A). The Maharal of Prague explains that merchants are involved in a constant give-and-take, weighing one option against another, and calculating their worth. But such is not the way of Torah. The Torah is above and beyond all challenge. Man cannot disregard the Torah’s word, not because it is prohibited, but because Torah is the source and definition of the very reality we live in. Torah cannot be measured against anything else, because the Torah is the singular basis of all existence. G-d is One and His Torah is One.

The Torah is not merely a better option, with rules for healthy living. The Torah is illumination: ki ner mitzvah ve-Torah or (Mishlei 6:23). It is a brilliant flash of light that illuminates the world with understanding and comprehension, banishing the forces of darkness. Torah is a different perspective, and from its vantage point, man acquires the tools to confront a beckoning world. For this reason, at Har Sinai all the world was silent – in the light of Torah, no competition truly exists.

The Torah is not a matter of choice. It is an all-encompassing state of being. Whenever Torah is studied, man recreates the Sinai experience, and it is the task of a Jewish school to introduce that lofty vision into the lives of the next generation. Acceptance of Torah is feasible only when the echo of Har Sinai is heard, and our students must recognize that they too have stood beneath that mountain.

With all this in mind, let us now turn to our own educational system, and see where adjustments may be in order.

Torah is life

The traditional Yeshiva’s focus on Talmud is criticized and often misunderstood. Talmud is not a subject but a way of life. In fact, a well-known practice in Yeshivot of old was to study for days on end, with the most diligent students persisting until they dropped from exhaustion. Not that this was sound advice, but, just as life has no interruption, and man breathes without a break, Torah is best studied in the same manner.

No matter where he stands on the spectrum of Orthodoxy, a dedicated and devoted Rebbe will similarly inspire his students. An influential educator considers Torah to be his lifeblood – “Ki Hem Chayenu”. Only then will his Shiurim and lectures be enthusiastic and inspiring, and only then will his students sense the infusion of a higher source that resonates through the Torah that he transmits. The students must sense that their Rebbe is transmitting echoes of his own Rebbe, and in that transmission the sound of Sinai can still be discerned. He must contain more than he is giving over, and his students will detect something of the unlimited nature of Torah that is the Rebbe’s heart, and know that he is holding back much more, teaching them now only as much as they can understand.

Torah is transmitted from Rebbe to Talmid

Today’s greater access to Torah through data base searches, or prepared texts available on file, will not automatically produce the kind of Jews that will ensure our dynamic future as a people. Torah cannot be mastered merely by careful textual analysis, nor can neophyte scholars chart new courses based upon their own readings of ancient texts. Torah and Halacha make reference to the text, but true Torah is shaped by the teachers and Gaonim of each generation, whose living Torah of sincerity, humility, piety and authenticity actualize and validate their approach.

Torah is not just an accumulation of facts

Which massekhet to study is a question of minor significance in traditional yeshivot. The purpose of Torah study is not merely to memorize the details of the four prototypes of damage, the three methods by which to betroth a woman, or the answer to any particular question, but the goal and purpose of Torah study is the connection to G-d that comes with dedicated and ongoing Torah contemplation. This is not to suggest that information is not important, or that the subject matter need not be mastered, but that Torah is transmitted in a different sort of way. In other words, it is possible for one to know the right information but to remain disengaged – devoid of true commitment.

Torah is not defined by its text and the information it contains; rather, it is defined by what is contained in the heart and soul of the rebbe that he transmits to his own students. “How foolish are most people; they stand before a Torah scroll, but not before a Torah scholar!” (Makkot 22b). The rebbe is the true Torah. He must be a living example and embodiment of the Torah lessons that he teaches. He brings Torah to life and gives expression to a deeper reality. He transmits himself to his students, and to the extent that he faithfully reflects the Torah, he provides them with an alternative that they too can strive for.

To do so, however, the educator/rebbe himself must be immersed in the intricacies of a difficult Talmudic problem before he presents it to others. If he has spent a complete evening attempting to decipher a difficult Tosafot, or find an answer to Rabbi Akiva Eiger’s question; if he has stayed awake while contemplating a philosophical dilemma, he will have no problem drawing his own students near. If on the other hand, he perfunctorily recites mimeographed lessons, and can demonstrate only that the Torah has interesting answers to relevant questions, his students will not be convinced of the Torah’s unique status and authority, and they will be no more enthused than he.

The rebbe must be a voice of authority

Democratic principles are wonderful tools for a lively and engaging classroom experience, but they can never capture the true flavor of Torah mi-Sinai. The rebbe must be perceived as a divine messenger, presenting a binding and undeniable connection with G-d. He need not possess charisma or charm, and it should not be his magnetic personality that students find convincing; the compelling nature of Torah itself will guide his students to focus on the devar ha-Shem.

Torah and “relevance”

The oft-stated suggestion to make Torah relevant by studying tractates with familiar observances such as Sukkah or Rosh HaShanah misses the point. To show Torah’s relevance and vitality, we need simply to engage our students’ minds and peel away the layers that conceal the heart of each Talmudic discussion. This can be done best while studying Nashim and Nezikin, whose ready case law lends itself easily to sharp and riveting analysis that demands full and intense concentration. A captivated mind quickly discovers a universe of subtle detail, and this is more effective--and more relevant--than the highly touted method of tracing a particular Halakhah from beginning to end.

Torah must be experienced

This can not take place solely in the classroom. Many of our students spend years in the classroom, but have yet to study Torah on their own accord, accomplishing little more than attaining the information they need for the next exam. In many schools, the classroom framework serves both Torah and secular studies, with students shuttling to and fro from one course to the next. This setting may be conducive for studying information, but is not ideal for talmud Torah, which is presented best in the traditional beit midrash learning ‘seder’, a self-contained dimension of learning without end - no interruptions, no distractions, and no breaks, where students are bound neither by lesson plans, subject matter or curriculum.

Torah cannot be harnessed to a particular ideological agenda

Torah exists in the heart of each individual as a living and vibrant truth, actualized by the choices he makes in the face of personal and private tribulation. Attempts to promote a particular ideology, modern Orthodox, haredi, or anything in between, will never bear fruit, for efforts to cite Torah sources to justify one’s ideological approach reduces the Torah to a supporting role, denuding it of its eternal message and power. For this reason, we cannot teach students to be Modern Orthodox, for even miracles from Heaven will not insure the loyalties of future generations. Only the deep inner commitment that comes with true clarity and inspiration can achieve this.

Torah is axiomatic and not open to “scientific” experimentation

Torah is light illuminating the darkness. The way of science is hypothesis; experimentation and proof, and yesterday’s theories are exposed to continuous reevaluation. If the Torah were taught in a similar way, with the need for evidence, instrumentality, and hope of reward, it, too, would be subject to reevaluation. But the Torah, when presented properly, cannot be rejected - for to reject Torah is to reject life, deny existence, and misrepresent the unity of G-d. Without minimizing the necessity or value of secular studies, students must appreciate and understand these differences. But when Torah subjects are lumped together with others in a cross-curriculum endeavor, the clarity and singular nature of Torah may be lost.

The tone and tenor of the institution must be established by Torah scholars

Gedolei Yisrael have always been enveloped in an aura of peace and quiet, and visitors walk away awed and inspired, honored by a man who heeded the needs of each individual with dignity and respect, relating to each person as if he were an olam malei. In contrast, too often it seems that the highest position on the school totem pole is reserved for the C.E.O. of a major corporation, surrounded by secretaries and functionaries who prioritize his time. And an unfortunate outgrowth of this trend is the extra efforts extended to increase the school population, with an inordinate focus on quantity – forgetting all the while that G-d did not choose the Jewish people for their numbers.

Students are not foolish. They sense and they perceive very clearly. If school leaders are concerned with organization, image and public relations, that attitude filters throughout the institution, and the students are the first to sense this lack of integrity. And when a school’s priorities are not the spiritual and moral development of each individual, but rather, the growth and health of the institution, students begin to look elsewhere for direction.

To summarize: Our task is to build Torah Jews one by one. It may be a fond, unrealistic hope, but somehow we must see to it that the most influential figures in school are those who carry the name of Heaven on their lips, who are “holding in learning” and spreading Torah to their students. Ideally, this could well be the principal, and occasionally it can be a rebbe, but in no case should it be the builders, movers, shakers and moneymakers if they do not meet the rest of the specifications. We must be grateful to such people for their sincere efforts, but the model for the Jewish future must be a Torah personality.

It also seems, at times, that an erroneous conception has crept into our communities, namely that ritual observance of the mitzvot is the sum total of G-d’s will, with nary a word about ameilut ba-Torah (total immersion in Torah) or avodat ha-Shem (serious service of G-d). When Torah study is not valued for its own sake, and our lessons are only for immediate and practical import, society loses sight of the Torah world. And when Orthodoxy is taught merely as rules for good living and a ticket to Heaven, it is little wonder that so many of our youth, who have more pressing concerns and more attractive alternatives, are not enthused by its message.

Spiritual entities are one of a kind: harmonious and unitary. When Torah defines all of life, it is all-encompassing and for this reason the true Torah scholarship is holistic. A student attached to the Torah senses that Torah is his life and neither vanities nor pleasures will tempt him to leave it. For Torah education to succeed, we need not prove that the Torah has measurably better answers to the issues of the day. Instead, we need to demonstrate, by example, that the Torah reflects a different and more sublime reality.

Our challenge is to inspire our children with the courage and tools to make the right choices. Whether they choose to be doctors, lawyers, kollel students or rabbis, makes little objective difference; by striving his utmost in the face of private difficulties, each and every Jew, in his distinctive set of circumstances, can successfully actualize G-d’s will in his own life. In this way, he becomes an integral part of the Jewish people, acquiring his own portion of Torah, and he will carry this message with pride on the road to eternity.

Thursday, March 17, 2005

BATTLE CRY OF A NEW GENERATION

By Rabbi Heshy Grossman

The Chazon Ish was once asked to explain his continued support for Yeshivos whose classes were conducted in Ivrit, a modern innovation that a previous generation had opposed. He responded with a parable:

"A country under attack calls upon a veteran army general to return and lead the nation’s defense. Rising to the opportunity, he gathers his troops and stations them at the historic front where many years ago he achieved his fame, despite the fact that today, the battlefront is elsewhere..."

Something has shifted in Orthodox life in America and in our vaunted school system. Our students are different; their values are harder to recognize, and the issues they confront in their own lives are new to us. Frank discussion with the best of our students, from the finest Yeshivos, will reveal that most can relate to, if not identify with, their rebellious peers. Though they would never abandon the ways of Torah themselves, for too many, their fidelity is often not a sign of conviction, but rather, inertia, or the lack of a better alternative. After all, it is not easy to throw overboard one’s friends, family, community and people.

Let us understand this: the primary restraint on the potential dropout is not cognitive. Rather, his emotional attachments to family and friends (and hopefully, to his Rebbeim and teachers) keep him within the Torah community. When this connection is strong and resilient, defying the Torah is unthinkable, but when this link is severed, children begin to look elsewhere.

A rabbi in an outlying community strikes up a conversation with David, a nineteen-year-old boy who has been in and out of Yeshivos, and had experienced a stormy relationship with his Chassidic family.

"Where are you from?"

"Well, I'm considering moving to this town."

"But, where do you live now?"

"I'm looking for a place right now."

The rabbi begins to get frustrated. "But, where is your family from?"

"Look, I was born in Brooklyn, and my parents still live there, but I packed out a while ago. I can't stand it over there."

This child did not want to leave the city for fresh air, and was not suffering from common family tensions. He could not acknowledge his family or his environment because he is struggling to define a new identity for himself. And when children of frum families, in frum communities, look for a new identity, Yiddishkeit will not be part of that package, at least not the brand of Yiddishkeit that reminds them of their former selves.

THE NEW AMERICANS

Students have always faced difficulties, and many fine Baaleibatim recall their Yeshiva years as far from successful; nevertheless, until recently, dropping out was not an option.

I grew up in the late 60's and 70s, in an Orthodox neighborhood. Though my friends and I did not take learning very seriously, certain pastimes were simply inconceivable to us. None of us ever entered a bar, or consumed hard liquor - even at weddings. Not because these actions were forbidden, but because they were reserved for Goyim.

We were the children of survivors and we grew up in the shadow of the Holocaust. The Yeshivos we attended were directed by Rebbeim who had either learned in Europe themselves, or had been trained by those who had.

Our parents' identity was clear. They were Jews who would never truly fit the American mold. They had no interest in baseball or rock-and-roll, nor had they any inkling as to why anyone else might.

Somehow, the sense of distinctiveness, and the pride of being religious, has been lost.

Recently, a teacher posed the following questions to American seminary students in Yerushalayim:

"If you had the option to be born again as a Jew or a Goy, which would you choose?", and "In your opinion, who has a more attractive and enjoyable lifestyle, Jews or Goyim?"

Unbelievably, nearly 70% of the respondents displayed misgivings about their own identity.

In those days, religious Jews deeply distrusted the non-Jewish world that allowed the destruction to happen, and wanted no part of that world and its culture. But for the new generation, the destruction of European Jewry is ancient history. Their milieu is purely American.

Gradually, the Orthodox Jew co-opted the lifestyle of a secular society; financial success, suburbia, nice cars, and biannual vacations, thus transforming the pursuit of physical comfort and pleasure into one of the driving goals in Jewish life, albeit with a kosher twist. This shift in values betrays more than extravagance; it is symptomatic of a subtle attitude change. Whereas in the past, the values of the American culture were meant for the Goyim, and the Jew was grateful for its freedoms, today the Jew actively seeks out the finest of Americana.

It seems, at times, as if we have created a strange type of Shatnez, a mixture of piety and ritual observance, together with extravagant indulgence and American apple pie. We have distorted the Torah's message, and in the process, we are witness to the weakening of our very foundations, not to mention the dissolution and dysfunction in many of our homes.

The Ramban explains that "Kedoshim Tihyu" calls for more than a heightened sense of spirituality, and more than additional stringencies for the pious and diligent few. Rather, this Mitzva encompasses and incorporates all the others. It is the heart and essence of the Torah, and, it postulates that religious observance will transform us into a nation of priests. For otherwise, it is possible for one to be technically observant, and yet to miss the point of Avodas Hashem. In other words, the chase after materialism does more than prevent man from reaching the desired heights, it creates a fraudulent persona, and shatters his basic Torah identity.

It is, then, inevitable, that in the absence of holiness, observance is often devoid of true meaning and purpose. Mitzvos are performed by rote, with lip service given to values that are not deeply held.

The inescapable fact is that a new generation no longer relates to Judaism the way Jews once did, and nothing is to be taken for granted. It is necessary, therefore, to reassess the standard methods of imparting values to our youth, and to discover where certain adjustments may be in order.

LOOKING AT OUR SCHOOLS

Without a doubt, our community is blessed with numerous strong schools who are extremely successful in imparting their values to their students. However, not every school can hope to emulate this success, nor can every school imitate the methods of traditional institutions, because not every school is able to put together the optimum mix of committed parents, solid environment, and background of students that guarantees a positive response to their approach.

In the past (and in our most elite Yeshivos and Bais Yaakov schools today), the function of the educational system was to develop the cognitive skills of our youth and train them towards maturity. Responsibility, commitment, organization, integrity, and academic excellence were the primary traits we hoped to transmit. Students who could not meet these standards quickly faced serious consequences - either disciplinary procedures or sundry punishments - both at home and at school.

These objectives and methods were valid when our students identified with the core values of the community. Yearning to achieve a place of pride in school and at home, they accepted the authority of school administrators, and looked for guidance as they progressed further in Torah and Yiras Shamayim. The rules and restrictions of school life were natural. Their significance was understood, and administrative prohibitions were respected, if not observed. When caught with a violation, students knew that a punishment was deserved, and appreciated the opportunity to atone for their mistakes.

Here are two examples, both taking place years ago, where punishment had a positive effect:

Moish had been caught with a group of friends vandalizing a snack stand. Though the actual damage was minimal, Moish was expelled from the Yeshiva for theft. "I know that I messed up, and I am going to get thrown out. I can't believe that I was so stupid. I always make the wrong decisions."

Moish was subsequently accepted to a good Yeshiva, made slow but steady progress, and is today a well- respected member of the community.

A similar story:

Judy comes from a Torah family, her father is a prominent Talmid Chacham. Always a bit impulsive, she was caught socializing with boys nearby the local Yeshiva. She was asked to leave town, and completed her high school elsewhere. This story took place over twenty years ago. Today, Judy is the mother of seven children, and is married to a prominent Talmid Chacham and Mechanech.

Judy understood full well the values of her home, and had no intent to leave the path of her family. She had a bit of a wild streak, and was merely flirting with the rules. She understood that her punishment was deserved, and in a sense, she cherished the opportunity to get a new start.

But punishments like these are effective only where students accept the school’s basic worldview and understand the natural consequences of their behavior. Unfortunately, this acquiescence can no longer be assumed. Many schools are finding their students to be materialistic and pleasure seeking, and face resistance when urging their charges to harmonize the Torah’s lofty ideals.

Recognizing that true spirituality can never be easily imposed, our priority should be to first demonstrate the beauty of Torah, and to insure that our students’ school experience is a positive one. Otherwise, we will be unable to encourage the difficult lifestyle changes we expect them to make.

Frequently, negativity is needlessly created in the implementation of school policy, especially in areas that are not critical to our children's development. Take, for example, a student who is tardy to class, or leaves the classroom unexcused. A decision may be taken to punish that student, who may then lash out angrily or inappropriately. The principal now responds to this new outburst, and soon the original transgression becomes lost in a mountain of troubles. True, school decorum is important, but we must first ascertain that disciplinary actions do not cause more harm than good. If our students are out of touch with the rules that govern their behavior, they see the imposition of restrictions as a foreign intrusion. In those instances, they often have no real sense of why their actions are wrong, and enforcement breeds unnecessary resentment.

Hence, it is critical to insure that punishments are depersonalized, and instituted only after a positive and personal relationship has been established between students and administration. Students must sense that disciplinary measures are being imposed only reluctantly, and are not being used as a power play. All too often, we force our students to adhere to trivialities, brandishing our ability to punish them at will. Such actions, either in the classroom, or in the principal’s office, are antithetical to true Chinuch.

'Esti' and 'Sari', both fifteen-year old students in a non-New York Bais Yaakov, had violated the school dress code. They were both a bit precocious, and even a bit mischievous, but at heart, girls who could be won over with a kind word. They needed to be punished, but the question was how.

The principal called them into his office.

"Listen, girls, you and I both know that by the time you graduate this school, you will both be outstanding seniors, examples of frumkeit and virtuosity, and models for all the students to admire."

They smiled.

"So, I have a good idea. Being that we both know how this story will end, why are we fighting? Let's start being frum now!"

What the principal did was this: he transformed a potentially explosive situation into an opportunity for growth. Rather than automatically penalizing their infraction, he utilized their misbehavior to form a positive relationship. Along the way, he planted in their minds the following notions: 1) he recognizes that they are top students, valuable to the school 2) behaving badly is beneath them and 3) they will soon be much greater than they are now. How could they be angry with that?

Teenagers rarely accept or reject Torah and Hashkafa for purely intellectual reasons. They first measure their personal regard for their teacher, and only afterwards do they agree to accept their words.

At the beginning of the semester, Devora interrupted the teacher's lesson with an impertinent comment. The teacher, who had been frustrated with his inability to reach this particular class of students, responded sarcastically, and with a hint of anger. The next time this class met, Devora, insulted and embarrassed, had moved her seat to the very back of the classroom. For the balance of the school year, despite the teacher's many attempts at reconciliation, Devora participated only when prodded, and most often, put her head down throughout the shiur.

Experienced educators will find this story familiar. One ill-placed remark can easily spell the end of a teacher-student relationship, and in our present set of circumstances, it is the relationship that is the key, not the studies that are being recited.

Generally, our desire to preach is premature - if our students have connected with us, they will come to us for advice, and if they haven't, our words of encouragement often have the opposite effect. It is not our words of Torah that will win them over, but rather, our ability to connect with them in a deep and meaningful way. Rather than haranguing our students or posturing, we should first assure that our students are happy, and would be best served by avoiding confrontations, not allowing frivolous issues to affect the students' desire to accept our spiritual demands.

Rivky was a student who was headed in the right direction. Vulnerable to temptation, the administration felt that she was making steady strides, though she had not yet made a commitment to become a true Bas Torah.

Two days before the annual school retreat, an outing anticipated for months by the entire student body, Rivky was told that she could not come along, for despite clear and stern warnings, she had skipped class once too often. She was called into the principal's office:

"You know that you were wrong, Rivky, you were warned, and yet, you deliberately chose to challenge authority."

"Rabbi, I used to love this school, I told everybody what a great place this is, but now, I really wish that I would have gone to the modern school instead!"

Was the administration technically right? Yes.

Did Rivky deserve a punishment? Yes.

But did the consequence in this case have a positive effect? This is questionable.

A message had been sent to the students that the administration was not to be crossed. The students now recognized that the teachers were more powerful than they, and that the rules must be observed, or else. Granted, these are wonderful lessons. But these messages are appropriate only when our students are completely with us, on every level. For the student who has not yet identified with our goals, such punishment serves only to lessen the likelihood that they will accept Torah values.

It is a school’s responsibility to train its students to travel the right path, and it will succeed only by motivating them to make the right choices.

Often, complaints are expressed about students who are not performing up to par. The general impression is that if students are not behaving in ways that we hope for, it is because they are not being pushed hard enough. Let us therefore force them, and this will solve the problem.

This is an erroneous conception. Our goal is not to have students comply with the standards of behavior that we demand, but rather, to have our values assimilated by them and accepted as their own.

It is not obedience that we want, but inspiration.

The principal of a Bais Yaakov high school was asked by a prospective parent if he speaks to his students about the importance of marrying Bnei Torah who will intensively study Torah for a number of years after marriage.

"The question is not whether I tell them to marry Kollel boys or not", he responded, "but, whether or not they will want to marry Kollel boys!"

Coercion can be maintained for a limited amount of time, while our youth are still under our thumb, but, more often, it creates a negative association with deeds we are striving to have them adopt. Without care and sensitivity, the hostility we create may last a lifetime.

Ahuva is a sweet girl who was raised in a Torah home far outside the New York metropolitan area. Her father and grandfather are Talmidei Chachamim. She has no desire to rebel and looked forward to attending high school in New York, where she would grow and be inspired.

Boarding had been arranged at a Torah home, and the host parents were apprehensive about the 'out-of-town' values that Ahuva might bring with her. Immediately upon her arrival, she was handed a list of rules, ninety-nine percent of which dealt with Tznius issues. Her appearance was carefully scrutinized each morning, and then again upon her return. Skirts cannot be too short, but also not too long. Conversation, she was instructed, should be limited to Devarim SheBeKedusha. Please do not discuss the news. Your acquaintances are poor company, no visitors allowed. No makeup, no eye shadow, no lip gloss, no nail polish, no....... no......... no........

Ahuva had never realized before that she was such a bad influence, nor had she any idea that she dressed so immodestly.

Ahuva has learned how to adjust her skirt to the desired length before she comes home, and to roll it out again when she leaves; to pin her hair up before she comes home, and to let it down afterwards.

In class one day, the teacher was discussing an issue of Tznius and was challenged by Ahuva: 'Why are certain women so concerned about Tznius and not bothered by their Middos? Which is more important, anyway?'

The principal was shocked to hear of this incident, because Ahuva was one of his model students. Investigating, he discovers the issues at her host home, and suddenly understands the source of the problem.

In Ahuva's life, we have succeeded in creating the Tznius monster. Rather than presenting the values of modesty as a natural statement of a woman's inner beauty, Ahuva has been taught that 1) she is a bad influence on other people 2) she cannot live up to the standards of B'nei Torah 3) Mitzvos equals pressure. Thus painted in her mind as a rebel, can she be blamed for challenging her teacher's values?

RULES AND STANDARDS

But, before we urge our administrators to ease school structure, it is important to take pause, and to recognize, as well, that attempts to weaken student discipline can have a deleterious effect on the school environment. For a school to succeed at improving students’ behavior, it is critical that high standards of performance be maintained and enforced. Students must learn to conform to acceptable norms, and schools who bend the rules too often are likely to find that their instructions are no longer taken seriously.

Thus, the delicate balance between discipline and positive methods of re-enforcement poses a real dilemma. I would suggest that an effective means of moderating school expectations would recognize the difference between enforcing oppressive rules and maintaining appropriate standards.

Reasonable people will honor the standards of others when requested to do so. Students readily accede to a plea to abide by higher community standards when that request is not personally threatening. In such instances, adherence does not imply identification with a message that may be beyond them, but is simply a statement of respect for others. Rather than to impose rules on an unwilling student body, it would be better to pleasantly ask for compliance, and to focus efforts on the more important task of educating students to growth in maturity and Jewish values. In this way, disciplinary standards will be maintained, while at the same time, patience and understanding will produce students who are more receptive to our message. But we must learn to bide our time and wait until they’re ready.

Truthfully, when implemented with care, even rules that are imposed by fiat can unify a student body rather than become sources of conflict.

Let us examine the issue of school uniforms:

Most of our Bais Yaakov high schools have official school uniforms. Though students’ personal clothing may not be in synch with the higher uniform standard, they often recognize that uniforms are beneficial for effective school policy and discipline. Yet, motivating girls to wear the school uniform is not a difficult task. Many are quick to design school sweatshirts and jackets, replete with official school emblems.

The key is this: just as sports teams or fraternal organizations have uniforms their members are proud to don, so too, creating a positive and attractive environment makes students long to be part of a group setting. Recreating this scenario in varied areas can effectively reduce the negative pressures associated with Tznius and many other rules in the minds of our youth. Our goal is to first create a warm and caring environment, one that our youngsters are anxious to join and proud to be a part of.

And if the values of the school are clearly defined, and successful alumni are showered with praise, the direction and objectives will be recognized by each of the students. Those who long to remain part of the school circle will adopt the practices and mores of their friends and mentors – on their own - with no need for undue pressure and confrontation.

MOTIVATION AND UNDERSTANDING

Many of our students believe that Aveiros are to be avoided because sinning is evil, and if caught, they will be punished, either by the authorities, their parents, or G-d.

With this attitude, it is no wonder that so many of our students lack enthusiasm for Mitzvos, or respond that they admire the ways of the non-Jew. In their mind, Aveiros are attractive and enjoyable, but as believers, they feel that the ‘fun’ is not worth the price.

Like most people, the primary concern of our children is their own self-interest. Those who would rather be doing Aveiros are restrained only by an external force that will never guarantee eternal fidelity. If, on the other hand, we can impart to our youth the notion that Mitzvos are the key to a happy and fulfilled life, they will pity those who have missed the boat, and appreciate our many demands.

But if we fail to understand our students, they will never realize the advantage of taking our exhortations to heart.

A certain lecturer has recently become very popular, addressing the questions of religious youth in high schools throughout the country.

After participating in the seminar, one student told her principal: "I learned more here in an hour and a half than I have in the past three years."

Another responded: "He spoke about things that we really want to hear about, but nobody ever discusses with us."

These comments are a serious indictment of our schools. Can it be that students perceive that they are not being spoken to?

Many students feel that the school curriculum does not address their true interests. Take, for example, the common Chumash lesson. Teacher will read a Pasuk and present the different opinions of the Rishonim, perhaps explaining how each opinion is derived from the text. The students will dutifully memorize this information, but the teacher did not impart the essential message: that this Torah discussion is addressing them directly as individuals. The Torah stands in contrast to man's evil inclinations - "Lo Dibrah Torah Ela K'Neged Yetzer Hara". Shiurim and lectures must speak to students' hearts, not to their notebooks.

It's not that more needs to be done to answer students' questions, though a greater willingness to address their doubts is certainly advisable. Rather, we should be more cognizant of their lives, and more aware of their interests; to make it clear that teachers and administration understand their needs, and that the Torah addresses their own lives.

To make the Torah real, we must transform the school experience into one that is an integral element of adolescence, fortifying them for the future and the inevitable battles with the surrounding culture. Of course, the study of texts, and the transmission of critical skills are prerequisites in education, but perhaps we need to reassess whether our schools are dealing with today's students as they are, and if they truly understand the mindset of today's youth.

To summarize: because most of our students have their basic worldview framed first by American values, the Torah's commands must be superimposed upon foreign soil. For today’s schools to be successful, they must first win their students over emotionally, and only afterwards transmit their demands intellectually. Acceptance of new values requires a different worldview - a paradigm shift - and people cannot change overnight. Discipline may coerce students into accepted behavior, but it will never change attitudes, and certainly never inspire them.

There are positive aspects to the present situation that can be utilized if understood properly.

Today, there is very little of substance that competes with the Torah for the hearts of our youngsters. The common perception that the street is an attraction for our children is simply not true. The tawdry and vacuous fantasies of the popular culture can only draw those who are unhappy and dissatisfied, and it is no match for the intellectually, emotionally, and spiritually fulfilling life that the Torah offers. Our students are not fighting with us as much as they are empty shells, waiting for the right teacher to fill the vacuum. If we create institutions that are inviting, our students will be more than ready to stretch a little higher in order to join the fraternity. But, it is the sense of belonging that must be established first, before the values are imparted.

None of this is meant to imply that all, or even most of our students, need these methods. Many of our enclaves are filled with traditional families who have maintained the old standards and have little need for changes. But certainly, all of our institutions can be injected with a new spirit, one where the primary concern is the development of our students and care for their well being.

Ronnie was twenty-two years old and ready to begin looking for a Shidduch. A former Rebbe called proposing a certain match. Ronnie accepted immediately.

"But, don't you want to know about her, or her family?" the Rebbe asked.

"Rebbe, if you say that I should meet her, that's all the information I need."

This is the relationship that we must create with all of our students, at any age, and at every stage of their lives.