The Fifth Child

The Fifth Child has a new home (click here to be transported)

2011-12-15T06:06:00.000-08:00

The Fifth Child has moved to JCast Network. You can access my blog here. When you travel to jcastnetwork.org you'll find a lot of great content from Rabbi Joe Black, Amichai Lau-Lavie, The Schmoozer, and many other Jewish cultural and educational leaders. Check it out!

Occupy Jewish Education

2011-11-29T06:18:00.000-08:00

Something has been bothering me lately. Where are all the congregational educators? Let me back up. If you've read my previous posts, you know that I've been taking part in on-line conversations about Jewish education. They've been great. They've opened doors that lead to a bevy of potential Jewish futures. But there's one element that is noticeably absent. My colleagues. Congregational/complimentary Jewish educators.

Don't get me wrong. There's been a relatively large cohort of complimentary educators participating in the webinars I've "attended". There's a lot of irony here. Webinars are becoming "old school". They're "formal" learning environments in cyberspace - a lecture in the cloud. Sort of passive (though one can chat). They're like frontal teaching in a classroom. L'havdil, the twitter and google+ based conversations that have popped up (#edchat, #jedchat, Hangouts) represent a new type of "informal"and "experiential" learning. And it's here that we find a dirth of synagogue educators. Why?

Okay, I know - we're out there. Of course we are. The majority of students that are enrolled in some type of structured Jewish educational program attend supplemenatary/congregational schools (at least according to Jack Wertheimer's "Recent Trends in Supplementary Jewish Education"). And yes there is some very very important work being done to transform the way the majority receives their Jewish education. One great example is The Coalition ofInnovating Congregations, in the New York area. This community that has taken on Cyd Weissman's "Lomed Challenge" will ultimately change the face of complimentary Jewish education. Kol HaKavod. My issue is that a disproportionate amount of attention is being lavished on full time Jewish education, even though it does not service most of the students. PLEASE NOTE: This is not a critique of the Day School movement, which serves an incredibly important purpose. I'm commenting on a state of affairs that relates to (mostly) synagogue based education.

At the last two #jedchats, I attempted to ascertain if any congregational educators were present in that portion of the cloud. I asked the question: "Any congregational/complimentary educators here?" The virtual silence was deafening. All of the other participants were Day School/yeshiva educators. A couple of weeks ago, educational technologist Sarah Shapiro-Plevan (@shaplev)hosted a google+ hangout geared specifically to synagogue educators. The turnout was...well... underwhelming. Why does it seem that we are so underrepresented in the emerging Jewish cloud. Where is our digital footprint? We teach the majority. Why aren't we present?

Day Schools, like their mostly secular counterparts (both public and private) are beginning to devote a larger proportion of resources integrating technology into their programs. Most synagogues are not able too. Their leaders are too concerned about paying the electric bills. I know of very few synagogues (actually I've only heard of one or two) that have any type of specialist devoted to Information/Education Technology. Usually it's the innovative teacher or education director who will explore the cloud, usually on an antiquated PC or laptop. It's an issue of time and money. And that's the problem. We need to draw attention to ourselves. We need the world to see that "Hebrew school" isn't the same as it was. It's evolving. And it's worth investing in, like Day Schools. Jewish public money from Federations as well as from private funders stream into the Day School movement. Why shouldn't the majority receive a proportional level of this largess?

We complimentary Jewish educators need to raise our voices. We need the movers and shakers in the Jewish world to start noticing that we are transforming part-time Jewish education, creating a climate that will encourage our students to engage in a pluralistic Jewish life tomorrow. We must stretch ourselves, take a risk, enter uncharted virtual territory and raise our profiles. Let's participate in #jedchat (Wednesdays at 9:00 EST). We can join videoconferences such as the Google + Hangout #jewpronet, hosted by Darim Online's Miriam Brosseau (@miriamjayne). The next one is at 2:30 pm EST on Thursday, December 1. Of course, last but certainly not least, we can appear at the next congregational educator Hangout (#congedchat) taking place on December 6, at 12:30 pm EST. Contact Sarah Shapiro-Plevan (@shaplev) to "rsvp".

Maybe now is the time to take a cue from the OWS movement as it's being evicted from physical space.
Maybe now is the time to Occupy Jewish Education - at least in the Cloud. All in the name of Complimentary Jewish Education.

The Big Bang - Adventures in Cyberspace

2011-11-01T10:26:00.000-07:00

The universe is expanding. That’s the core of the Big Bang Theory. As the cosmos gets older, everything in it moves apart. Not to delve too much into such esoterica like Hubbles Law, I need to affirm - אני מאמין - I'm a believer. In the last week I experienced something akin to this phenomenon in my own universe. Let’s call it the Virtual Big Bang.

Last Wednesday I participated in the first #jedchat., organized by Dov Emerson, Rabbi Akevy Greenblatt and Rabbi Meir Wexler. What was special about this was its synchronicity. Dozens of Jewish educators from around the globe simultaneously came together on twitter to build a new professional learning network. This real-time inaugural conversation focused mostly on introductions and general brainstorming about how to use twitter to grow this nascent PLN. Suggestions for the topic of this Wednesday’s (November 2^nd at 9:00 PM eastern time) were thrown out. We are all anxiously awaiting the result of the online poll that will ultimately determine what we’ll tweet about.

Then, earlier this week I took part in a Google+Hangout, initiated by Miram Brosseau, focusing on the bridge that is being constructed between technology and experiential education. If you haven’t yet experienced a G+Hangout, you should. All it requires is a Google+ account, a quick and painless browser plug-in download, a webcam and yalla…you’re in. Video conferencing is old news, I know, but what G+ seems to have done is created a free and seamless environment for folks (up to 10 at one time, according to Google!) to come together to explore and learn together. What was exciting about this hangout experience was that it expanded my PLN that has, up to this point been, in a large way twitter based. Now, these tweeting encounters are being enhanced by virtual f2f encounters that deepen the educational experience. And it’s always fun to see the face and hear the voice behind the tweet.

We’re in the midst of a process of learning and development. As we all know, technology has the tendency of not working at the most inopportune time. At a hangout I facilitated last week we found ourselves gazing at each other while using the phone - one of our participants had microphone issues. But you know, that’s okay. Let’s call it growing pains.

For the past few years there has been a lively discussion about the nature of community in the 21^st century. What does it mean to be part of a group of people who may never physically meet? What are the ramifications of non-f2f encounters that take place in the cloud? Paradoxically, as social networks evolve and expand, (like galaxies moving through space), we individuals are drawing closer. The technology that expands our worlds is becoming the very tool that brings us together.

Boom.

Steve Jobs, the Consumer, and Inventing the Jewish Future

2011-10-10T13:45:00.000-07:00

Of all the recent retrospectives of the late Steve Jobs, the one that has had the most impact on me contained the observation that he “hated traditional market research”. It was a comment made by one of the guests (advertising consultant, Cindy Gallup) on the public radio show “The Take Away” on Friday, October 7. You could hear the entire recording here. Mr. Jobs believed that successful marketing and production must be customer centered, but that consumers don’t really know what they want. He believed in what Alan Kay once said: “The best way to predict the future is to invent it.” According to author Steven Johnson, also on the same show, Jobs understood that a product’s design incorporated usability. It isn’t just what the product looks like; it’s how it can be used by the consumer. Jobs’ genius according to Johnson, was that he believed that when designing a product, “the totality of the experience of using the product” must be part of that design process. So what do we, as Jewish educators and innovators take from this?

The iPod was created to fill a vacuum. Its creators saw what was trending in the business of music: (napster and clunky mp3 players) and created something new, thereby creating demand and changing the way we listen to and buy music. This is the paradigm that could work for Jewish education.

When we design a Jewish experience, we need to remember that there is a delicate balance between the goals we set as educators for our constituents, and their desires and needs. Franz Rosenzweig was right when he taught us that the periphery leads us to the center. Whatever Jewish experiences we develop, they must relate to where our students and families are today. It can’t just look cool. They need to be practical, useful and accessible. But therein lies the dilemma. Do we, as Jewish leaders, design experiences that we believe will serve the purpose of (and forgive me for using this phrase but it actually is apt) Jewish continuity, or do we develop models that may, in the short run, seem appealing, but in the end, add nothing to creating a Jewish future? Another way of asking this question is: Do we want to fill a vacuum (like the iPod did) or do we want to enhance the already existing empty space of ideas that lead nowhere?

Following Steve Jobs lead, what we design must be multifaceted, and informed, though not determined by conventional wisdom. Just because an idea is popular doesn’t make it The Truth or The Answer. We are on a narrow bridge, and need to make sure that we don’t fall off into the chasm of irrelevance. The subtlety is following the teachings of Steve Jobs in creating a synergy between what we design, how it works and our roles as leaders.

So we need to pay attention to what’s trending in our congregations and communities. Parents are busy. Kids are overwhelmed. There is a drive to create models of juvenile Jewish education that can fit into our overscheduled families’ lives. The question is….will these experiments really lead to a Jewish tomorrow? Is “fitting in” enough?

Collaboration, construction of knowledge and finding personal meaning are all guidelines that need to shape what type of Jewish experiences we design. We need to master the tools available to us in the 21^st century, both digital and experiential to make Jewish life to enhance the usability of the “product” we design. The role of a Jewish professional is to learn from conventional wisdom and then apply knowledge and experience to invent a new future.

Of Quills, iPads and the New York Times

2011-09-06T05:33:00.000-07:00

The other day I opened up my print copy of the New York Times (yes, I still rely on that ancient form of technology: The printed newspaper.) I couldn’t help but notice the article on the front page, above the fold: Grading the Digital School: In Classroom of Future, Stagnant Scores. The piece described how the drive to digitize classrooms has not led to improved student scores, as measured by current standardized tests. Its perspective, in part, mostly challenged the prevailing philosophy that educational technology will result in increased student achievement. As I read it, I couldn’t help but think that all this is beside the point.

It isn’t that using iPads and Google Docs will necessarily make our students smarter. For better or worse, we live in an increasingly electronic world. The screen of tomorrow will define how we will interface with our environment; just as ink and paper defined how previous generations interacted with their universe. What we as educators need to do is grasp how the ubiquity of digital technology is shaping the way our students learn how to live in their future. We need to redefine our paradigms and expectations so that we can help them be prepared for tomorrow.

Indulge me as I look backwards: This is something I wrote nine months ago:

Technology is not meant to be the end, but to be the means. Technology is a tool to engage our students. Web 2.0 has introduced us to new ways of creating and defining community. Just as the chalk board created new ways to create relationships between the student and the teacher and the nature of education itself, the digital universe we are entering is opening up new doors that will lead to a different learning and teaching reality. It is incumbent upon us to grasp this new type of chalk, and start writing on the virtual chalk board.

I wrote the above words as part of a homework assignment for my just completed education technology certificate course. I called this, at the time, my edtech “mission statement”. I still believe it. My understanding of the ramifications of using education technology in the Jewish classroom has deepened as I’ve learned how these tools can be used. More importantly, I believe more than ever that ultimately all of these programs and applications are merely aides to help us achieve a final goal – creating a Jewish future.

Yes we have no choice but to embrace this digital universe - but not blindly. We need to be critical consumers, analyzing whether this gadget or that program will serve our needs. Will using a smartphone help our students learn to chant Torah? How? Will creating a VoiceThread effectively teach our students what the Amida is all about? What would be a more effective way to learn about midrash: Through bibliodrama or Animoto? We need to define our goals, and then determine the best way to reach them.

Yes, I believe now, more than ever, that 21st century technology is a means to an end. But I also am mindful that the words of Torah are written on animal skin using a bird’s feather and ink made of gallnuts. They can be just as meaningful on that ancient form of technology as they are on my iPad screen. It doesn’t matter how I let those words touch me; its that they do. And that’s the point.

Variable Rates of Change

2011-07-11T09:45:00.000-07:00

“A little rebellion now and then is a good thing”. This little piece of wisdom was uttered by Thomas Jefferson in 1787. What does this have to do with Jewish education and social networks? Everything.

At the ISTE (International Society for Technology in Education) conference I was immersed in a sea of digital technology. I attended classes and window shopped at the technology expo – an open market filled with vendors selling their wares, both hard and soft. At one of the classes I attended, educator and author Dr. David Thornburg explained how we are in the midst of a revolution that is changing the social and cultural matrices that define our society. He described how we are living in the third of a series of “disruptive technologies” that have shaped learning and teaching. The first took place thousands of years ago, with the invention of the phonetic alphabet. In the 16th century the world was changed through the introduction of mass-produced books. The current “mobile revolution” is impacting the way our students (who will become the adults/parents/consumers of the future) look and interface with the world. He stressed that we educators need to recognize the new “21st Century Literacies” of our age. Another presenter, Lee Crockett, author, artist, and co-founder of the 21st Century Fluency Project, had his own criteria, which he not surprisingly called, “21st Century Fluencies”. Both lists are more or less similar. These intertwined concepts can be roughly called survival skills for the future. They define how our students view their world, and how those perspectives will shape what that universe will look like. They include the ability to:

critically assess content and resource
prioritize between a myriad of stimuli
participate and collaborate
seamlessly integrate the different types of digital and social networks and media
engage in creative problem solving.

All these proficiencies are expressed within the context of living as global digital citizens.

The kids in our schools respond to a learning environment that is characterized by being relevant to their interests. A structure has to be in place that provides the opportunity for students to create something that is their own. It also has to be authentic - touching upon their real lives. Learning happens when what is being presented matters to the student. If the kids don’t care, they won’t learn. So we as educators need to foster a process of discovery that sticks to their souls. To accomplish this, we must bring our school parents into the picture. We need to encourage them to participate and collaborate with their children to create a truly personal sense of Jewish engagement. Our educational goals should relate to our families’ lives. Lee Crockett put it best when he said that learning in the 21st century is not about the teacher - it’s about the learner. Our families need to care about being Jewish. They need to be engaged in creating a Judaism that belongs to them.

So now we get to tachlis. How do we translate theory into practice? Our students (youngsters and their parents) need to be comfortable with the idea that God can be found at the beach, in their neighbor’s house, on facebook, Google +, as well as in the synagogue sanctuary. Teaching for tomorrow is defined as the art of curation and facilitation. Creating environments for self discovery, informed by our 4,000-year-old tradition as translated by Second Life and Apple, are the new roles for Jewish educators. There are no concrete answers and “how-to’s” to offer, because tomorrow someone may invent a new app “that does that” (whatever “that” may be). That’s the point. Change is constant. It’s the rate that is variable. That’s the paradigm for Jewish education today: Adapting and designing for Jewish engagement that is consistent with this rate of change. Let’s learn from Yochanan Ben Zakai, who was carried out in a coffin beginning the process that led to the writing down of the Oral Law, adapting Jewish life to a new post-Temple future. It’s no longer a question of what Judaism will look like next week. It’s what we, as educators, will do to make that change meaningful.

Disruption has always been the Jewish norm. Rebellion to the Jewish status quo should not be a surprise or anathema. It’s what we learn from it that is important. This is the challenge that will define our future.

Finding Dragons in the Clouds

2011-06-28T22:14:00.000-07:00

I remember, as a kid, lying on my back on the side of hill looking at the sky, finding a dragon, George Washington and a tree floating amidst the white, billowing clouds. I'm going to bet that most of us have had similar experiences, finding disparate symbols in the mist that resides in the sky. Clouds are made up of water vapor, much of which has previously fallen near or to earth and then evaporates. They are self-renewing. But I think they stand for something else: The infinite reaches of nature. For me a cloud summons Heschel's idea of radical amazement. So attending ISTE 2011 I find myself being amazed and amazed again. Not at the works of nature or God, (unless we believe that the Deity's Hand is in everything) but at the efforts of Woman and Man. It's not so much that I am blown away by the latest animation software or iteration of optical touch screens. I am. It's that we are not done yet. We are still Primitives. Next year at ISTE there will be new technology. New applications. What is innovative today will be passé next summer. But that really doesn't matter. What's important for me, at least, is what these works of humanity represent. It's the symbolism that I'm writing about.

I have a confession to make. In the middle of the day today I escaped the world of apps and androids. I needed fresh air. I also had a pilgrimage to make. You see, I’ve never seen the Liberty Bell in real life. It’s always been a part of every American’s life. For my family and me, all being immigrants from the “old country”, it took on special significance, as my parents had chosen the freedom of America that The Bell represented. So I figured that I’d take a couple of hours to visit this symbol of liberty for which my parents risked their (and my) lives to reach.

Symbols are something conceived by humans to represent something greater. Our Jewish tradition is full of them: the Chanukiah, challah, the mezuzah, and tallit to name a few. The Liberty Bell is an example of one of the icons of American secular religion. I was surprised by my reaction as I stood before this flawed chunk of metal. I was truly in Awe.

As I gazed upon the cracked and silent bell, I realized that it’s message of liberty (an idea that was associated to the bell 100 years after its casting to protest the abomination of slavery) transcended its physicality. The Bell represents something greater than itself. It is a symbol that bridges the past with the future.

What does this have to do with Google, Second Life, and wireless document cameras? These amazing constructs that astound us at their power are but transient symbols and signposts pointing to tomorrow. One of the sessions I attended focused on virtual games and simulations. The instructor (Dr. Greg Jones) pointed out that there is no definitive research that shows that using gaming and sims in the classroom results in higher student achievement. They are short lived. Tomorrow there will be something new. Dr. John Medina, the keynote speaker on Sunday also said that it is still to early to judge the long-term impact of digital technology on the brain. The ISTE conference and the drive to integrate education technology in our classrooms is not The Answer. It is a symbol for a direction that we are choosing to travel. It is representing a new way to interact with our environment, what we have learned, and what we will learn.

In the Jewish world, we are also travelling this evolutionary path. We are used to it. We started out with Oral Law. Then we wrote it down. Then we interpreted it…again and again. That’s what the Responsa and commentary are all about. We’re still doing it. Storahtelling. Media Midrash. Bible Raps. G-dcast.com. Jewish Education Network. YU 2.0. There’s more. Things I don’t know about and things we haven’t yet thought of. And before all that I am…Amazed.

Clouds represent the infiniteness of nature, and if you will, the Holy as It interacts with the physical world. The cloud that we are creating represents human potential. Just like the Liberty Bell. The cloud we are crafting does not reside in the sky. Lo BaShamayim Hee. It resides in us, in our hearts. Clouds flit across the sky, ever-changing. The electronic cloud we are creating also doesn’t stand still. We shape its form and direction. We must remember that we are in the midst of an ever-changing process that defines intellectual and technological development. This also applies to how Jewish learning accommodates and adapts to contemporary reality. If we want a definition of Jewish survival, I think that’s it: We never stand still. We change our shape and form, but we won’t dissipate into nothing. We adapt and renew, taking on new forms. Just like clouds.

Before I forget, here's a picture of the Liberty Bell. Can you find the crack?

Lessons Learned in the Cloud...So Far

2011-06-27T20:06:00.000-07:00

My head is spinning. My first 36 hours at the ISTE 2011 conference have left me intellectually exhausted. And my feet hurt. I need to tell you that the Philadelphia Convention Center is BIG. Really. So what have I learned that I can share with you? Well, let’s frame it in this context: What are my “takeaways” after one full day at the largest educational technology conference in the world? Here’s a random and partial list:

1) The conference keynote speaker was Dr. John Medina, author of the New York Times Bestseller, Brain Rules: 12 Principles for Surviving and Thriving at Work, Home, and School. Dr. Medina, a molecular biologist at the University of Washington School of Medicine revealed that every person’s brain responds to the environment in its own unpredictable and unique fashion. If there is one generalization that can be made about the human brain, it’s that "it is designed to solve problems related to survival in unstable meteorological settings while in constant motion". According to Dr. Medina, the best way to learn is in a setting that is characterized by “aerobic exercise punctuated by islands of learning”. In other words, the classrooms in which we place our children, and the offices in which we find ourselves are incompatible with our biology. The implications are that when it comes to learning, there is no one-size-fits all. Brain research is the proof text.

2) Learning is quickly leaving the realm of the traditional classroom, and is entering an augmented, virtual reality. Mobile technology, such as QR codes, smart phones, and iPads, will soon be mainstream tools in the classroom. We’re talking within a matter of a few years, according to the Horizon Report: 2011 edition, an authoritative annual publication focusing on the future of education.

3) On another note, it seems that Google is striving to become the proprietor of all human knowledge. I couldn’t believe how many applications can be found with the name Google associated with it: Plan your next vacation with Google City Tours; explore the human body with Google Body; investigate the science behind a bottle stopper at Google Patents; read the front page of your favorite magazine or news paper at Google Fast Flip.

I could go on. I won’t because there is so much more. I think the main thing I’ve taken away so far is that many of the assumptions that we have held about the nature of knowledge, learning and teaching are being revisited and rendered, in some cases, irrelevant. It’s almost like we need to start over and rebuild what we think we know when it comes to teaching our kids. Knowledge no longer resides only in books or in the minds of great teachers. We can find it anywhere, and anytime we want.

What is great is that when it comes to the future of Jewish education, I’m going to be an optimist. There are many Jewish educators here. Some are associated with Dayschools, others with what’s called part-time or complimentary Jewish education: congregational schools, after-school programs and informal education. We are all here to learn, with our general and secular education colleagues, how to build a better future for all of our students. It is an exciting time. There is hope for a Jewish future.

Oh, and there is one more thing I’ve taken away. Hand luggage isn’t always hand luggage. Don’t plan on a quick getaway from the airport by meticulously packing all of your belongings in a small carry-on. The flights attendants may decide that there is no room for your small bag. Then Murphy’s Law will come into play: Your hand luggage will be the last piece to arrive.

Maybe some things will never change.

Flying Into the Cloud

2011-06-26T08:10:00.000-07:00

There’s something about airports. I find them exciting. For me I think they represent travelling into the unknown. I mean I know that I’m flying to Philadelphia to participate in the ISTE11 (International Society for Technology in Education) conference, but I’m not exactly certain what to expect. That’s a thrilling prospect. What I understand is that thousands (according to one description I’ve read, 20000) educators and participants will be there. Wow!

Thanks to PELIE (Partnership for Effective Learning and Innovative Education) I’m going to have the opportunity to explore ways that Jewish education can be transformed, through the use of digital and cloud based learning experiences. My pedagogical toolbox will be restocked and refitted. These new implements of learning and teaching can be means that will certainly enhance the way we engage our students. Just as the radio and television revolutionized what went on in the classroom in the last century, Google Docs, edmodo and mobile technology can transform learning tomorrow.

Of course, I’m going with a specific goal – exploring how edtech can be integrated into the Jewish classroom. Just as secular education suffers from budget constraints, Jewish education (especially complimentary Jewish education) also is impacted by a deficit in financial support from synagogues, federations and national organizations. My hope is to explore how we can overcome monetary limitations and create vibrant Jewish educational experiences with the technology we already have, while advocating for increased investment.

For the next few days I’ll be blogging here about my experiences. If you are interested in learning more about this conference from a Jewish perspective, follow on twitter at #pelietech, #jed21 and #avichaifdn. For general info about the conference, follow #iste11.

Onward and Upward!

Challenging Conventional Wisdom

2011-06-23T06:12:00.000-07:00

One of the blogs I follow is Jewschool.com– a site that presents fascinating, and at times challenging, perspectives of the current and future state of Judaism. I just read this piece by Dan Ab questioning conventional wisdom and the view that Day School education is the primary Jewish educational tool. The writer reiterates the point I have made elsewhere: That the majority of children receiving any type of Jewish education DO NOT attend Day Schools. He reminds us all that we must devote our efforts to a broad based and pluralistic approach that validates and supports the various forms of formal and informal Jewish educational experiences. I’m posting this piece as a reminder that as important as Day School education is, it isn’t the ONLY answer or option. There are many keys that will open the door for our children that will lead to future Jewish engagement. We must not put our proverbial eggs all in one basket. (Note: I’m cross-posting most of the piece. You can go here to read it in its entirety. I did not include the original last paragraph.)

Taking from the poor to pay for day schools is not the way to improve Jewish education

A recent article in the Forward, by Jerome A. Chanes, discusses the perennial issue of why we must focus our Jewish education efforts on day schools and how to make them affordable. “The system, at least with respect to the most prominent prescription for the [Jewish] future — education — is broken. Jewish parents find themselves increasingly caught between rising day school tuitions and declining real-dollar income. Teachers’ salaries in many Jewish day schools are disgraceful. And because in tough economic times, schools cannot afford to alienate anyone, day schools are increasingly parent-driven — not necessarily a good thing. Add to these a rather flaccid commitment on the part of federations to Jewish education. The system is collapsing.” He worries that, “The Hebrew-based charter school represents a further erosion of the classic text-based Jewish curriculum… The charter schools take this erosion to a new, dangerous, level by separating Hebrew learning from Judaism completely.” He concludes that charter schools are a distraction and only reallocation of more Federation funds towards day schools will fix the broken system.

Dr. Chanes put forth an almost identical solution in a 2009 article for The NY Jewish Week . He hadn’t happened upon the Charter school bogeyman yet, but he did detail which priorities federations need to shift. He urges that federations spend more money subsidizing day school tuition and less money on gyms, immigrant aid, child care for those in need, and poverty programs. He rationalizes this by noting most of the poverty related federation programs spend a lot of money on non-Jews, and, “most analysts agree that Jewish poverty is, in 2009, not the pressing issue for the community.”

Dr. Chanes is not the only opinionator preaching the doom of Jewish peoplehood that can only be avoided if we massively increase donations to day schools. I’m highlighting him because he’s one of the only ones brave enough – at least in 2009 – to say what charitable causes he considers less important than day schools. I (and a few millennia of Jewish ethical principles) might differ with his funding priorities. It’s also questionable if the UJA-Federation of NY, with annual grants of $167 million is even big enough to meaningfully subsidize the 93,000 day school children just in NYC. I’m also doubtful federations would receive their current levels of donations if they followed his suggestions. Still, I give Dr. Chanes credit for being willing to propose where the money should come from.

My bigger concern is that the basic solution for improving Jewish education woes through massive increases in subsidies to day schools, proposed by Dr. Chanes and others, ignores the greater problem we face in giving the next generation the education they need to live Jewish lives. In discussing the importance of day schools in The NY Jewish Week, Chanes notes that almost 30% of Jewish children in the NY area study in a day school or yeshiva. Even taking that number at face value, in the US region with probably the greatest proportion of Jewish day school attendees, over 70% of Jewish children don’t attend them! Many don’t receive any formal Jewish education. And there’s no evidence that any remotely realistic reallocation of Jewish philanthropy towards day school tuition subsidies will shift these percentages by a useful amount. For example, a 2001 report from the AVI CHAI Foundation by Jack Wertheimer notes that, assuming a $10,000 cost per student, it would require an extra $1 billion a year to support a 50% increase US day school enrollment. An article in the Forward this week—in the very same issue as Dr. Chanes’ article—details how a $65 million effort by the Partnership for Excellence in Jewish Education has helped created new day schools and improved quality, but did little to increase the total number of children actually attending.

Many day schools provide a quality secular education paired with more hours devoted to Judaics than any other option. The children who attend them are given the skills, and frequently the desire, to be vital and active members of our communities. Day schools have unquestionably earned the Jewish community’s intellectual and financial support. However, a narrow focus on supporting day schools as the primary means to educate future Jews shortchanges the educational needs of the vast majority of Jewish children.

We need to find ways to bring more children into formal Jewish education, starting at young ages. We need to work together to improve the quality of Jewish education for children in all forms of educational programs. We need to innovate, document, and evaluate new models of Jewish education to increase the quality and content of Jewish education for children inside and outside day schools.

New models like Hebrew language charter schools paired with afterschool education in Judaics (Dr. Chanes seems to have forgotten to mention the afterschool Judaics component in his Forward article), might be a good fit for some families and communities, but not others. Programs like Kesher and Edah are trying to take the daily afterschool hours, when many families need childcare, and use them for Jewish education. I’m part of an effort to set up a similar program, currently called WMAJA, on the Maryland/ D.C. border. I described my vision in a bit more detail in an article for CJ Magazine. These afterschool programs won’t be the right fit for every Jewish family, but they do have the advantage of being mostly self-supporting (after the start-up years), and they can give children who aren’t in day schools – for a variety of reasons – more Jewish education than they’re currently getting.

Genesis Redux

2011-06-10T05:41:00.000-07:00

“The medium, or process, of our time – electric technology – is reshaping and restructuring patterns of social interdependence and every aspect of our personal life...Everything is changing…Societies have always been shaped more by the nature of the media by which men [sic] communicate than by the content of the communications.” (Marshall McLuhan)

These prescient words were written by Marshall McLuhan in his ironically entitled book The Medium is the Massage in 1967. The volume was an accessible explanation of his earlier (and denser) work. His premise, ergo the title, was that:

“All media work us over completely. They are so pervasive…that they leave no part of us untouched, unaffected, unaltered. The medium is the massage. Any understanding of social and cultural change is impossible without a knowledge of the way media work as environments.”

Facebook has changed the world. It’s not so much WHAT’S said on this social network. It’s how it is said. It is the way we make ourselves known. We declaim. We share private moments. We express our opinions without regard of who reads our words. Being a friend is now a verb and relates to people who, in the past, we would have ordinarily forgotten. We publically open ourselves up to the world. The public square, once the center of town, is no longer a place where we need to physically gather to find out “what’s happening”. It is nowhere and everywhere. It is the global, virtual, social network. The soapboxes upon which we stand are plugged into an available power outlet.

So what do we do about this? Embrace it.

If what we say becomes, as McLuhan wrote, shaped by how we express it, then we need to understand the social networking environment. Notions of privacy are being thrown out, and replaced by new norms. The nature of public discourse is being redefined. The way our students conduct themselves in both the physical and virtual universes has been shaped by digital life and will translate into modes of behavior and learning in the classroom. The way we teach must reflect the way our students interact with their environment. We, the instructors, are just one facet of that educational milieu. Rather than bemoan the accouterments of social networking, it is incumbent upon us to truly understand the ramifications of these new definitions and modes of behavior and direct our energies towards accommodating what we do, as teachers and educators, to these new realities.

Socrates, in Plato’s Phaedrus, bemoans the state of humanity, blaming its inevitable demise on the invention of those insidious new technologies, the alphabet and writing. He claims that this new fangled idea of writing things down will result in the destruction of memory. How far have we gone! Technology shapes the way we experience the world. McLuhan wrote:

“The wheel is an extension of the foot; the book is an extension of the eye…clothing, an extension of the skin…electric circuitry, an extension of the central nervous system. Media, by altering the environment, evoke in us unique ratios of sense perceptions. The extension of any one sense alters the way we think and act – the way we perceive the world. When these ratios change, men [sic] change.”

Social media has led us to new ways to interact with the world and with each other. Maybe this is the next step in human evolution.

And it was evening, and it was morning, the next day.

Tomorrow! Tomorrow! I Love Ya Tomorrow!

2011-05-31T15:42:00.000-07:00

I had a conversation with a Rabbi recently. He was upset because a cantorial colleague of his had decided to strike out on her own, performing “destination B’nai Mitzvah”, divorcing herself from synagogue life, and setting up private Hebrew schools in community club-houses. He fretted that this is antithetical to the idea of community and affiliation. He felt that to be a true part of the Jewish community, one needed to belong to a synagogue. He continued, pointing out that he knows that times are changing, but he is concerned that the future of Judaism “may bear no resemblance to the Judaism that we are familiar with.” I looked at him, paused, smiled, and said, “I certainly hope so.”

At the recent Judaism 2030 conference, Jonathan Woocher, Chief Ideas Officer of JESNA, asked participants to share their visions for Judaism in the year 2030. I always get nervous about future oriented questions like that. A lot can happen in the next 19 years. In the past, the face of Judaism has unpredictably and unalterably been transformed in shorter spans of time. Yes we need to keep our eyes on the target of long term goals. For me I guess I’d want to see inclusive, engaged and vibrant Jewish communities both in and outside of Israel. But I also think we need to be very careful that in our rush to embrace our visions, we don’t ignore the realities of what our students need today. After all, what will be is built on what is. At a recent NATE webinar on the “History of Identity and Technology” facilitated by Ari Kelman, this very theme was brought up. By engaging our students in the process of creating their own Jewish knowledge databank today, we can shape how their Jewish practice might look in 2 decades.

The reality in America today is that we are in the midst of an era in which supply side economic theory is victorious and has trickled down to what we do as Jewish educators. It’s become all about lowering “regulatory” barriers that prevent individual expression. No longer does the synagogue determine what it means to be Jewish. Parents and kids are searching for ways to engage in Judaism on their own terms - a free market mentality. The Judaism of tomorrow will be very different from what we, our parents, and grandparents are familiar with. It will be shaped by what we do today.

There is no one answer, one tool, one technology that can prepare us for this mission. There are many answers: learning via camp-like experiences, digital platforms, family programming, Day schools, Hebrew charter schools, even old-fashioned congregational schools. These are what we are familiar with now. I expect that more approaches that we haven’t thought of yet will arise. All we do know is that we must be open to the idea of choice. Rather then reject we must be prepared to embrace. We educators must be given the resources to retool and re-envision our profession.

“Teaching” as a concept is undergoing a metamorphosis, reflective of new modes of learning that are embedded in what Eisen and Cohen called “the Sovereign Self”. We need to reconcile ourselves to this today. If we don’t adjust how we “teach” and “lead”, we’ll render ourselves obsolete.

Answers to Open the Door

2011-04-21T05:18:00.000-07:00

Pesach is a time for questions.

So, in the spirit of the season, I would like to ask you some. I’ll start with one: How do Jewish educators learn to use 21st century educational technology in the Jewish classroom? This will lead to a few more. What follows is a survey with 15 questions (an auspicious number for Pesach). The goal of this short (5-8 minutes) questionnaire is to find some answers to the question of how and what we learn.

My friend and colleague Barry Gruber recently posted a piece about the smorgasbord of opportunities to learn what the ‘net provides. He’s right – it truly is a blessing. I wonder if this cornucopia is so bountiful that there will be many who, like the 4^th child, will be so intimidated by all the resources available that they will be daunted by the act of beginning to learn. They won’t know where to start. They won’t know what to ask. If this is the case, what should we do about it?

Ergo the survey. This is an independent project to explore the nature of on-line Jewish professional development related to the utilization of educational technology. It’s focus is to find out how we Jewish educators learn about these new tools, where we learn from, and if we need to make these learning opportunities more accessible. I'm hoping that this information will help shape the way Jewish educators can easily learn more about the use of digital tools in their classrooms.

Teaching is leading. We educators create an environment for our students to construct their knowledge base. The tools that are being developed today and tomorrow empower us to achieve this goal. The complicated part is that we need to learn how to use them. There’s the rub. What’s the best way for the educators, who can’t go to conferences or don’t have local resources provided by central agencies, to learn how to take the next step into the world of digital Jewish learning?

Questions. There are many. And the answers may lead us to an understanding of what we can do to build a solid base of Jewish educators who can comfortably engage their students, speaking a common language. This is why I’m asking you all to take part in this adventure.

I must thank Jonathan Woocher and Rebecca Leshin of the Lippman Kanfer Institute for supporting this project and providing the platform to make it possible. I also want to acknowledge the many educators in the Jewish cloud who have contributed ideas to help create this survey. There are too many to mention by name, but I do want to thank you all for you assistance.

So please click here to access this professional development survey. Answers can be signposts leading us in the direction of creating Jewish futures for our students. We just need to start with the questions. Together let’s find the answers.

Stepping Through the Door Together - Now's the Time

2011-03-09T04:21:00.000-08:00

“I’m late, I’m late, for a very important date!” I feel like the white rabbit. You know, rushing hither and yon, trying to figure out how to get where I need to go without being too distracted by all the tweets, network posts, and blogs I follow; not to mention the old technologies like the printed word and emails. There is so much information available to us. If I miss a day of twitter, I feel it’s a catastrophe.

I’m not a technical neophyte. I sort of know what’s going on. Can you imagine being someone who has never tweeted, doesn’t know what a wiki is, thinks a glog is a type of fruit, and is trying to just stay afloat in this ever changing new world, let alone explore the Jewish educational cloud? There are so many resources and new technologies that appear daily. It’s easy to be intimidated. There are probably fantastic teachers in the front lines who are so afraid of trying to figure this stuff out that they retreat into their old tried but true habits, becoming increasingly irrelevant in the classroom. I know that there are folks who left both the JEA and NATE conferences with a sense of despair at not knowing how to proceed. Those who were unable to attend either conference are even more lost. I believe that the time has come for us to help our teachers, especially those working in congregational/supplemental schools, break out of their shells to find a new comfort level in tomorrow.

We can lower the level of stress associated with learning new edtech skills by creating an accessible portal through which our teachers will learn to use the tools they need to move forward. We are all searching for scrapes of knowledge wherever we can find them. There’s too much out there that’s spread all over the place. We no longer have the one conference a year where we all came together to learn. Now's the time to get organized again!

This is what I propose: Let's create a new trans-denominational platform for Jewish educators of all flavors to gather virtually or, if practical and affordable, f2f to explore the possibilities that tomorrow presents. This collaborative cloud-based venue would be a forum that would promote dialogue, teaching and learning. It would be a consortium of all professional development providers that would “push” the opportunities to learn to us all. I’m talking one-stop-shopping - a mall for Jewish education. It would be one venue that would offer educators and knowledge seekers ALL the opportunities and resources to enhance the field of Jewish education: A 21^st century virtual Pumbadita, if you will - an on-line center for Jewish learning that would be comprehensive, all inclusive and easy to access.

This idea will be made real as a result of cooperation and collaboration between all Jewish education service providers, both those affiliated with a movement, like NATE and the JEA, as well as others like JESNA and PELIE. We all need to work together. We need to move forward now.

I’ve started to have conversations about this vision with individuals affiliated with different groups and organizations. People are interested in seeing this come to fruition. I believe it is now the appropriate moment to widen the circle and have an expanded group of those who care about the future of Jewish education come together and brainstorm how to make a new Jewish Professional Learning Network happen. Dr. Jonathan Woocher, the Chief Ideas Officer and Director of the Lippman Kanfer Institute, has indicated that he is happy to host such a web meeting.

This is a concrete call to action. If you are interested in joining in the conversation and taking part in a virtual brainstorming session, email me, Peter Eckstein at terrapin@mindspring.com

If not now, when?

Swimming to 31°47'N, 35°12'E - A Shabbat Homework Assignment

2011-03-04T05:02:00.000-08:00

Howard Schwartz is a storyteller, a folklorist, a scholar, and a poet. He's collected many Jewish stories, my favorites being found in Lilith's Cave: Jewish Tales of the Supernatural, Elijah's Violin & Other Jewish Fairy Tales and Tree of Souls: The Mythology of Judaism.

He has a new collection of poems out: Breathing in the Dark. This is a sample (which is also posted on the publisher's website cited above. You can buy the book there.) I love it because I feel like I am always on a quest. I'm also searching for my Jerusalem. I thought I'd share this as a Shabbat gift to you all.

It's also a Shabbat homework assignment. Where is your Jerusalem? Can you always find it at 31°47'N, 35°12'E? Shabbat Shalom.

The first time
I went on a quest
for forbidden fruit.

The second time
I built an ark
and tried to get there by sea.

The third time
I came in search of my ancestor,
Abraham.

If the sun was hidden
I let the stars
guide me.

If the tablets were broken
I carved
new ones.

In the future
my bones
will roll to that city.

Last night
I dreamed
I was swimming there.

If Not Now, When - Blurring the Lines for the Future of Jewish Education

2011-02-14T19:13:00.000-08:00

The dust is settling after the January JEA and NATE conferences. Synagogue educators of all stripes and flavors are returning to our old haunts: Congregations and real life. A taste of what is possible still remains in our mouths, though. We need to ask: How do we keep the spirit that we felt in Mt. Laurel and Seattle, alive? How do we move forward? What’s next?

Now is the time for us to translate what we started to learn last month into our everyday routines. What this means, IMHO, is that we need to work harder to create our own Professional Learning Network (PLN). We have learned that we don’t have to be in the same room/city/state/continent to learn from each other. We have learned the real strength of social networks like Facebook and Twitter. Now we need to take the next step and get involved in these networks, learning from each other and building something brand new.

The laboratory that was NATE or JEA was great: A controlled environment where the best of the brave new world could be displayed in all its cyber glory, pointing a way to what could be. But we all know that when we’re on our own in our offices back home, life has the annoying habit of happening: Distracting us with emergent issues like the kid and her mom who goes to soccer practice instead of the B’nai Mitzvah family program; the teacher who can’t get it together enough to turn in a legible lesson plan, let alone any; the board member who doesn’t understand why religious school teachers should be paid a reasonable wage. We all face these issues daily. We must not let them get in the way of our moving forward to build a vibrant edifice that IS the Jewish future. We can’t let the mundane get in the way of the sacred: L’mavdil ben kodesh l’hol.

Let it be proclaimed through all the lands and Second Life: The tools we need to learn how to construct tomorrow’s educational systems are available in the cloud, from teachers and thinkers at #jed21, from networks, sites and blogs like the Jewish Education Change Network, YU2.0, Welcome to the Next Level, The jewish-education Daily and many many more. They are a mere mouse click away.

Yes, these resources are there to teach us, but what we need to do is to organize, to work together, regardless of affiliation or movement. This is my Unified Field Theory for Jewish Education: One “place” where we can all “meet” and discuss and build. Rather than the disparate links that can become overwhelming to us and especially to those who didn’t attend either conference, we should create a clearinghouse that will enable us to learn from each other. We don’t have time in our ridiculously busy days to follow every tweet or blog. I know how traumatic missing 12 hours of tweets can be. We congregational/supplemental/complimentary school educators need to (If I may mangle my friend and colleague Ira Wise’s blog title) get to the Next Level and create one forum that will be OUR Professional Learning Network, irrespective of denomination or movement.

I’m ready to work on this experiment. Anyone want to join me?

And if not now, when?

A Testimony to Jewish Educators

2011-02-08T19:40:00.000-08:00

Robyn Faintich (@Jewishgps and JewishGPS) posted this piece entitled "Todah Rabah to our Educators!"on Davar Acher-On the Other Hand blog on Sunday. In it she celebrates the profession of Jewish educators and their role in building the Jewish future. As a Director of Education in a congregational school, I would like to say Todah Rabah to Robyn for her words. I couldn't have said it better myself.

Todah Rabah to our Educators!

In the world of Jewish education, the people who run our synagogue religious schools are often the most under-appreciated and under-recognized. We often defer to the role our rabbis and cantors play when reflecting on the Jewish education of our children and certainly the role a child’s Hebrew tutor plays. But behind the scenes running the religious school is a director of education (sometimes known as the principal) who cares about the Jewish journey of the students and their families.

For the last two weeks, I have traveled across the country to participate and present at professional learning conferences designed for these educators. The Conservative movement’s Jewish Educators’ Assembly (JEA) and the Reform movement’s National Association of Temple Educators (NATE) sponsored the two events held in Philadelphia/New Jersey and Seattle respectively.

Collectively, over 450 educators gathered to learn about the challenges and opportunities that technology and social media offer us in education. (Yes, both conferences engaged in the same theme.) While together in their respective conferences, educators took the opportunity to network, collaborate, and engage in meta-level conversations about Jewish education in the 21^st century. If you want a glimpse at all they learned and toiled with, you can check out the twitter feeds for #jea59 and #nateseattle.

I had the opportunity to present at both conferences, which gave me the chance to learn with the participants in a unique way. These educators work hard. They work hard at their own learning. I only wish their students and the parents could see them hard at work. I wish they saw the role modeling in life-long learning these school leaders engage in. In addition to the core education components, each of the conferences included aspects of Torah L’shma (text study for the sake of study), offered t’filah, and community-building activities. A perfect dugmah (example) of what our synagogues are trying to offer the student learners. From sun-up at 8 a.m. until way past sun-down (sometimes after 11 p.m.) these educators gave 1000% of themselves for the sake of their own learning, for the sake of being better so that they can serve our people better.

These educators don’t make a fortune; they don’t do the work because of the first-class perks they get, or the year-end bonuses. They do this work because it is a true passion for each and every one of them. So the next time you wonder through the halls of your synagogue, take time to peak your head into the office of the education director, and just thank him/her for dedicating themselves to this sacred work.

From Sinai to Cyberspace, Pt. 2: Thawing out

2011-01-26T15:39:00.000-08:00

As I reflect on the Jewish Educators Assembly conference that just ended, the lyrics of an old song pops into my head: “There’s something happening here. What it is ain’t exactly clear.” It’s not that we’re clueless when it comes to us knowing what Jewish education will look like in the future; it’s just that we’re not sure in what direction we’ll be traveling.

So…maybe we are a little clueless after all.

Let me back up for a moment. The close to 200 participants at the Conservative movement’s education conference were exposed (many for the first time) to web 2.0 platforms that foster collaboration and have the potential to build community in new ways. For many of those present, the learning curves were steep as questions were posed, such as: “How do I set up a twitter account?” and “What is a Personal Learning Network?” Lisa Colton (@darimonline) presented the challenges facing Jewish professionals as we reach out to a new generation of Jewish parents. Caren Levine (@jlearn20) introduced tools that enhance professional development, all within the context of social media, and opportunities of cloud based collaboration. David Bryfman (@bryfy) stressed the importance of stepping out of our professional and institutional comfort zones as we look at existing structures, re-visioning them through a process of re-prioritization. discovering new opportunities we never dreamed of.

So in this embarrassment of riches with which we were blessed at the JEA, we must ask the hard question: What is truly necessary in our work and for our constituents? And here is where we get to the hard stuff.

Who are our constituents? Parents? Kids? How are Baby Boomers, Gen “Xers” and Millenials different from each other? How do we rise to this challenge of being effective in reaching different generational cultures? How do we cope with the democratization (or is it the rise of the consumer ethic) of knowledge? More than any other time in history, not only do people have a greater exposure and ability to get answers to ALL their questions; they also demand a say in what they want to learn, and when. We seem to be on the cusp of a reordering of the traditional dynamic between parent, teacher and child. Pam Edelman, from Yerusha, presented a model of Jewish education that is sort of a combination between home-schooling and the scouting merit badge program. It exists outside of current institutions, and was born out of young families’ frustration with organized Jewish life today. Is this a fad or a trend? Should we, as Jewish professionals, feel threatened by this new phenomenon, or embrace it?

The new tools that enhance collaborative learning (like Voicethread and Google Docs) and building school communities (such as interactive school websites like Activit-e) reflect the reality that relationships are central to building authentic Jewish lives. What this means is that the digital tools we have available to us today are only means to create a 21st century Klal Yisrael. This idea of unity certainly isn’t new. It’s just that the way to achieve it, is.

Ultimately, the question that underlies all others, in my mind, is what will Jewish communal life look like the day after tomorrow? The idea of Social Networking was ubiquitous at the JEA conference. It’s all about relationships and how technology can be a tool to enhance the growth of community. As others have said before me, it’s not about the tech, it’s about the people.

As I write these words, I’m sitting in the Philadelphia airport waiting for my flight to take off in the driving snow. At the same time, the final keynote address is being given back at the conference. Robyn Faintich (@Jewishgps) is live-tweeting it at #jea59. The speaker, David Bryfman has asked the participants to close their eyes and “think about the future: What COULD Jewish life look like in your imaginary vision. Who are the learners? Where? When?”

Next week the Reform movement's educators are meeting in Seattle for their conference: called "Imagineering Jewish Education for the 21st Century". They too are exploring the frontiers of technology and Jewish education. I can't help but think that we are at a serendipitous moment, when we all are on the same page of Talmud. We all know what needs to be done, we're just trying to figure out how. I believe now is the time for Jewish futurists, educators,and leaders from all movements to come together and explore tomorrow. If I may borrow Jack Wertheimer's imagery, we need to break down the denominational silos and finally collaborate.

We don’t know what next week will look like. Before us are possible paths. In this age of cloud computing, virtual communities, and social networks, we need to take the leap of faith and move forward, not knowing exactly where it will take us, but being confident that by embracing the future, we will ensure a Jewish context for all those who will live in it.

From Sinai to Cyberspace, Pt. 1: Preparing to freeze.

2011-01-23T10:41:00.000-08:00

I'm sitting in a pizza joint in Palm Beach International, waiting for my flight to the frozen tundra of southern New Jersey. Why would I, a 17 year resident of tropical Florida be braving the Arctic cold of the North East? What would have prompted me to purchased a down jacket - my first since the 1970s? There's only one answer: looking for tomorrow, today.

I'm on my way to the Jewish Educators Assembly Conference, called "From Sinai to Cyberspace: Exploring the Impact of Technology on Jewish Education". The Conservative movement (like the Reform next week) is embarking on a journey to investigate the interface between digital learning and Torah. We educators know that something must change. We also know that the process of re-visioning Jewish learning is well on its way. We are in the midst of learning how these Jetson-like tools can work for us today.

I plan on blogging the conference, sharing with you my thoughts, impressions, questions, and maybe even gossip and trivia, if anything pops up. I'll also be tweeting my experiences at #jea59 (as well as #jed21). If you can't be with me, freezing your tuches off, at least you can vicariously experiencing how today we take our steps, virtual and real, into the future.

Building blocks for the future

2010-12-28T15:46:00.000-08:00

I've written a lot over the last year and a half about creating a Jewish tomorrow. Cyd Weissman, Director of Innovation in Congregational Learning at The Jewish Education Project recently posted a piece entitled "inspired by a student: an article about new models" on her blog Cyd Weissman Takes LOMED Challenge. In it she presents eight building blocks that she urges be considered as foundations for new models in congregational school education.

When Cyd speaks, I listen.

In the summer of 2006 I invited her to take part in a think-tank about Jewish education in the 21st century (some of you reading this were there). This was in preparation for the CAJE 32 conference that I chaired in 2007. At that discussion, Cyd taught us that the term "education" is outmoded in the contemporary Jewish context. Learning Judaism is not just something we derive from books: It's living it, incorporating it into our daily routines, being engaged in Jewish life and learning. She introduced us to the idea that what we need to do is to foster an environment that will engage our students, whether they be children, teens, young adults or seniors. The idea of Jewish engagement needs to be the framework within which we create Jewish learning environments.

Since that hot summer Queens day (at St. John's University of all places) in June of 2006, I've looked at my profession differently. It's not that I'm teaching my students something static like trigonometry (my apologies to math teachers, please! I guess that comment is a reflection of how I was taught that subject.) My goal is to teach how to live a life (a halacha if you will) that is defined by simply being Jewish - by "seeing the world through Jewish eyes". Cyd taught me that.

So I present to you what Cyd Weissman calls the "Architecture of Jewish Education" for the future. I think we can learn much from it.

Eight Building Blocks for New Distinctive Architecture

1. Regular engagement of parent/caregiver as well as the child
Parents and families are essential to a child’s life journey according to designers who use this building block. Regular engagement (e.g weekly learning at synagogue, home or other settings, socializing, using daily life as a classroom) of families most often includes a combination of adult and family learning and Jewish living. Engagement includes time for praying, learning, socializing, and action. This building block contrasts with programs that offer additive family programming (e.g. parents attend programs a few times year). Family engagement becomes regularized. The whole family, not just the child is considered the focus of engagement.

2. Learning in real life settings
Emphasis is placed on the lived experience of Judaism. Focus is on doing and being Jewish instead of a classroom experience that teaches about being Jewish. Instead of preparation for a “someday” event, this building block emphasizes the lived experience of doing and being Jewish. Shabbat, holidays, home, and tikkun olam action are examples of the lived experience that becomes central with this building block. While the lived experience is central in this model, most often it is book-ended with pre-learning that enables rich participation and post-learning that enables meaningful reflection.

3. Integrating children’s Jewish learning experience with the larger congregation’s values and practices
Recognizing the influence of a “norming” community, this model situates a child’s experience within the prime activities of the larger congregation. A “norming” community models “what is learned is lived.” It provides a living context for content. This contrasts to models where children’s experience is physically separated from the central activity of the congregation (e.g. in the basement), separated in time (e.g. on times and days where the larger congregation does not gather) and or separated by core activities (e.g. children study content areas, while the larger congregation is deeply engaged in acts of gemilut chasadim).

4. Making connections with the larger community
This building block assumes the benefit of cluster experiences where a child has multiple Jewish experiences in multiple settings over the course of time. This building block recognizes that the congregation is not the only effective way to engage a Jewish child. When applied, this building block links the child’s regularized experience to resources in the community such as summer camp, museums, Israel, and youth organizations. One can imagine a model where learning during the year is linked to visits to Israel and/or camp. Next step models might include year long experiences that are more like being in Israel or camp than in a classroom setting.

5. New Teacher roles and expectations
Just as the traditional classroom model, even if it has engaging activities, will not reach the goals set by the congregations, neither will traditional teaching. Congregations build regular time (e.g. twice a month) for teachers to learn how to create powerful learning aligned to their learner outcomes (e.g. Learners will be on a journey of applying Torah to daily life). Hired staff, teens and adults in the community learn together, and review one another’s practice within their own learning community. They learn from one another to shift teaching practice from a focus on covering material to creating learning that is a) life centered, b) relationship focused, c) makes rich content accessible and d) enables inquiry, reflection and meaning making. When this building block is established, congregations transform the traditional “teacher” role to facilitator, counselor and/or mentor.

6. Relationships among peers and across generations
Peer relationships, teen role models and intergenerational connections are viewed as essential to raising a child. Accordingly, this building block ensures that a child develops relationships with peers, teens, and adults in the larger community. An example is a model that has seniors and teens meeting weekly for Jewish learning and living with children and families. With this building block, children’s experiences are situated in multi-aged havurote (learning partners/groups). Another adaptation of this building block is a model that prepares adults in the community to act as mentors for children and families.

7. Choices for the learner
According to this building block, one Jewish learning plan does not fit all.. The system of Jewish education that emerged in the US in the 1950’s had each congregation offering one model of learning, x number of days and with specific subjects to teach. Now congregations are empowering learners with bolder choices. Families choose programs or learning plans. Or individual learners can shape or choose their method or area of learning. Choice for the learner also impacts the nature of learning where the learner drives inquiry and exploration.

8. Other
Additional building blocks were noted in the first decade models created in NY that were used, but have not yet been widely implemented. An example of this is the use of technology. For example, congregations are recognizing that decoding skills, although important, can be achieved at will online, or through skype with a person.

Next decade designers will create models based on these eight building blocks and ones yet to be articulated. New models will engage young children in ways that they enable them to construct lives of meaning and purpose, because of the deep connections they have made with Judaism and the Jewish people.

Those are blueprints. Let's start building.

Tinkering With Tomorrow

2010-12-07T08:00:00.000-08:00

When I was a kid I loved tinker-toys. I would spend hours constructing skeletal looking and what I thought were futuristic buildings. I never knew what the outcome would be, I didn’t know if what I was building would stand up to the forces of nature or my brother’s kicks, but I had fun. I just built and then decided if what I created was worth the effort. That was then, this is now.

I bring this up as I finish watching the videos from the recently held Jewish Futures Conference that were just posted for all of our viewing pleasure and edification. Go here to watch the presentations yourself. I’m also in the midst of reading a fascinating collection of essays published by the Association for Supervision and Curriculum Development, entitled Curriculum 21: Essential Education for a Changing World, edited by Heidi Hayes Jacobs. The book and the conference videos are serendipitously providing me an opportunity to think about how we, as Jewish educators and futurists can tinker purposefully with a Jewish tomorrow.

What will we want our children, our students, to know when they emerge from their Jewish educational cocoon? What will the Jewish curriculum look like tomorrow? In one of the pieces in Curriculum 21, Jacobs suggests that we ask three guiding questions as we reevaluate curriculum and content in secular education. Let’s consider them within a Jewish context:

1. Within the discipline being reviewed, what content choices are dated and nonessential? In our world of Jewish learning, this question can be considered heretical. Isn’t it all sacred? What isn’t essential? How do we evaluate that? Who makes that judgment call?

2. What choices for topics, issues, problems, themes, and case studies are timely and necessary for our learners within disciplines? What is happening in the Jewish world NOW? How does Jewish practice and interpretation reflect life in the 21^st century? What are the roles of Israel and the Diaspora; of men and women; of interfaith families in Jewish life?

3. Are the interdisciplinary content choices, rich, natural, and rigorous? What does it mean to engage in Jewish life, learning, and spirituality? What are the different ways of creating meaningful Jewish experiences?

Among the winners of the Jewish Futures Competition, a contest for the most “forward looking” Jewish educational thinkers and doers that was featured at the Jewish Futures Conference, we find Charles Schwartz and Russel M. Neiss, the creators of MediaMidrash.org. In their submission to the competition they posited a paradigm for future Jewish engagement resting on four guiding principles:

1. Jewish resources need to be open, discoverable, and accessible. The body of Jewish learning needs to be available to all who seek it - free and non-proprietary.

2. Remixable. Jews need to be provided the tools and opportunity to transform and reinterpret Jewish tradition and life.

3. Jewish education needs to be meaningful and relevant, providing the learner with a context in which to construct a Jewish life that matters.

4. Meaningful Jewish life needs to continue to incorporate a process of community building, recognizing new definitions of affiliation and belonging, both face-to-face and virtual.

The way Jewish knowledge WILL be acquired tomorrow is different than the way it WAS attained yesterday. David Bryfman once wrote about the 19^th century revolution in general education revolving around the new fangled tool called the chalk board. We are in the midst of a similar phenomenon, this time being driven by digital and social technology. Learning is becoming non-linear. It is more and more a social process, driven by demand and developed by a community that is linked in synchronous and a-synchronous environments, both present and remote. For better or worse, education is turning into an even messier affair than it already is. This is what will drive us to answer the questions of what to teach. The structure will be more fluid, transparent and flexible. Stephen Wilmarth writes in Curriculum 21 how education has been a cathedral, an elegant top-down process designed by “wizards and experts”. The future reality can be described as a bazaar, a market place that is noisy and unpredictable, a result of uncontrollable forces. Knowledge will be open to all, redefined and remixed when appropriate so as to become personally and communally meaningful in contexts of yet unimagined social networks, creating new types of communities.

Jonathan Woocher, in his closing remarks at the Jewish Futures Conference notes that there is no one Jewish future. It can’t be pre-determined. There are multiple possibilities. Schwartz and Neiss retell the midrash of Moses visiting Akiva’s classroom of the future, not understanding a word, even though his teaching is the lesson being taught. If we were to step into H.G. Wells’ Time Machine and be transported into a Jewish learning environment of the future, what would we find? Would it be alien to us? Should it be?

Long Distance Runaround: Pondering the CyBar/CyBat Mitzvah

2010-11-24T08:43:00.000-08:00

When I first read this past Sunday’s New York Time’s article on digital B’nai Mitzvah preparation, my first thought was that it was intriguing that this topic would be the lead story in, of all things, the Fashion and Style section. It then occurred to me that the topic’s visibility in the soft news section is a sign of how truly mainstream Judaism has become in American culture. This is what we have been fighting for – to be accepted in secular society. We have done such a good job that a central Jewish-American ritual has become a subject of pop culture. Like all the rest of American lifestyle, our traditions are now morphing into something potentially unrecognizable in this real world made virtual.

The point of the article, as I see it, can be found in this question asked in the fourth paragraph of the piece: “If dating, shopping and watching TV can be revolutionized by the Internet, why should bar and bat mitzvahs be immune?” That is it in a nutshell. Our communal striving for normalization and acceptance in the Diaspora has essentially led to the eradication of the line between the holy/kadosh and the mundane/hol. Nothing is sacred. Our coming of age ceremony, which is more of a process of becoming then merely a single event, has lost so much of its uniqueness that it can be acquired while the recipient is physically absent. Is this a tragedy? Maybe. What do we do about it? Embrace it.

Reaction to the CyBar/CyBat phenomenon seems to center on it being a reflection of a general decline in the centrality of Jewish communal life in the early 21st century. This is not news – those of us who work in synagogues struggle with this on an almost daily basis. We respond by trying to find new ways to engage our existing synagogue members and families, as well as to reach out to the unaffiliated. We are constantly exploring new models and technologies, and striving to create new visions that will enhance existing institutions. This is as it should be, and this is why we need to see the rise of the digital B’nai Mitzvah as an opportunity for us to expand our community. This requires developing a new paradigm of affiliation and membership. We need to leverage on-line participation, incorporating it into what we do in our brick and mortar facilities. This may take the form of a new synagogue membership category with its own price structure - call it “Virtual” if you will. We should contemplate creating semi-permeable walls that welcome those who are trying to find their own personal niche in the Jewish community. We must dare to think that digital experiences, if handled artfully, can be gateways to synagogue life for the unaffiliated. Face-to-face encounters no longer may be the only, or even primary, means of introduction to the Jewish community.

A Florida Rabbi I know, upon reading the Time’s article commented, “We have met the enemy, and he is us.” This made me think of Sun-Tzu, the 6th century Chinese author of “The Art of War” who wrote, “keep your friends close, but your enemies closer”. We, the inheritors of the tradition passed down to us from Moses to the Great Assembly to our parents need to find the open hands waiting to receive that birthright. Could it be that those we think are the “enemies”, those we accuse of emasculating the Judaism from which we grew, are actually reshaping our heritage, leading us to the next step in a dynamic and flourishing Jewish future?

Sharing a Shabbat Argument

2010-11-05T15:08:00.001-07:00

I came across this poem recently. It’s by Leonard Cohen and appeared in his collection entitled Book of Longing. There’s something about it that has touched my soul, and won’t leave. I thought I’d share this as my Shabbat Shalom wish to you all.

You might be a person who likes to
argue with Eternity. A good way to
begin such an Argument is:

Why do You rule against me
Why do You silence me now
When will the Truth be on my lips
and the Light be on my brow?

After some time has passed, the answer to these questions
percolating upwards from the pit of your stomach, or downwards
from the crown of your hat, or having been given, at last, the right
pill, you might begin to fall in love with the One who asked them:
and perhaps then you will cry out, as so many of our parents did:

Blessed be the One
Who has sweetened
my Argument.

Strikes, Spares and the Jewish Future

2010-10-31T20:52:00.000-07:00

I’m a bowler. I’m in a league. Sometimes I hate it. You see, once the ball is rolled, the outcome is by no means assured. I can control how I grasp the ball, swing and release it, but that’s it. Once it’s thrown, it interacts with the oil that is spread on the lane and is impacted by the laws of physics that determine the way it hits the pins, as it ricochets, slides and rolls. I can set up the perfect shot, but the process that takes place after I release that sphere is up to forces over which I have no control. There are too many variables. It’s sort of like planning for a Jewish future (you knew this was going somewhere.)

We can plan tactics, strategies, and methods of engagement but when we talk about modern Jews, we’re not dealing with a herd (Klal Yisrael notwithstanding). The phenomenon that Cohen and Eisen defined in The Jew Within 10 years ago describes American Judaism today and probably tomorrow – Jews are making their own Shabbat and are increasingly becoming alienated from established forms of Jewish communal life. Jonathan Woocher got it right last week when he wrote that we need to adjust the paradigm of Jewish education, empowering each individual to be involved in personally constructing "a meaningful and satisfying Jewish journey." And this is how building a Jewish future is like bowling.

There are many different types of bowling bowls designed for the particular style of individual bowlers. One size cannot fit all. As we design the foundations of 21st (and 22nd) century Judaism, not only do we need to contemplate how to link the silos of Jewish institutional life; we may very well need to build new ones to replace the antiquated structures that are still standing. But we can’t tear everything down, at least not for the time being.

As long as I’ve been in my present position as a synagogue educator, I’ve communicated with my religious school families via weekly e-mails. This year I decided to take the next step - I just created a religious school Facebook page. I happily announced it and received fascinating feedback. There were those religious school parents (all in their 30s and 40s) who thought it was cool. Then there were those (same demographic) who began to tremble in their shoes…as one religious school mom put it: “I’m one of the handful of people who refuse to use Facebook. I hope you will continue with your email updates.” As I’ve written before, we need to be careful of how quickly we embrace our future. We don’t want to leave anyone behind.

Obviously it will be impossible for us to forecast the outcomes as we tinker with the Jewish future. We may be positive that we’ll get a strike, but in the end we may only knock down a few pins. The trajectory of 21st century Judaism is radically different from anything that Jewish civilization has experienced before. One center of Jewish life, concentrated in North America, is a place where state sanctioned anti-Semitism by and large never existed – at least not since Peter Stuyvesant and Ulysses S. Grant. The only Jewish ghettos in the United States were self-imposed. This communal history has left an indelibly unique mark on the character of American Judaism.

The other center is Israel – with a flavor of Judaism that is defined by an amalgam of socialism, European nationalism and religious orthodoxy, and topped off with strife, both internally born and externally imposed. The resulting concoction is a type of Jewish identity that, at times, is almost alien to the Jewish sensibilities of its brothers/sisters/cousins across the great sea. Is it possible to link these silos?

In “The Big Lebowski”, John Goodman, playing the weirdest Jew I’ve ever seen, declares that he doesn’t “roll on Shabbos”. Now that I think about it, he may not be so weird, actually. He’ll drive. He’ll drink. He’ll fight. He just won’t bowl. He’s like many of us. We all seem to be making our own “Shabbos”. As we strive to engineer the future of our people, we must not be so confident that we have all the answers. We don’t. Sometimes the exception, or the unexpected, becomes the rule. That’s the only thing we can be sure of.

L'shana Tova to One and All

2010-09-04T16:13:00.000-07:00

Repentance. Renewal. Returning to our pure selves. Looking in the mirror. T’shuvah.

One of my favorite midrashim is about Reb Zusya – who upon his death was worried that he had been emulating Moses and Abraham too much, and not achieving his own Zusya potential - "In the world to come, they will not ask me, 'Why were you not Moses?' They will ask me, 'Why were you not Zusya?'"

In Mishkan T’fillah, the Reform siddur, you can find a text attributed to the Jewish Funds for Justice and associated with the Nisim B’chol Yom blessings:

I can stay the tears of others, if I can see myself

as diminished by their sorrows.

I can hasten time when everyone will be able

to rejoice in freedom.

And if I can see myself as the companion,

of those fighting against oppression,

I can honor the struggle of people everywhere

to gain dignity and deliverance from bondage.

When I look at myself in the mirror

who will I see?

As the year 5771 begins, may we remember that the way we connect with one another, even the stranger, is how we find God. Let’s not forget that we have worn the sandals and shoes of the oppressed. May we not allow ourselves to wear the boots of the oppressor.

Together we can make 5771 a year of freedom and justice and peace.

L’shana Tova u’M’tookah…May this be a year filled with goodness and sweetness.

My Dad, Repentance, and Mosques

2010-08-18T19:37:00.000-07:00

Of late I’ve been obsessing about the controversy over the Muslim center in lower Manhattan. Those of you who pay attention to my tweets or Facebook postings will have noticed this. There’s a very simple reason.

B-14777

That’s the number on my father’s arm.

We children of survivors are witnesses. Imbedded in our genes is the understanding that oppression takes many forms: quotas, job restrictions, zoning restrictions, segregation, marriage bans, ghettos, slavery, Auschwitz. If we don’t stand up at the first signs of the evil of prejudice, Martin Niemoller’s prophecy will come true.

Call me obsessed. I’m second generation. I grew up with The Number. And hearing the memories. My aunt regaling us with tales of her stay in Plaszow and Birkenau and Feldafing. My uncle being part of the crew cleaning up the Warsaw Ghetto while the fighting was still going on. My mother being smuggled out of the Budapest ghetto by her mom to get bread – at the risk of her 8 year old life. My father being introduced to life in Birkenau (he was 16) when he saw the flames rising above the chimneys and being told that that is what’s left of his parents. That’s my legacy. And my lesson.

So I am embarrassed by Jews who oppose the Park 51 project. We have been the victims of much worse. Jonathan Sarna spelled it out here : how we (the Jews) were victims of the same type of hatred that Glenn Beck, Sarah Palin and their ilk preach today. In America: the Goldener Madina.

Oppression starts mundanely. My mom tells the story of how in the beginning of the Fascist occupation of Hungary, Jews couldn’t own radios. When she was 6 she couldn’t buy an ice-cream cone at her favorite vendor because she was a Jew. That led to you-know-what.

The majority rules, but not absolutely. Conventional wisdom can be wrong. At one point, the majority of Americans supported the internment of Japanese-Americans in concentration camps, school segregation between African-Americans and whites, and treating Gays as second-class citizens. The majority has been wrong.

It’s Elul. We need to start thinking about T’shuva – Repentance. If we stand silent, or oppose the right of another religious minority to build a community center or house of worship because it “doesn’t feel right”, we are validating The Final Solution. Because if we deny a minority their rights, we may be next.

Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out --

Because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for me -- and there was no one left to speak for me. (Martin Niemoller)

The Victory Dance

2010-07-17T19:13:00.000-07:00

Last week I found myself bopping to Gloria Gaynor’s “I Will Survive”. Now, ordinarily, if I heard this tune pop up in Pandora or my radio I would turn it off. It DOES NOT reside in my iPod. This time was different: I was smiling. I was watching the video-gone-viral: “I Will Survive Auschwitz”. It features 3 generations: a holocaust survivor, his daughter and his grandchildren dancing their way through Auschwitz, Trezin, Lodz, Dachau and other holocaust sites. The score is Gaynor’s “I Will Survive”. It ends with the survivor declaring how incredible and “historical” it was for him to visit the camps with his grandchildren. Their dancing prowess leaves much to be desired, but that’s not the point. The video is about celebrating life.

When I first saw it (thanks to David Bryfman for calling my attention to it on his blog Bryfy.net) I was admittedly taken aback for the first few seconds. When I realized what was going on, I was spellbound. I watched the family cavort in front of concentration camp gates, memorials and train tracks, and remembered…

Five years ago my dad, a survivor of Birkenau-Auschwitz (he was 15) brought my mom (who spent her 8^th and 9^th years enduring the ghetto of Budapest), my wife, our 2 daughters and me on our own “March of the Living”. We ended up at the gates of Birkenau where my dad said “This is my victory. I beat the Nazis. And I’m with my granddaughters”. We didn’t dance. We said kaddish for my dad’s parents and sister instead. But it was a celebration nevertheless.

The “I Will Survive-Auschwitz” video had engendered much reaction. There seem to be 3 type of responses: there are those who think it is a travesty and the ultimate in disrespect for the memory of those who died; there are the Neo Nazis and other anti-Semites who use the film to attack the “dancing Jews” and draw the obscene comparison between Auschwitz and Gaza; and then there are those who look at it as I do: as an affirmation of victory.

In my own very unscientific survey of reactions, I found that 2^nd generation children, like me, understood the message and liked the video. My parents had a different take: they understood what the video was trying convey, but their objection was that the camps are cemeteries (for their parents) and as such are not appropriate places to dance. I wonder if this is a generational perspective. Those of us once removed from the trauma may deal with it differently. I do.

My take is that the last thing that Rudolph Hoess (the S.S. Kommandant of Auschwitz) expected or wanted was a bunch of Juden dancing in his death factory. It is an act of laughing in the face of Nazism and racism. When we think of the Shoah we need to remember and memorialize the lives of the individuals and the communities that were lost. But we must also celebrate the fact that we are still here and Eichmann isn’t. I can’t believe I’m about to do this, but I’m going to quote Gloria Gaynor: “I've got all my life to live, I've got all my love to give, and I'll survive, I will survive.”

Worshiping at the Alter of Innovation - For Members Only?

2010-07-08T18:09:00.000-07:00

I write this with love for Jewish innovation and ROI.

This is actually an account of what my mind has been coming up with while the ROI summit has been taking place in Israel this past week. For the uninitiated, the ROI Summit is the brainchild of Lynn Schusterman, the Center for Leadership Initiatives and Taglit-Birthright Israel, and is officially described as The ROI Community for Young Jewish Innovators. Its vision is to create and harness the energy of a “global community of outstanding creative individuals who have a personal vision about how to make the Jewish world a better place.” The organization helps fund initiatives that could transform how we live Jewishly today and tomorrow. I’ve been following it religiously on twitter at #roicom as well as on the ROI website.

At the beginning of the week, as attendees began arriving, the tenor of the tweets was joyous: Acquaintances being renewed and newly formed; folks retelling their stories of who they met on the flight. One participant even tweeted: “guy next to me on the plane was reading a dossier on "the obama agenda" from misrad habitachon. creepy.” Sounds great.

During the course of the summit tweets described how everyone was being inspired by the goings-on. I was trying to find content: what were the sessions about, and what did the facilitators have to say. I lurked the ROI website trying to glean what was being taught. I was annoyed (let’s be honest here) that prominently placed on the right side of the page is a member login. Now, I don’t know about you, but I happen to find member logins supremely uninviting. I’m a Jewish educator. I thrive on creating innovating environments for my students – be they kids, parents or other adults. So to be denied access to resources because I’m not a “young Jewish innovator” is frankly, and pardon my French, fucking annoying. There were a couple of videos that gave a taste, but that is not a meal.

At one point I (@redmenace56) did tweet my hope that we will learn from ROI so we who did not have the privilege to attend could apply these lessons. Others (@Jewishtweets) reiterated that call. And references to progress kept being tweeted. But no specifics have been revealed.

On Wednesday ROI had its first “community [global] brainstorm”. One tweeter commented on the “focus on concrete and implementable ideas”. What does this mean? How can I use it? Another tweet went like this: “Actually excited about a great idea @chicagoleah and I cooked up with Ben at #roicom” And the idea is? There were a few tweets commenting on the role of Orthodoxy in the “Jewish Peoplehood category”. @jchickrock tweeted: “325 challenges posted.127 solutions. 42 action posters created. let's get it on” Huh? Can we in the Diaspora get a hint as to what is being alluded? @JewishTweets posted the following: “Will the results of the community brainstorm this morning be shared?” The response from the “official tweeter” (insofar as there is a concept of officialdom in this Brave New World), @ROICommunity, responded: “don't worry - we'll reveal all soon. well, not "all," but at least "some." :)” I was disappointed by that comment and what it implied. The Jerusalem Post published a description of the goings on. Not enough. We Jewish educators in the Diaspora need to get to work. We need ideas now, even if we are not in the demographic that are invited to attend ROI summits.

I know I sound like I’m whining. Maybe I am, but it’s because I feel shut out. I know it’s not intentional. At one point I got frustrated and googled “ROI grants 2010.” It took me here. The mother-lode. Stuff I can use as a Jewish educator. Why isn’t this ROI’s homepage? Why is it buried? It needs to be accessible. I’m pretty computer savvy for a 53 year old, but it should be easy. Those of us in Jew-biz yearn to learn from the fresh creative minds that attended ROI. If you investigate the ROI website, you can find the newsletter and other nuggets. Buried. It needs to be out there - accessible for us Digital Immigrants. As our students join our ranks as Jewish educators and engagers, we all need to be in the same loop. This ain’t highschool with its cliques and passwords. It isn’t Members Only. It’s more important than that. As weird as it sounds, the future is our teacher. We need to learn from it. Please…share.

Opening the Door Wider

2010-06-29T07:07:00.000-07:00

The theme of rebuilding connections to Israel has been making Jewish headlines this past week. The newly released Jewish Agency strategic plan (Securing the Future: Forging a Jewish Agency for Israel and the Jewish People) sets out a blueprint that would lead to forging new links between Israel and the next generation, thereby ensuring the continued centrality of Israel and Zionism in 21^st century Judaism. The new focus will be the younger generation, Jews between the ages of 13 and 35. The tool will be creating more programs that will entice this age group to step through the door and come to Israel to study, to play, to visit, and maybe, ultimately to live.

What the Jewish Agency is planning makes perfect sense. It is not news that the best way to connect anyone to Israel is by taking them there. However, there is one glitch. Yes we need to focus on those born in the last 3 decades. But I think we are forgetting that there is a whole other group of people who may never have been to Israel, and have considerable influence on whether teens will go or not. I’m talking about their parents. Without their buy-in, their kids won’t be on that El Al flight to Ben Gurion airport.

According to Jack Wertheimer (The Truth About American Jews and Israel), only 35% of American Jews have visited Israel. The 2000-2001 National Jewish Population Study estimated this number to be 41% of all Jews, and less then 30% of those between the ages of 18 and 54 (today’s 28 to 64 year olds). We can’t just focus on teens. We need to reach out to their parents, the folks who will sign the permission slip. These are the people who came of age in the ‘80s, who grew up with Israel’s image being tarnished by the 1982 Lebanon war, the first Intifada and Gulf War #1. This is a generation that never went to Israel because of the perceived violence and danger. They haven’t had a chance to experience Israel first-hand. They have raised their kids to see Israel as being somewhat important, but are unable to share their own personal impressions. These are the parents of the kids who now attend congregational schools and confirmation programs and who tell me “It’s too dangerous to send my kid to Israel.” These are the folks we need to send there. If they go, their children are more likely to follow.

A flight to Israel during summer (when kids are on vacation) costs over $1000.00 a person. For a family of 4 we’re probably talking over $6000 for everything. I think the time has come to make it easier to get to Israel. We seem to be moving in the right direction with college students and young adults. We’re about to work on getting more teens there. I propose that we create programs that focus on families who have never been to Israel: sort of like Birthright, but for parents and their school-aged children.

I know it’s a lot of money and this idea is fraught with logistical impossibilities, but I believe that parents are the best teachers, and if they fall in love with Israel, this will influence how they raise their children. Maybe I’m being impractical and unrealistic, however I am an old-time Zionist who still believes in what Herzl said: Im Tirzu Eyn Zo Agadah: If you will it, it is no dream. The door is open. We just need to try to entice more folks to step through.

Teva-JNF seminar: pt 4 - The Jewish Edge Effect

2010-06-11T11:07:00.000-07:00

Changing frames of reference. That’s really the best way to describe this past week’s Teva Seminar on Jewish Environmental Education. Old ideas were presented in new packaging, and new concepts were introduced in the context of tradition (albeit in new garb, as well). These are examples of what I call the “Jewish Edge Effect”.

A few days ago I wrote about the scientific concept of “the edge effect”: the phenomenon of increased biodiversity in areas where different habitats meet. We can observe the Jewish edge effect when different Jewish perspectives converge and create new approaches to both tradition and modernity, challenging and modifying conventional wisdom. That’s what happened here, specifically in terms of the JNF and Israel.

The presentations and programs from the Jewish National Fund were geared to present Israel in a benign, green fashion, sidelining the political elephant in the room. I think to a great extent they succeeded: The educators who participated in those sessions came away with ideas of how to present the Jewish State in positive ways that are accessible to all, and especially speak to young people – those who, according to research and experience, are the least engaged when it comes to Israel.

This is where the Jewish edge effect comes in. At the Teva seminar, all participants learned that “nature has no boundaries” (Noam Dolgin) and that preserving the ecological balance in the region can be the key leading to less hostilities and even (dare I say it?) peace. But this was just one small piece. Sessions on climate change, Shabbat as an example for sustainable living, and rabbinic perspectives on consumption created a mindset for all participants to open up to other possibilities. The “Topsy-Turvy” bus that sat by the lake in the parking lot across from the dining hall was, I think, the most salient example of how things can be seen differently. This had a significant impact on how those Jewish educators from “main stream” institutions who participated in the JNF programming will approach teaching about Israel in the future.

If we present Israel as a place where nature happens, a place where the inhabitants cope with sharing scarce resources, could this possibly effect how our students look at Israel in the future; not as a venue of conflict, but as a land that needs to be worked and protected (Genesis 2:15)? A changing frame of reference regarding Eretz Yisrael, focusing on the context of The Land that is shared by all, might create a new spark of caring for those who don’t remember ’67, but do remember Gaza and the flotilla.

I’m not so naïve as to believe that JNF’s mission has changed: its raison d’être is classic Zionist: to create a majority Jewish presence on the Land. However maybe if the sentiments of future supporters of JNF and Israel are not just motivated by demographic and nationalist concerns, but rather by caring for the Land and its promise, we may find a renewed interest in Israel and Zionism, which might then have a real influence on Israel itself.

The Jewish edge effect describes a framework for the promise of an evolving Judaism. One that draws from different cultural, technological and intellectual habitats that converge and from which can spring forth a flourishing Jewish tomorrow.

Teva-JNF seminar:pt.3

2010-06-08T20:53:00.000-07:00

I was on an upside-down bus today. Actually it’s called the “Topsy-turvy bus”. Here it is:

Originally a work of art by the late artist Tom Kennedy, this unique mode of transportation has now become a tool for education: teaching new paradigms in the way we look at our relationship with the planet. The bus runs on vegetable oil and has recently completed a cross-country trip, the goal of which was to deliver green education to all and sundry. For more information you can go to the Jewish Climate Change Campaign Tour blog.

Rachel, one of the drivers in the recent journey described the teaching method behind the bus madness as “taking folks by surprise.” Getting people’s attention is way to get them to be more receptive to a new message and way of seeing reality. I think we have a lot to learn from this when it comes to teaching about Israel.

One of the sessions I attended today was offered by the Jewish National Fund and focused on the “GoNeutral Project”. Its purpose is to create a connection between Israel and planting trees as a means of controlling carbon emissions. It’s a clever idea, and makes it easy to care about an Israel where the politics are irrelevant. It’s effective because most of us associate the JNF with the blue boxes and the issue of land ownership. This reaches us because it frames the whole issue in the surprising context of Israel's role in reducing the threat of greenhouse gases. A good beginning towards getting us to change how we look at the Jewish State. More work needs to follow, but at least we are starting to make the first baby steps.

Teva-JNF seminar:pt.2

2010-06-07T20:08:00.000-07:00

I learned a new concept today: “The Edge effect”. This is a term used in environmental sciences that describes the phenomenon of increased biodiversity in areas where different habitats meet. This means that in areas where a forest and a meadow touch each other, you’ll find greater varieties of species coexisting. The introduction of new and seemingly disparate elements into a system expands it. Nili Simhai, Director of the Teva Seminar on Jewish Environmental Education, introduced this theme as she welcomed us all to this year’s 16th annual conference. She was teaching it in the context of Jewish environmental awareness and the interface between the learner, the teacher and the land, but I’m going to extrapolate from it: The education experience is like an ecosystem. The way we teach something has an impact on what we’re teaching. By bringing in new and possibly novel ideas and modalities, we can have an influence on both the learner and on what she is learning. While this isn’t such a revolutionary idea, the setting in which it was articulated made it special.

Rabbi Arthur Waskow followed Nili by exploring a spiritual aspect of the current environmental crises: Finding God in the Gulf, if you will. He started with the unpronounceable name of the Deity, explaining that it can only be articulated by exhaling. He’s right. Try to pronounce those 4 Hebrew letters. You can’t. If God’s essence is in a breath, then all life (human and other) is united by this. “The breathing of all life is God’s name.” The implication is that “God’s own name is at risk” today on this planet, because of the threat to its ecological soundness. I found this thought refreshing not because I’ve become a follower of Jewish renewal (I have not), but because it reframed the question of our relationship to the environment, adding an extra layer to how we relate to it, interact with it, and influence it. The edge effect in action, if you will.

In my last post I wrote about my expectations of this seminar and how I hoped it would provide a new way to teach about Israel. Now I want to see how this “edge effect” can also describe the influence our teaching can have not only on the learner, but also on The Land.

Teva-JNF seminar:pt.1

2010-06-06T15:27:00.000-07:00

Whew. Finally got a seat at a bar as I await my flight here in Ft. Laurderdale as I begin my journey to the Teva-JNF Ambassadors’ seminar. I’ve been mulling over the next few days – what can I expect, especially in this past week of Zionist maritime adventures?

This whole conference, initially meant to teach educators how to present Israel in a green perspective has taken on a more poignant perspective. It’s not just about creating a connection between Creation (ma’aseh b’resheet) and Jewish life and Israel. It’s become more urgent – building a link between Jewish youth of today and tomorrow and Eretz Yisrael in a language that speaks to their sensibilities. And now, after the events of the week, we need to find ways that create positive links to Israel, despite the troublesome stream of bad news from the region. We're not talking about PR. It's not about image. It's about how we want our kids to teach their kids about Israel.

So…my expectations? What do I want to come away with? A way of presenting the idea of Israel that is not linked to blockades and ships and commandos landing on a deck being attacked. A way that will help us look at Israel as a fulfillment of the dreams of a people searching for freedom for themselves, and not at the expense on another.

Let’s see what the next week brings. I'll be tweeting (you can follow me as redmenace 56) and blogging here.

Choosing to Squeeze the Trigger

2010-06-01T06:37:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was a difficult day. As Daniel Gordis described it: A yom kasheh - a tough day. It’s irrelevant if the decisions of the Israeli government regarding the flotilla were right or wrong. There are as many articles being published in Israel by fathers and mothers of Israeli soldiers calling the operation a debacle as there are hailing the bravery of our Israeli boys and nefariousness of the so-called “peace activists” (see the Gordis piece above). And now government ministers are protesting that they were not included in the decision. I’m not sure we’ll ever really know the truth of what happened, but what concerns me is something different: What has this conflict done to our sense of humanity and how will it impact on what we teach the next generation.

I’m an old-time Zionist whose pride in Israel was shaped by the events of June 1967. But as I grew, my belief in the righteousness of Jewish nationalism was enhanced by another Jewish value: “That which is hateful to you, don’t do to another.” As a Jewish educator, I try to teach that the value of Tzedek – Justice, is a fundamental component of Jewish living, especially expressed in the context of the Jewish State. It is for this reason that I am repulsed by Golda Meir’s statement of how difficult it will be for Israel to forgive Arab leaders for “forcing us to kill their children.” You see, it’s us, the Jews/Zionists/Israelis who are choosing to squeeze the trigger. Yes, it is in self defense, but I can’t help but wonder if there could be another way.

Zionism is not a movement to create a country that’s just like others, like Thailand or Russia. Its mission is to create a Jewish state – a place where Jewish values thrive. Kedoshim Tehee’yoo – You shall be Holy. These words are from the book of Leviticus, in Parashat Kedoshim. Kadosh means special, distinct. Not like everyone else. It means that we need to take the extra step towards imitating God, in whose image we were created. This belief informs how I approach what happens in Israel, which I consider my homeland, from which I live in exile. I don’t know how to reconcile a blockade of 1.4 million people with holiness. And Hamas be damned - we are talking about human beings. Kids. Old people. They are suffering. Hamas is forcing us to do this? We are squeezing the trigger. How is this holy behavior? In the name of self-defense can one put striving towards holiness on hold? How do I explain this to a 7^th grader?

Yes we are at war, and we need to defend ourselves. But, are we doing it the right way, the just way? How do we teach this to our kids? I don’t know. That’s what’s scaring me and made yesterday a yom kasheh.

Learning To Read All Over Again: Part 2

2010-05-03T20:43:00.000-07:00

# 1. Our task as Jewish educators is to prepare and motivate students to use their power, talent, and passion to build their own Jewish lives, rooted in who they are and what they consider important. When through this individualized Jewish exploration, am’cha leads themselves into their own dreams, they will contribute in new and beautiful ways to the diversity of Jewish life. Even in these challenging times, there is no greater investment we could make. (Beth Cousens: http://ejewishphilanthropy.com/making-jewish-meaning/)

#2. The core of any mature tree is old wood. The old wood is crucial to maintaining the tree’s structure, its ability to withstand the changing winds, but no growth is going on there. The living processes that are the growth of the tree, its message to the future, take place only in the tree’s newest and outermost ring. We today are that outermost ring, and the growing is up to us. (Rabbi Zalman Schachter Shalomi, quoted in Contemporary American Judaism by Dana Evan Kaplan)

#3. One Book, One Twitter: What the hell do we do now, #1b1t? (@crowdsourcing)

#4. Chester Middle School Principal Ernie Jackson… challenged reading and social studies teacher Mel Wesenberg to find ways to use text messaging to teach poetry. The results were surprising: Kids who used their cell phones to boil down the main points of the stanzas got 80 percent of the questions about a poem correct on a state test. Kids taught the same poem in the traditional way – reading, reciting and discussing – got only 40 percent of the questions right. (http://www.recordonline.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20100426/NEWS/100429736)

In my last post I pondered the concept of cultural and technological literacy, and how it applies to the craft of Jewish teaching. I just read an article written by Beth Cousens, (see #1, above) that articulated the need for personal ownership of knowledge. Learning needs a heart to be real. Without belonging to the student, it becomes sterile, and ultimately besides the point. But wait…there’s more.

I’ve just finished Contemporary American Judaism by Dana Evan Kaplan. It’s a fascinating read that describes how we ended up where we are today. Reb Zalman’s musings on the relationship between tree growth and the Jewish tomorrow (see #2) struck a chord in me, articulating the dynamic between the past, the future and today’s students. Jewish learning is a force that connects all generations. This linkage, by necessity, leads to an obligation. We are each responsible, one for the other – including teaching those who have not yet been born. The meaning we create leads to conceptualizations that have yet to be grasped. But wait…there’s more.

I imagine you’ve all heard of the concept of “One Book, One Community”, where a whole community reads and discusses a book - all in “the real world”. Wired Magazine’s Jeff Howe (@crowdsourcing) has gone one step further, proposing and making real an idea so simple in its elegance: a community in the twitterverse will read one book and then discuss it “one tweet at a time” (#3). Thousands of “tweeps” (denizens of the twitterverse) will exchange ideas about a piece of modern American fiction (in this case American Gods by Neil Gaiman). The kehillah, the community, is redefined, giving birth to new modes of interaction. A new type of learning community is born. The revolutionary Talmudic trans-generational conversations of the past have led us to digital discussions in virtual time. But wait…there’s more.

A New York State middle school has made a successful step in integrating the way 21^st century technology can be used in a language program, using cell phone texting as a teaching tool (#4). The initial results seem positive, the validity of state testing as a valid measure of student achievement being in question, notwithstanding. The implications of this lead us to consider the creation of a new form of midrash, reflecting new forms of realities and unthought-of technologies.

Where does this lead us?

The new language in which we need to immerse ourselves to reach our students is a tool that forces us to encounter a world in which poetry and novels can be interpreted in 140 characters. It’s a world where the mechanics of learning are newly defined in the contexts of digital brains and the ability to hyperconnect: to actively participate in an interactive virtual world where information from a myriad of sources is assimilated, translated and reduced to bits and bytes that are easily manipulated by these 21^st century minds. When we build our new models for learning and teaching, we need to understand the hardwiring in our students’ heads, taking advantage of its schematics as an opportunity to grant our students the gift of creating personal meaning as they initiate their own Jewish explorations.

As a tree grows it adds new rings on old; its roots grow deeper and its branches longer and higher. It expands in all directions, taking nourishment from the earth, the air, and from itself: old wood feeding the new. Reb Zalman is right: We are currently the outermost ring; it’s up to us to provide the sustenance that will nurture the next one.

Learning To Read All Over Again

2010-04-16T05:00:00.000-07:00

It’s that time of year again. I’m not talking about Yom HaAtzmaut, or Shavuot. I’m not even referring to end of the year progress reports, Hebrew evaluations and confirmation services. This is the time that my thoughts focus on the next few years. What will my school look like in a year or two? How can I, in partnership with my school parents, initiate and implement constructive and transformational change?

There are a lot of interesting ideas floating around the cloud these days. One I just discovered can be found at Yerusha (here: http://www.yerusha.org/index.html and here: http://www.forward.com/articles/127124/). This new model of Jewish education aspires to returning parents to the role of primary educator through learning experiences that integrate technology and homeschooling. I would love to know how and if it works. I do know that there is much to learn from this program. This is just one proposal – one way that we can reach our students, whoever they are.

I recently attended the 2010 Technology Conference hosted by the Palm Beach County School District. There, I explored how the iGeneration (or whatever you want to call folks born in the last decade or so) speak a different language. We educators need to adapt to shifting notions of literacy, adopting the concept of “Transliteracy”: the ability to read, write and interact across an array of platforms and tools. This doesn’t just mean that we need to integrate the iTouch and Google Earth into our lessons. What it demands from us is that we must re-learn how to read. It is incumbent upon us to develop the ability to understand the new alphabet that our students are embracing. At the same time, we need to learn to listen to the language our school parents are speaking, as they strive to find ways of connecting their kids to a Jewish future.

Jason Ohler defines literacy as “being able to consume and produce the media forms of the day. The default media form has shifted from the essay to the multimedia collage.” (http://www.jasonohler.com/storytelling/beyondwords.cfm). What this means in the world of Jewish educational engagement is that we need to reset our defaults. These new modules may vary from cell phone texting as a classroom tool to a community oriented spiritual experience by a lake. It doesn’t matter if the learning is electric or organic. Labels are irrelevant. What matters is not that we can decode a language – reciting a string of symbols without comprehension - but that we can really read - ascribing meaning to the words written in those symbols. It means immersing ourselves in a new literacy that will shape how the future will be perceived. It means that maybe, if we become fluent enough in these new languages, we too can become writers, reaching the readers, opening doors to Jewish tomorrows.

But first we need to learn to read all over again.

Can "Lost" save the Jewish world?

2010-02-28T13:40:00.000-08:00

I’ll just put it out there: I love “Lost”. It helps complete my Tuesdays, watching how Hugo, Jack, Kate and everyone else on the Island figure out what their purpose in life is. In the last episode, “Lost” gematria became a major theme. For those of you who seek direction let me explain. In the show, a series of numbers pop up periodically, and seem to have a crucial connection to the lives of the characters. These numbers are 4,8,15,16,23,42. This week, the number 23 was very important in relation to one of the central personalities. On the same day, “Idea #23” was posted on the “28 days, 28 ideas” website, on which appear 28 “great new ideas for helping out the Jews”. Go here to read them all: http://28days28ideas.com/. I began thinking: What if Life imitated Art? Maybe there is a super-mystical connection between the numerals on “Lost” and the “28 Ideas”. So I began to correlate the “Lost” numerology to the 28 ideas for the Jewish tomorrow found on the web. This is what I found:

#4: Orthodox Feminist Day Schools - I’m not Orthodox, but this idea of rethinking gender roles in traditional Judaism is emblematic of Jewish history being defined by changes in frames of reference. The strength of Judaism is its ability to redraw itself within the context of modernity (whenever that is) and Jewish tradition, whether it’s the rise of Rabbinic Judaism after the destruction of the 2nd Temple, the emergence of the Hassidic movement in the 18th century or the development of Zionism in the last 150 years. We have never been afraid of walking through open doors – or at least checking out what’s on the other side. Idea #4 (http://blogs.forward.com/sisterhood-blog/124938/) is an example of an evolving and ever-growing Judaism.

#8: Jewish Artists Residency – The idea of establishing a community of artists (http://blogs.jta.org/philanthropy/article/2010/02/06/1010491/idea-8-jewish-artists-residency) leads me to think about creating dynamic communities of learning and engagement that touch on the diverse nature of what it means to study and be Jewish. It speaks to the concept that “the same old same old” doesn’t apply anymore, and that we need to foster safe, nurturing and constructive environments that can be catalysts for Jewish growth, even if they are not conventional.

#15: Return of the Matchmaker – We’re not talking about a throw-back to the time before JDate. This idea suggests the designing of structures that connect individuals to Jewish experiences; “building relationships rather than programs” (http://blogs.jta.org/philanthropy/article/2010/02/16/1010642/idea-15-return-of-the-matchmaker). It reflects the psychology of the 21st century American consumerist ethic. Whether we like it or not, Jewish life in North America is impacted by hyper-individualism. The question is how do we leverage this phenomenon to our advantage? How do we become guides and connectors in the marketplace of Jewish thought and practice?

#16: Chai Mitzvah – A simple but elegant idea (http://blogs.jta.org/philanthropy/article/2010/02/16/1010654/idea-16-chai-mitzvah) that compliments idea #15: link people to opportunities to study and practice Jewish life, establishing them as moments of celebration and confirmation. We never stop learning, so why can’t we create a new ritual or milestone that commemorates our never-ending path towards Jewish enlightenment? What’s wonderful about this is that it affirms what we all knew already: that study leads to practice, and that adults who continue on the journey of Torah Lishma can take this exquisitely personal experience and make it public, special, and (who knows) even holy.

#23: This is the idea that led me to the epiphany that “Lost” may help us find the answer. The idea is: Jewish Identity Projects Are Not The Answer. Now, this may sound radical, but the basic concept is that being Jewish is more than how one feels. Judaism is an action oriented culture/civilization/way of life. It’s not about talking the talk; it’s about walking the walk. Being Jewish is about doing Jewish. Idea #23 (http://blogs.jta.org/philanthropy/article/2010/02/23/1010767/idea-23-jewish-identity-projects-are-not-the-answer) teaches us that we need to reevaluate our efforts to promote Jewish engagement. Touchy – feely ain’t enough. It’s how we behave that defines what being Jewish is all about.

We’re missing one idea for one number: #42. But that’s okay. I was being a tad playful when I began this “Lost” scavenger hunt, but you know, these ideas are crucial. If we care about creating a Jewish future, we need to be prepared to find the answers in unexpected places. These ideas (and all of the 28) can help us rethink what we’re doing and how we need to move forward. And who knows, someone may come up with idea #42 which will change everything.

On that note, see you on the Island.

Jump starting the week

2010-02-20T16:42:00.000-08:00

Thinking about God today. I suppose it’s appropriate – it is Shabbat. Anyway, I just received a book by Abraham Joshua Heschel: The Ineffable Name of God: Man. It’s a collection of poems that this greatest of 20th century Jewish thinkers (though Buber is up there, too), published when he was slightly older then my daughter. I opened it up randomly, and found this piece (on page 31) which really speaks to me. Like I've always said: Serendipity is proof of the divine.

Here it is.

Transmissions flow from your heart to Mine.
Trading, twining My pain with yours.
Am I not – you? Are you not – I?

My nerves are clustered with Yours.
Your dreams have met with mine.
Are we not one in the bodies of millions?

Often I glimpse Myself in everyone’s form,
Hear My own speech – a distant, quiet voice – in people’s
weeping.
as if under millions of masks My face would lie hidden.
I live in Me and in you.
Through you lips goes a word from Me to Me,
From your eyes drips a tear – its source in Me.

When a need pains You, alarm me!
When You miss a human being
tear open my door!
You live in Yourself, You live in me.

Have a good week everyone.

What's the Point?

2009-12-27T18:39:00.000-08:00

One of the hardest things I do is try to figure out what to teach my students, whether they are supremely unmotivated 8th graders or the teaching staff at the religious school I direct or my daughters. I find myself getting caught up in what I want them to learn, what I want them to know, and I forget that maybe I need to think about what they are ready to learn, what they are ready to know. If I start from where they are, I may make more progress.

This week in the twitterverse a fascinating question was raised: Is there such a thing as a universal Jewish curriculum? I translate that to mean “what are Jewish basic skills? What does a person need to know to be a member of the tribe?” Prayer? Which nusach, Ashkenazi or S’faradi? Keeping Kosher? Which heksher, OU or Star K? Affinity to Israel? Which ideology, Jstreet or ZOA? My point is best articulated by Jay Michaelson in his recent piece in The Forward called “The Myth of Authenticity” (www.forward.com/articles/121663) in which he exposes the idolatrous nature of Jewish-ideological-correctness. Once we understand that the concept of Jewish Absolute Truth is not at all clear-cut, we can begin to create a standardized Jewish curriculum.

What are the Jewish big ideas (or enduring understandings if you prefer) we want to pass on to the next generation? As I mulled this over, Rambam’s 13 Articles of Faith popped into my head. These are the 13 things (http://www.mesora.org/13principles.html) that Jews are supposed to believe, according to the 12th century Maimonides. They are summarized in the siddur in the prayer called the Yigdal. Are they, as written, still relevant to the 21st century Jewish world? Do you, as an educator or 21st century Jew, accept these 800 year old statements as core values in your faith? For instance, do you believe in the physical resurrection of the dead? How about the assertion that the Torah was actually given to Moses at Sinai? Do you believe in the messiah as an actual person who will be descended from the House of David? If we tried to create a curriculum based on these tenets, would our students accept them? Would they be relevant to them at all? I’m not sure.

So as we discuss Jewish big ideas, we need to make sure that they have meaning to the modern mind. If we start teaching about values that have no connection to the belief system of our students, we will be so totally out of their frame of reference we will ultimately be teaching to empty classrooms.

The strength of Judaism is its ability to evolve. Back in the days of the Mishnah, Pharisees , Sadducees and Essenes were arguing over the definition of authentic Judaism. Should Torah interpretation be permitted? Is there life after death? What about free will and angels? Today’s arguments over the role of women, the centrality of the State of Israel, matrilineal vs. patrilineal descent need to inform whatever curriculum we create. If anything is authentically Jewish, it is the dynamic nature of pluralistic Jewish spiritual and ideological development. Maybe that’s the big idea, the enduring understanding with which we begin: The glory of Jewish diversity.

One Way or Another

2009-12-09T05:21:00.000-08:00

I just read a depressing column in last week’s Forward ( http://forward.com/articles/120123/). It was written by Rabbi Irving Greenberg and it was entitled “There is No Alternative to Day Schools”. In the piece Rabbi Greenberg spelled out his case for massive funding for Day School education, declaring that that there is no other alternative in the fight against assimilation. He calls for the organized Jewish community to “muster its will to live and step up to pay the price – whatever it costs – for the highest level of Jewish education for its young.” Great sentiments. I agree with Rabbi Greenberg. Unfortunately, the solution he is proposing marginalizes most American Jews. That’s why it’s sad.

The majority of those getting any Jewish education in the U.S. do NOT attend Day Schools. Most of them have chosen the path of Congregational education. There are a lot of reasons, cost being just one. The point is that this is where most of the kids are and, I believe, where they will be in the future. So to declare that the Jewish Community needs to invest its education resources primarily in Day Schools ignores the reality of American Jewish life.

Congregational schools (Hebrew Schools, Supplementary Schools, whatever you want to call them) have gotten a bad rap over the years - in some cases deservedly so. Many of us “of a certain age” recall with shudders our Hebrew School experiences. Ironically, some of us have chosen, davka, to work in Jewish education to make it better. That’s the point. There are many Jewish educators in North America who are working very hard to recreate the Congregational School, reformatting it if you will. We’re experimenting with technology, experiential education, off-site learning, service-learning, camp-like experiences. You will find us at conferences, or in the cloud on Twitter and Google Wave. Those of us who work in Jewish education and are affiliated with Synagogue schools understand that the reality of the Jewish community is expressed in its diversity. There is no ONE way. We need to reach the kids however we can. This means that Day Schools, by definition, are definitely NOT the only alternative.

The organized Jewish community (i.e. federations) doesn’t seem to get this message. They are proud of the amount of money they give their community Day Schools, but when asked about how much they give to synagogue schools, in many cases the sound of silence reigns supreme. Amending Rabbi Greenbergs dramatic call, I believe that community organizations must “muster their will” to promote ALL Jewish education, embracing the diversity that is the strength of Judaism. It is time for synagogues and other non-Day School entities to have a seat at the community table when the discussion turns to funding the education of the next generation.

I’m not sure if Rabbi Greenberg will ever see these words. If you do, Rabbi, please understand that I wrote them with only respect for you and your message. I hope that you can understand that the future of Judaism that is embodied in our young people is rooted in more than one type of learning. During the Pesach seder we embrace the four sons, reveling in how they come to us with different questions (even if we don’t like the way they are asked), looking for answers that speak to them. We must remember that they are our children. We cannot turn them away.

Halloween, and other Scary Monsters

2009-11-01T14:40:00.000-08:00

I’m running out of candy.

And they keep ringing my doorbell.

So I’m sitting here, wearing my “Scream” face (you know – the demon with the BIG mouth from the movie) and my“Cat In The Hat” hat on my head, waiting for the inevitable.

I really wasn’t planning on blogging about Halloween. I mean I think it’s amusing that there are folks who think it’s a terrible holiday because of its pagan roots. I even got yelled at because I called this week’s Junior Congregation “Spooky Shabbat”. I figured we would tell stories like the Witch of Endor (II Samuel) or about vampires (Sefer Chassidim) or about the Golem (the Maharal). I can’t say I was surprised, though. We have a lot of censorship in the Jewish community.

I think that’s really what I want to blog about. That’s what’s been keeping from posting for the past 6 weeks.

You see, I’ve wanted to write about Israel, but I was worried that what I would write would be too controversial. It would challenge the mainstream view of the heroic Jewish state. I launched a trial balloon about contemporary Diaspora connections to “The State” on Twitter at #jed21, but they were ignored. Quoting Gomer Pyle – “Surprise, surprise, surprise”.

And then there was J.Street (http://jstreet.org). I’ve been a supporter since it began. I believe that one’s support of, or opposition to, settlements in the West Bank should not be a measure of one’s support of Israel. But, in America, it seems that folks are so paranoid that if you make a public statement opposing current Likud policy you are branded a self-hating Jew. This, despite the fact that the same views are held by many Israelis, including Israeli parliament members representing main stream Zionist parties, like the Labor party and segments of Kadima. That pisses me off, because I love Israel. I love being Jewish. And I oppose settlement expansion. I’ve been a supporter and participant of Shalom Achsav (Peace Now – the mainstream Israeli peace movement) since it’s inception in 1978 and took part in anti-war demonstrations while I served in the IDF as a combat medic in the West Bank. Does that make me anti-Israel? I dare you to tell me so.

The Zionist movement has always been democratic. My god, there were folks (including Theodore Herzl) who were in favor of creating “Altneuland” in…Uganda. Can you imagine what that would mean? Making aliya to Kampala? So to say that J.street is not pro-Israel because it opposes current Israeli government policy is an expression of one’s (how do I say this?) ignorance of things Zionist. Can you say "Swift-boating"?

J.street is the embodiment of our people’s struggle with the idea of “Der Judenstaat”. What is the nature of creating a Jewish state? How do we deal with the OTHER inhabitants of The Land? More to the point, what is Diaspora Judaism’s role in this process? I think that is an incredibly important question. We don’t live in Israel. Our kids aren’t drafted to the IDF. So do we have a right to an opinion? If we don’t does that mean that we should we stop giving money to Israeli organizations that promote a political agenda, such as American Friends of Ateret Cohanim or American Friends of the Likud that support continued settlement growth in the West Bank, or American Friends of Peace Now or B’tselem, that don’t? What are our roles, in the Galut, the Diaspora, when it comes to Israel and policy?

I’m going to ask it again: Do we have a right to an opinion? If we don’t, what does this say about the state of Zionism, a movement that was created to link Galut with Eretz Yisrael?

If we don’t have a right to an opinion, what does this say about our relationship to Israel?

BOO!!!

To Be, Or Not To Be...Part Of The Jewish Community. That Is The Question

2009-09-15T12:45:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago a story broke in our local paper about a Jewish girl who is being privately trained for her Bat Mitzvah. The happy event will take place on a cruise ship – hence we are speaking of a “boat-mitzvah”. The family has not been affiliated with any synagogue. Letters to the Editor were sent by Rabbis and congregational leaders bemoaning the fact that such a ceremony was being planned and implemented sans congregational blessing. A hue and cry was raised asserting that becoming a Bat (or Bar) Mitzvah implies becoming part of the Jewish community, and to celebrate this milestone without said community makes the ceremony meaningless. This is all true, but…

I think the issue is that people are trying to find new ways of engaging in what they see as Judaism. Granted, deciding that the Bat Mitzvah should take place on a cruise without any synagogue involvement is troubling – reflecting a sense of communal alienation. Down here in Palm Beach County we suffer from an extremely high rate of non-affiliation – I believe that we are close to having the highest rate in the United States. What has caused such an alarming statistic? Is it a symptom of a poor educational system that failed to transmit the message of klal yisrael to these peripherally engaged Jews, or is because many feel that it's really expensive to be part of the organized Jewish community today, or is it that they perceive (rightly or wrongly) that they are not welcomed in congregations because they are in interfaith marriages? What do we do about all this? Is it fair to blame the unaffiliated, or must we look at ourselves in a mirror – seeing our own blemishes? What are our responsibilities?

The definition of living Jewishly is changing. This is not news. Assumptions regarding our relationship to Israel and to the organized Jewish community are being challenged. I refer you, for instance, to this article in New Voices – National Jewish Student Magazine: http://www.newvoices.org/community?id=0016 . The implications are, to say the least, intriguing. Questioning what traditional Jewish affiliation is has become acceptable and mainstream. What we are witnessing, it seems, is a redefinition of what it means to be part of the tribe. I’m not sure this is so bad.

When we are challenged, we thrive. I think that is what is happening to Judaism today. We are being forced to question what we always thought was right, and rethink what we need to do in the future. We are starting the process of retooling ourselves, developing new paradigms that will shape what it means to be Jewish, tomorrow.

You know what? I’m glad. Yeah – we always need to look back, but we have to focus on the road ahead. Seeing what’s behind us is what rear view mirrors are all about. However, the action is always in front of us. That’s why windshields are so big.

Here’s wishing one and all a joyous, sweet and fulfilling New Year. L’shana Tova u’m’tooka.

Buddy, Can You Spare A Dime?

2009-08-30T16:07:00.000-07:00

San Francisco - an incredible city. I just returned from what I thought would be a 5 day respite from my “real world”. I explored, what was for me, a new corner of the globe. The food, the climate, and the tourist attractions – all were unforgettable. And so was the real world I crashed into - the homeless denizens of the Bay Area: that community of rootless individuals living in doorways, panhandling, living their lives – if that’s what you can call it – the best they can. I kept asking myself “Why?”

While on my vacation, I kept up, as best I could, with my on-line life (much to my wife’s chagrin!) A theme that popped up was about the individualistic nature of today’s Jewish young people. They, it seems, want to know what Judaism and the Jewish community can do for them as individuals. What can the “we” do for “me”? Okay, in the context of the American ethos of hyper-individualism (sort of an extension of Ayn Rand’s concept of selfishness as a virtue), American Jews seem to strive for individual fulfillment in their Jewish identity. How does this inform the work we do as Jewish educators? How do we teach that “us” matters?

We’ve been mulling over the apparent failure of contemporary Jewish education. We’ve been trying to figure out how to make being a Jew in the 21^st century meaningful to the individual. Maybe we are focusing on the wrong thing. I’m not sure if the Jews of the future who are growing up today hear God the way we or our parents do: through ritual, B’nai Mitzvah, Hebrew, Israel. We need to find new hearing aids.

The lost souls of San Francisco’s Tenderloin district got me thinking about how holiness and community can be found by supporting the fallen, raising them from the doorways that are their beds. Perhaps creating Jewish schools of conscience, schools where mitzvot bein adam l'chavero – obligations relating to human interactions - are taught as being the essence of Jewish community, is a direction that we can take to help students hear God again. Maybe through teaching that together we can make a difference in the world, we would be providing the key that would help the one student join with the many, creating a compelling reason to be part of something larger. Conceivably, the concept of Klal Yisrael may need to be redefined as the Jewish path that starts with study, leads to action, and ends with a new and different world. Jewish, because inherent in this old-new Halacha is the word tzedek – justice.

Who knows? Maybe our children will find God living on Market Street.

Jewish Bifocals

2009-08-16T20:27:00.000-07:00

My kid, the youngest, Keren, is going to college tomorrow. I’ve spent the day helping her pack, buying last minute electronics (how can she NOT have a good speaker system hooked up to her MacBook?) and printer cartridges. I’m doing what I can to get her ready for the next chapter.

And I wonder – does she have the tools she will need to make choices about the world? Through which lenses will she observe and judge what is happening? How will she meet the future?

It got me thinking about how other kids are prepared to deal with the vicissitudes of society. What do we teach them, especially in religious/Hebrew school? What kids learn in many Jewish congregational schools today seems to be linked to religion. God. Holidays. Thou shall and Thou shall not. I’m not sure that’s what Judaism is all about. I think it’s more about how we live our lives. What we do. These are the lenses through which we see the world. Our job as Jewish parents and educators is to teach our kids how to see what goes on in the world from a Jewish perspective. Jewish bifocals if you will.

We need to find ways of teaching that acting Jewish doesn’t end with kashrut, or t’fillin, going to services or wearing kippot. These are the means. The ritual we teach, the way we celebrate and mourn; all serve as spiritual signposts pointing the way towards having a positive impact on the world. I call that Jewish Attitudinal Learning: Teaching Jewish values that touch our students’ lives today. Copping a Jewish attitude to help us decide how live. We need to supply our kids with the skills to confront the issues of the future.

As I drive the SUV we’re renting with all the boxes and refrigerator we’re putting in her dorm room, I’ll think about the choices she’ll be making. What will she do with the Jewish knowledge she’s garnered over the years? I’m hoping she’ll make the right choices – whatever those are. If you are into Harry Potter, you’ll recognize the image of portraits of wizards past, looking benignly upon the students of Hogwarts. I’m hoping that the images looking upon Keren and all our students are Jewish wizards who’ve laid the foundation for a future based on Jewish vision.

We Jewish educators – teachers and parents – are our children’s ophthalmologists. Hopefully we diagnosed correctly and wrote the right prescription.

Of Parking Meters and Particle Colliders

2009-08-09T15:27:00.000-07:00

At the beach I was flummoxed by technology. Once upon a time we’d go the shore, find a parking spot and deposit whatever loose change we had into the parking meter. There has been a revolution, though. The old fashioned parking meter was replaced by a computerized one, which now handles the entire lot. We keyed in our parking space number, deposited the requisite amount of quarters, and the meter remembered how much time we had. Cool! For some reason however, the-powers-that-be determined to revert to a hybrid system: No more parking numbers. We deposit our quarters and then (are you ready for this high tech solution?) we receive a paper receipt that we must place face-up on the driver’s side dash. It seems that the technological innovators of South Florida didn’t totally get what they were doing. It’s the old 1 step – 2 step shuffle. Backwards.

Recently I’ve read about the problems facing CERN’s Large Hadron Particle Collider - a piece of super advanced science equipment that was felled after only 9 days of operation by essentially an electrical short. So far it’s taken a year to figure out how to fix it. Sometimes I think modern technology is enthusiastically embraced without fully understanding the ramifications or consequences.

I’m not suggesting anything as luddite as to slow down. We need to progress. My question is if we’re moving too fast for everyone else? This morning’s NY Times had an article about the move into digital textbooks. You can find it here: http://www.nytimes.com/2009/08/09/education/09textbook.html?scp=4&sq=tamar%20lewin&st=cse. It’s not that it’s a bad idea. I embrace it, but the question (raised in the article) is what to do with kids who don’t have computers. Will the technology we need to utilize to move forward have an unintended side affect of creating a class of people who don’t have equal access - the educational haves and have-nots? We need to think this process through to its logical conclusion.

So how do we not repeat the mistake of the Delray Beach Ministry of Parking or CERN? How do we take control of the use of technology in our classrooms without paying a price? The particle collider costs something like $10 billion. The cost of our misusing technology or (worse) misunderstanding the ramifications of using these tools in the Jewish classroom is much higher. Yes, we’ll make mistakes and pay good money for them. This will not make our congregational funders pleased – they already have limited tolerance for trial and error anyway. But it’s the kids that concern me the most. I don’t think we want to lose an entire generation because we didn’t totally understand what we were doing.

As we travel into the yet uncharted void of the digital universe, it seems to me that we need to make sure of three things: That we are comfortable with the technology, that the teachers who will be the front line practitioners, understand how these tools work, and that the students don’t suffer from OUR growing pains. The kids will have no patience for our fumbling. On our journey, we need to tether our teachers and students with us. But the line needs to be short. We need to be able to reel them in quickly. We can’t lose them. The worst sin of an educator is irrelevance. It’s a price we can’t pay.

The Jewish future in 140 characters

2009-08-02T11:45:00.000-07:00

Twitter has been called overrated, overblown, narcissistic and a waste of time. I never bought into that. I knew that there was potential there. I felt that meaning and relevance could be found despite the plethora of celebrity tweets. Last week my patience was rewarded.

It began with a question about the recently released paper describing the L.A Bureau of Jewish Education's Jewish education concierge program. You can find it here: http://www.jesna.org/sosland/resources. The discussion that ensued concentrated at first on the relative merits and legitimacy of the program described in the piece. It quickly expanded into a far reaching conversation among a group of folks who are tenuously connected by at least 6 degrees. Some of us have never met one another – our first encounter being in the #JEd21 thread (in the twitterverse you can define discussion topics – this is what ours was named). Community, congregation and education and the role of technology was our focus.

What I loved about it was that we were taking on these weighty matters using a new technology and overcoming a major obstacle. What we wrote needed to be meaningful and very succinct, resulting in a lot of creative spelling. Also, in a sense I felt it mirrored a Talmudic debate, to the extent that it was asynchronous. We were conversing over time and space. The nature of the exchange reflected the topic. How does technology impact Jewish engagement? How does it change the way we see community, congregations, synagogues and education?

The very relevancy of synagogues in this brave new future we are creating was put into question. What is the definition of a synagogue: The building or the congregation? This morphed into a discussion about the difference between congregations and communities. Can a true community exist in a virtual universe? Does a congregational experience need to be exclusively “f2f” (face 2 face in twitterspeak). Should synagogues continue to be responsible for Jewish education, or are there new and better venues out there - in the concrete world or in the internet cloud? Is this an either/or proposition? Is it “brick vs. click” or “brick with click” as it was pithily tweeted? What are the responsibilities of the learner and the learning provider in this newly defined world?

I am not giving this 3 day tête-à-tête full justice. There was much more – go to twitter.com and search for #Jed21 and read up. My point is that we have already embarked on a journey into the cloud. I don’t know where it will take us, but I do think we will end up in a stronger and more vibrant place. When Yochanan ben Zakkai went to Yavneh, he and his followers were doing something outrageously revolutionary, ensuring a Jewish future. I wonder if the 21st century Ben Zakkai is even a human. I think that we may be starting a new chapter in what it means to Jewishly engaged and it’s being defined by an interface between people and machines.

Maybe even 140 characters at a time.

The point of teaching Hebrew is...?

2009-07-26T11:54:00.000-07:00

It’s been awhile since I’ve last written. I’ve been focusing on the tachlis of creating a meaningful learning experience for my students – the kids who will be attending the religious school I’m running.

I’ve been obsessing on Hebrew lately. What’s the purpose of teaching decoding to kids? Remember, reading implies comprehension. My guess is that most kids, despite our best efforts, really don’t understand (or don’t care about) the meaning of the Hebrew they’re reciting. They just mouth the sounds: ergo decoding. At the risk of sounding really cynical, I’m going to guess that a large chunk of the parents who send their kids to a congregational school do it for one main reason – to prevent performance anxiety. They want their kids to shine at their 13-year-old-coming-out-party. Is this the really the point of what we Jewish educators are doing?

The other day, my friend Adrian Durlestor sent out the following tweet: “how far over prevailing synagogue suppl sch rates can independent jewish suppl school reasonably charge?” It got me thinking about the purpose of congregational schools. It’s certainly NOT supplementary. The idea that our schools “supplement” what our kids learn at home became irrelevant probably in the 50’s or 60’s. Nowadays Jewish education is contracted out to Jewish educators. And the failure of the “supplementary school system” is that successfully performing at one’s bar/bat mitzvah is the definition of a good religious school education for many of the parents.

Where did we go wrong? I’m not sure the answer really matters. These parents who grew up in the congregational school system of the 70’s, 80’s and 90’s are just passing on to their children what their experiences taught them. It’s more where we go from here - which is what I’m struggling with.

Do we teach Hebrew so that the kids can decode their Torah portions without error, or because the Hebrew language is that which defines the Jewish people? Remember – back in the 3rd century BCE (!) the Torah was translated into Greek by 70 rabbis for the Greek speaking Jews of the Diaspora. I wonder if back then they were having the same conversation we’re having now about Hebrew education. What does this tell us about the goals of teaching Hebrew? Where do we put our energy? What should be the focus of whatever Hebrew instruction we implement? Given the realities of the amount of time we have the kids, what should we be aiming to accomplish?

Riding Two Horses At Once

2009-07-04T19:30:00.000-07:00

On Friday night I went to my synagogue’s “Blue Jean Shabbat”, during which we all ate hotdogs, drank Sam Adams beer and welcomed the Sabbath Bride, who was accompanied by Uncle Sam, in commemoration of Erev July 4. A happily serendipitous confluence of celebrations: both spiritual and political.

When I was growing up, my mom would recite a Hungarian saying: “You can’t ride 2 horses with one bottom (in Magyar the word for the bodily part is “segg”, which is slightly more graphic, but you get the point). How do we American Jews/Jewish Americans manage this feat? How do we reconcile our affinity to both promised lands, the one in the east and the one in the west?

This concerns me in light of recent political events in the Middle East; the ramifications of which I fear will come to roost here. There has always been more or less a condominium of interests between the governments of Israel and the United States. When things weren’t so lovey-dovey, like during the period of Bush the First and the loan guarantees issue, these divisions were swept under the rug as much as possible. With Obama’s call for a true just peace agreement between Israel and Palestine on the table, and with Israel’s political leadership minimizing the centrality of the Jewish settlement issue in reaching said peace agreement, are we fast approaching some type of conflict that will be harder to hide?

How to we teach loyalty to a country and an idea (Israel and Zionism) when the practical policies of that land have the potential of running counterpoint to the stated policies and values of the U.S. of A? I’m referring not just to the issues of Jewish settlement in the West Bank but also pending legislation that would limit freedom of speech in Israel for non-Jews and their Jewish sympathizers. Which horse do we ride? More to the point, which Israel do we teach? What vision of Israel do we want the next generation to embrace – that of Shas or Avigdor Lieberman or Tzippi Livni or Gershon Baskin?

More practically, who decides which vision to teach? In the constellation of the American Jewish organizational alphabet soup, who is the arbiter of truth?

I offer no answers - just a lot of questions that we will all need to confront in the weeks and months to come as we move towards peace or war in Israel/Palestine.

Zchut Avot, Michael and Farah

2009-06-26T14:22:00.000-07:00

I’ve been listening to the continuous reports on NPR about Michael Jackson’s tragic passing. Now it’s getting a tad scandalous. His physician’s car has been impounded and said physician is, at the moment, “unavailable” for questioning. Curiouser and curiouser. And I can’t help but think about poor Farah Fawcett. Her death is truly tragic, what with her public fight against cancer. No scandal there. Of course, in the shadow of Michael’s death, Farah’s demise has been relegated to footnote status.

All this brings me to the concept of Zchut Avot – roughly translated as “the merit of our ancestors”. In our Jewish tradition there is an intrinsic connection between those who came before us, the current generation, and those who will follow. The way we remember our predecessors should reflect the way we live our lives and how we teach our children.

My question is: How do we teach the proper way of respecting and honoring those upon whose shoulders we stand, in light of the manic media feeding frenzy we are witnessing on all things Michael and the peripheral coverage of Farah Fawcett? Is it honorable to constantly remember the weirdness that characterized one person’s life and ignore the poignancy of another’s? Doesn’t that sully both memories? Shouldn’t we strive to learn from whatever goodness can be found in both their truncated lives?

Michael Jackson’s gift to the world was music - beauty. Farah Fawcett gave the world a sense of grace, providing us a lesson in humanity in the face of tragic illness. This too is beauty. May their memories be for a blessing. Baruch Dayan HaEmet.

My pet fly, Vinnie.

2009-06-20T20:25:00.000-07:00

OMG!!! Obama killed a fly, and on network television yet!! This cruel act of arthropodocide raised the hackles of PETA, which proceeded to send the POTUS a humane fly catcher.

So my question is: Is there a point when our striving to be humane borders on the absurd?

Let me assure one and all that I was not the type of kid who used to pluck wings off of flies or legs off of daddy-long-legs or stomp on worms. I don’t even like to go fishing because I don’t eat freshwater fish. But, I’m sorry; when I heard about PETA’s reaction to the President’s act, I thought that it was a sentiment so sublime that it bordered on the irrelevant.

Flies, I know, are part of the ecosystem. Like mosquitoes and lice and deer ticks. They serve a purpose in the food chain. They also cause disease. We kill them because they can harm us. Malaria or cholera or lyme disease, anyone?

PETA gave Obama a humane fly-catcher. Let’s say he catches a fly. Then what does he do with it? Keep it as a pet? Call it Vinnie? Let it go? Where?

When we all stood at Sinai, we heard the Ten Utterances. One of them was that we are not allowed to murder. Doesn’t say don’t kill. Just don’t murder. We kill only in self defense: if we have no choice. Now, I know that this mitzvah concerns humans, not members of the class Insecta, but the way I figure it, if a mosquito lands on my arm, I’m gonna kill it. It’s not because I revel in exterminating bugs. I have no choice. Ever try to catch a mosquito? If I let it hang out on my arm, it’ll sting me. And that’ll not be good. Same thing goes with a fly. Also, I suppose I could make the argument that I don’t know where these flying creatures have been, and by killing these winged pests, I am potentially saving my life and the life of others. A form of self-defense if you will. It’s a stretch, but no more then humane fly catchers.

So…to all PETA supporters: Your hearts are in the right place, and I laud you. I think throwing paint on people wearing fur coats may be going a tad too far, but I understand where you’re coming from. Declaring that we humans should be vegetarians is also comprehensible, though I personally like meat too much. But go ahead with promoting your agenda. B’vakasha. But let’s be reasonable. Catching a fly? Methinks PETA doth protest too much.

Jewish Identity Crisis-Victim and Oppressor?

2009-06-12T07:53:00.000-07:00

On Wednesday some anti-Semite nut job tried to shoot up the Holocaust memorial. What I’d like us to think about is how we react to hate and how we teach our kids to respond to anti-Semitism. Facts are facts. Anti-Semites killed Jews. My dad has a number on his arm to prove it. We need to make sure that it doesn’t happen again. The question (here goes!) is: What is the price WE pay to fight anti-Semitism?

A story. As a former member if the Israel Defense Forces, I subsequently served a monthly stint every year in Miluyim (Israeli reserves). Sometimes I would find myself at a checkpoint outside of Eilat – Israel’s southern most city, and the only port city in the south. As such, it was considered a strategic asset, with special security protocols. We were commanded to “detain all those with an ‘eastern complexion.’” In Hebrew: “la’atzor kol echad im d’moot mizrachit”. So, being good soldiers, we followed orders. It got weird, as many of the guys in the unit were S’faradim (Jews of Mediterranean origins) and had dark skin, but we all knew what the order meant. You see an Arab. Pull him over. Take him off the bus.

Long-story short: An Eged bus came to our checkpoint. We got on. We checked the passengers’ I.Ds (those who looked Arab anyway). I got off the bus and saw that one of our guys had pulled off a gentleman with his wife. She was dressed in traditional Arab garb – a hijab and robe. And she was very very pregnant. He was from Jerusalem. He was okay. She was not. I think she came from Ramallah – in the West Bank. She didn’t have the proper papers. So she and her husband were not allowed to enter Eilat. I argued with my C.O. At least they gave her a chair to sit on, under the hot desert sun. They had to wait for a taxi to take them back north. I don’t think she was a terrorist.

What does fighting oppression do to us victims?

A few days ago, Brooklyn Assemblyman Dov Hikind of Brooklyn publicly declared that a memorial to the victims of Nazi genocide should only be in memory of Jews and not the other victims, such as Gays or the disabled. “To include these other groups diminishes their memory…These people are not in the same category as Jewish people with regards to the Holocaust…It is so vastly different. You cannot compare political prisoners with Jewish victims.” (http://www.nypost.com/seven/06082009/news/regionalnews/hikind__jews_only_173112.htm)
Tell that to my dad, whose barracks in Birkenau was directly across from the gypsies’ area. He remembers waking up to the shots and the screams as the Roma children were driven out to be burned. Assemblyman Hikind, where is your sense of all people being created B’tzelem Eloheem?

So what do we teach our kids? That only we Jews have a monopoly on suffering? That the world is against us and so we can do whatever we want to protect ourselves? Should we agree with Chabad Rabbi Manis Friedman, who wrote in the recent issue of Moment magazine that “The only way to fight a moral war is the Jewish way: Destroy their holy sites. Kill men, women and children (and cattle),”
(http://www.momentmag.com/Exclusive/2009/2009-06/200906-Ask_Rabbis.html)

What do we tell our kids? How do we teach them compassionate self-preservation? How do we, the victims, not turn into the oppressors?

The Tony Awards made me think...

2009-06-07T20:02:00.000-07:00

When I started out in Jewbiz back in ’93, I was hired to run a Reform-Conservative supplementary school, serving the needs of two neighboring synagogues separated only by three city blocks and one religious movement. The experiment was born out of financial need, and died for the some reason. The powers-that-be decided after 6 years that the combined school was no longer financially beneficial (the idea of creating community be damned) so the time had come to create separate schools.

What this teaches us is that in the current reality many think it is easier to make our own Shabbat. And you know what? Sometimes that works. Sometimes collaborating with another synagogue doesn’t work. Is that intrinsically bad? Torah Aura recently tweeted a link to a piece on cooperative schooling – which I guess is another way of saying community school. The referenced article waxed prosaic on sharing resources. Great, if it...works. But one size doesn’t fit all. Which means that making my own Shabbat doesn’t negate your Shabbat, and in fact may help you light the candles.

That being said, on the Tony awards one of the winners talked about the concept of Fine Arts – how that means that the craft of acting is constantly being tweaked and modified. That’s sort of like what we, as Jewish educators and passers-on-of-traditions, are doing, or should be doing. Looking at what we are transmitting and making sure it makes sense to those receiving our message.

Which brings me back to the question: how do we create meaningful opportunities for Jewish engagement in each of our communities? And what does the concept of engagement mean? What is Jewish Fine Arts?

The Fifth Child - the first question

2009-06-02T15:30:00.000-07:00

As a lurker in the Jewish blogosphere, it’s taken me a while to get the courage to stop being a voyeur, and to start getting into the thick of things - virtually speaking. So here goes:

Ladies and Gentlemen, may I present my first foray into blogging: “The Fifth Child”.

We’re familiar with the 4 sons of Passover: the wise, the wicked, the simple and the one who doesn’t even know how to ask. These characters are meant to teach us that we must recognize the different types of learners that cross our paths. I think that many of us (including yours truly) fits into a fifth category – a combination of all of the above. Sometimes I know something and want to find out more. Sometimes I revel in questioning authority. At times I really don’t know what’s going on. And then every once in a while I don’t even know how to ask. Ergo “The Fifth Child”.

I’ll be writing about questions I have that touch upon how the modern world interfaces with the Jewish past, present and future. With answers that you can provide, together we can explore ways that will enable us to transmit what we know (or think we know) to the next generation.

I start with a couple of (my) "givens":

1) Technology, such as twitter, Second Life and iPods, is poised to be the connective tissue that links tomorrow's Jews to Judaism and the Jewish community today.

2) Learning and teaching need to be experiential. The effectiveness of what has been dubbed “formal education” has been exposed to be a myth, especially in supplementary Jewish education. We understand that learning must involve doing, experiences.

Does anyone out there have other "givens"? Anyone disagree with mine? Let's start the conversation.

I think it’s time for tachlis…what works and what doesn’t. As a Jewish educator in a congregational setting, I am fascinated by how we can engage our students with their Jewish heritage. I’m not talking about ideas that can be applied the day after tomorrow (like my friend, Adrian Durlester’s idea of divorcing supplementary schools from synagogues. Check out his blog at migdalorguysblog.blogspot.com.) I want to know what we can do this afternoon, and tomorrow. What can we do to keep our students interested? What can we do to get the parents to park their cars and to come into the building? What works? What doesn’t?

The next question, of course, is what I mean by the concept of “our Jewish heritage”? Well, that’s the 64 thousand shekel question. I maintain that it is time for us to reevaluate what we are teaching. What (if any) role does the modern State of Israel play in the lives of 21^st century American Jews? Do denominations matter? And when you get down to it…what in tarnations IS a Jew anyway? In a world made up of what Joey Kurtzman of Jewcy.com called “Frankenjews” (www.jewcy.com/dialogue/2007-06-11/joey1), what does it mean to be a Member of the Tribe? How does it impact what we teach about ourselves and about the idea of Klal Yisrael?

I’ll stop here for now. If anyone is reading this, please respond – let’s start a discussion about what are the practical steps in creating a meaningful Jewish future.