Yom Yerushalayim

In the circles that I travel, the world has begun to buzz with Yom Yerushalayim. We have begun showing the students videos about Yerushalayim, we've had a Yom Iyun about the city and its importance, and we are planning a tiyul on Thursday to Yerushalayim. (By the way, an excellent book on the topic is Six Days of War. Reads like a novel!)

I cannot say that our students are unfazed by it. They certainly view the city as important and they definitely understand the importance of the day and the war 39 years ago. Still, this is another example of getting used to something and therefore losing the ability to recognize its true value.

I've written before about getting used to things. This time, I quoted a story that I saw on Rabbi Neil Fleischmann's outstanding website. More specifically, I told them the story that he wrote on this post.

When we focus on the wrong thing, we miss the point.

The story worked very well and the kids got the message: the focus should not be on what we've lost, on what we don't have in Yerushalayim, on what we cannot do. Rather, the focus is on the wheelbarrow: look how far we've come! Look what Hashem gave us!

Ask someone who knows nothing about the Six Day War, "How long do you think it took Israel to become victorious against the Egyptian army?" His first answer would probably be, "You made a mistake. You meant to ask ''How long do you think it took Egypt to become victorious against the Israeli army? After all, they had more money, more tanks, more planes."

After telling him that, in fact, Israel won the war, he may do the following calculation: "The United States has been in Iraq with 130,000 troops for more than 3 years. I think it took Israel 10 years."

"Lower," you say.

"OK, 3 years."

"Lower."

"1 year, that's my final offer."

You say, "Throw in the Syrian Army. And the Jordanian army. And the financial, political, and military support of more than a dozen other nations."

If you said that Israel was victorious against these odds, your friend would think you're either drunk, joking, or stupid.......And you haven't even told him that it took 6 days.

Put in that perspective, it's hard not to recognize Hashem's hand in this most improbable victory. It's hard not to celebrate.

Role Modeling in Chinuch, Parenting, Politics, etc.

One of the most important things for a parent or a teacher to remember is that our students watch us. They scrutinize us. They study us. Whether we like it or not, it is so. Whether they know it or not, it is so.

They watch they way we speak, the way we daven, the way we interact with other teachers, with the secretary, etc. etc.

The Gemara recognizes this in a variety of places:

Students are told to learn only from a teacher who is pure (Moed Katan 17a)
Teachers must exercise care to refrain from a practice which others cannot correctly emulate. (Niddah 20a-b)
“Watching one's teacher increases one's sharpness” (Eruvin 13b)
By simply observing one’s teacher individual practices of the commandments can be learned. (Pesachim 100a)

We have a teacher in the school who does not own a car. He relies on carpools and hitchhikes (tremps) to get to school. Most of the time he comes to school late. Since his first responsibility is tefilla, most mornings he comes to tefilla late. He could explain to his students why he comes late and I think he has spoken to them about it. But the bottom line is this: if he comes late, why can’t they? Why us it so important to come on time to tefilla if my Rebbe comes late?

And they’re right.

In a somewhat-related issue, I saw this in the Jerusalem Post on May 18. It would be funny if it weren’t sad. Let’s not complain when our kids copy us!

Israel's pack-a-day smoking health minister, Ya'acov Ben-Yizri will present his Annual Report on Smoking - as required by law - to the public on May 31, the country's No-Smoking Day.
The event will not be marked by any special activities as it usually is, because of "cuts in the ministry's information budget," the ministry spokeswoman said on Wednesday.

The 78-year-old new minister said that he "is interested in the smoking cessation programs that the Health Ministry and the Israel Cancer Association offer. But at the same time, after decades of smoking, it is very difficult" for him to quit. Ben-Yizri's wife Hava said at the ceremony in which he was welcomed into office two weeks ago that she would be happy if he quit smoking.
Ben-Yizri, who has a nonagenarian mother, said he has been smoking a pack a day since he was 18. His only concession to good health is that, being a traditional Jew, he has never smoked on Shabbat. But he admitted that when Shabbat nears its conclusion, he feels the pangs of nicotine addiction.

The minister committed himself to avoid smoking when seen in public -although he has already been interviewed on TV while smoking in a car.

Ben-Yizri also said that since he works 15 or 16 hours a day as minister and is constantly in meetings where smoking is barred by
workplace laws, he has cut down his smoking by about half. Ben-Yizri said he "identifies" with the health message of the Health Ministry and the ICA that smoking is the world's primary preventible cause of death, "especially among young people."Fully 76 percent of the Israeli public do not smoke, but the ICA wants to minimize the smoking rate even further, as 10,000 Israelis die of smoking-related causes each year - about 2,000 of these are not smokers themselves but are exposed to second-hand smoke.

ICA spokeswoman Nava Inbar said that the association has received numerous complaints from citizens about the health minister's smoking. "I think that as a public figure and minister who recognizes the war against smoking as an integral part of health promotion, it's important that he serve as a personal example. No-Smoking Day is coming, and it would be a good time for him to quit," she suggested.
Health Ministry deputy director-general for information Yair Amikam said the minister promised "to seriously consider the possibility of quitting, and he will follow the existing techniques and may join one of them."

Traveling to America.... Spouseless

My wife just booked tickets to travel to America in June for a bat mitzvah of a niece. Very nice.

Aside from the general observation that it's a pain in the neck to be separated from my wife, and aside from the other general observation that it's hard being Mr. Mom and working, and aside from the general observation that I really, really appreciate my wife's hard work whenever she leaves..... there is a particular observation that I'd like to share.

It seems that a common part of living in Israel and of making Aliyah is the fact that, usually, part of the family stays behind. So the formula that seems to be an integral component of living here repeats itself in various permutations. Ours is this: We have the bat mitzvah of a niece coming up. We cannot all attend due to financial constraints, and due to our requirement to be at work and school. On the other hand, we have a brother to whom we feel close who is making a simcha. We have a sister-in-law to whom we feel close who is making a simcha. We have a niece to whom we feel close who is celebrating a simcha. We have our children's' cousin to whom they feel close who is celebrating a simcha. We have parents to whom we feel close who's granddaughter and children who are making a simcha.

So how can we not go?

So some representative travels for the simcha. The family here "suffers" (big word, slight exaggeration, but we will definitely be effected). The bank account "suffers" (big word, slight exaggeration, but we our bank account will definitely be effected).

There is the oft-repeated comment, "You'd go if it were not a simcha, chas v'shalom." True. Or we hear, "What is money for if not to be spent for family?" True.

Still, it's a pain to be separated from my wife. And it's a pain being Mr. Mom and working. And I really, really do appreciate my wife's hard work whenever she leaves.

And this is repeated in many homes of Olim throughout Israel.

It's part of kibbutz galuyot.

Lag Ba'Omer (iii)

OK. Maybe I overdid it a bit.

Yes there were an incredible amount of fires (my daughter counted 47 separate bonfires when she drove with a friend around our neighborhood). And yes people did get hurt (I think I read that a student in Bnei Brak was severly injured and others around the country were injured too). And yes even in the few fires that I saw there were many unsupervised little kids (3rd graders??).

But I must say that I was very pleasantly surprised by the couple of bonfires that I went to with my family and students. There is something warm about being around a fire with nice singing, nice achdut, nice divrei Torah, nice food!

I still don't understand exactly what this fire thing is all about, but, if it's done safely, who am I to say that it's a bad thing!

Lag Ba'Omer 5766 (ii)

I'm still ranting about the ridiculous bonfires around here. More than one person has told me that I need to close my windows in my house tonight so that the smoke from all the bonfires doesn't come in.

Local fire stations have made it their business these last few days to educate children about fire safety. Our local station decided that the best way to do that is by burning a car in front of the kids - yes, an entire car - and then put it out with a hose. I think, unfortunately, that it had the opposite effect!

This site claims that there is a 200% rise in burn accidents among children in Israel on and near Lag Ba'Omer. This site has some very good suggestions for preventing injuries..... but I think that it's pretty interesting to put a picture of a huge bonfire with a raging fire on a page trying to encourage kids to be careful of fires. This site also has the 200% statistic and a raging fire. The sites of injuries and preventions go on and on.

I'm all for fun but this is ridiculous.

(After reviewing this post, I am surprised at how old I sound. Oy.)

Lag Ba’Omer 5766

Not a lengthy nor original post. But an observation nonetheless:

Lag Ba’Omer in Israel, (at least the part that I see as a teacher, a father, and a neighbor) is one big pyromaniac’s dream come true. For the last few weeks, it is a daily occurrence to see child after child shlepping, dragging, hauling, towing, pulling, pushing, lugging, tugging, carrying, carting, lifting, and anything else you can imagine anything that is both a) not bolted into the ground and b) anything that is flammable. You see piles of firewood, planks, sticks, boards, and whatever else on people’s porches, backyards, and driveways.

I don’t get it.

On four separate occasions I saw a number of kids trying to get some kind of tree (not a branch, not “firewood”... a tree) down the street. Twice I tried to stop and help them shlep it with my minivan (why not be an accomplice to minors burning something?) and the tree was too big! I wish I was exaggerating.

This whole thing reminds me of Purim and getting drunk. In other words, sure there is a nice idea of bonfires on Lag BaOmer (just as there are certain sources to getting tipsy in a controlled, supervised way). But this takes it to an entirely new level.

Am I getting old or is this crazy?

Worlds Contrasted

Gaps between Israeli's and Anglos are nothing new. Students in Israel learning for the year eat out in restaurants more than their Israeli counterparts, they dress differently than their Israeli counterparts and they travel (return to the US or wherever for Pesach, parents coming here, etc.) more than their Israeli counterparts.

In the high school where I am now, the gap seems to be even wider. I spoke to a native Israeli boy last week in the 9th grade who is flying to Eilat with his father for a conference. This is the first time in his life that he is both a) going to Eilat and b) flying on an airplane. Today I spoke to an Ethiopian boy who came to Israel only 5 years ago. In Ethiopia he was a shepherd. Full time. At the end of every day, he had bring water back for his family so they could cook and wash. His decision every day was whether he should buy water from the well (healthy and convenient but expensive) or to take for the lake (free but less convenient with uncertain health concerns). He never saw indoor plumbing or a cell phone (and he never spoke on any phone) until he came to Israel. When his teacher taught about the 39 Melachot of Shabbat, he spoke at length about baking bread - from cutting the wheat all the way to baking bread in a communal oven.

On the other end of the spectrum, we have a boy whose bar-mitzvah was at the King David Hotel and another boy who travels to America for every chag and for the summer.

Teaching kids from such different backgrounds is both exhilarating and incredibly difficult at the same time.

Misrad Hachinuch Woes

(The title of this post is a bit misleading. The complaint I have applies, if I am not mistaken, to a number of educational institutions and networks.)

I just found out that I am being fired.

OK. That's very misleading too. I will be fired. Over the summer.


But that's misleading too. All of the teachers in my school (with the exception of one) are being fired too. I include the principal. He is being fired too.

But that's misleading too. I'm being a bit melodramatic. I knew I was getting fired and, in my letter, the principal (yes, the principal who is getting fired needs to fire himself!) said how much he loved working with me and how he intends to rehire me next year!

Many, many, many teachers in Israel are being fired this summer, only to be rehired in the Fall. That way, the year we worked does not count towards receiving k'viyut (tenure). In other words, if a teacher were to be hired all year round, after a few years (I have no idea how many) s/he receive tenure and impossible to really fire.

It happens everywhere: My friend's wife has taught in a major Israeli university for 10 years and only last summer wasn't fired!

A part of me understands the idea: if the teacher unions continue to insist on tenure – and continue to insist on an easy path to tenure – the schools have no choice but to take matters in their own hands to prevent people from attaining tenure unless they are really, really, really sure that they like them and NEVER want to fire them!

On the other hand, it is nuts and insulting and frustrating and demoralizing to be "laid off" every year.

Oy.

Yom Haatzmaut 5766

There are so many thoughts running through my head from these last few days. Some random thoughts and observations:

- This first observation is nothing new, but important to state: I remember Rabbi G. and Rabbi P. and Mrs. L. in elementary school and Rabbi H. in high school always talking about moving to Israel. I remember thinking then, "If it's so great and important, why don't you move there?" As I got older, and began to feel the financial, professional and familial pressures, I understood that one could love Israel and really plan to move there without being there just yet. Still, I have to admit that I felt a bit of a hypocrite in America on Yom Haatzmaut. We weren't in Israel even though we could go if we wanted to. Singing on that day and saying Hallel on that day and eating falafel on that day and saying "Chag Sameach" on that day.... I did it all and felt a bit strange. Very strange.

And this year... here we are. The incredible feeling of "We made it" were palpable. I don't know if I could honestly say that they erased all the hard times we've had here, but it really was special. Singing shoulder to shoulder with other people that "made it" and looking at slides at a shul program of early settlers, soldiers, and statesman... I got goose bumps.

- A part of me feels a little bad for my children. Let me rephrase that: a part of me – the part that thinks about their language acclimation, distance from cousins and friends, and detachment from the house that they were born in - feels a lot bad for my children (of course that might just be projection!). But another part of me feels a little bad for them. For as long as I can remember, my family, friends and schools have focused me towards moving to Israel. When I began dating, I only dated women who were interested in moving to Israel. When our first child was born, we made the conscious decision to speak in English because we knew that we'd be in Israel and Hebrew would not be a problem. (A little contrarian no? There are other reasons, but that's for another time). To buy a car or lease? To buy a house or rent? To invest in long-term stocks? Whole life insurance or term? All these decisions and more were weighed against the possibility that perhaps this is the year that we move to Israel and the repercussions that that move would have on these kinds of things.

And now I feel that I may have "taken" that away from my kids. Sure I can do my best to help them appreciate Eretz Yisrael and how fortunate we are to live here etc. But that's very different than copnveying a life-long drive to give up the comforts of America (or wherever you come from) and coming to Israel. In some ways, I feel bad - and worried - for my kids that they will miss out on that experience and those feelings. On the other hand, I would rather have it this way than being in America with those feelings!

- Last week, I also felt an incredible connection to the people of Israel. That is, a feeling that "we are all in this together." We all live here - Ashkenazim, Sfaradim, Israelis, Anglos, Old, Young, etc. - and we're all in it together. I suppose we are supposed to feel that all the time and I try to. But Yom Haatzmaut really brought it out for me.

Yom Hazikaron 5766 (i)

Yom Hazikaron is placed very very appropriately in the Jewish calendar: during the Omer – between Pesach and Shavuot, where the process of growing, building one day upon the next is highlighted.

Yom Hazikaron is on the day right before Yom Ha’atzmaut.

The American version of Memorial Day is punctuated by picnics, outings and mattress sales. For most of us - and we are extremely fortunate that this is so - the American version of Memorial Day is not a sad or somber day. We go about our business - happy to have a long weekend off from school and from work. It's not a sad day because - and again, we are very fortunate that this is so - most of us do not know someone who gave his or her life in the armed services. Most of us do not even know a family that lost a loved one in an American war.

It is perhaps for this reason that the American version of Memorial Day is separated from Independence Day by more than a month.

Israel - Israelis – Jews - do not have that luxury. First Yom Hazikaron, then Yom Haatzmaut. The festivity is predicated on retrospection: First we remember, reflect… then we celebrate, rejoice. Whatever we do, we remember that our lives are being spared because of the blood spilled before us.

Just before Yom Haatzmaut, we remember that though we rejoice and delight in the rebuilding of our country – our homeland – was built with the blood of our friends: sons and daughters who will never see their parents, the fathers and mothers who will never see their children.

Today, we grieve for our communal loss; we recognize what it took and what it takes to build our home; we appreciate the contributions that were made and that are continually made by the men and women of Tzahal.

And we think about the sacrifice that thousands – millions - have made for Eretz Yisrael. And we think about what sacrifice each of us can make in our daily lives to dedicate our lives to the ideals and ideas that these soldiers lived and died for.

And we think: for what would we be willing to die? For what do we live?

In many ways, it is just as important to live as a Jew, as it is to die as a Jew.

May Hashem comfort the families of the thousands of young men who died al kiddush Hashem. Min Hashamayim t’nachamu.

The Night After Visiting Day II

Libby Bamizrach: First of all, look at my comment to the last post about responding to readers' comments.

Secondly, you wrote, "...as the relative in chuz laaretz we feel just as badly if not worse when we leave Israel. We have the double heart-ache of leaving our loved ones AND the place that we know we belong. Maybe you can take some solace in that!"

I appreciate the fact that many of our relatives feel that way too. I could have guessed that they feel that way, but I guess we were so caught up in the way we feel, that I forgot how they felt saying goodbye to us!

I've written before about how we need "cheerleading." It's probably true to say that everyone - in all walks of life who live in any country in the world - need "cheerleading" at some point in their lives. We're not unique in that way. So, thanks for your cheerleading.

I would also add that I found this time of year - Yom Hazikaron and Yom Haatzmaut - hard to be in America. In other words, to be here, with the Israeli flags on every car, speeches in every town, fireworks in the park, barbeques in backyards, parades in the streets, images in the papers (from 1948, 1967, 1973, and from othere iconic times and figures such as Golda Meir, Menbachem Begin, even Ilan Ramon and Gal Fridman) - all these things remind me why we're here. It was hard to be in the States and celebrating Israel. I'm not saying it's impossible, but it felt strange. All these things serve as "cheerleaders" for me too.