Some recent events have forced Eeees and I to have a talk with Walter, our oldest, about birds, bees and other similar topics. He is approaching an age where he has to learn to cope with certain urges and understand certain feelings that his body is giving him. He has to learn how to properly deal with women and what are the healthy and unhealthy ways of dealing with them.
During the conversation, the topic took a detour from him to his classmates. To be honest, I was kind of surprised to hear the things that I heard. I've been told that the vast majority of his classmates spend a fair amount of their free time discussing "hot babes" with each other. Some of them have pictures of "hot babes" on their cellphones, including some that are unclothed. Many of them, it seems, have seen movies or television shows that are highly inappropriate (IMHO) for thirteen-year-old boys. All this in a yeshiva that, while, not at the outmost fringes of the right-wing is certainly on that side of center.
To be honest, I'm kind of shocked and a bit angry. I'm shocked that there are parents that are so clueless as to what their children are doing. I'm not saying that Walter is an angel -- heaven knows (pun intended) that he's not -- he's got his own teenage issues to deal with -- but I can honestly say that we have a pretty good handle on what he sees, listens to and reads, and we do screen for inappropriate material. We didn't let him see the latest (fourth) Harry Potter movie because we felt the bath scene with Moaning Myrtle was somewhat inappropriate for his age. Maybe in another year or two... but not yet. I know that most (all?) of his classmates have no doubt seen it. One kid in his class carries around episodes of Family Guy (a funny show, but not for kids) on his MP3 player. The kids in the class talk about Borat (they saw Borat??!!) and some of the reported homosexual content in the movie (I haven't seen it, so I can't comment on it one way or the other. However, according to the report from CommonSenseMedia, it's fairly explicit).
Do parents know what their kids are doing? My son sometimes complains that we won't let him watch this or that. But in the end, we believe that it's for his benefit and that he'll thank us in the end. After all, isn't that what responsible parents do -- shield their children from things that are inappropriate?
I'm also a bit angry, but I suppose that it's somewhat my own fault. I'm angry because for years the yeshiva has been making me feel (or, perhaps more correctly, I've been *allowing* the yeshiva to make me feel) like a sub-standard parent because we have a television in the home and we allow our kids to watch DVDs, read secular books, etc. But now, I see what other kids in the class are doing and, with perhaps one other exception, I find that our child is probably the most "shielded" kid in the class -- and I'm angry. I'm angry because (a) I feel like I've been stigmatized by the administration for no reason and (b) instead of needing to screen the other kids from mine, I find now that all along it's been my kid who has been needing screening from the other kids! And yet, Eeees and I were the ones who were told that we run a "liberal household" by a former principal at the school. If only he knew what would become of this class five years later!
I just don't get it. Who is in the wrong here? The "good parents" who "don't have a television" or "don't watch movies" but have their kids watching things that are highly inappropriate and who have pornographic pictures on their cell phones; or me, who openly has a television, who openly goes to movies (although my kids don't) and who does his level best our guide our children in what they should watch and see and try to teach them that some media are just inappropriate for them at the present time?
The Wolf
Showing posts with label standards. Show all posts
Showing posts with label standards. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
Monday, February 26, 2007
Average Kids
Rabbi Horowitz had an article last week (OK, so I'm somewhat slow...) about kids who are average learners (even if they are excellent in middos and yiddishkeit) finding it more and more difficult to get into mainstream yeshivos. More and more often, these kids are being pushed into "alternative" yeshivos where they are often grouped together with "at risk" kids when, in reality, they don't suffer from the same problems that many at-risk kids suffer from.
As the parent of an eighth grader who is less than stellar in Gemorah, his article certainly struck a chord within me. Eeees and I were dreading the high-school application process because we knew that our son was average at best in Gemorah.
Maybe it's because we didn't apply to schools like Mirrer, Chaim Berlin, Torah V'Da'as, etc., but it seems that B"H, we were matzliach. He applied to four schools of a more "modern" bent (how I hate that word in that context) and he was accepted into three of them.
Sadly, the way Rabbi Horowitz reports it, it's a vicious cycle -- parents demand more excellence, so more "average" kids get left out. As the schools are increasingly populated only with excellent students, the average is pulled ever higher.
Truth to tell, I think that it is the responsibility of parents to try to find the best school that their son will fit in, and not necessarily the best school. We certainly could have applied to a school such as the type I listed above, and who knows, maybe he would have gotten into one -- but he certainly wouldn't be happy there. He needs a school that will work with him on his level of learning, challenge him to grow in learning to the best of his abilities and provide direction for post-graduate learning -- in limudei kodesh AND limudei chol. Simply going for the "best" school because of fear of losing social standing or future shidduch issues is incredibly counter-productive and the harm that you can cause a child far outweighs the benefits. Engaging in such behavior does far more to put a kid "at risk" then sending him to a yeshiva that accepts "average" students.
The Wolf
As the parent of an eighth grader who is less than stellar in Gemorah, his article certainly struck a chord within me. Eeees and I were dreading the high-school application process because we knew that our son was average at best in Gemorah.
Maybe it's because we didn't apply to schools like Mirrer, Chaim Berlin, Torah V'Da'as, etc., but it seems that B"H, we were matzliach. He applied to four schools of a more "modern" bent (how I hate that word in that context) and he was accepted into three of them.
Sadly, the way Rabbi Horowitz reports it, it's a vicious cycle -- parents demand more excellence, so more "average" kids get left out. As the schools are increasingly populated only with excellent students, the average is pulled ever higher.
Truth to tell, I think that it is the responsibility of parents to try to find the best school that their son will fit in, and not necessarily the best school. We certainly could have applied to a school such as the type I listed above, and who knows, maybe he would have gotten into one -- but he certainly wouldn't be happy there. He needs a school that will work with him on his level of learning, challenge him to grow in learning to the best of his abilities and provide direction for post-graduate learning -- in limudei kodesh AND limudei chol. Simply going for the "best" school because of fear of losing social standing or future shidduch issues is incredibly counter-productive and the harm that you can cause a child far outweighs the benefits. Engaging in such behavior does far more to put a kid "at risk" then sending him to a yeshiva that accepts "average" students.
The Wolf
Tuesday, February 13, 2007
Standards, Expectations and Unconditional Love -- What's the Right Mix?
This weekend, I made a trip up to YU for the annual SOY Seforim sale. One of the books that I picked up is Off the Derech by Faranak Margolese, which I am finding truly fascinating. So far, I've finished the first seventy pages or so and am eagerly looking forward to the rest.
One of the main points that Ms. Margolese makes early in the book is that people leave observant Judaism not because of intellectual issues (Science/Torah and the like), but primarily because of emotional issues. Adolescents can gain a negative emotional view of Judaism from parents, teachers, school administrators and friends. These factors together can contribute to a person's decision to "ditch" observance of the mitzvos as they get older - regardless of any belief in the historicity of the Revelation at Sinai or the Creation story as told in B'raishis (Genesis).
One of the factors that is brought up is the need of children to feel loved unconditionally. She brings a few anecdotes of people who felt that their parents' love for them was conditional on the level of their observance (whether that was actually the case or not). Because they felt that their parents wouldn't love them as much if they weren't observant, Judaism developed as a negative in their minds as adolescents and was (in their own admissions) a part of the reason that they strayed from observance of the mitzvos.
I can certainly understand the need for a child (including adolescents) to feel that they are loved without reservation. As a child, friends may come and go, teachers may be good one year and bad the next, this year's well-loved or well-hated principal may be out the door next year, but parents (barring the truly drastic of life events) are just about the only constants in a child's life. They are (or should be) the one place that a child knows that they can turn to no matter how bad things become. Parents are that last thrown life preserver in a child's life when stormy seas threaten to engulf them. In short, children need to know that when the chips are down, their parents are there for them.
On the other hand, there is much to be said for maintaining standards and expectations of a child. One example that Ms. Margolese brings is of a girl whose father would ask her in the morning if she davened. If she replied no, then he would tell her to go daven. However, since she was not particularly interested in davening, she would simply go up to her room, read for about half an hour, and then come back down and tell her father that she davened.
Now, as parents, I do believe that we have a right (and indeed a responsibility) to set standards and expectations for our children. We have an obligation to tell them what behavior is considered acceptable and which is not considered acceptable. Who among us wouldn't try to reprimand our teens if they were caught stealing? Certainly we would go about it in different ways -- one parent may try the "soft approach," another parent a stricter approach and yet another with a mixed message. Not all responses are valid or correct, of course, but we would all agree that *some* measures are called for. Only the most irresponsible parents would take no action at all.
Well, just as we impose standards for behavior in the realm of bein adam l'chaveiro (relationships between people), we also set standards for behavior in the realm of bein adam lamakom (relationships between man and God). When my children are older, they will have to know, for example, that I will not allow them to bring chametz into the house on Pesach. They will know that I expect them to daven and learn every day. I expect him not to sacrifice his little sister to Molech. In short, I expect a certain minimum commitment to the observance of the mitzvos. Of course, if he does more -- all the more power to him; but a minimum is expected. I believe that children need standards in order to achieve... and that applies to all realms, academic, behavioral, religious, extra-curricular, you name it.
Of course, the question then becomes how to express your expectations and make them stick without endangering the security of the child's knowledge of the parent's unconditional love. You can't just sit your kid down and tell him "Walter*, we expect you to do A, B and C, but even if you don't we still love you," because such a statement lacks the force that is necessary to tell the kid what you expect of him. It's weasly and wishy-washy.
Of course, as adults, we can separate love and approval as two separate concepts, but I'm not so certain that most adolescents can emotionally make that distinction. You can try to explain it to them, but I don't know if (at the younger ages of adolescence especially) they can really distinguish between the two. I can tell an adult that I may still love him or her even if I don't accept what they are doing. Heck, I love my mother, but I strongly disapprove of her life-long smoking habit. She knows my feelings on the matter of her smoking -- she has for a long, long time, but she also knows that I love her unconditionally. But if I ever (God forbid) caught my kid smoking (something I don't expect too -- I think we've well ingrained the anti-smoking message into our kids), I could probably tell him the same thing I tell my mother, but I don't think he'd react the same way - one is a teen and the other is nearing sixty. My mother is much, much more mature than my son - and can understand disapproval of an action much better than Walter can.
In the end, we don't want our children to go off the derech. I think that among those of us that are observant, having our children become observant is a major goal in life - if not (for some) the most important goal. But we don't want to create an atmosphere that is so overbearing that the child will rebel at the first opportunity. We want to infuse them with a Yiddishkeit that is positive, not negative. On the other hand, we don't want to give blanket approval for any and all behavior. Adoniyah turned out the way he did, the Navi tells us, because Dovid never bothered to correct him on his behavior. As usual, there has to be a happy medium somewhere in the middle. It's up to us to find that exact message.
The Wolf
* No, Walter isn't our son's name. But it is one of any number of nicknames that we sometimes call our kids.
One of the main points that Ms. Margolese makes early in the book is that people leave observant Judaism not because of intellectual issues (Science/Torah and the like), but primarily because of emotional issues. Adolescents can gain a negative emotional view of Judaism from parents, teachers, school administrators and friends. These factors together can contribute to a person's decision to "ditch" observance of the mitzvos as they get older - regardless of any belief in the historicity of the Revelation at Sinai or the Creation story as told in B'raishis (Genesis).
One of the factors that is brought up is the need of children to feel loved unconditionally. She brings a few anecdotes of people who felt that their parents' love for them was conditional on the level of their observance (whether that was actually the case or not). Because they felt that their parents wouldn't love them as much if they weren't observant, Judaism developed as a negative in their minds as adolescents and was (in their own admissions) a part of the reason that they strayed from observance of the mitzvos.
I can certainly understand the need for a child (including adolescents) to feel that they are loved without reservation. As a child, friends may come and go, teachers may be good one year and bad the next, this year's well-loved or well-hated principal may be out the door next year, but parents (barring the truly drastic of life events) are just about the only constants in a child's life. They are (or should be) the one place that a child knows that they can turn to no matter how bad things become. Parents are that last thrown life preserver in a child's life when stormy seas threaten to engulf them. In short, children need to know that when the chips are down, their parents are there for them.
On the other hand, there is much to be said for maintaining standards and expectations of a child. One example that Ms. Margolese brings is of a girl whose father would ask her in the morning if she davened. If she replied no, then he would tell her to go daven. However, since she was not particularly interested in davening, she would simply go up to her room, read for about half an hour, and then come back down and tell her father that she davened.
Now, as parents, I do believe that we have a right (and indeed a responsibility) to set standards and expectations for our children. We have an obligation to tell them what behavior is considered acceptable and which is not considered acceptable. Who among us wouldn't try to reprimand our teens if they were caught stealing? Certainly we would go about it in different ways -- one parent may try the "soft approach," another parent a stricter approach and yet another with a mixed message. Not all responses are valid or correct, of course, but we would all agree that *some* measures are called for. Only the most irresponsible parents would take no action at all.
Well, just as we impose standards for behavior in the realm of bein adam l'chaveiro (relationships between people), we also set standards for behavior in the realm of bein adam lamakom (relationships between man and God). When my children are older, they will have to know, for example, that I will not allow them to bring chametz into the house on Pesach. They will know that I expect them to daven and learn every day. I expect him not to sacrifice his little sister to Molech. In short, I expect a certain minimum commitment to the observance of the mitzvos. Of course, if he does more -- all the more power to him; but a minimum is expected. I believe that children need standards in order to achieve... and that applies to all realms, academic, behavioral, religious, extra-curricular, you name it.
Of course, the question then becomes how to express your expectations and make them stick without endangering the security of the child's knowledge of the parent's unconditional love. You can't just sit your kid down and tell him "Walter*, we expect you to do A, B and C, but even if you don't we still love you," because such a statement lacks the force that is necessary to tell the kid what you expect of him. It's weasly and wishy-washy.
Of course, as adults, we can separate love and approval as two separate concepts, but I'm not so certain that most adolescents can emotionally make that distinction. You can try to explain it to them, but I don't know if (at the younger ages of adolescence especially) they can really distinguish between the two. I can tell an adult that I may still love him or her even if I don't accept what they are doing. Heck, I love my mother, but I strongly disapprove of her life-long smoking habit. She knows my feelings on the matter of her smoking -- she has for a long, long time, but she also knows that I love her unconditionally. But if I ever (God forbid) caught my kid smoking (something I don't expect too -- I think we've well ingrained the anti-smoking message into our kids), I could probably tell him the same thing I tell my mother, but I don't think he'd react the same way - one is a teen and the other is nearing sixty. My mother is much, much more mature than my son - and can understand disapproval of an action much better than Walter can.
In the end, we don't want our children to go off the derech. I think that among those of us that are observant, having our children become observant is a major goal in life - if not (for some) the most important goal. But we don't want to create an atmosphere that is so overbearing that the child will rebel at the first opportunity. We want to infuse them with a Yiddishkeit that is positive, not negative. On the other hand, we don't want to give blanket approval for any and all behavior. Adoniyah turned out the way he did, the Navi tells us, because Dovid never bothered to correct him on his behavior. As usual, there has to be a happy medium somewhere in the middle. It's up to us to find that exact message.
The Wolf
* No, Walter isn't our son's name. But it is one of any number of nicknames that we sometimes call our kids.
Wednesday, February 07, 2007
Punishing Children for the Parent's Misdeeds
Vos Iz Neias is reporting that the children of one of the attendees of the Iranian holocaust conference have been kicked out of their school in Vienna and their father has been told that they will not be welcome in any schools in Austria.
Now, I'll be the first to admit that this is only based on one side of the story and that not all of the facts are in. However, if the plain facts of the story as presented are true (i.e. that his children were asked to leave because of his attendance), then the school is making a grave mistake.
I think we can all understand the need to ostracize someone who participates in an event such as the Iranian holocaust conference. I am in full favor of asking him to leave his shul, not giving him any kibbudim in the community, etc. I think that any and all non-violent measures should be taken against the people who participated in that event.
However, the punishment has to start and end with him alone. Punishing his children for acts that they had no control over is completely wrong. And yes, I'll agree that having his children in school is a convenience to him; but, nonetheless, the fact remains that the expulsion punishes the children for something that is completely not their fault.
The same principle can be applied to many of the yeshivos here in America. Many yeshivos today would threaten to kick children out (or refuse admission) for things that are not their fault. One such case happened with me personally -- my parents are divorced and my father is not frum. When looking for a yeshiva for me in Brooklyn after the divorce, my ba'alas t'shuva mother found that one yeshiva would only admit me on condition that I wasn't allowed any contact with my father. In another case that I am aware of, a family was threatened with expulsion from a yeshiva because they had a dog. They were told that "either the hunt goes, or you go." Considering that I went to the same yeshiva at the same time, I should consider myself lucky... we had two dogs!
But the fact of the matter is that punishing children with expulsion because of their parents' level of observance, because of household factors over which the children have no control (and, furthermore won't "corrupt" other children -- how is having a dog a danger to classmates?) is wrong - for several reasons:
Firstly, it's wrong because punishing someone for something that have no control over is simply wrong.
Secondly, it can potentially turn a child off to Judaism. Seriously, would you want to belong to a society where you will be ostracized by something your relatives may do tomorrow and over which you have no control? Do you want your children thrown out of yeshiva because your brother decides to marry a non-Jew? Or because your sister doesn't cover her hair? Of course not - every person wants to be judged on his or her own merits - not the deeds of others.
Thirdly, we see that even in the Torah there are cases where a punishment is set aside because it would affect his children. A classic example is an eid zommeim (a specific type of false witness) who gives testimony that so-and-so the Kohen's mother is a divorcee and that he is therefore not a Kohen. If he is proven to be an eid zommeim, he should be subject to the same penalty that he tried to subject the person to - i.e. that he (and his children) should be considered non-Kohanim (assuming that they were Kohanim to begin with). However, the Gemara points out that the Torah says to punish *him* and not his children - and so the punishment to him is altered to one that punishes only him and not his children.
So, to sum up, I have no problem with punishing someone who went to this conference; but the punishment has to start and end with him - not his children.
The Wolf
Now, I'll be the first to admit that this is only based on one side of the story and that not all of the facts are in. However, if the plain facts of the story as presented are true (i.e. that his children were asked to leave because of his attendance), then the school is making a grave mistake.
I think we can all understand the need to ostracize someone who participates in an event such as the Iranian holocaust conference. I am in full favor of asking him to leave his shul, not giving him any kibbudim in the community, etc. I think that any and all non-violent measures should be taken against the people who participated in that event.
However, the punishment has to start and end with him alone. Punishing his children for acts that they had no control over is completely wrong. And yes, I'll agree that having his children in school is a convenience to him; but, nonetheless, the fact remains that the expulsion punishes the children for something that is completely not their fault.
The same principle can be applied to many of the yeshivos here in America. Many yeshivos today would threaten to kick children out (or refuse admission) for things that are not their fault. One such case happened with me personally -- my parents are divorced and my father is not frum. When looking for a yeshiva for me in Brooklyn after the divorce, my ba'alas t'shuva mother found that one yeshiva would only admit me on condition that I wasn't allowed any contact with my father. In another case that I am aware of, a family was threatened with expulsion from a yeshiva because they had a dog. They were told that "either the hunt goes, or you go." Considering that I went to the same yeshiva at the same time, I should consider myself lucky... we had two dogs!
But the fact of the matter is that punishing children with expulsion because of their parents' level of observance, because of household factors over which the children have no control (and, furthermore won't "corrupt" other children -- how is having a dog a danger to classmates?) is wrong - for several reasons:
Firstly, it's wrong because punishing someone for something that have no control over is simply wrong.
Secondly, it can potentially turn a child off to Judaism. Seriously, would you want to belong to a society where you will be ostracized by something your relatives may do tomorrow and over which you have no control? Do you want your children thrown out of yeshiva because your brother decides to marry a non-Jew? Or because your sister doesn't cover her hair? Of course not - every person wants to be judged on his or her own merits - not the deeds of others.
Thirdly, we see that even in the Torah there are cases where a punishment is set aside because it would affect his children. A classic example is an eid zommeim (a specific type of false witness) who gives testimony that so-and-so the Kohen's mother is a divorcee and that he is therefore not a Kohen. If he is proven to be an eid zommeim, he should be subject to the same penalty that he tried to subject the person to - i.e. that he (and his children) should be considered non-Kohanim (assuming that they were Kohanim to begin with). However, the Gemara points out that the Torah says to punish *him* and not his children - and so the punishment to him is altered to one that punishes only him and not his children.
So, to sum up, I have no problem with punishing someone who went to this conference; but the punishment has to start and end with him - not his children.
The Wolf
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
Al Tistakel B'Mah She'yesh Bo... (Do Not Look At What Is Inside...)
... elah b'kankan. (...only look at the container).The preceeding, of course, is exactly the opposite of the familiar saying of Chazal (our Sages). And yet, sometimes people (myself included) get so hung up on exteriors that they fail to see that even if the exterior may be unacceptable to your standards, the interior may yet still be beautiful.
This was recently illustrated to me by this picture (credit: AP/Kevin Frayer) which was taken in Jerusalem on Jan 1. I saw a similar photo in a local paper last week, but it wasn't until I saw the Hasidic Rebelle's comments on it that I decided to post about it. Here's what HR had to say:
Is Hashem giving us a preview of what Moshiach, and hopefully us, will encounter when he comes?
My heart and soul is torn to pieces at the obvious contrast. What caused this neshomo to go such a distance? What is he thinking? What will his future be? What are his parents and family going through?
How much are we all praying for All the Jewish souls wandering out there?
Is he really free? Is this freedom?
This picture was taken in Jerusalem yh"b. This is what our holy city Jerusalem has, darkness and light together.
Hashem should light our hearts and souls to be truly free.
While HR does have some valid points in his posting, I feel that he is truly doing a disservice to the gentleman on the left. Certainly he doesn't dress like the man on the right. Neither do I. Do I, too, represent darkness?
Secondly, he's reading more into the person's soul than can be discerned from the picture. How does he know what the gentleman's feelings on the subject of freedom are. Does he consider himself free? I don't know, and neither does HR.
Thirdly, while I'll grant that the gentleman on the left is probably not a shomer Torah U'Mitzvos (read: Orthodox) is it really fair to put him down in a way that seems to imply that there is nothing good about him? How does he know that the gentleman on the left doesn't engage in acts of g'milus chasadim (kind acts)? Maybe he cares for his elderly parents? Maybe he volunteers at a nursing home? Maybe he mentors troubled kids? How does HR know that he doesn't pray in his own fashion? How does he know that the gentleman on the left doesn't perform some mitzvos better than he does -- let's not forget that the midrashim continually point out that Esav was far more scrupulous in the mitzvah of honoring one's parents than his brother.
Of course, the last question to be asked is, even though the picture was taken in Yerushalayim, how does he know the person on the left is even Jewish at all? Perhaps he's not Jewish and is therefore free to dress anyway he likes in accordance with halacha?
The lesson here is this: People cannot be summed up based on their appearance alone, even if you find that appearance to be outrageous. Feel free to make comments about his fashion sense. Laugh at his purple mohawk if you want. But don't put his soul down unless you truly know what is contained therein. And, from such a picture, you simply cannot ascertain that.
The Wolf
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