Our Kids... Do We Want To Force Them To Keep The Mitzvos?

Rabbi Horowitz (who has been recently appointed at the "Bloggers' favorite rabbi") wrote a new article concerning teenagers. He makes the point that there are kids who rebel at young ages (13 or 14) and no longer have an interest in being frum. These aren't kids who are getting involved in drugs, alcohol, sex, etc., they just aren't interested in keeping the mitzvos (commandments).

As he says:

I am getting a new wave of parents begging me to speak to their children. The profile is chillingly similar: 13-14 years old boys and girls. High achieving in school. No emotional problems; great, respectful kids from great homes. Well adjusted. They just don’t want to be frum. Period. They are eating on Yom Kippur, not keeping Shabbos, not keeping kosher; et al.

No anger, no drugs, no promiscuous activity. They are just not buying what we are selling. Some have decided to ‘go public’, while others are still ‘in the closet’. In some of the cases, their educators have no idea of what is really going on.

Without offering any concrete ideas on what should be changed, Rabbi Horowitz correctly points out that *something* must be done.

What I found interesting was that right away, the very first commenter, chose to bury his (or her) head in the sand. The comment was:

I dont believe it. 13 and 14 year old kids are still very much under their parents control. They might not be as frum as their parents might want them to be, but eating on Yom Kippur and being Mechalel Shabbos at home with their parents there? Personally I think that you are trying to scare up some business for yourself. Maybe get more speaking engagements or more people reading your column. Kids at that age are not bold enough to go against their parents.

The commenter, IMHO, missed the point entirely. Could a parent enforce observance on a thirteen or fourteen year old? Probably. They could probably lock up the kitchen on Yom Kippur, make sure the kid doesn't go to parties on Friday night, bentches after every meal and so on. But is that really what we want? In my opinion, if you have to *force* kids to keep the mitzvos, then you've already lost a good deal of the battle.

Teenagers (and yes, even ones as young as 13) are old enough to begin searching for their own identity and to begin forming world-views. They are no longer at an age where they will simply accept the hashkafos of parents simply because it's what their parents believe and do. They are beginning to find their way in the world and will not be stuffed back in the bottle. As the parent of three kids in the age range of 11 to 14, I can tell you that they can all think independently of how you *want* them to think.

The goal, as I said earlier, is not to enforce observance of the mitzvos. The goal should be to foster an environment in which your children *want* to keep the mitzvos. That's the only method that has any chance of success... because the time will come when your thirteen-year-old turns twenty, and you have no control over him/her at all. At that point, the only thing that you have left is how much you made your kids want to keep the mitzvos. You won't be able to force them anymore.

The Wolf

Diversity

Yesterday was a busy day for Eeees and myself. In the morning, we had an opportunity to sit in our Walter's shiur (Gemara class). We got to meet the Rebbe and I got to see some of the kids who are in his Masmidim (Honors) class.

Firstly, I like the rebbe very much. He's a young clean-shaven guy (can't be much older than I am) who really connects with the kids and makes the learning enjoyable for them. He involves them in the class and, instead of just teaching them the Gemara, is instead teaching them *how* to learn the Gemara on their own. Of course, at the ninth grade level, they're not ready to sit and make a laining (preparation of the text of the Gemara) just yet, but he has clearly got them started on the right path. He talks to the kids, instead of talking down at them and involves them in the discussion at all times. Of course, the fact that Walter likes him as a rebbe is also very encouraging. (He even makes reference to topics the kids can relate to -- at one point, he mentioned the Riddler and the fact that he is OCD.)

However, what also impressed me was the diversity in the student body and in the class. Here was a class of boys that didn't all look like clones of each other. The boys all wore button-down shirts (as required by the dress code), but of all different colors. The yarmulkes ranged from knitted, to leather, to suede to velvet and in different sizes. Some were all black, others had designs and logos. There were kids from all different extractions -- Ashkenazim, Sefardim, (some who looked) Yemenite and probably from different levels of observance as well. It was quite a difference from the school where he came from, where all the kids were Ashkenazim (there may have been the occassional Sefardi in the school, but they were few and far between -- I think there was one in Walter's class), all wore white shirts/dark slacks, all wore the same yarmulkes and all, for the most part, had the same backgrounds and behaviors (or so we thought, anyway). This, I feel is a good thing. I would like Walter to understand that there are different types of people in the world and that not everyone has to be "just like him" to be a good person and that he shouldn't turn up his nose at someone just because they dress differently, have a different hashkafah or different ethnic background. I'm hoping that over the next four years, he learns the valuable lesson of accepting people despite their differences, rather than attacking them for being different from yourself (as we've seen in the news lately).

Later on in the day, Eeees and I went to a reunion. When we were both in college, we both served on the Emergency Medical Squad in the college. Yesterday, there was a reunion of the members of the squad, going back to its founding 30 years ago. We got to meet with old friends, reminisce and swap stories with the old members, catch up on what was happening with their lives (Mike married Mary Kay??!!) and have a wonderful time. Since many members of the squad over the years were Orthodox, all the food was kosher.

In many ways, I consider the time I spent in the squad the most valuable time that I spent in college -- in many cases, even more valuable than my class time. Having come from a high school much like Walter's elementary school (only much more so, if you can truly believe it), I never had much exposure to non-Orthodox Jews (except for family members) and non-Jews. As such, while I certainly a lot more tolerant of other people than my classmates in high school, it was here, in the squad, that I learned to form friendships with people from other backgrounds. It was here that I had the first opportunity to socialize with people who weren't strictly from "my own type." And it was here that I learned, for the first time, to accept people for who they are -- not for what minhagim they observe, or which religion they practice, how they dress or what they think about evolution or the origin of the world. When you're working with a team to save lives, you don't really care what religion the EMT next to you is. When you ask the dispatcher for the status of local hospitals, you don't really care whether or not she's dressed in a completely tznius fashion. You focus on one goal -- saving lives. And even when you're not actively involved in the saving of lives -- even if you're just hanging around in the office waiting for a call to come in -- you realize that you can work together and get along with and even be friends with people with whom you have no religious connection -- people who may be Jewish and non-Orthodox, people who may be devout Christians, Muslims or Hindus, or even those that are completely non-religious. *This* was what I learned in my time in the Emergency Medical Squad (along with lifesaving skills, teamwork skills, etc.) and, in many respects, that was far more valuable than the coursework that I took.

The Wolf

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.

Don't Come For Shabbos Unless You're Frum!

I'll be the first to admit that I've never read anything by Uri Orbach, so maybe there is some humor or irony in this article that I am missing. If so, please let me know and I'll be more than happy to retract my criticism of his article.

Mr. Orbach writes about the "horrors" (my word, not his) of having non-observant guests for Shabbos. Whether it be the fact that they arrive and/or leave on Shabbos, accidentally turn on and off the lights or have a cell phone ring, he simply "cannot handle it" (his words).

Personally, I found the whole tone of the article offensive. Especially odious was this line:

Don't come visiting on Shabbat, not even if you call in advance. If we happen to invite you – please politely decline. Because it pushes our buttons. We with our "mishigas," our rules and our old habits.

Really now. If you have a problem with non-observant people, then just don't invite them. When they call in advance to say that they are coming, just tell them no, thank you.

I don't know what kind of guests Mr. Orbach has for Shabbos. If he has guests who go out of their way to flout their non-observance, then perhaps Mr. Orbach needs to find some new friends, not swear off the idea of having Shabbos guests.

In the Wolfish household, we have relatives who are non-observant. And, yes, we sometimes have them over for Shabbos and Yom Tov meals. All such guests know that they are invited to remain for Shabbos and/or Yom Tov. The fact that they don't stay is their business -- I'm not going to tie them up to stop them from leaving after the meal is over.

However, the guests that we have over are, to a degree, sensitive to our religious sensibilities. They will turn off their cell phones before arriving. Men will wear yarmulkes (no, the women don't cover their hair). Aside from the actual arrival and/or departure, they won't engage in any activity that is an outright desecration of Shabbos. They wash and bentch and answer Amen to b'rachos. In short, they know how to behave on Shabbos; and, in the event that they slip up and unknowingly do something that is forbidden, we advise them nicely and gently that that can't be done, and it doesn't happen again.

If there are kids and they turn off or on a light, so what? If they are too young to know any better, then aside from the inconvenience of having a light off, there is no real harm. If they are old enough to know better, then we simply explain to them that they cannot do what they did.

Over Succos, we had the good fortune to celebrate a Bar-Mitzvah. We have many relatives who are not observant (coming from a non-observant family, the vast majority of my relatives, including my father, fall into that category). We invited them all to come and spend the entire Yom Tov with us. Some took us up on it (ironically, it was the observant [out of town] relatives who did so) while others did not. But even the non-observant were welcome to come, celebrate the Bar Mitzvah with us and spend time with us in our succah. Did some people violate the rules of Yom Tov in coming? Definitely, but they would no doubt have driven somewhere on that beautiful Sunday morning. As long as I made it clear to them that they were welcome to come before Yom Tov and stay until after Yom Tov was over, it wasn't a problem (according to my rav).

Ultimately, as frum Jews, it is our job to spread the message that observance of the mitzvos (commandments) is a good thing. You do that through positive exposure - by showing people the beauty of a Shabbos meal, how special the Yomim Tovim are, etc. And if it means putting up with the occasional religious faux pas, so be it - I think the benefits far outweigh the negatives. As long as your guests are willing to respect your rules, then there is no reason I can think of to not have non-observant people over for Shabbos and expose them to the beauty of a Shabbos meal.

The Wolf

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