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YOU ARE HERE: Archive >> Past Issues >> Fall 2007

Families Had A Purpose

by David M. Elcott and Shira I. Milgrom

Families had a purpose. When we read the narratives of the Bible, we realize that children took care of the household, worked in the fields, tended the livestock and were essential to the financial wellbeing of the extended family. Having many children meant protection in your old age, which explains the injunctions, including in the Ten Commandments, to honor your parents. Jewish law and tradition taught not only deference for the elderly, but obligation to care for parents as they aged and weakened.

The world has changed. We are no longer farmers and we rely on retirement accounts to provide for our senior years. We do not need our children to support us. Children not only provide no economic benefit, they actually cost us a fortune. It is often said that the best form of birth control for Jews is to place school, synagogue and camp tuitions for your kids above the bed! Insurance companies press us to take long-term care insurance so that we will not be a burden to our children and old age homes and retirement villages are thriving. With all that, we love our kids as children have never been loved before.

We have come a long way from the family as a financial institution. But the replacement also leaves us lacking. What role can our children play in our lives? What does “honor your mother and father” mean in an age of autonomy and when parents are thrilled or feel obligated to continue giving, even to their adult children?

In our family, we have become runners. It began with Talia, our eldest, who asked us to help her new athletic hobby by jogging alongside for at least part of her training. One after another, we took up jogging, until four of the six of us became confirmed runners. For me, David, this came as a surprise, having never run more than a mile or two until I was fifty! But there is something very enticing about a family run, and so I plowed through the five-mile mark with amazement and joy.

Then Talia decided to train for the NYC marathon and our runs became longer. We each ran a piece of the marathon with her, through the cheering streets of the city only weeks after September 11th. This year, my fourth marathon, we went to Philadelphia. Talia and I were running, but Noam and Liore came along as our support team. Yaron, who the day before had biked 120 miles in a race in Tucson, flew all night after Shabbat to meet us.

This year, Talia sped ahead of me as planned. She would break her best record by thirty-five minutes, an amazing feat. Over the first twenty miles, the other kids were there to cheer at various places as I passed by. They would jump in to give me something to drink or one of those energy packets. It was a stunning day and the run took us through historic Philadelphia. Unlike New York, it was relatively quiet so that inner focus was easy to achieve. I ran the best twenty miles of my life. I felt like I was flying.

Then came the last six miles. The course turned uphill. My legs ached. My body hurt and my energy waned. Liore jumped in. Quietly, she talked to me, encouraged me, providing rhythm to my steps and length to my stride. If I tried to walk, she helped talk me through that normal reflex of giving up. But my legs were cramping. Then Noam arrived on his bike with a huge sign that Shira had made to cheer me on, calling out how proud he is of me, how strong I look. I took heart. A few miles later, Yaron jumped in on my right side. He ran alongside, whispering strength into my ears, a calm present voice encouraging me to continue. When I faltered, Liore gently put her warm hand on the small of my back, tenderly propelling me forward. Now, near the finish, Talia jumped in after her own 26.2 mile run! She ran a few steps ahead, calling on the crowd to cheer for her father. My four children surrounded me until the last hundred yards, sending me across the finish line with their voices in my ears and an incredible sense of wholeness and love in my heart.

Chances are, in American society as we know it, we will not need our children in the ways they were crucial to generations past. Families play a different role; it is no longer the primary economic unit. Instead, it can be the place where love can be experienced, where trust is built, where learning to be fully human can take place. Perhaps, even more, in our world of personal autonomy, we must find new ways to be present for others in very different moments of need. The day after the marathon, I sent an email thanking the kids and noted wryly that someday they may need to encourage me again, “Abba, just a few more steps to the bathroom; you can do it.” And, in fact, they may need to do that. Not because I cannot buy the help I need, but because the financial unit family of the past can be replaced by the family that provides spiritual and emotional support for each member. It is not healthy for families to be a one-way street where children perform for us and we tell them how wonderful they are. What I love about the marathon is that tens of thousands of children and spouses, nephews and nieces, as well as parents and grandparents, are cheering for family members who are running. We are learning as a culture to honor those we love, parents and children, in ways never imagined by the Torah – and in doing so, we are able to fulfill the mitzvah of honoring others in our family as images of God in new ways.

Yes, the world is radically different and 21st century American Jewish families bear little resemblance to their ancient biblical counterparts. Yet I feel quite confident that, whether helping me take the next step as I run the marathon or supporting me to take a next step in my old age, our children are finding new opportunities to fulfill the mitzvah of honoring one’s mother and father in rich and meaningful ways. More than the relief of crossing the finish line is the knowledge that we don’t cross it alone – that we need one another to live life most fully.

Rabbi Shira Milgrom is spiritual leader of Congregation Kol Ami in White Plains, NY. Dr David Elcott is US director of the American Jewish Committee's interreligious affairs department.

Na’aseh – We Will Do

by Maxine Segal Handelman

Early childhood education is about experience. So is Jewish life. From the very beginning, the Jewish people told God, Na’aseh v’nish'mah. We will do and then we will listen (or obey, or understand) Exodus 24:7. Interestingly, the pledge to act first and ask questions later is found in chapter 24, verse seven, or in modern terms, 24/7. This pledge applies all the time, every moment of our busy lives. It’s all about the experience. We know, of course, that this is true for young children. Young children are concrete learners. Babies learn by touching and exploring, especially with their mouths, which are very sensitive sensory organs. Toddlers learn by doing the same thing again and again, until they feel they have mastery (“You want to do that puzzle again? We just did it five times in a row.”). Children learn by diving into an experience, by dressing up and taking on the role. It’s one thing to show a child a picture of a plant in a book; it’s quite another, much more substantial thing, to put seeds in a baggie with a wet paper towel, or birdseed on a damp sponge, and watch them sprout.

Judaism calls us to action. Even more than emunah (belief) or study, we are called upon to do mitzvot, commandments. Our commitment to Judaism is more evident in our actions than in our words. To know Judaism is to act it, to live it. Until we try it, we will not understand how to live a Jewish life. We understand that this is true for children — it is unreasonable to expect a young child to understand something before he or she has experienced it. As adults, and especially as parents, it is also unreasonable to expect that we can understand things before we have experienced them.

My wedding was a very traditional Conservative affair. We had a groom’s tisch (study session), a bedeken (veiling) for the bride, our moms broke a plate for the t’na-im (engagement contract), men’s and women’s separate circles for dancing for the first extremely long dancing set (albeit on the same dance floor, with no physical separation), tons of shtick (dressing up, dancing, entertaining the bride and groom), the whole nine yards. We had friends who got married in a similar ceremony and reception a couple of months before we did. We arranged for my dad to attend that wedding, and so he got to experience what we were planning. My mom was unable to attend our friends’ wedding, and YouTube didn’t exist when we got married, so she was a nervous wreck approaching our affair, never having experienced most of the things we were planning. We do, and then we understand.

In order to understand Judaism, to live it fully and help our children live it fully, we must pledge to na’aseh v’nish-mah – do and then work to understand. We can read all the guides to making Shabbat (see the book suggestions for some good ones), but until we bake hallah (the frozen kind absolutely counts), we can not understand how the smell of Shabbat affects, and transforms, the entire Shabbat experience. Shabbat requires community. We can not understand, or fully appreciate or enjoy, Shabbat, until we share it with other families. This might require swallowing some pride, and asking someone at our synagogue or child’s preschool to set us up for Shabbat dinner with a family who regularly celebrates Shabbat. Or it might mean taking a stab at Shabbat dinner with other families who have read the same books as us and who have made the pledge to “do” together.

Other holidays, Jewish life cycle events and Jewish values deserve the same pledge. Get invited to someone’s sukkah. Let your kids see you carry a Torah for one of the Hakafot (parades) on Simhat Torah. Plant a tree on your property (or on the lawn of the synagogue, your child’s school playground, or a Habitat for Humanity house) on Tu B’Shevat. Ask, through your synagogue or child’s school, to attend the ceremony of a traditional wedding (and remain to watch the dancing when the bride and groom enter the reception). Crash a bris (the parents will be too tired to notice anyway). Bring a meal to the family whose bris you crashed. Let your kids help decorate the cookies for dessert. Set aside a portion of every paycheck for tzedakah in a special savings account (Judaism says 10%, but do what you can do) and once a year go through all the appeals you’ve received over the year and empty the account (my family likes the Sunday of Thanksgiving weekend). Let your kids help choose some of the beneficiaries. Or better yet, let them fill their own Tzedakah box all year (with your spare change, of course, or if they get allowance, with part of their allowance) and decide where to send all that money.

Na’aseh v’nish-mah. If you want to teach your kids about the joys of being Jewish, then go and do. And once you are standing in a sukkah, and your child asks you why you use an etrog instead of a lemon, then you can go and find out. There’s probably even a YouTube video.

Book Recommendations

Maxine Segal Handelman is USCJ Consultant for Early Childhood Education.

Give Yourself The Gift Of Jewish Learning!

by Annie Glickman

In this fast-paced age of caring for children, working, responding to e-mails, cell-phones and trying to see our spouses once in a while, finding time for oneself seems to frequently appear at the bottom of the list. Many of us work on exercising and eating properly. But, have we also prioritized taking time out for ourselves to enrich our own Jewish learning? Just as we join a health club to work on our bodies, we need to make time for the many educational opportunities in our Jewish community to enrich our neshamot (souls) and strengthen our minds. Broadening our Jewish knowledge gives us helpful tools for everyday living and connects us to our community. In addition, personal study enables us to become more engaged in our children’s Jewish education.

It can be difficult to know what we want out of our Jewish learning until we take the time to see what is available to us; what resonates with our interests and needs. We carefully select our children’s after school activities based on their capabilities, motivation and the ways in which we want them to grow personally. So, too, this kind of thought and care should go into our own selection of how we want to spend our time enriching ourselves, Jewishly. Thankfully, for many of us, there are many opportunities to involve ourselves in this inquiry. We can begin with our synagogues. What adult education classes are being offered? Is there a cooking class for Shabbat and/or the holidays? For others, there could be a Talmud class that sounds appealing. You might discover a class on Jewish history or about the siddur (prayerbook). Talk to your rabbi or synagogue educator to find out more. If you have something specific in mind you would like to study, let them know. If you are interested, chances are, there are others who are in pursuit of the same answers. Challenge yourself to create a new class!

You could also consider forming a havurah (an informal group of adults who come together regularly to study, learn and socialize). You could bring in speakers on the topics that are of interest to you. You could read a book together, designate someone from your group to facilitate the discussion, and spend an hour once a week or once a month dedicating yourself to new ideas. A havurah is a nice way to transform an evening of learning into a friendly social event. Set up a rotation to meet in each other’s homes and have a potluck so everyone pitches in with the preparation.

Another idea: The Florence Melton Adult Mini School. FMAMS defines itself as “An international network of community-based schools for adults to acquire Jewish literacy in an open, trans-denominational learning environment.” Those who enroll in this unique opportunity take classes once a week for approximately two hours. The curriculum includes topics ranging from Jewish history to ethical issues to life cycles, Jewish holidays and beyond. I have been Director of the Melton School in Dallas for five years and I have seen that those who enroll in Melton are transformed by the experience. You can check out Melton’s website for a class near you at www.fmams.org.il.

Jewish learning is not only beneficial to us, but to our children as well. We are serving as very important dugmaot (examples) for them. Jewish inquiry does not cease after Bar or Bat Mitzvah, or a confirmation. Judaism teaches us the importance of life-long learning. As parents, there is no greater way to say this than to show our children by example. It is about what we do with our own time, not just in the way we instruct them to manage theirs.

Ready to begin study? Here are a few ideas to help you:

Annie Glickman holds an MA in Jewish Education from The Jewish Theological Seminary and has taught at the Beit Rabban Day School in Manhattan before becoming the Director of the Florence Melton Adult Mini School in Dallas.

Online Child Safety

by Meta Levin

When Mike and Jenny (not their real names) found their 12-year-old daughter curled up on her bed crying, they were shocked at the cause. The seemingly popular youngster was a victim of cyber bullying, a particularly cruel internet phenomenon that is working its way down to lower and lower grade levels.

In fact, Parry Aftab, a lawyer specializing in Internet privacy and security law and founder of Wiredsafety.org (www.wiredsafety.org), has found that cyber bullying can start as early as third or fourth grade. “It’s the biggest issue that we see with the younger kids,” she said.

Welcome to the new online world. If your children are not already computer literate, they soon will be. Just as you teach them how to cross the street safely and not to speak to strangers, it’s your job to teach them how to be safe online. “The ideal time to start them is when they first learn to maneuver a mouse,” says Marsali Hancock, head of iKeepsafe (www.ikeepsafe.org), a project of the Internet Keep Safe Coalition, a public-private partnership that encompasses law enforcement, several state governors and their spouses, and crime prevention organizations, as well as foundations and corporate sponsors.

In cyber bullying, youngsters post or circulate via email, social networking websites and IM (instant messaging) cruel and often false and embarrassing stories about their peers. As with anything else on the internet, these things can take on a life of their own, spreading far beyond the children’s immediate circle, so that within a short time it seems that the entire school, camp or even an outside group will know about it. They are difficult to counter and can be devastating.

A study by iSafe.org found that 42 percent of children report having been bullied while online. One in four says that it has happened more than once. Even more disturbing, 53 percent admit having said something mean or hurtful to another person online.

Using basic Jewish tenets, parents can teach their children not only to be safe, but to respect others online. We are admonished from speaking lashon ha'ra (malicious gossip), which is the very nature of cyber bullying. Rabbi Nina Mizrahi, director of the Pritzker Center for Jewish Education at the Jewish Community Centers (JCC) of Chicago (www.jccofchicago.org), recommends reading Yussel’s Prayer by Barbara Cohen, with your children. Discussing proper behavior online is a “good way to bring Jewish values to life,” she says.

As Mike and Jenny learned, it’s vital to keep open communication with your children. “We talked with her and we listened to her,” Mike said.

Rabbi Mizrahi’s colleague, Sheryl Katz, director of social services for the JCC of Chicago’s early childhood program, notes that popularity in the 6- to 10-year-old age group is based on shared interests, so you cannot deny your children access to popular culture experiences, such as computers or the internet, but you can guide them and be aware of what they are doing online. “You can tell them that in our home we believe in living by and treating each other with these Jewish values,” she says.

Fighting Cyber Bullying – Resources for Parents and Children

To combat this dangerous trend that is threatening our children, a number of websites have sprung up to provide help and advice for parents and children, including teaching games for even the youngest tots. Among the best:

Wiresafety.org uses second, third and fourth graders to help them design age appropriate “netiquette” (online etiquette) lessons and games, to help insure that children will respond to the material.

Ronna Weinstick, a Jewish educator from the Jewish Community Centers of Chicago’s Pritzker Center for Jewish Education compiled a list of books about lashon ha'ra (malicious gossip), which are appropriate to share with young children:

Meta L. Levin is a freelance writer and editor.

Encouraging Our Children

by Jane Geller Epstein

Back in June, when schools and yearly programs were closing for the summer, we read the parasha of Shlakh L'kha. That Shabbat marked a special anniversary of our son’s bar mitzvah years before, and it also was the weekend of his secular birthday. Shlakh L'kha has many elements to it, but most importantly it tells the story of Moses sending representatives of the twelve tribes into the land of Canaan to scout out the indigenous people, the terrain and the vegetation. On their return, ten of the scouts reported that the land and its inhabitants would present problems for a future conquest. Hearing this, the people were dismayed and frightened. Two of the scouts, however, saw a different vision and made a positive report. If no one had given an encouraging description of the land, the eventual entry into Canaan, and our history as a people, might not have happened.

The day after reading this dramatic parasha, my husband and I rose early to arrive at the South Street Seaport in New York City before 5 AM. Our son had walked overnight with thousands of people who were personal survivors, friends or relatives of victims of depression. The event, aptly named “Out of the Darkness,” raised a sizable amount of money for education about emotional illness and for suicide prevention programs. Like the people of Israel standing in the desert after the report of the ten spies, those who are depressed see only the negative in their lives. The positive aspects of living and surviving may not be strong enough for them to move beyond their loss of hope for the future. Watching the walkers arrive at the pier as daylight was beginning to break, was truly an emotional experience. These individuals used their mental health history, or their overcoming the grief of losing a loved one to suicide, as motivation to reach out to unknown others.

We tend to believe that young children are incapable of becoming depressed. Children are innately naïve, happy and optimistic. But not all children are capable of handling even the small stresses of everyday life. And some live with physical or emotional difficulties that impact on their ability and strength to view life as good. As adults, we try to hide our own problems from our children,but they ofteninstinctively cue in on our emotions. Although they may not be able to understand the circumstances or articulate what they sense, children often react to situations such as illness or tension in the home. If they cannot talk about what is bothering them, they might internalize the affect by withdrawal, unexplained anger or spontaneous crying. Over the years of working with young children and their families, I remember several instances of teachers recognizing signs of emotional stress within a child, even though the parents denied both seeing such behavior as well as anything unusual happening at home. Over time, however, we would eventually learn about one of parents experiencing serious illness, or of an impending divorce, or a mother unable to cope while her husband traveled for business. The child, meanwhile, had absorbed the tension within the home and was an unseen victim.

As parents and educators, we are constantly looking out for the welfare of the children under our care. We try to keep them safe and healthy, but outward care alone does not shield children from the emotional assaults of everyday life. It is necessary to look for the signs of distress that can lead to lifelong emotional problems. Some children are born hardwired to take the world too seriously. Our best efforts may never be enough for them. But they are the exception and, fortunately, a small minority. Working together as a team, parents and teachers, sometimes with the extra help of mental health facilitators, are the best allies a child has in learning to accept the bumps in the road of life and coping with the disappointments and momentary sadness that we all face at some time.

At the end of the parasha of Shlakh L'kha, we read a paragraph that eventually was incorporated into the siddur as part of the Shema. In this paragraph, we are told to make fringes on our garments (tzitzit) to remind us to observe the commandments. Stretching this concept a bit, all of us need to remember to look at those around us daily to see how they are doing, to be aware of the signs of difficulty and to keep them in touch with their optimistic side.

By remembering that life is composed of negative and positive reports, we can strive to accent the positive and move constantly toward the light. May this new year ahead help us to create positive experiences that our children will remember years from now when they need to reach into themselves for strength and for choosing life.

Jane Geller Epstein is a retired early childhood educator and administrator.

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