Choices and Outcomes

By Sarah Bier
University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign
KOC Assistant Editor

For as long as I can remember, my mother’s opinion of Jewish education has been, “I don’t mind how observant you are, as long as you make your decision based on knowledge, not ignorance.” When I was young, I was sent to the local Schechter on that premise, but when decisions concerning high school arose, my choice was between an Orthodox high school and a magnet public school. Again, her motto was central in our conversations, because she and my father didn’t want my Jewish education to end with an eighth grade appreciation of my heritage.

When I chose the magnet school, I remember a family friend saying to my parents that he was sure that I would soon be bringing Paul, Juan and Jamal home to meet them. (And while they may have existed, my parents certainly never met them.) My extended family discussed taking bets on how long I would remain Shomeret Shabbat (Sabbath observant) given that so many social events take place on Friday nights and Saturdays. Though I outlasted all their expectations, I never got to see a penny…

But my dedication to Judaism has not been without sidebars of hesitation and doubt. I abhorred my day school experience, where students focused primarily on their clothes and gave less than an ounce of thought to how they treated each other. In eighth grade, after cutting Sukkot davening all of hol hamoed to play cards in one of the bathrooms, my friends and I were caught by the scary gym teacher and were suspended for the remainder of the day. Despite all this, there was still something that called me to be observant. I went to a labor Zionist camp for seven years, to Israel when I was sixteen and even considered transferring to that Orthodox school I had rejected two years earlier. I continued going to shul nearly every Shabbat through high school, though I often got there closer to Kiddush than Torah reading. I also went to an excruciatingly boring Ulpan (Hebrew language immersion program) as well as Hebrew School during high school.

My Jewish education is far from typical and my dedication may be due in part to that. I grew up in a highly invested Jewish community where there is no congregational rabbi, but there are many learned people who discuss Jewish issues around their dinner tables. The mixture of Jewish and secular aspects of my life has finally blended together after years of struggling with the role I wanted Judaism to take. I know the theory that most students who do not go to Jewish day school do not get educated in our traditions and practices, but I have come to realize that that path alone may not forge the connection Jewish educators so desperately seek. I struggle when I think of the number of students who, like me, were turned off to Judaism by day school (or other institutions) and never connected with religion because they never had an appealing experience. In our struggle to raise Jewish commitment, we should offer a plethora of creative Jewish learning experiences to students to engage them. I know very few people who found their connections to Judaism on their own accord, without having inspiring encounters with others.

My brother now goes to the new Conservative High School in our community. He insists he hates it, but he returns this fall for his sophomore year of his own choosing. He is as disengaged from Judaism as I was and I deeply hope that his path in high school leads him towards Judaism and not further away. Each to his own, I guess. But I still hope.

[Posted 8/26/03]