Sharing news the Jewish way...

This posting also appears on the Davar Acher blogsite; a place for the Jim Joseph Foundation Fellows and other guest bloggers to share their ideas, thoughts, and messages toward advancing Jewish Education worldwide.

The "Sandwich Method" for sharing critical/potentially negative news is a simple concept of starting with the first layer of "bread".  Here one provides an initial positive remark, compliment, or other warm and fuzzy so as to set the stage and begin building the sandwich by showing that "feeding someone" is as much about the care being taken in the information's delivery as it is about the information itself.


The "meat" of the sandwich can then be shared.  This is often the negative feedback, constructive criticism, and/or critical information that often leaves the recipient a little taken aback by the impact of the information.  And then, finally, one closes the sandwich with a positive comment about the future, how the information may help someone grow, or general optimistic statement.


So why do I share this methodology on a Jewish education blog?  Well, besides the fact that we are most certainly a gastronomic faith, I actually believe that this sandwich method is a very Jewish and ancient method for sharing difficult news and can be observed in the events of this week's Torah portion.


It is this week, in Parashat Shelach (Numbers 13:1-15:41), where Moses sends out a group of representatives of all the Tribes to scout the land of Canaan.  What we know is that this group returns from their travels and they share terrifying information about the "giants" who live there.  These stories in turn cause panic and hysteria amongst the Children of Israel and ultimately brings about a punishment for this generation of never being able to enter the land.


Similarly, the consequences for the scouts is death... for all that is but Joshua and Caleb.  Why not these two?  Common understanding tells us that these two scouts did not share the negatives and fear-inducing stories of what they saw.  Rather, these two were optimists and wanted to only focus on the good.


My conjecture, however, is that these two were saved for the way they shared the information. Not because of what they actually said (or did not say).


In Numbers 13:27 we read that the scouts (the collective group) describe the land as "flowing with milk and honey" (laying the first piece of "bread") they then share the "meat" of what they saw which is a land with numerous enemies, "huge and fortified" cities, and even descendants of the giants (13:28).  Nobody suggests that they are embellishing their story, or worse outright lying!


No, what happens here is that for the majority of the scouts their report of what they saw ends on this note of fear and anxiety.  In fact, this scary focal point becomes the focus of what they go on to share with the other Hebrews in the encampment.  Not Caleb and Joshua however.  Their report continues and ends with the closing slice of bread.  For Caleb and Joshua there is still optimism and potential fulfillment of their destiny as we read in 13:30 where Caleb says, "We should go up at once, and possess it; for we are well able to overcome it."  So even with the fearful news of what they saw; even with this incredibly scary report, the fact is that what Caleb and Joshua know about what they could do still outweighed what they saw on their trail. They didn't want/try to leave anyone paralyzed by the news.


When it comes to sharing information, and as educators we share, recommend, advise, counsel, and talk to people all day long; it is wise for us to always keep the sandwich method in mind.  Remember, how one says something is just as important as what one says!

Controlling vengeance...

Dipping the finger in the wine during the retelling of the 10 plagues in Egypt.

It was about 20 years ago when I was first confronted with what I perceived to be the “disconnect” during the Passover Seder.  For me the moment of greatest challenge was between celebrating the retelling of our People’s master story (from slavery in Egypt to freedom in our promised land) against the perceived “reveling” in the pain and suffering of those who caused our ancestors unspeakable acts of hatred and anti-Semitism.

In Traditional Haggadot it is still customary to read the passage "Pour out Thy wrath upon the nations that know Thee not, and upon the kingdoms that call not upon Thy name.  Pour out Thine indignation upon them, and let the fierceness of Thine anger overtake them.  Thou wilt pursue them in anger, and destroy them from under the heavens of Hashem." 

The paragraph itself is actually a compilation of three Biblical verses (Psalm 79:6-7, Psalm 69:25 and Lamentations 3:66) which were assembled and added to the Haggadah during the Middle Ages.  The history behind these Haggadic additions is that the above passage was a conscious response by the Jewish community to the mass Jewish executions during the Crusades, and to the persecution of Jews throughout the ages.  These verses acted as the community’s collective voice condemning those evil actions and calling upon G-d to stand up and hold our persecutors accountable.

Today, however, especially living in the United States where many of us are insulated from the hatred and anti-Semitic acts that plague many of our brethren in nations across the globe, the notion of vengeance and hatred toward our non-Jewish neighbors is profoundly rejected.

As Jewish parents wanting to raise our children with universal values of respect, forgiveness, integrity, and coexistence, we need to ask ourselves, how do we teach our children to be satisfied when justice is served while at the same time ensuring that this satisfaction does not become joy and happiness at the suffering of another?

Passover is the perfect time to introduce these ideas.  The Passover Seder is a time of reflection, storytelling, and discussion, where simple acts can teach lessons for a lifetime. 

For instance, when it comes time to traditionally dip your finger in the cup of wine during the reading of the 10 plagues, suggest to your guests (or if you are a guest, suggest to your host and friends) that at the conclusion of the last plague do NOT suck/lick the wine off of their wet finger; rather, suggest that they wipe it dry with a napkin. 

The explanation for this strange avoidance (why not suck the wine off of the finger???) is that the wine that one has just used to enact this part of the Seder, has been incorporated specifically to visually demonstrate the plagues destruction over the Egyptians.  The reason for holding back one’s instinctual urge to lick the wine off of the finger is exactly the urge which we often have in finding joy in our enemies’ demise.

When we suffer, we want our enemies to suffer.  When we no longer suffer, we should look beyond the vengeance, as instinctive as it may be, and look for the path of restraint and take the proverbial “higher” road.

However, in reality, there will still be multiple guests sitting around the table who forget your instructions and proceed to suck the remaining wine off of their finger.  At this point the stage has been set for a wonderful teachable moment.  Ask the group why it is so difficult to withhold our instinctive desires?  Is it possible that they have already forgotten the instructions of only a few minutes earlier?  Maybe; but the real opportunity is in the ensuing discussion.

I wish you all a happy, healthy, and zissen Pesach!

Mazal Tov!!!

2010 Middle School Science Fair Winners

So after all the skepticism, adult cynicism, and jaded pessimism of "product marketability" last night three elementary school students and six middle school students (pictured above) were rewarded with their well-deserved recognition and respective prizes.

But wait, there's more... just before the event formally began last night I was part of a meeting where at its conclusion I invited the attendees to come and visit the Invention Convention and Science Fair (most of the group were parents already planning to go on to the event but some were school leaders without participating children - so why not invite them to see these incredible creations).  One particular parent of two students in the Invention Convention openly joked about his children's inventions and how ridiculous they were.  Then another parent chimed in to not only agree but share the impracticality of his child's invention.

Again, I shared with these parents that this process is about our need to encourage creativity and innovation.  Even if the items aren't necessarily marketable and/or have serious logistical flaws the fact is that this process encourages children to identify a problem and consequently find a solution to the problem (i.e. become inventive).  

The beauty of the evening, beyond seeing the room full of hundreds of parents, relatives, guests, and friends asking the student inventors and scientists about their creations and hypotheses, was the fact that the initiating skeptic and loudest critic from the earlier meeting had to not only eat his words upon arriving at the event, but that he will now have to remember his cynicism every time he looks at his youngest child because she actually won one of the innovation prizes for creativity and inventiveness!

Yes, my friends, I could not have made up a better example of how often we potentially stifle our children's idealism and passion for naturally trying to solve the problem's and challenges around us.  Maybe we would be better served to let these young and "unjaded" minds take a serious stab at some of our global issues...who knows, maybe we would actually create a system to reduce global warming, possibly bring about world peace, and even maybe eliminate the threat of a nuclear armageddon all together???

Failure... a step toward success!

This posting also appears on the Davar Acher blogsite; a place for the Jim Joseph Foundation Fellows and other guest bloggers to share their ideas, thoughts, and messages toward advancing Jewish Education worldwide.

Today is our school’s 2^nd Annual Invention Convention & Science Fair.  Apparently, we only get to call it “annual” in its second year…so today we have reached this great milestone!

Seriously though, I have been astounded over the years (and this is not being overly melodramatic) at the incredibly inflated expectations of today’s parents toward their children’s potential.  Obviously, being the head of a Jewish day school, I only have geniuses who were reading in their cribs, doing calculus in preschool, and who are today solving the world’s greatest mysteries and challenges as pre-pubescent Einsteins.

The fact is that even with tongue-in-cheek humor I have witnessed great attempts by education policymakers to suck the creativity and innovation right out of our children while creating expectations for achieving a mythical “perfection” through high-stakes assessments.  I’m not exactly sure when “striving for perfection” became “being perfect” but I am very confident that this expectation is a strong reason innovation (read: risk-taking) has slowly disappeared from our children’s behaviors for fear of potential failure.

 Woody Allen said it best “If you're not failing every now and again, it's a sign you're not doing anything very innovative.”  (And he knows something or two about failing).  As a head of school I am always trying to help put things into perspective, whether it’s for our students, staff and faculty, or parents and broader community, nothing does the job better than talking about a child learning to walk:

The build-up to those first few steps, the encouragement, support and even outright cheering when a toddler stands up is at times overwhelming.  Then a stride across the room comes and the audience erupts!  From there a few setbacks (thank G-d for well-padded diapers) but the encouragement continues; the support network stands firm (pun intended).  And eventually, after who knows how many attempts, failure turns into success!!!

So when does it change?  I dare say that in the world of Jewish education we must ensure that it never does.  In our school, the commitment to the Invention Convention over the last two years has been fraught with parental push-back.  “It’s too hard for my child to come up with something original” is the most common criticism.  “My child can’t come up with any ‘problems’ or ‘challenges’ to be solved” is another frequently used critique.  Nonetheless, when I have the opportunity to walk around our museum of innovative products and creations, as I did this morning, there is no doubt that we are well on our way to readdressing this critical commodity.

When I was a child, my mother (a former religious school teacher) used to remind me that the Torah had characters who were imperfect and “real” human beings.  They might have had Divine relationships which we only wish we could have today, but our ancestors were real, they made mistakes, and they certainly failed in a varied multitude of ways. 

Today, I ask you all out there, what are we doing to emulate this critical characteristic of our ancestors?  Where has all the imperfection gone?  And where is our support and recognition that failing is not a badge of dishonor, rather it is a symbol of one’s pursuit for success?

Re: Jewish Identity Projects...

In an era when many suggest we are at best stagnating as a Jewish community, in fact many would even suggest we are regressing, the collective blog "28 Days, 28 Ideas: 28 Ideas to Transform the Jewish Future" is a much needed breathe of fresh air to re-energize us in engaging in the critical visionary discussions that this blog has/is prompting.  

I want to thank Ira Wise, colleague, friend, and fellow JJFF'er (Jim Joseph Foundation Fellow) for bringing my attention to this insightful and even contentious blog.  For whether I agree or disagree with the individual postings themselves, the very fact that this blog was even created in the first place is a critical sign of our desperate need for a new Tikvah ("Hope") and a new vision to advance our Jewish community beyond the 21st Century. 

The following is entry #23 (of the total 28) which struck a personal nerve for me as a Jewish day school educator.  Creating, instilling, establishing, nurturing "Jewish identity", as Daniel Septimus so clearly articulates below, is simply not enough of a driving force for Jewish continuity and sustainability.

Daniel Septimus is the Editor-in-Chief and
CEO of MyJewishLearning.com.  

Over the last several years, I have read dozens of articles and listened to scores of conversations about the challenge of strengthening Jewish identity in America. Indeed, since the 1990 National Jewish Population Survey canonized Jewish American assimilation, an unprecedented amount of communal dollars and efforts have been poured into this endeavor.

Programs aimed at "young Jews" are often explicitly framed as identity projects, a fact readily apparent from the mission statements of two of the most prominent and well-funded organizations serving the 18-30 crowd, Hillel and Birthright Israel.

Hillel "provides opportunities for Jewish students...to explore and celebrate their Jewish identity through its global network of regional centers." Birthright Israel aims "to strengthen participants' personal Jewish identity."

This may seem neither controversial nor remarkable, but I believe that the obsessive focus on identity is both misguided and fundamentally alien to Jewish tradition.

What do organizations mean when they say they want to strengthen or cultivate Jewish identity?

At The Jewish Federations of North America's General Assembly, in a panel on Jewish Peoplehood, Dr. Erica Brown noted that there are three components to identity formation: the cognitive (what we think), the behavioral (what we do), and the emotional (what we feel). In discussing some of the maladies plaguing the American Jewish community, Dr. Brown suggested an interesting diagnosis: when American Jews speak about Jewish identity they aggressively emphasize the emotional.

In other words, to too many American Jews, Jewish identity means feeling Jewish.

Dr. Brown's insight articulated something I have been noticing for years and was, most recently, driven home during a conversation with a prominent Jewish philanthropist. As we spoke, this generous and committed Jewish leader extolled the virtues of Jewish education and lamented its current state. When I asked him what he wanted Jewish education to achieve-what its aim should be-his answer was simple: "I want Jewish kids to feel proud of being Jewish."

I, for my part, was stunned. Really? That's it? That's the goal of Jewish education, of all your philanthropic benevolence? A feeling of ethnic/religious/cultural pride?

This is merely one example, of course, but to appreciate the Jewish community's excessive emotionalism-and its eschewal of the cognitive and behavioral aspects of identity formation-consider this: Could you imagine Birthright Israel's mission statement asserting that it wanted to influence the thinking and behaviors of its participants? Surely, most American Jews would consider that paternalistic, if not creepy.

So what's so bad about putting all of our eggs in the basket of emotional identity?

First, as Dr. Brown noted, it ignores the importance of "what we think" and "what we do."

Professor Steven M. Cohen has noted something similar. "In common parlance, ‘identity,' has come to be understood as related primarily to intra-psychic feelings-the attitudes and sentiments felt within....But, in truth, Jewish identity extends (or ought to extend) beyond the affective. Being an ‘identified Jew' is not just about feeling Jewish, but about expressing Jewish belonging and undertaking identifiably Jewish behaviors."

Secondly, valuing emotional identity as the fundamental aim of Jewish life is a recent phenomenon that has little precedent in Jewish tradition. It's difficult for me to think of a single traditional Jewish text that discusses the importance of feeling Jewish. Not only is the centrality of emotional identity not rooted in Jewish tradition, it is likely an expression of our alienation from this tradition.

One might suggest as my friend Dr. Eliyahu Stern has that "identity is the language of those who have lost it." Or as Leon Wieseltier has written: "Where the words of the fathers are forgotten, there is still ethnic identity. The thinner the identity the louder."

Now, I do not believe that all contemporary Jewish expressions must be rooted in the past, and I do believe there are contemporary values-Jewish and secular-that should trump traditional Jewish ones, but the emotionalism that guides American Jews is not one of them.

The idea I'm suggesting here, then, is that we abandon the rhetoric of identity, that we stop programming and funding the goal of strengthening Jewish identity. I am not, however, suggesting that we abandon all the programs that mention Jewish identity building as their aim. These programs can-and usually do-have other goals, even if they are not always front and center in their mission statements. Additionally, since I am tearing down one of the primary frameworks of contemporary Judaism, let me offer an alternative.

The second mishnah in Pirkei Avot reports the following: "Shimon the Righteous was one of the last survivors of the Great Assembly. He used to say: The world is sustained on three things: on Torah, on the Temple service [avodah], and on deeds of loving kindness [gemilut hasadim]."

What are these three pillars?

1)   Torah, which includes education and study, the intellectual and cognitive aspects of Judaism.

2)   Avodah, which in Pirke Avot refers to the service of God as conducted in the Temple, but can generally encompass the religious, spiritual, and ritual aspects of Jewish life.

3)   Gemilut hasadim, which incorporates the ethical demands of Judaism-helping the poor, visiting the sick, fighting for the dignity of all.

I'd like to see the rhetoric of Jewish programming and funding guided by these three categories. Of course, there are other values that could be used as touchstones for Jewish priorities. The People of Israel and the Land of Israel are two that come to mind. But while I wouldn't ignore the importance of Peoplehood and Israel, I believe Shimon's pillars speak more directly to the human condition.

While Shimon's framework is Jewish, I don't think it's incidental that he believed "the world" was sustained by these three items. One might argue that a full life-for individuals and communities-includes elements of these three categories: the intellectual, the spiritual, and the ethical.

If our goal is to raise a generation of Jews who feel Jewish, then our aspirations are, I fear, limited and foreign. Creating a Jewish community that is committed to study, ritual, and helping others seems like a nobler endeavor. And a more Jewish one at that.