Shadchanim tell it like it is

I'LL admit it.  I never used to think of being a shadchan as a job. It was a chesed, certainly. Some people did it professionally, definitely. I knew that being a shadchan involved a G-d-given talent which included: a. being an extrovert who actually enjoys meeting with and calling up random people; b. being blessed with a brilliant little voice in your ear that whispers, “Him! With her!”; and c. being perseverant (not to mention the other "p" word) enough to see your suggestions through.

In other words, something far, far out of my stratosphere.

Aside from that, I’d never really thought much about what actually went into making a shidduch — the grueling, 24/7, non-stop marathon of calls, counseling, meetings, arrangements, and calming Chani’s hysterical mother on one line while placating Yanky’s angry mom on the other — until my own son started shidduchim.

Suddenly, my eyes were opened. These people were superheroes!

Now, shidduchim isn’t exactly a forgotten topic in our community. (In fact, if you search really hard, you might even find an Inbox letter or two on the subject.) But how often do we stop and consider what it’s like to be a shadchan?

We interviewed six shadchanim to get the inside scoop on their job. These shadchanim offer insight into what they do all day (spoiler alert: There is no little whispering voice), and pro tips for how to set yourself up for success in shidduchim.

But I’m going to start with the punchline.  Every shadchan agreed that, for a job that’s all-consuming, underpaid, frequently stressful, and too often aggravating… it is absolutely, incomparably meaningful. And there’s nothing they’d rather be doing with their lives.

Our interviewees

What does a shadchan do all day?

What do I do all day? The phone-email-text-doorbell rings; boy needs to pick up the dating game, boy needs to return the dating game. Girl’s mentor calls, boy’s rebbi calls, dating coach is on the line. Boy picks up the keys for the car that he’s borrowing from my friend.  Boy’s flight got canceled, he doesn’t have a smartphone and his parents don’t have WiFi service — can I please rebook him on a different flight? Doorbell rings again, girl drops off a flower arrangement as a thank you for setting her up. The phone rings again, it’s last night’s date. “Is now a good time to talk about the date?”  Whoops, did I forget to get the Dor Yesharim numbers from both sides? Boy calls: where is there a geshmak place to shmooze for a third date? Boy’s mother calls: He left his hat in his yeshivah in Brooklyn. Is there a hat gemach in Chiacgo? (Problem solved: My next-door neighbor’s son’s hat should do the trick.) Urgent text from girl: Where am I going for tonight’s date? Heels or no heels? Answer the phone, girl’s mother calling. “It’s seven p.m. in the summer and the entire frum community is playing Tap Tap Trio on my block! Can you tell her date to go through the alley instead? I’ll put out a sign with our address written in red marker; it should be no problem to locate our house from the back. (He’s from Lakewood. He has no idea what an alley is.)

—Freyda Falik

On a typical day, I interview and follow up with singles. I also answer questions that come in via phone, email or text from singles, shadchanim, parents, coaches, and people searching for guidance in navigating the shidduch journey. As Oorah’s shadchan, I plan events: shadchan meetups, Shabbos retreats (we currently host two per year up at The Zone — Oorah’s campus in upstate New York), and mini-shabbatons in various locales.

 –Raizelle Serebrowski

Lots of meetings! I meet an average of three new people per day and more on Motzaei Shabbos. Aside from guiding my own shidduchim through their dating process, I work as a dating coach, and give classes for seminaries and kiruv programs about the dating process. I also give online courses to train shadchanim and dating mentors.

 —Merissa Gross

My role in a nutshell is to suggest names to parents, give them the information that I was given about the other side (basic background, schools/yeshivahs, job, neighbors and friends) and then wish them the best of luck in finding out more. In the chassidish world, the research process is the main part of a shidduch. Unlike the litvish world, where it’s assumed that the boy and girl will each try to learn more about the other while they’re dating, here the children rely completely on their parents’ research.

Yichus is very important and parents will do a lot of research into the extended family. Often, they’ll come back to me to ask why the uncle got divorced or what illness the sister had. Or they’ll discover that the girl was out of school for two months in tenth grade. That’s when I turn into a mediator, going back to the other side to delicately get this information.

–Miriam Kapilowitz