A mother’s guide to mesivta season

Illustrations by Esti Friedman Saposh

IFyou have a son in eighth grade, that means you already:

Chose a babysitter for him,

and chose a two-year-old playgroup,

and then chose a three-year-old playgroup,

and ditto for four-year-olds, which was a big year, because next year he starts school, so you did extra research before registering,

and then went through the whole application and registration process for elementary school (it took you until he was in seventh grade to recover).

So you would think that now, on the cusp of high school, you would be qualified to choose an appropriate mesivta for your son. I mean, you’re a pro by now, no?

No. The mesivta application process is entirely different, and all your previous methods for making educational decisions are useless here. But don’t worry, I did it, survived, and hereby present you with the mother’s guide to the mysterious and maddening world of mesivta applications.

The Chavrusa

This is how it works, at least for mesivtas in the US: You choose which mesivtas to apply to, then your son takes a farher at each one. Out-of-town yeshivos will mail you an acceptance or rejection letter, in-town yeshivos will tell you immediately if he’s accepted. (They will also report to your menahel, and you can check in with him to see how things stand.) Once you’re accepted, you have to accept the slot or decline more or less within a day.

Eeek.

So when my oldest son started eighth grade, I did what every self-respecting woman does: I called my older sister. She had a son in tenth grade, so she obviously knew everything.

“The first thing,” she told me, “is to get him a chavrusa.”

For the uninitiated, “chavrusa” in this context means a paid chavrusa, ideally a rebbi who teaches older grades, who will learn with your son in the evening to prepare him for farhers.

If you’re thinking: but my son is very smart or why can’t he learn with my husband, then you’re like me. But she was right, and I was wrong. Chavrusas of this sort are kind of de rigueur at this stage. The rebbi you hire is in the know of what eighth grade boys’ learning level is, and he’s familiar with the farher process, which your husband may not be. Also, it’s great for the boys’ self-esteem. They go to shul every evening like a real yeshivah bochur, learn for an hour with a chashuve yungerman, and get that satisfaction that comes when you’re really “holding,” and you know it. It transitions them from kid to bochur, and for that alone it’s worth every penny. (Yes, it’s a lot of pennies.)