They're still home, but Shuli Halpert won't quit until they all have a school

Photos: Naftoli Goldgrab

Shuli Halpert knows all too well the misery of being rejected by school after school, a road he himself traveled years back. Today, as most kids have settled into the routine of a new academic year, he’s busy working the phones, advocating for the dozens of young people on his list who are sitting home, waiting in pain and shock for a placement this fall. Yet through the rejections and the tears, Shuli encourages parents not to lose hope

He’s not a member of Hatzalah, a volunteer firefighter, or an ER physician. But ask anyone who knows Shuli Halpert, and they’ll tell you that he saves lives on a daily basis, making phone calls and arranging meetings on behalf of the alarming number of kids whose elusive dream is to be able to go to school just like everyone else. Over the past 17 years during which he’s been deep in the trenches finding places for kids who aren’t accepted to any yeshivah or Bais Yaakov, Halpert, or simply "Shuli", as he's affectionately known, has seen how being left schoolless can shatter a child and devastate their parents as well.

A businessman who lived most of his life in Brooklyn where he’s served as a manager for real estate company Century Holding for nearly four decades, Shuli and his wife Pamela moved to a development in Jackson, New Jersey two years ago, settling in a place filled with young families instead of going to a 55-plus community like many of their friends. Despite being more than twice as old as most of the other mispallelim in his shul, the great-grandfather with the trim white beard and kind eyes says he feels very much at home in Jackson, a place where he can keep his finger firmly on the pulse of the younger generation.

“It’s perfect for me,” says Shuli. “I’m one of the guys.”

Because building a rapport with kids is a key element in identifying a school that would be a good fit, being relatable is a priority for Shuli. His colored shirts make him more approachable, and instead of farhering boys on a masechta, the 69-year-old quizzes them on sports instead.

Shuli knows all too well the pain — for both parents and children — of being rejected by school after school. It is a road he himself traveled some 25 years ago, and its imprint is indelibly stamped on his heart. Even today, as most parents and kids are settling into the comfortable routine of a new academic year with fresh notebooks, shoes, and schedules, Shuli is busy working the phones. With two dozen boys and girls on his list who have yet to find placement, resting just isn’t an option, because he knows all too well that young lives are at stake.