The debate about the seminary year continues to draw passionate feedback from our readers

Top Students Work Hard › An 11th Grader

A recent Inbox letter decried the fact that top students get into “top” seminaries more easily than their “erlich and wonderful” counterparts who are simply more academically challenged. As someone who has always been an honors student, I can tell you that it takes a lot of hard work to get straight As, and the fact that a student is successful doesn’t mean that school is a breeze for her. Even if a girl doesn’t need to study or work hard in the traditional sense, there are plenty of other ways to work hard.

For instance, it’s very hard to show up to classes where you understood the material the first time, and the teacher repeats that material for the next 50 minutes. Imagine working a job like that upward of eight hours, five days a week, for 12 years. That’s hard. But us straight-A girls who “aren’t working hard,” because school is “easy for us,” do it anyway.

We’re told that there’s a light at the end of the tunnel — the magical place called “seminary.” So long as we stick it out and get good grades instead of not showing up to school or spacing out or sleeping in class, we can get into the seminary of our choice, and finally learn at our level.

For some reason, though, there are people who believe we don’t deserve that. They say that because we “didn’t work hard,” we don’t deserve to be taught at our level. Therefore, the girls who get Bs should be accepted into seminary instead of us.

If everyone just admitted that different people have different academic capabilities, and that every level is wonderful because Hashem made every level, and everything Hashem makes is perfect, then there wouldn’t be “top seminaries.” There would be “the best seminary for you.” Then the girls who get Bs would be happy to apply and get accepted into seminaries that are able to cater to their unique levels and interests, and the girls who get straight As wouldn’t have to deal with learning that is watered down in order to cater to the other levels.

It’s unhealthy and wrong to tell girls who get Bs to try to get into seminaries that aren’t made for them and won’t be good for them, and it’s equally wrong to put down the girls who Hashem blessed with academic success. For some reason, we can celebrate talents like singing and dancing without making the people who lack those talents feel bad about themselves. Why is it that when it comes to academics, if you’re good at them, you’re made to feel bad by having your hard work overlooked or denied, and if you’re bad at them, you’re made to feel bad for not being created on someone else’s academic level?

Footnote from her parents:

We’re just glad that the girl who tried hard got Bs, because if she had tried hard and gotten As, people would say that she didn’t try hard.

And don’t worry, when those girls from top seminaries get back, the seminary will be a nice footnote on their résumé as people try to mute any mention of intellect or intensity so the “don’t worry, they’re smart enough to get into a top seminary but they’re not too smart” girls can get a date.

What’s the Alternative? › Mother of Daughters

I’d like to address two recent angles in the ongoing discussion about seminary. First, to the writer who wonders why it’s the “straight A student” who is accepted to the “top” seminary, I have a few things to say. Since time immemorial, there have been two lines of thought in limud haTorah. There were those who accepted only brilliant scholars to their houses of learning, and those who welcomed anyone with an earnest desire to learn and grow. There is room for both in Yiddishkeit. If I am not mistaken, the renowned Yeshivas Chachmei Lublin accepted only budding scholars into its ranks.

The debate around having mixed or tracked classes is not new. And while there are valid points on both sides, it cannot be denied that the overall level of learning in any institution follows the average, and the higher the average, the higher the level of learning.

But most telling, you yourself define the most academic seminaries as “top.” If a girl who earns Bs can be called “top” — and she most certainly can — why can’t a seminary that caters to girls like her also be “top”? Perhaps if girls such as yourself accepted such seminaries as “top seminaries,” instead of clamoring to attend only those that catered to the most intellectually gifted students, the pain you describe could be mitigated.

As an aside, my friend’s daughter was accepted to a “top” seminary despite not having sterling grades, to say the least. So it’s also not true that there’s a blanket standard. No two girls are identical in all ways except for their grade point average as a recent letter implied. Many things are taken into consideration.

But now I move to the other angle: Is seminary necessary altogether? In short, no. Sure, it’s nice, but necessary? Certainly not. As a mother of seven girls who attended five different seminaries, it seems to me that Bais Yaakov high schools have upped their game. My girls were taught things in high school that I was only taught in seminary.

Almost all of them returned from their year in Israel underwhelmed by the classes and teachers. They felt they were “fine, but not as good as high school.” While spending a year in Eretz Yisrael is certainly a valuable experience, it does not seem to justify the astronomical cost.

So why did I send them? Yes, I wanted them to spend time in Eretz Yisrael, but a summer program could accomplish that. For us, the biggest obstacle to circumventing seminary has been the lack of guidance, at least in my circles, for girls who would choose not to go. I currently have a daughter in 11th grade who is ambivalent about attending seminary. One of her older sisters was similarly ambivalent. But the discussion boils down to: If you don’t go to seminary, what will you do next year?  My girls’ high school spends enormous amounts of time and resources directing students on their path to seminary, but offers no guidance for girls who would choose differently.

For my girls, attending seminary has nothing to do with shidduchim or doing what everyone does; the difficulty we have experienced is in carving an alternative plan. Perhaps if high schools put as much effort into this as into the seminary track — not that either is their responsibility, but they are in a position to help — a meaningful shift could be effected.

Not Everyone Wants to Attend Seminary › Mother of a 12th Grader

This year, the seminary conversation feels especially personal to me. I have a daughter in 12th grade, and like in many schools in our community, seminary dominates the senior year. The process begins right after Succos, when applications open, and months of anticipation follow until the acceptance (or in many cases, rejection) letters arrive on February 15.

My daughter was accepted to her first-choice seminary. But after much deliberation and discussion she has decided not to go. She cannot think of any reason to go other than that “everyone else goes.” After posing the question to many teachers and girls, she did not hear any compelling reasons to spend a year in Israel. It seems that for mature girls who have a solid Bais Yaakov education there is not that much more to be gained by spending a year in Israel.

This is not a case of a struggling or disengaged student. On the contrary, my daughter is a wonderful girl with excellent grades and beautiful middos. She is popular and well-liked by her peers and was chosen to be one of the heads of her school production, an honor that reflects both her leadership and character. She went through the application process and was accepted to a top seminary.

And still, she does not want to go.

In fact, she has been saying this consistently for the past four years. Her position is thoughtful and deliberate. She is independent and mature, and she does not feel that spending a year in seminary in Israel would add significantly to what she has already gained.

Part of this perspective comes from what she hears from friends currently in seminary. Some describe the experience as far less inspiring than they expected. Many speak about a difficult adjustment period. “Everyone cries until Chanukah,” as the saying goes. Others say the classes feel understimulating and not very different from high school.

Interestingly, my daughter says that there are whispers among the girls that they don’t want to go. Most girls are afraid to even say it aloud because of the ramifications of not going to a “good” seminary in Israel. They fear they will be perceived as social misfits, and that it will impact their future shidduchim.

A few of my daughter’s friends told her she’s so lucky she has the courage to say she doesn’t want to go. They are dreading going, but are allowing their parents to spend $35,000 to do something they’re not excited about, just to fit in. Many of her teachers have praised her for having the strength to go against the tide.

But all this raises a broader question.

In a community where a year in seminary in Israel has become the assumed next step after high school, what happens when a capable, motivated, and well-adjusted girl simply feels that it is not the right path for her?

Is there room in the conversation for girls who may grow and thrive in different ways?

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1103)