“What’s wrong is that I told her to cancel her enrollment at the university without telling her parents”

Chava looked across the table, wondering what she could say to Tammy to put her at ease.

“I’m here for you,” she said, leaning forward. “Please feel free to ask me whatever you want. It’s an amazing opportunity for professional development. I wish I’d had a mentoring program when I was starting out.”

Tammy made a face. “You didn’t need one.”

It had been Rabbi Freund’s idea for the two of them to meet for the first time in Chava’s new position as supervisor — or mentor, as she preferred to call it to Tammy — at a café. The atmosphere would be more relaxed outside of the workplace, he’d said, and Chava had agreed. Not that Tammy was looking very relaxed.

“Are you kidding? Everyone needs one!” Chava decided to address the elephant in the room. “Do you think I didn’t make mistakes when I first started?”

Tammy looked at her skeptically. “Like what?”

Chava chuckled. “I remember in my second year of teaching, I had a student, a really sweet, sincere girl, who came from a more modern background. She was enrolled in a top secular university for the following year — Harvard, Yale, something like that. Of course, I couldn’t let her get lost on a secular college campus, and I worked hard to convince her to do one of the more frum-friendly programs instead.”

Tammy raised an eyebrow. “Well, what’s wrong with that?”

“What’s wrong is that I told her to cancel her enrollment at the university without telling her parents.”

Tammy whistled.

“Yeah, I was young and stupid and was so sure that this was the best way to go about it, so that her parents wouldn’t have the chance to change her mind.”

Tammy was wide-eyed. “You didn’t worry about their reaction?”