“Why are we so afraid to set boundaries with our boys and encourage them to think of others?”
Guests or Family Members? [Lifetakes / Issue 907]
Thank you, Rikki Schultz, for your humorous and well-written take on mothering bochurim during bein hazmanim and your dilemma over whether or not you should have insisted your boys make do with grilled chicken when you ran out of burgers. Although I definitely relate to some of it, I’d like to suggest that what is really bothering you isn’t the lost value of making do, but the false notion that our bochurim should be treated as guests in our homes, to be indulged during their bein hazmanim stay.
Of course, we all want our children to enjoy their vacations and feel recharged when they head back to a structured learning environment, but I really wonder if you’d have the same guilty, waffling reaction if your teenage daughters had a similar desire for an alternative supper. Why are we so afraid to set boundaries with our boys and encourage them to think of others?
Let’s honor our bochurim by gifting them the dignity of being members of the family, with all the responsibilities, sensitivity to others, and character building it encompasses. These are traits that will serve them well when they eventually fly the coop and raise their own broods.
Rivkie S.
You Put My Feelings into Words [To Be Honest / Issue 907]
It sounds as if this piece, written by a mother fiercely rallying against being pitied for having a son off the derech, was written for me, using my thoughts and feelings. Other than certain details that are different, my children were certain that I wrote it.
You included all the feelings I have: the searing pain, the periods where I fall apart, the love of and pride in our children who are different because they truly are amazing people, our understanding that their journey, too, is created by Hashem, that the burden is great, and that we don’t want pity — and all of this simultaneously. You didn’t miss a thing and you described it all in such an eloquent and a yet heartfelt way.
Thank you for putting my emotions into words.
Wishing us all strength, positivity, the ability to keep our heads up, and nachas in any and all ways.
R.
Brooklyn, NY
They Got It in School [Inbox / Issue 907]
In her inbox letter about the importance of girls going to seminary in Israel, Mrs. Rudman wrote that girls, “gain tremendously, go from being shomer Torah u’mitzvos and ‘doing what I have to do,’ to feeling joy in what they are doing... they work on their davening, develop a relationship with HaKadosh Baruch Hu. They go from going through the motions to being yotzei having davened, to really talking to Hashem. I see the girls solidify their chashivus haTorah and go back with an excitement to marry a ben Torah and build a beautiful bayis ne’eman b’Yisrael.”
I understand that living in Eretz Yisrael is of tremendous value, with the Kosel, kivrei tzaddikim, seeing how people live there, etc. Being forced to live in a dorm is a learning opportunity.
However, by the time a girl comes to seminary, her parents already spent over 100K on her Jewish education. Could someone please tell me, in all this time, has she or has she not worked on her davening, learned to serve Hashem with joy, and developed a relationship with Him and chashivus for His Torah? If yes, why is seminary necessary aside from the value Eretz Yisrael value adds? And if not, then where were we all this time, what were our girls learning in school, and why are we all sleeping?
Name Withheld
Support, Don’t Push [To Be Honest / Issue 906]
Thank you for Yocheved Davidowitz’s excellent article, “You’re Not His Mashgiach.” In my work with many women, I’ve found that this topic is highly charged and pervasive, and can be traced back to the well-intentioned lessons taught in high school and seminary. Our girls are taught to look for the “top boy” — and of course that includes going to minyan three times a day, as well as learning full-time, or at least every spare moment outside of work. They also learn that they’re the ezer k’negdo, and that their own sechar is tied up with his — is it any wonder that they feel the responsibility to push him toward those goals?
While there is truth in each of those statements, the nuances are missing. In addition to the excellent points brought by Mrs. Davidowitz, I would add these:
It’s easier to want a top boy than to be a top boy. The life of a frum man is rigorous and demanding. Learning “full time” requires the ability to focus on esoteric intellectual pursuits for many hours of the day, and a working man faces the challenge of both supporting his family and finding the time and energy to learn and run out to minyan several times a day. While frum wives and mothers have their own challenges, it is difficult for them to appreciate what their husbands are pressured to accomplish every single day.
There is a difference between what to look for when you are getting married, to how you deal with the person you are married to. When seeking a spouse, we make our hishtadlus to find the idealized person who has the qualities we value: good middos, commitment to Torah, cheerful, and kind. Once we are married, however, the focus pivots to: How can I best appreciate the full and multifaceted package of this person who is my husband?
The ezer k’negdo supports (rather than pushes) her husband to achieve his own unique and personal potential. I heard from one of my students that her seminary head said: “We spent all those years teaching our students to be good kollel wives. We forgot to teach them to be good wives.” Rather than trying to cram her husband into the one-size-fits-all box of must-daven-with-minyan-and-learn-every-minute, the wise wife notices and encourages her own husband’s personal successes in ruchniyus (and every other positive trait and accomplishment). Acknowledgement, appreciation, praise, and admiration will accomplish what disapproval, contempt, pushing, nagging, and reminding cannot. A prepacked lunch or snack to grab on his way to learning, a siyum celebrating a milestone (no matter how small), and a big smile welcoming him home, will go a long way to building her husband into the eved Hashem that, deep down, he longs to be.
Alisa Avruch
Marriage Coach, The Secret Spark
Keep Dancing [Windows / Issue 903]
In response to Rivka Green’s piece, “Research,” about her emotionally indulgent versus her firm response to her preteen daughter’s drama, as a fellow Mom in the Trenches, I’d like to comment.
There’s a Mom Honor Code that makes it taboo for one of us to judge another, but as Rivka so honestly opened herself up to feedback, I’d like to share my thoughts, reflecting the lessons I’ve learned in the School of Hard Knocks.
Rivka’s Exhibit A featured Preteen Daughter in distress due to Bad Hair Experience, and Mom understanding, empathizing, validating that very real and significant discomfort. Well done, Mom! Preteen’s angst is real, her hair is Her, and the blow to her appearance a blow to Self.
Exhibit B shows Preteen Daughter engaging in typical “I Wanna” behavior, I’ll Try Daddy Because Mommy Will Never Say Yes. It may or may not be a real want, it may or may not be meaningful, but Daughter has a pretty good sense that she’s trying her luck.
Hey, Mom, some empathy never hurts, but Daughter’s really okay, she knew this was a long shot, and the drama, is just, well, drama….
Mommy, you’re awesome! Kudos! You’ve opened yourself up, expressed your vulnerability, and are actively reflecting on your interactions. Sheyirbukamoscha b’Yisrael!
But your experiment doesn’t include two “like” exhibits. One is real and deep, and the other… not really. And that’s the Mommy Dance, knowing when and how to pirouette. Keep empathizing, Mom, keep validating, your understanding is fortifying Daughter, you’re infusing her with strength and emotional endurance. Don’t devalue the power of your empathy, do differentiate between Real and Not Really.
