“When a father brings his young children to a playground, it’s his responsibility to watch them”

One Day [Quick Q / Issue 959]

When I saw your Quick Q asking readers if they got in the recommended 150 minutes of exercise each week, I sighed and turned the page. I have an “on-again, off-again” relationship with exercise… and right now, we’re definitely in an “off-again” stage. Yes, I know exercise is important — for my health today as well as my future health. Yes, I’ve read all the research (or, okay, some of it) and I have workout routines ranging from seven minutes to 45. I’ve planned the perfect way to fit exercise into a busy day… but sometimes, somehow, it just doesn’t happen.

The way I see it: Exercise is important, but so are so many other things. Being a patient, present wife and mother. Keeping a clean, functional home. Sorting and folding laundry. Making my kids healthy meals that they’ll actually eat — or, absent that, making sure they’re fed. Meeting my responsibilities at work. Taking my kids to the doctor and dentist and for therapy appointments. Filing insurance claims. Bathing my little kids and being there to provide a listening ear to sulking, sullen teens. Exercising.

So, yeah. Is it any wonder that sometimes exercise falls off the list?

What I’ve learned is that — like so many busy mothers — I can’t get to everything on my to-do list. Life is a constant rehashing and reassessing of priorities. And yes, exercise often falls off the top of the list when it’s competing with a real and present need for one of my kids (or my own sanity). And I really think that’s okay — or it will need to be.

And one day, when things calm down, I’ll be able to make it a priority again.

Name Withheld

Clarifying the Training, Role, and Licensing of Mental Health Counselors [Reflections / Issue 959]

While I appreciate Sarah Chana Radcliffe’s effort to provide a basic guide to getting psychological help, I’d like to respectfully correct two important points to help readers make fully informed decisions when seeking mental health support.

First, contrary to the statement that “counselors are not trained to diagnose or treat mental health disorders,” in the vast majority of US states, Licensed Mental Health Counselors (LMHCs) and Licensed Professional Counselors (LPCs) are explicitly trained and legally authorized to both diagnose and treat mental health disorders. This is supported by state licensing laws and professional standards. For example, the US Department of Labor’s Occupational Outlook Handbook confirms that mental health counselors “diagnose and treat mental and emotional disorders.” (New York was one of the last states to restrict LMHCs from diagnosing until the diagnostic privilege became available starting June 24, 2024). Counselors must complete a master’s degree in mental health counseling or a related field, two to four years of supervised clinical experience depending on state licensing laws, and pass a national or state exam such as the NCMHCE.

Second, while it’s true that the title “counselor” isn’t protected in every jurisdiction, the practice of psychotherapy is regulated in nearly all states. In most cases, providing mental health treatment, particularly involving diagnosis or clinical intervention, requires licensure. The American Counseling Association and individual state boards clarify that individuals who are not licensed may not legally provide clinical mental health services, with rare exceptions (such as under nonprofit or religious exemptions in states like Alabama or Oregon). These cases are limited and don’t represent the norm.

When seeking therapy, it’s helpful to look for a licensed provider whose training matches your needs, such as experience with anxiety, trauma, or couples work, and whose approach feels safe, respectful, and evidence-based. Asking about their credentials, areas of specialization, and therapeutic methods can help ensure a good fit.

Mental health is far too important to be surrounded by confusion. I hope these corrections help our community understand that counselors in the US are, in fact, licensed professionals fully qualified to provide meaningful and effective care.

Elyan Rosenbaum, LMHC, LPC, NCC
EMDR, EMDR 2.0, & IFS Trained,
Anxiety & Trauma Therapist

Not Her Job [Inbox / Issue 959]

In response to the letter from Issue 959, titled “A Matter of Priorities,” I had trouble focusing on the letter writer’s point (about a girl’s parents not teaching her to be careful of cars in a parking lot, but stressing that she couldn’t drink Gatorade because it was unhealthy) because I was completely distracted by something else in the letter.

In the letter writer’s words: “My shul had organized a men’s sports game on a public field on a winter federal holiday. My young kids and one of my daughters wanted to go, so I figured I needed to go along to watch them. When we arrived there and my husband and older sons joined the men, I realized I was the only woman there and that many men had brought along their young children, who quickly wandered off, so it fell to me to watch them.”

WHY on earth would she think it was her responsibility to watch all the young children that the many men had brought along?

When a father brings his young children to a playground, it’s his responsibility to watch them, no matter how much he wants to play ball, and no matter how many other women are around. It’s not the responsibility of the other women at the park, or the only woman at the park.

I wish the letter writer had related how she stopped the game, told the fathers that their children were playing dangerous games in the parking lot, and that they needed to watch them.

I’ve seen this play out far too many times, where women take responsibility that enables the irresponsibility of others.

“I just couldn’t get over the absurdity of the situation…” the letter writer says.

I can’t either.

Name Withheld

I Don’t Sell Torah for Candy [Candy Culture / Issue 958]

The article “Candy Culture,” about how frum culture features way too much sugar consumption reminded me of an incident that occurred during our first year of aliyah, when I was working in a Talmud Torah to assist new olim from the United States acclimate to their new educational setting.

One day, I walked into the office and one of the administrators handed me a plastic container of candy. I asked him what it was for and was told that it was to be used to reward my students for good performance. “Rabbi,” I told him, “I don’t sell my children’s Torah for candy,” and left the box in the office.

That particular day, one of my students, a sweet little boy of six, had earned enough “points” for a prize. The children earned points by reading passages and explaining them or by mastering vocabulary. The youngster’s “prize” was a card on which was printed Krias Shema al Hamitah.

My philosophy is that while I don’t reward Torah learning with candy, giving a child something that will increase his learning or his observance of mitzvos is appropriate, as our Sages tell us, “One mitzvah leads to another.”

The next morning, the little boy told me, “Rabbi Werther, I put the card next to my bed and I will use it every night.” Of course, I promptly shared this news with the administrator who had given me the box of candy, telling the administrator, “The candy would have been forgotten in ten minutes, but the Krias Shema card will be treasured for a long time.”

The story didn’t end there, though, because ten years later I ran into the little boy, who had grown into a fine young man about to graduate high school. He told me that the card was still next to his bed.

Candy isn’t the only way to a child’s heart and it certainly isn’t the best one.

Shabse Werther

Ramat Bet Shemesh

A Sugar Problem Indeed [Candy Culture / Issue 958]

I have a very funny (sad?) story to share in response to the article on sugar consumption.

A neighbor of mine has a sugar-free home. She says her kids know that candy is bad for them and they don’t even like it.

I ran a baking club in my home for preschool girls. This neighbor sent her kids for a few weeks after she had a baby. (She wouldn’t normally send them, as her kids can’t eat what we make.) She said her older daughter knows not to eat any of the goodies we’d bake, but she was afraid her younger daughter would. To solve the problem, while the other girls glued their mini marshmallows onto their cookies with icing, she used glue, so she wouldn’t think any of what she made was food and thus wouldn’t eat it.

The little one got bored halfway through and went home. As soon as she left, her older sister attacked the ingredients. With her two hands, she shoveled a plateful of sugar into her mouth and promptly begged for more! I was horrified and said, “But your mommy doesn’t let!”

She gave me a huge smile and said, “I know how to brush my teeth really well so she won’t notice!”

A sugar problem indeed.

Name Withheld

Watch What You Say [Words Unspoken / Issue 957]

I was really moved by the Words Unspoken by a woman who works with at-risk girls and her message that saying kind words to girls who look lost and in pain “may be the reason a lost soul comes home.”

It reminded me of a story my father always used to say about a friend of his who went off the derech and married out. Slowly, he and his wife were becoming closer to Yiddishkeit (she was considering conversion) and they reestablished contact with the man’s family. They attended a family simchah, and the non-Jewish wife overhead two women gossiping about her and her husband very disparagingly. She and her husband were so turned off by their nastiness they lost their interest in “coming home.”

Not only do we need to say the words we don’t say, we need to not say the words we sometimes do say.

Name Withheld

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 960)