“No organization can single-handedly solve the rebbi/teacher pay crisis — but that is no reason to belittle what they can do”

A Privilege, Not a Humiliation [Inbox / Issue 962]

How ironic is it that in the very same week my family were privileged to be the grateful recipients of an incredible organization’s efforts to show their admiration and appreciation for rebbeim and teachers, I came across a letter to the editor in this magazine that completely demeaned their generosity, claiming that their method of distribution is humiliating and inconvenient for teachers?

I, along with many others in the chinuch world, was deeply impressed by the flawless execution of these packages. From beginning to end, everything was done with dignity and grace. Every detail was thoughtfully arranged to ensure it was bekavodig. The entire process was remarkable to witness — orderly, efficient, and honorable. All you had to do was sit back and drive through, as smiling kids enthusiastically loaded your trunk, each one cheerfully saying, “Thank you, Rebbi, gut Yom Tov!”

The joy on my children’s faces as they watched the kavod and esteem being given to their father was priceless. Every volunteer was on call, working tirelessly to ensure everything flowed seamlessly. And the finale — receiving a thoughtfully prepared bag, each time with a mix of treasures: a beautiful book, a candy platter, noy succah, or a USB filled with Torah shiurim and music, and more — took generosity to an entirely new level.

No organization can single-handedly solve the rebbi/teacher pay crisis — but that is no reason to belittle what they can do. Their efforts deserve to be celebrated, not dismissed.

P. Steiner

Monsey, NY

Two Different Things [Inbox / Issue 961]

In response to the Inbox letter, “We Don’t Know Better than the Ramban,” which criticized therapy for encouraging bad middos, I believe the letter writer is using the terms emotion and middah interchangeably. While I certainly don’t profess to know better than the illustrious Ramban, to clarify the terms, emotions are feelings. Hashem created us with feelings that are an emotional response to a stimulus. Feelings are fleeting and often not even an accurate representation of reality. How we act or don’t act on those feelings is what tikkun hamiddos is about. What needs to happen after the initial feeling or emotion is felt is a rational, intellectual reflection as to how we responded to the feeling and acted upon it. The hope is that our inborn character traits that need refinement will be built on this reflective process so that we will not act on our feelings in ways the Torah advises against or even prohibits. It’s a lifetime of conscious work to refine our actions that result from our feelings and internalize our awareness so that we may truly achieve tikkun hamiddos.

T.L.

Yeridos Hadoros Indeed  [Point of View / Issue 961]

I’m responding to the article questioning whether or not teenage girls should babysit or do chesed outside of the home. I’m having the same stress as one of the moms who responded, the one whose daughter’s special-needs program has been cut back — not for lack of funding, but because there aren’t enough teenage volunteers to keep it running. As the coordinator put it, we’re watching yeridas hadoros play out in real time.

I’ve been hunting for a teen to help me evenings (yes, for actual money!), but every call ends the same: “Sorry, can’t, I’m out with friends.” Cue me banging my head against the wall.

Back when I was a teen, evenings meant babysitting or being a mother’s helper (we Brits even had a name for it — “tea timing”). That’s how we learned to show up, work hard, and eventually grow into capable, responsible adults.

So if this generation is too busy hanging out, what’s going to happen when real adulthood comes calling?

Name Withheld

Bewildered and Surprised [Point of View / Issue 961]

I read the responses to whether teenagers should be allowed to engage in chesed with utter bewilderment. First, chesed is the very hallmark of who we are as a nation. Why would parents do anything other than encourage their daughters to help others? What sort of adults will they become?

More importantly, I’m surprised at the implication that our girls are volunteering less. I’ve literally no idea which teenagers you’re referring to. I don’t think I’m unique in living in a community where our girls are the bedrock of numerous organizations that provide vital support to so many. I know dozens of teenagers who care for children with special needs after school, during their vacation times, and on Shabbos mornings.

I know dozens more who support children when they have a parent with cancer Rachmana litzlan, do the grocery shopping for those in need, visit hospitals, nursing homes.... Need I go on? I know so many mothers who are dependent on babysitting help and are so grateful to the wonderful girls who are adored by their children when they come.

What a bizarre indictment so unjustly applied to such an exceptional group.

As to the other legitimate concerns about safety and exposure to inappropriate material when babysitting in others’ homes, just as with everything else when parenting: Apply common sense.

E. Cohen

London

So Much to Think About [Musings / Issue 960]

The essay “Why Did He Cry Wolf?” which tried to imagine what was going through the boy’s head when he cried wolf, totally threw me. I didn’t know whether to laugh, cry, or shout at it — it was that thought-provoking.

Part of me was like, this is classic 21st-century thinking — explaining away everything, excusing people instead of holding them responsible. But another part of me thought, wow, this is actually so moving — a reflection of how far we’ve come in trying to see the good, to understand people, to make sure they’re not just okay physically but emotionally, too.

And then there was the mom in me, flashing back to the time my son’s rebbi called to say he was having trouble breathing. I rolled my eyes, told him to walk up a steep flight of stairs to meet me — and only realized it was serious when the pediatrician took one look and said, “Ambulance.” I’ll never forget how fast that ambulance drove.

At the end of the day, though, we can only go by what we see in front of us. The “why” behind someone’s actions — that’s hidden. All we can do is respond the best way we know how, and hope we get the help we need to steer our kids right.

Name Withheld

Correction: The Real Life in Issue 962 was credited “as told to Aliza Hornstein,” but is actually her personal story. We regret the error.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 964)