“It was their difficult choices and inner work that made them who they were — not inborn perfection”

It Takes Work to Be Great [Joint Forces / Issue 939]

The feature about the relationship between gedolim and their spouses was a sweet read. It was clear lots of research went into it. I was a bit bothered, though, by one point.

While obviously it wouldn’t be prudent to highlight the “flaws” of such tremendous gedolim and their rebbetzins, I fear there is a grave disservice done when such Torah leaders are painted in a nothing-less-than-perfect light — no internal battles, no mistakes or even slipups, basically no yetzer hara.

In the famous letter from Rav Yitzchak Hutner to a talmid, he writes that it is the failings of an individual that makes him grow and become great — literally because of the struggle and because of the way they work through it, they develop their gadlus. It’s not because they naturally, easily react properly all the time.

The couples presented were leaders of true greatness who towered head and shoulders above us little people in their Torah and in their middos. But let’s not make them out to be malachim. It was their difficult choices and inner work that made them who they were — not inborn perfection.

Leba Friedman

Inspired [Joint Forces / Issue 939]

I found the article Joint Forces so touching. To have a close-up look into the relationships of the gedolim was just breathtakingly beautiful. The way they treated each other, spoke to each other, did for each other and for the klal — I kept going back to the article as there was so much to learn from! Thank you for the wonderful dose of inspiration.

Renelle Maslaton

What Was the Point? [Blurred Boundaries / Issue 939]

I read the article about an overenthusiastic rebbi, his talmid and the talmid’s concerned parents with much confusion. As someone in chinuch and an avid reader, I understand that every article has a purpose. Yet I found myself wondering — what exactly were you trying to achieve with this piece?

Surely the goal wasn’t to encourage parents to begin micro-assessing every action taken by their children’s teachers. That would be counterproductive and harmful.

There is a fundamental issue with the story presented: Where was the communication between the parents and the rebbi? The mother waited until the situation had escalated before reaching out. In her mind, she was concerned — but this could have been a wonderful opportunity for an open and respectful conversation with the rebbi much earlier on.

Yes, there may be extreme cases where involving the school administration is appropriate. But in most situations, the first and most vital step should be clear, respectful, and direct communication. That was notably absent here.

Furthermore, the entire story hinges on the observations of a sixth-grade boy. From experience, we know that when a rebbi shares his perspective, many of the things parents worry about often turn out to be misunderstandings — not because the parent is wrong to care, but because they’re seeing only one side, through the lens of a child.

In this particular case, the child clearly needed extra attention and support. It didn’t seem that the parents were fully providing it, so naturally, he gravitated toward an adult who genuinely cared for him. That’s not a red flag — that’s a sign of a rebbi doing his job.

One line in the article was especially offensive to those of us in chinuch: “Maybe it wasn’t my business, but I couldn’t help wondering how Rabbi Ginsberg — on a rebbi’s salary — had the means to sponsor such generous prizes.”

Did the writer truly think he robbed a bank? Those of us in chinuch make an active choice to dedicate our lives to your children. And when we see something as meaningful and important, we will find a way to make it happen — whether it’s with our own funds, help from donors, or sheer creativity.

Throughout the article, the mother questions herself, which might appear to be an honest self-reflection. But ultimately, we only hear two versions of the same story — hers and her interpretation of her son’s. The rebbi’s voice is completely absent.

At the very least, I believe an apology is due — to the mechanchim and mechanchos who dedicate their lives to the chinuch of your children, often with little recognition, and sometimes, as in this case, with unfair suspicion.

D.A.

A Chance to Gain Grit [Horses and Home Depot / Issue 936]

I’m responding to the article that highlighted the family in Baltimore that chooses to homeschool their children. I truly respect their choice and it obviously seems like this system works for them, as well as for many other families in their community.

Aside from arguing that homeschooling requires one parent to not work (which is financially unfeasible for many families), I wanted to raise a separate point regarding an argument made in the article in support of homeschooling that I feel could be detrimental.

The interviewee spoke about how homeschooling allows for her kids to spend time on hobbies and activities that interest them. I would 100 percent agree that many subjects taught in school are absolutely unnecessary for practical daily living (does anyone really pick up a compass today to draw a circle — unless you’re an architect? Though I would imagine computers can do that for you anyway!)

However, I’d like to argue that likely the most important value or characteristic that is taught (or more like passively gained) by being in a traditional school setting is the characteristic of grit — being able to push through and persevere when the going gets tough. Going to school day in and day out, contending with a rigorous double curriculum, and studying endless hours for tests and exams teaches children how to manage time, persevere, and develop an invaluable work ethic.

Today, I work as an accountant and am the manager of my team. There’s no question that I’ve gotten to where I am today because of the soft skills I gained while being in school.

Chances are, our kids will spend some time in a job at some point in their lives doing things that aren’t particularly exciting. They may also have a boss that isn’t the warmest or friendliest individual nor the most pleasant person to be around. They may also have some less-than-ideal coworkers, or be placed in a work environment that is challenging. None of this is a bad thing. In fact, I’m arguing that this is all very healthy and normal and teaches us how to persevere despite being in less-than-ideal circumstances. (Of course, I’m not talking about anything halachically impermissible or anything that infringes on inappropriate boundaries.)

It sounds like one of the driving factors of choosing to homeschool is specifically to avoid some of these discomforts (school subjects that are boring, a bad fit with a teacher, a long day at school, spending time on subjects that aren’t relevant for real life), which sounds great and exciting, but how will this impact kids when they go out and get their first job? Or contend with their first uncomfortable conversation with a boss? How will they handle personalities that may clash, or deal with the menial work that is always given to a junior employee? I wonder if these children are built to withstand these challenges in the same way if their days consist of activities and lessons that are all fun and exciting, all the time?

Julie S., New York

Correction: The Great Reads story in Issue 940, The Grandest of Exits, was mistakenly labeled as Fiction. It was nonfiction and should have been under the heading Real Life. We apologize for the confusion.

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 941)