“No, we’re not impressed, we don’t think it’s interesting; in fact, we think you’re being downright dumb, irresponsible, and immature”

Yeshivos Provide Regular Education [Inbox / Issue 1036]

Like the writer of the letter  “Yeshivos, Take Note,” by a parent of a child diagnosed with ADHD and anxiety who complained that the school (and rebbi) weren’t meeting their son’s needs, I, too, thank Rabbi Dr. Nachi Felt for sharing his personal experiences and challenges, and for inspiring those with ADHD (and their parents) to see how much they can achieve with the proper guidance and support.

However, I do take issue with the writer of the letter. While I thoroughly sympathize with the plight of parents of a child with ADHD or any other learning disability, it is important to understand that a “regular education” yeshivah is just that. Yeshivos and day schools are dealing with full classes. The teachers and rebbeim are trained to teach a full class and attempt to balance the many needs of their students. Of course teachers modify work and adapt as they see necessary. Of course there are resource rooms, OTs, PTs, speech therapists, social workers, and psychologists to aid in the process.

I’ve been a teacher for 30 plus years in a Modern Orthodox school. With all of the above resources that we have available, it’s often not enough for a child with extra needs.

Please also consider that a teacher isn’t only dealing with one child who has additional needs. Often there are quite a few in the classroom with different needs who require other accommodations. Teachers are trying to ensure that everyone in the class’s needs are met. When each parent asks for “just one or two small adjustments” for her child, it adds up to many. Given the time constraints and minimal resources, it’s not always possible.

Teachers and rebbeim are skilled and well trained in regular education. We do have professional development training… for regular ed. We do our best. You have mentioned that, as a community, we’ve made great strides in other areas. Please note that your examples (children at risk and off the derech) aren’t getting the programs you mention in standard yeshivos and schools, rather in specialized programs. Standard schools and yeshivos can only do so much.

I think people should know that teachers care very much, and push themselves to do whatever they can to reach as many children as they can in the classroom. I wish parents could understand that it’s a classroom. It’s not private tutoring. When teachers do push themselves to accommodate extra needs, it’s out of love for their students and the desire to help. It shouldn’t be demanded, but rather appreciated.

M.S.

Far Rockaway

I Learned So Much from Him [For All and Forever / Issue 1036]

Kudos to Shmuel Botnick for his beautiful article about Rabbi Moshe Blaustein.

While I’m neither a Toronto native nor an alumnus of Camp Agudah Toronto, I’m a son-in-law of a Toronto family. During the Yamim Tovim my family and I have spent in the city over the years, we took full advantage of the Chol Hamoed learning programs at the Agudah that Rabbi Blaustein led.

Being that my children were in a place they were unfamiliar with, Rabbi Blaustein made sure to include them and help them feel at home, and my children were drawn to this Pied Piper!

I myself was able to develop a kesher with him and feel very lucky to have done so. I learned much from this immensely talented person who used his talent to inspire so many.

Eli Neuberger

Baltimore

They’re Protecting Us [Last Prayer for My Son / Issue 1036]

I wanted to thank you for — and encourage you to continue — writing about the soldiers that were killed protecting Am Yisrael. Because whether you believe in the State of Israel or not, this is what the soldiers are doing: They’re protecting Am Yisrael. This has encouraged me to tell my young son — and I hope to encourage others to tell theirs — to say, “My learning is in the zechus of the soldiers protecting Am Yisrael” each day before he goes to school and when he learns at home or does homework.

I hope to compile a list, with pictures, of as many soldiers as I can, so that my son can see whose protection he is learning for. It’s not only the learning of those in high school or beis medrash, “it’s gonna be the little kinderlach” that will protect our soldiers and “make Mashiach come.”

Name Withheld

The Vindication of Chaykie [The Kichels / Issue 1036]

As another long-time fan of The Kichels, I was dismayed to find that, of late, the cartoon has become an example of satire gone wrong. Instead of lampooning the traits and attitudes we (should) decry, the good guys have become the butt of the joke.

I couldn’t agree more with the reader who objected to The Kichels in issue 1034, which portrayed the father as a blundering fool. Is Mishpacha okay with thousands of eye-rolling teens reading the world’s leading frum magazine and finding corroboration of Peppa Pig’s attitude of “silly Daddy”?

I also believe the same inversion of irony occurred in this week’s strip. We’re obviously shown the wrong woman in tears. We find the lovely Chaykie craving connection and friendship, and going out of her way to welcome a new neighbor. Why exactly does she end up as the figure of ridicule? I guess the authors made an attempt to focus on the issue plaguing our Instagram-driven society. But what do they conclude? If anything, the new neighbor with her condescending behavior should have been exposed as lacking warmth and authenticity, and perhaps as the truly dysfunctional one, sacrificing all to portray perfection on the outside, while struggling to hold things together behind closed doors.

Now that would have made for some useful satire.

Tamar Fischer

Zurich

We’re Not Impressed [On Site / Issue 1036]

I’m actually confused as to the point of the articles highlighting a man’s trips to dangerous Middle Eastern countries. In the first couple of weeks, I thought it was odd and off-putting, but this past week crossed a line. Why would you celebrate and document a person’s trip to one of the most dangerous countries in the world: Afghanistan? Are we supposed to be impressed by the fact that he was dumb enough to go into terrorists’ lair? Do you think that we think it’s cool that he’s putting himself in a makom sakanah?

No, we’re not impressed, we don’t think it’s interesting; in fact, we think you’re being downright dumb, irresponsible, and immature. Your life is supposed to be sacred, and traveling to countries like Afghanistan is a pure violation of halachah — besides the number of other people’s lives that you would be putting in danger if you get caught and expect people to come rescue you. If you still want to do it, it’s your own life. But I have zero understanding of why Mishpacha would print articles lauding and documenting this man’s insanity.

B.B.

Too Many Boundaries Crossed [Picture This / Issue 1036]

I love Mishpacha serials, but I honestly feel that the Yonah and Estee version of shanah rishonah has gone too far. While I appreciate that it is important for all young people to be taught that any marriage requires a lot of work especially during shanah rishonah, the boundaries that are being crossed again and again in this story are too much.

The scene of Estee’s mother yanking open that curtain took me back two decades to my shanah rishonah. I’d been married only three weeks when one evening late at night I developed severe stomach pain. The details are fuzzy, but I do remember crying to my poor new husband that I needed my mother. I’m sure that my husband, being the sweet and sensitive person he is, was likely showering me with kindness and care, but I guess in our new relationship it wasn’t what I thought I needed. My husband acquiesced (though many years later he shared how hurt he was) and my mother drove 30 minutes from across town and knocked at our front door. I remember opening the door and her giving me a hug and gently telling me that I have a husband now and that we can take care of each other. I remember begging her to come in and stay with me that night, and her giving me another hug and turning to leave.

My husband later told me that when he walked my mother out to her car, my mother told him how hard it was for her to leave, but that she needed to put her feelings aside and do what she felt was important for us as a couple.

That episode passed and ended well, baruch Hashem, but the lesson my mother taught us as a young couple was for life. Besides the fact that I learned early on to depend on my husband during times of need, my husband insists that it was a pivotal moment which cemented not only our relationship, but also his own relationship with my mother. He saw how much she respected him and trusted him to take care of me, and how much she valued us as a unit. It was with those boundaries firmly in place that almost three decades later when my mother needed more support, my husband lovingly welcomed my mother to live with us and share our home.

Now there may be cases where a new spouse simply can’t give his/her wife/husband what they need in a certain medical crisis or additional support from parents is needed, but it should always be offered with respect to the new spouse and without eclipsing the new relationship.

Please, Mishpacha, let’s try to show young couples the challenging realities of shanah rishonah without going to extremes.

A Wife of a Husband with a Special Mother-in-Law

Yasher Koach from Your Neighbors [Undivided Attention / Issue 1035]

I just finished reading the article about Rabbi Dr. Nachi Felt, the ADHD specialist, and his struggle with ADHD, and am in awe of him and his wonderful parents. The Felts were neighbors of ours in Kew Gardens and the family was so leibedig and fun that we never noticed Nachi’s struggles. We in Queens want Rabbi Dovid, Devorah, and Nachi to know how proud we are of his accomplishments in overcoming his challenges and devoting his time and knowledge to helping others with the same or similar nisayon.

Yasher koyach from your friends on 116th Street!

Mrs. Baila Willig

More Than Just Good Fiction [Calligraphy / Issue 1033]

Thank you so much for the Calligraphy story “Till It’s Over,” by Ora McCarthy. I was so, so pained by the story, the thought of the unfairness, pain, and suffering and the fact there was no nice solution. I felt like crying. Besides it being an absolutely amazing piece of written fiction, it actually inspired me and helped me keep back from complaining to and about someone else who was mistreating me. The author has the zechus of me biting my tongue in pain when someone yet again spoke in a mean way or hurt me for no reason. In my mind I repeated the line from the story, “You think the Eibeshter is discharging you?” Yes, we are serving Him, and though it’s not easy, He knows and sees our struggles, and knows what we’re mevater on. May He very soon be mevater on His kavod and bring the Geulah! I’d love to see more from this writer.

R.N.

The Crowning Glory of the Magazine [Crowning Glory of Radomsk / Issue 1033]

The article “The Crowning Glory of Radomsk” was the crowning glory of your Succos issue. Hailing from a family who were staunch Radomsker chassidim, it’s understandable that I view it that way. But my friends shared with me that this article also impacted them tremendously.

Reb Dovi Safier deserves mega accolades for producing this magnum opus. The article brought to life the Radomsker Rebbe, ztz”l, enabling me to tap into the Rebbe’s greatness, his accomplishments despite the tragic nisyonos he dealt with, the vibrant pulse of the chassidus, and its exalted levels of Torah learning.

As the daughter of Reb Berish Erlich z”l (son of Reb Nosson Pinchus Erlich zt”l, mentioned in the article), I grew up in the shadows of that glory, my father constantly alluding to it with wistful sighs and pain-ridden reminiscences, and continuously pushing himself to live up to those ideals.

When the Rebbe fled Sosnowiec, as he was wanted by the Nazis, he found refuge in the Warsaw Ghetto and was welcomed into the attic apartment of his revered chassid, my grandfather, who was also his first cousin. (The Rebbe’s mother was my great-grandfather’s sister.)

My father shared very little of his harrowing experiences in the ghetto and camps, but we did glean some tidbits. The Rebbe insisted on going to the mikveh daily. The Rebbe’s vision was affected by his diabetes, and he needed someone to escort him. My father, a young teen, was chosen for the task because adult men were at risk of being snatched off the street.

My grandfather told my father, “If the Rebbe says to go, you go.” Each day that they returned safely was a miracle unto itself.

Such was the reverence the Rebbe was held in that although the Rebbe and my grandfather were first cousins of the same age, and my grandfather was the nasi of the Reb Meir Baal Hanes Kollel Polin and a towering talmid chacham who learned seven blatt each day and remembered every Tosafos in the Gemara, my grandfather would jump up every time the Rebbe came in to the room. The familiarity of living under one roof in close quarters — for two and a half years! — didn’t diminish his respect one iota.

My father recalled the Rebbe saying, “Amalek vet zicher hubben a mapalah, ubber vehr veist tzu mir vellen ess ibberleben?  — Amalek will definitely be defeated, but who knows if we will survive?” Tragically, the Rebbe and his family, and the chassidus, didn’t survive. On that “Black Shabbos,” as it was referred to, the close to 30 people crammed into the Erlich attic apartment were shot in cold blood.

I’d like to correct one point mentioned: My grandfather wasn’t one of those victims. He saved his life by hiding behind a seforim shrank. My father’s life was spared because the Nazis yemach shemam ordered him to carry the corpses down to the street. Later, when his father came out of hiding, my father and grandfather ran to a section of the ghetto where Yidden were still permitted to reside.

The next day my grandfather asked my father to go back to their apartment to get him a jacket. By the time my father got back, the supposedly “safe” area of the ghetto had been liquidated, and my grandfather taken to Treblinka.

My father’s world, already shattered, collapsed, but he went on to survive four concentration camps, including Auschwitz. He summoned every reserve to rebuild, despite his trauma, despite the fact he’d lost everything from his past, which he often referred to as, “an andere velt — a different world.”

Thank you, Reb Safier, and thank you, Mishpacha, for the priceless gift you gave me, allowing me to step into that “andere velt” and understand the world of Radomsk in the yesteryear.

Hindy (Erlich) Kviat

PS Our family would love to know who is the source for the Rebbe saying that he prefers to be shot, which would enable him to have a Yiddishe kevurah, rather than be taken away to the gas chambers. We never heard this part from my father.

(Originally featured in Mishpacha, Issue 1037)