Gail Silver, who attended Rika Breuer Teachers Seminary the first year it opened, in 1965, relates: “Rabbi Joseph Elias came to talk to us [in Bais Yaakov of Baltimore], and I was enchanted. He was the most amazing educator.”

Breuer’s had ten girls that first year, six from Baltimore and four from New York. It was a two-year program, complete with a dormitory. “Rabbi Elias allowed us to attend college at night and guided us through all the pitfalls. He felt it was important for our children to have frum secular teachers, in addition to frum kodesh teachers. ‘Imagine teaching about the nitrogen cycle from the perspective of olam chesed yibaneh, or the power of a math class viewed as a wonder of Hashem’s creation,’ he would say.”

Rabbi Elias taught Jewish history, imparting many significant hashkafah lessons as well. “The joy that Rabbi Elias had in teaching was contagious. His eyes would sparkle — it made us want to be able to teach that way, too.”

In addition, the girls were zocheh to hear Rav Shimon Schwab, ztz”l, who gave a tefillah shiur every other Shabbos in his home.

Gail’s husband, Rabbi Yehuda Silver, was learning in Yeshivas Chaim Berlin when they got married, and he eventually went into kiruv, helping to found Aish HaTorah’s Discovery program in Israel and spreading it to America and England. “Rabbi Elias’s lessons aided me through all the years of kiruv,” she says. “I met a lot of people who were very secular, and I was able to negotiate these relationships better because of the strong foundation in hashkafah that I got from seminary.

“When we graduated, Rabbi Elias told us, ‘Girls, we’ve been teaching you about black and white. Now you’re going to go out into the world and see a lot of gray, and that’s how it’s going to be until Mashiach comes. You need to find the truth even in the gray.’”

Thirty Years: Off to Eretz Yisrael

Dena Baum,* who attended BJJ (officially known as Bais Yaakov Yerushalyim) in 1980, explains, “I wanted to go to Eretz Yisrael for seminary, and there weren’t many choices in those days. My principal advised me to apply to BJJ, and, baruch Hashem, I had a wonderful year.

“Since I was raised in a more modern community, I gained tremendously from being in Eretz Yisrael. The atmosphere of kedushah was a very big chizuk for me. I met extraordinarily special people, such as Rebbetzin Esther Segal, who ran an organization that supported poor families. Her house was always open. Poor people were constantly coming and going. You could walk in and she’d give you a drashah in emunah and bitachon on the spot.

“I still remember a couple of lines from each teacher,” Dena continues. “Rav Ganz, for example, was our halachah teacher. In teaching us the halachah that it is preferable to make a brachah over a whole food as opposed to a large food, he made a statement that still echoes in my head to this day: ‘It’s more important to be whole than to be large.’ Rav Nadav, our tefillah teacher, used to close his eyes before each lesson and say a tefillah. But more important than the lessons they taught were what they each represented. This inspiration stays with me even years later.”

The extraordinary atmosphere of Eretz Yisrael, which the American girls tapped into in no small measure, made a deep impression on Dena as well. “Davening in Ponevezh Yeshivah was an amazingly powerful experience,” she says. “I could literally feel the kedushah. There was such a purity, such a sincerity in the mispallelim. I remember thinking to myself, ‘These people have no walls around them. Their tefillos are zooming straight up to Shamayim, and I’m going to sneak in there with them.’

“The family I did chesed for was American, a kollel family who was so poor they didn’t own a telephone. If I wanted to tell them I’d be late or I’d be missing a week, I had to leave a message at a neighbor’s house. It was such an eye-opener for me to see how they were moser nefesh for Torah.

“I had an Israeli roommate [as was BJJ’s practice in those days]. She had literally three outfits to her name. I was so embarrassed at how much I’d brought that I didn’t even unpack my suitcase completely! Spending that year in Eretz Yisrael helped strip away some of the materialism I’d grown up with.”

Today, Dena’s husband is an administrator in a kollel and their lives revolve around giving to their community. There is no doubt in her mind that the influence of that year in seminary remains strong.

Tzippy Epstein,* a dedicated mechaneches from the East Coast who also attended BJJ in the early 1980s, relates, “I may not remember every detail, every limud, from my seminary year, but a sense of purpose, of mission, of who I am and what I represent, stays with me. The teachers were my role models, and the messages they taught stand me in good stead even many years later.”

Tzippy agrees that BJJ has a strong academic program that demands a focused mind and a readiness to work hard. But with all that, she says, “The primary lesson for life that you carry with you is the sense of having been created b’tzelem Elokim. This mind-set molds your life and dictates how you live and conduct yourself. I could give endless examples, but they all boil down to having an awareness of chashivus haadam.

“Though I was raised in a Torahdig and chinuch-oriented home, I gained a strong sense of values and priorities that year. I also find that the relationships I formed with my seminary teachers were lifelong ones. They had a tremendous amount of life experience. I can call them and ask them about shidduchim, chinuch issues, challenges at work, and they understand it all. Their insights today are as relevant and meaningful to me as they were back then.”

Twenty Years: New Perspectives on Life

Gitty Berman* clearly recalls the first speech she heard from Rav Mordechai Miller, ztz”l, upon her arrival in Gateshead nearly twenty years ago. “High school is like the corner grocery store,” Rav Miller told the class of 150 girls. “The owner will help you fill your cart with everything you need. Seminary is a supermarket — whatever you take away is completely up to you. There’s an enormous amount available here, but nobody’s going to force anything in. It’s up to you to take it.”

Being extremely self-motivated, Gitty spent hours and hours in the library after classes, and she feels that she grabbed with both hands the opportunity she’d been given. “I don’t remember many of the divrei Torah I learned anymore, but I remember learning about the primacy of Torah — how Torah is the purpose of our lives, molding us, forming us, making us great. I gained not only from the profound divrei Torah, but also from the way in which they were given over.”

Gitty’s husband has been learning in kollel for the past fourteen years, and she says that the appreciation for Torah she learned is what pulls her through when the going gets tough. The honor and reverence with which the Gateshead seminary teachers taught Torah remains with her to this day.

“Each teacher was great in his own way,” she says. “Even if I didn’t relate to the teaching style of each one, I gained just from being in their presence.”

Gateshead’s Old Sem, as it’s colloquially called since a new seminary opened in the city, puts great emphasis on learning halachah.

“We had five halachah classes a week for three years straight. Rav Dov Sternbuch used to say, ‘If you get a 90 in any other class, that’s great, but in halachah a 90 is failing. You need to know it 100 percent!’”

Gitty relates that the principal, Rabbi Simcha Cohen, often quoted the Chofetz Chaim as saying that anyone who doesn’t review hilchos Shabbos at least once every seven years will inevitably be mechallel Shabbos. “I knew hilchos Shabbos cold when I left seminary. After I was married with children, I felt myself slipping. I remember changing my baby one Shabbos, looking at her diaper rash cream, and trying to remember exactly how I was supposed to apply it on Shabbos. I couldn’t understand how I had forgotten this basic halachah. Then it struck me: I was out of seminary exactly seven years. No wonder I was forgetting. Then and there, I decided to start a seder in hilchos Shabbos, which I keep to this day.”

Rebbetzin Aviva Feiner, Family First columnist and head of Machon Basya Rochel, a seminary in the Five Towns/Far Rockaway area, attended Bnos Chava Seminary in 1992. “Seminary was where I gained an understanding of myself as an individual, where I learned to think for myself,” Aviva says. “Being on my own for a year was a great experience for me.”

Aviva and her husband lived in Baltimore for three years after their marriage and then moved to Eretz Yisrael, where they lived for ten years. “I was pretty quiet in seminary. When I moved to Eretz Yisrael, I thought none of my teachers would remember me, but they did. When my son was born with multiple health issues, my teachers were all there for me.”

Aviva admits that until she went to seminary, she was convinced that anyone who learned in kollel was a bench warmer. “Bnos Chava gave me an appreciation for a life of Torah and a desire to have it for myself. I also learned what tzniyus was all about. The lessons I teach on tzniyus today stem directly from what I heard in seminary. I was taught shalsheles hamesorah, and tackled seforim that I’d never dreamed of understanding before.

“Seminary affected who I married, which affected everything,” she says. “Many girls take this year for granted, but I knew it was a gift.”

Ten Years: Growing Day by Day

Raised in a small, out-of-town community where her parents were mechanchim, Haddas Frankel* went off to Michlalah in 2000. “I always knew I wanted to go to Eretz Yisrael and spend a year in seminary,” she explains, “but I didn’t want a strictly Bais Yaakov environment because that wasn’t where I was coming from. I wanted to see what a yeshivish life was without being overwhelmed by it.”

Haddas had a strong desire to learn in depth, even though she knew it would be a challenge for her. “I spent a lot of time thinking about what I wanted from my life,” she says. “I challenged everything I heard, playing devil’s advocate on every issue. Fortunately, my teachers had the patience for me! They were amazing. In the end, the year gave me a strong connection to Torah, opening my eyes to what Torah really is.”

Today, living in Eretz Yisrael and happily married to a husband who’s been learning in kollel since their marriage eight years ago, Haddas says, “I didn’t take anything at face value. I went to lots of different families and asked hundreds of questions. I’m happy with where I am today, because I know that this is the best thing for me.

“In high school, I wanted to be frum and good, but I’d never experienced a personal relationship with Hashem. In seminary, I had time to focus on tefillah. Even though I don’t have as much time to daven now [as a mother of four small children] as I did then, I can tap in much more easily because I’ve already developed that connection.

“I can’t pinpoint this class or that class, but all the yesodos that I learned in seminary are a part of the way I think today. It was a life-changing year, and I pushed myself a lot. I wouldn’t be who I am today without it.”

Brachie Shapiro,* who was raised in New York and attended BYA (Machon Bnos Yehuda) in Eretz Yisrael in 1998, relates, “I’m not sure what I thought I’d gain from seminary, but I can honestly say that I’m a different person today because of that year. Seminary took everything I knew about Yiddishkeit to a whole new dimension. I’d never learned so much, in such depth, in my entire life.

“I remember learning before Rosh HaShanah an explanation for the phrase ‘kivnei Maron’ [from Rosh HaShanah davening] — how Hashem looks at each member of Klal Yisrael individually, like a shepherd counting his sheep. I stood there in shul that Rosh HaShanah feeling Hashem examining my deeds for the first time in my life. I suddenly became aware that my life has a purpose, that I am an eved Hashem. It was the first time I’d ever thought that way.

“In high school we learned subjects, whereas in seminary we learned topics. We learned about tefillah, about a woman’s role in supporting her husband’s learning. I learned so many mefarshim in depth that year — of course, I’d learned mefarshim before, but never to that extent.

“I came back from seminary a changed person, and the tools I acquired from that year helped me deal with subsequent challenges I’ve had to face. Before seminary, I just floated through life. It never came home to me that challenges were something to think about and grow from. Afterward, I realized that every challenge had been handpicked for me.

“I still have my seminary notes sitting at the top of my closet, and I look at them nostalgically from time to time. But I know that everything written there is already sitting inside of me. I don’t need to open those notebooks to remember what I’ve learned. I may not be up-to-the-minute on all the mefarshim, but I’m definitely clear on who I am in This World and why I was put here.”

Lessons for Life

Mechanchos, mothers, grandmothers, wives — all of the women interviewed waxed enthusiastic about their seminary years, but most agreed that they remembered little in the way of actual classes they’d learned. Yet, the lessons for life that they gained have stayed with them, even many years later.

That cocoon of Torah and yiras Shamayim, of hashkafos and enhanced tefillah, may not last forever. But the memories of those life-changing lessons, the experiences we’ve had in an alternative environment, can propel us forward decades later, guiding our life’s decisions and keeping us on the Torah path — no matter who we are and what we’re doing.

* Name has been changed.

(Originally Featured in XXX, Issue XXX)