Malky staggered back to her car and sat paralyzed in the school’s parking lot for half an hour. “I kept running through the chain of events. Wasn’t I trying so hard to help Chaya? Didn’t I try numerous times to get the morah involved? And how could she speak like that about my daughter when she already felt like the class pariah — in front of other children no less? My head was spinning. Eventually, I realized that I couldn’t leave my daughter in the care of a woman who wasn’t going to create a safe, nurturing environment for her to grow in.”

Malky walked back into the classroom and drove Chaya home. “I told my husband what I did, and he fully supported me. He couldn’t believe how the teacher had acted,” Malky says. “It was almost Chanukah, so Chaya stayed home for a week and a half until I found a different school for her that was much farther away and more expensive.”

Malky’s decision came with a wave of guilt and isolation. “I come from a family of mechanchim. My father has been an eighth grade Rebbe for thirty years and my mother is a respected mechaneches. I was practically embarrassed to be so negative about a morah. When people asked me why I switched her, there was nothing I could say. I almost felt like it was taboo to express anything but hakaras hatov to a teacher.”

Any doubt or hesitations that Malky had about her decision disappeared when she saw the transformation that took place at Chaya’s new school. “Within two weeks, she was back to herself — happy, learning, and thriving. It’s been a couple of years since then, and while I still believe I did the right thing, I wish there would’ve been a way for me to resolve the issue with the morah instead of just leaving.”

Our community puts a special emphasis on appreciating our mechanchim — and rightfully so, as the majority of them are dedicated, talented individuals who pour their hearts and souls into molding the next dor. But what about when the teachers aren’t so good? When they aren’t easy to communicate with or don’t seem willing to work with you?

The average frum family will probably have a minimum of 80 mechanchim in their lives, and while it may not align with the narrative that we’re comfortable with, there are bound to be a few that aren’t a good fit for your child (and in some cases, maybe not even fit for teaching). So what is a parent to do then?

Three Responses

When I initially began researching for this article, my goal was to find a few stories of parents who successfully navigated a situation where they were unhappy with a teacher. After interviewing more than 30 parents of varying demographics — in-towners, out-of-towners, in America, in Israel, yeshivish, modox, with young children, those who married children off already — I didn’t hear a single story of a parent who successfully and peacefully resolved the issue with a problematic teacher. While those scenarios certainly exist, the fact that they were so hard to find was telling.

So what did these parents do when they couldn’t get anywhere with a teacher? As the stories poured in, it quickly became clear that the parent responses could be broken down into three main categories:

1. Switching: I pulled my kid out and switched them to a different class or school.
2. Coping: The situation wasn’t so terrible, and at the end of the day, you (both you and your child) aren’t going to love every single teacher and you just have to learn to cope.
3. Scaring: I went on the offense with warnings and threats — to the teacher, the hanhalah, or both. As unappealing as this tactic is, I felt it was the only way I could help my child.

At first, I was flooded with stories of parents who, like Malky, pulled their kids out. This seemed to be an option that parents of young children favored, both because their children were too little to advocate for themselves and because switching schools in early elementary school isn’t as challenging as switching in older grades, when social groups are firmly established.

But in severe cases, even parents of older children chose to switch out. Talia, for example, is a mother of eight who has had a range of great and not-so-great teachers over the years, but she found a way to work through most of the issues. “In general, I don’t want to be a helicopter parent, so I always try and give my kids coping tools first,” she says. “Of course, if that doesn’t work, I try speaking to the teacher. And if that doesn’t work, I go to the hanhalah.”

This “coping” strategy worked for Talia until one of her sons entered mesivta. “When the issue first arose, I worked with my son to build his coping skills. Then I went to the rebbi, but that didn’t help. Then I went to the hanhalah, but that didn’t help either. There was no one to talk to there. Because the situation in the classroom was seriously affecting my son, my husband and I consulted with our rav and switched him to a different mesivta. It was a bit awkward because I still had another son there, but he was the type who wasn’t so bothered by these things and was happy with his social circle and learning well.”

Shayna, a mother of five, never thought she’d be the type to use a scare tactic approach. But when an issue arose at her son’s new school, it brought out every “mama bear” instinct in her. “I was in a PTA meeting with my son and the teacher went on and on about what a terrible kid he was until my son started crying.”

Shocked and enraged, Shayna asked her son to excuse himself from the room. “Then I went off. I just screamed at her. If he was acting so terribly, she could have called me so we could work through the issues together. I explained that we had just made aliyah last year and he was having a hard time adjusting. And instead of helping him, she was insulting him to the point of tears!

“Everyone likes to remind us that teachers are human and they make mistakes,” Shayna adds. “Well, I’m human, too. I probably shouldn’t have lost my cool (my husband was mortified) but when we walked out, I saw it meant something to my son that I stood up for him like I did. I also went straight to the principal’s office and told him what happened. After that, the teacher was too scared of me and she left my son alone. Not ideal, but it worked.”

The Principal’s Perspective

If there’s anyone who is familiar with teacher-student mismatches, it’s principals and menahalim, who are often on the receiving end of calls from frustrated or irate parents.

Chaya Gibber, a teacher-turned-principal in Far Rockaway, sees resolving a mismatch as the teacher’s responsibility. “As a teacher, you have to work on your middos. This is an opportunity to expand your savlanus — in this case, not just patience, but forbearance. There are students who are going to be a poor match. Maybe they’re irritating; maybe they’re chutzpahdig; maybe they just rub you the wrong way. But it’s up to you to learn to handle and embrace even those children.”

She still dwells on a student, over two decades ago, whom she’d found difficult. The girl had a rough home situation and didn’t have an easy time in school, and she was incredibly awkward. “She would tell me the longest stories, going into details and tangents, and I found it so draining and difficult to be around her.” At the end of the year, the student came to her to tell her that she was her favorite teacher. “The guilt in that moment killed me, because the effort I’d put in was minimal. Had I put in more effort, I could have made a real difference for her.”

Mrs. Shevy Sklar, menaheles of Bais Yaakov Hagivah in Yerushalayim, comes from three generations of mechanchim and worked as a morah and as a chinuch consultant for 20 years before assuming her current position. She’s seen a lot over the years, and when issues arise, she always tells parents, “You can work it out. You can!”

The wisest approach to parent-teacher issues is to prevent them before they start, says Mrs. Miriam Feldman, a veteran mechaneches and the founding principal of Temima High School for Girls in Atlanta, Georgia. “Most parents don’t really understand how hard a teacher works and that it’s rare to have a teacher who doesn’t want to help. But if you start off in attack mode, they might start off in defense mode,” she points out. “So begin on the right foot by speaking to the teacher with gratitude and respect.”

No matter what you’ve heard about the teacher, the first line of defense is to establish a positive relationship on day one, echoes Mrs. Sklar. She recommends calling the teacher at the beginning of the year and introducing yourself. “Let the teacher know that you see yourself as a partner, so if any issues or concerns arise, you’re here to tackle them together,” she says.

She also recommends giving a small token of appreciation toward the beginning of the year as it can set a warm and friendly tone. Think a small jar of honey with some chocolate for Rosh Hashanah, or a handwritten thank-you note. “It’s not about bribery — it’s about acknowledging the teacher’s efforts on your child’s behalf,” says Mrs. Sklar.

“Encourage your child to build a relationship with the teacher,” she adds. “Not every teacher naturally connects with each student and although it’s their job to try, at the end of the day, your child’s success in school is your responsibility and your hishtadlus. Encourage them to schmooze with the teacher about their life outside of the classroom and to inquire about the teacher’s life as well. If it’s a young child, then build that kesher yourself. Make a point to schmooze a bit when doing drop-off or pickup. When you write a mitzvah note for your child, take the opportunity to thank the teacher as well.”

Establishing a warm, friendly connection will help tremendously when issues inevitably arise. At that point, “A parent must know three things: what is a red line, who to approach first to resolve the issue, and pointers on how to do so successfully,” Mrs. Sklar says.

She remembers being approached once by parents whose son was being verbally abused by a rebbi. After hearing the full story of the rebbi’s horrifying behavior, Mrs. Sklar’s response was swift and firm: “Pull him out immediately.”

Abuse of any kind is a red line, stresses Mrs. Feldman. “As the parent, you are your child’s best advocate. You can’t allow them to be hurt.” When a line has been crossed, if there’s no one to immediately address the issue with at the school, parents shouldn’t take a “wait and see” approach, but should switch schools right away.

“It’s critical that parents send a message to their child that abuse is so unacceptable and so irredeemable that a new school setting is necessary, even if a new school will be an adjustment,” Mrs. Sklar says. That’s the approach she took with the parents who consulted with her. “I told them to switch their son that very moment. Not in a month. Not in a week. ‘Tomorrow he isn’t there,’ I told them. “You can pay for it now with the school, or you can pay for it later with your son’s wife’s psychologist.”

Mrs. Weiss*, a Bais Yaakov principal in an out-of-town community on the East Coast, is just as firm about handling abusive situations — whether in her own school or with her children. “One year, a rebbi was being verbally abusive to my son and I was shocked when the hanhalah was trying to just wash things over. Instead of acting as a bridge, they were busy telling me it will be all right. As a principal, I know when mechanchim are trying. They weren’t trying at all. I pulled my son out the next day and homeschooled until I found a new yeshivah.”

Though it was uncomfortable and isolating for Mrs. Weiss to pull her son out of the local yeshivah, she doesn’t regret it for a second. “Overall, I don’t think the new yeshivah my son attends is necessarily better. But I would do it again in a heartbeat because my children need to know I will never tolerate any form of abuse toward them and neither should they.”

Teamwork

What about when there’s zero abuse, but you don’t think the teacher is qualified to be in his or her position? Mrs. Feldman is quick to clarify that while abuse is never acceptable, “hurt and mechunuch” is not the same thing. It’s important to see the difference because sometimes being mechunuch is not pleasant.”

One New York principal remembers a rebbi that her older son had clashed with. “He was an experienced, longtime rebbi, and it was a disaster.” He was close to retirement age at the time, and she thought that he had no business still teaching. There were constant power struggles, and her son didn’t learn that year. He felt as though he was a bad kid, and it was a horrible year.

“A couple of years later, my next son had him, and he flourished. I was in shock. I had thought, ‘This is a terrible teacher.’ But it was really just a mismatch. My next son thrived academically and emotionally with a teacher who was very structured, with very clear expectations, and he adored the rebbi.” It was a lesson to her as an educator. “If a teacher is competent and cares for his students, then it isn’t that he’s doing a bad job. Sometimes, it’s just not a good fit.”

Still, if you have concerns, step one is to ask the teacher for advice on how to address the issue at hand. “This may be difficult for some parents who already don’t see eye to eye with the teacher,” Mrs. Sklar acknowledges. “But it’s in the child’s best interest for you to work as a team. The teacher will likely try his or her approach first. But if that doesn’t work, they will likely try your approach, too, because they feel respected by you and aren’t on the defensive.”

Mrs. Sklar once coached a mother who was having issues with her daughter, a bright kid who was coming home with poor grades. The daughter complained that the teacher was boring so the kids just spaced out in class. “The mother’s first instinct was to call the teacher and say, ‘Can you make it more interesting for the kids?’ but instead, I recommended that she ask the teacher for advice on how to get her daughter to pay attention more. I believe that because the teacher felt respected, she made a concerted effort to make the whole class more interesting and specifically more interesting for the girl. She also called her up to the board more, making the class more interactive. I don’t believe this would have happened had the mother not asked for the morah’s advice.”

If parents choose their language carefully, they’re more likely to get the cooperation they’re seeking. Mrs. Weiss encourages parents to use phrases like, “Do you have any ideas on how we can partner in this to help my child?” Or “I know we’re all struggling with Sara’s behavior. I really want to work on this together. What do you think would help?”

Another pointer: “If you want the teacher to care about what you care about, then care about what they care about,” says Mrs. Weiss. She remembers when a parent complained to her that her daughter was suffering from social anxiety and all the teacher could talk about was how messy her notebook and schoolbag were. “I understood where the parents were coming from, but I suggested they start a new page with the teacher and address the messy notebook as well. I then brought in the school psychologist, who explained that the two were very much related. At that point, there was already an atmosphere of cooperation and the year ended with good feelings between them and a little girl who was improving in all areas.”

Sometimes, the first step of respectful teacher-parent collaboration resolves the issue. When it doesn’t, Mrs. Sklar recommends going to the hanhalah in a way that will preserve the teacher’s dignity. “You could mention to the teacher that because your child is still struggling, you might ask the principal for his or her input. Alternatively, speak to the hanhalah when the teacher isn’t around and be discreet.”

Both Mrs. Feldman and Mrs. Sklar are proponents of bringing in a third party who is already working with the child, whether a speech therapist, a school psychologist, or a kriah specialist. Alternatively, parents can also seek out a third party, but it should be done in cooperation with the school.

It might feel uncomfortable to push for this, but “bite the bullet and do it,” says Mrs. Feldman. “It’s in your child’s best interest to keep the relationship with the teacher as good as possible, so you can make this request about yourself. You can try telling them that because you care so much about your child, you get emotional, so it would be good to have a third party there.” These third parties can offer a more well-rounded view of what is going on and can offer professional guidance that a teacher might be more receptive to.

If, even after all these efforts, parents still feel there’s “no one to talk to,” the next step is to carefully analyze the situation. Mrs. Sklar feels that if a child is managing emotionally, and no red lines are being crossed, the best course of action is to give the child coping skills. “Find the good in the teacher and encourage your child to do the same. You can help them view their teacher in a way that leaves them emotionally protected.”

Rabbi S.* is a menahel in a “top yeshivah” in the Tristate area. A father of 11, he said that at least four of his children had teachers who he and his wife felt shouldn’t be in the classroom. “They weren’t a danger and they weren’t doing damage, but they were hard to talk to and I could see why my children didn’t like being in their class.”

He shares an example. “One year, my second oldest had a morah who she felt was overly critical. My wife and I tried to reframe it for her, saying that the morah was just trying to help. It didn’t work. We tried sending notes of appreciation to the teacher, and encouraged our daughter to thank her teacher for something whenever she could. Nada. With the advice of daas Torah, I told my daughter that’s sometimes we need to wear an emotional raincoat around overly critical people. While she always needs to show respect toward her teacher, she doesn’t need to take her criticism so seriously. I was scared to tell my daughter that. It’s scary to tell a child that a teacher isn’t always right or even nice. But it’s also emes. Once she had emotional permission to feel that way, she was fine.”

Every child is different, however, so each situation needs to be assessed individually. “It could be that a teacher doesn’t like a student and the student feels it. That can be very distressing for a child and we have to take it seriously. We don’t want to brush off their concerns. In this case, switching might be the best option. You have to ask a sh’eilas chacham,” Mrs. Feldman says.

“Sometimes, as parents we let our kids go through things and don’t do what we need to do because we don’t want to be viewed as a certain way,” she adds. She points to a common internal conflict: “We want (and should want) to be the type of people who express gratitude to our teachers and treat them with respect, and at the same time, we want to be the best advocates for our children. But the emes is, we can be both. We can really listen to our children and address their concerns… and also treat even difficult teachers with respect.”

Talia is a big proponent of seeing the good in teachers, but believes it can only go so far. “I don’t believe in the shitah of defending the teacher and the school no matter what. I think it’s better for kids to know that, yes, sometimes people in positions of authority are wrong and the way they are treating you is wrong. My kid shouldn’t be embarrassed of that. It’s a fact of life.”

When Rabbi S.’s talmidim approach him about issues in the classroom, he encourages the boys to work things out by themselves. “We don’t officially teach it, but dealing with difficult people or difficult circumstances is a life skill,” he says. “Maybe if we had taught it in all our schools, parents today would have the skills to successfully navigate these tricky situations to begin with.”

Like Mrs. Sklar, Rabbi S. believes that, aside from abuse, most teacher issues are resolvable. “Best-case scenario is when the student, teacher, and parents learn the skill of navigating difficult circumstances together and become better for it.”

(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 932)