For the last decade or so, I have been strongly against the use of 'textbooks' in Religious School classes. All the evidence points to the fact that children gain almost nothing - intellectually, emotionally, spiritually, or otherwise - from reading through textbooks and doing textbook-based work during Religious School. Kids often forget whatever content they may have once learned, they frequently find textbook work dull, and they simply don't engage in the learning in the same way that they do in more active / experiential programs.
At Temple Isaiah, we have a history of innovative approaches to Jewish education, including creating our own curricula. Several of our teachers have written their own curricula in such a way that does not require the use of textbooks almost at all. When we do use textbooks, we typically have a 'class set' that lives at Temple Isaiah and the students use while they are on our campus. For example, our 3rd and 4th graders study Torah as part of their programs (whether through art, storytelling, or nature), and they sometimes use kid-friendly Torah textbooks to read the stories (instead of reading the text from a JPS Torah translation or other version geared toward adults). However, since we don't use the other activities in the textbooks (just the stories), we have not typically purchased a textbook for each child to own and eventually take home.
In the last few months, something has changed in my thinking about textbooks and Religious School. A parent mentioned to me that she had wanted to practice Hebrew with her daughter over the summer, so she took out a Hebrew workbook her daughter received from Religious School several years ago and it really came in handy. Another parent mentioned to me that he wished he had had a book at home to work on with his child (again, it was related to Hebrew learning). As these parents spoke, I was reminded that in my own Religious School experience, we were given at least one or two textbooks per school year (on Torah, prayer, history, etc). We used the books at Religious School through the year, and then took them home at the end of the year. I really didn't like Religious School and wouldn't advocate going back to that type of learning; that being said, those books did sit on my bookshelf at home and from time to time throughout my childhood and adolescence I would go back to them (or my parents would). If I had a question about something related to Judaism - Torah, prayers, history, or otherwise - I could often find answers in those books (written in kid-friendly language).
So that got me thinking... even if we never return to textbook-based learning in the classroom, I wonder if we should be giving 1-2 textbooks to kids to bring home at the end of the year, to help build their Jewish bookshelves / home libraries? The PJ Library is an amazing program that seeks to build the Jewish libraries for families with kids ages 6 months to 7 years, but what happens after that? How can we help families have good Jewish resources at home for the children ages 7 and up? Even if our programs don't follow a textbook exactly, there are certainly textbooks out there that speak to the content we're teaching. So maybe we should nevertheless order books to send home at the end of the year?
Thoughts about this? Would it be a complete waste of paper and money, given the ubiquity of the internet? Something tells me it's different to have a book on your (actual) bookshelf vs. looking things up online when the need arises. I feel like I'm doing a 180 on this topic, from a Jewish educator point of view...
Friday, September 28, 2012
Monday, September 10, 2012
Reflections for the HHDs
One of the challenges of the High Holy Days is making time to do the reflection and introspection asked of us. Believe it or not, it's even difficult for me - as a rabbi no less! - to carve out the time to do the inner work that's crucial for us as humans and Jews this time of year. I recently learned of an organization called "10Q" that can help with this problem. This organization (which as far as I can tell is a start-up website of sorts) sends you an email each day of the "10 days" (i.e. the Days of Awe, from Rosh Hashanah to Yom Kippur) asking big life questions. You then write in your responses - however serious, introspective, funny, thoughtful you want to be. 10Q will store them in a 'vault' for a whole year, and will send them back to you just before the HHDs next year as a way to review where you were and what you were thinking in the past year. I'm really excited to give it a try, and I encourage all of you to do the same!
It might be an interesting exercise with kids, too, in a modified way... For example, parents could decide on 10 questions for their children to answer. Each day of the "10 days", the parents could help their children answer the questions either verbally or in writing. (If the kids answer verbally, parents can write down what their children said). Then store the answers in a safe place in your house, and pull them out next year for your children to see and hear what they said last year! Here's the website: http://doyou10q.com/
As they say on the website... 10 Days. 10 Questions. Reflect. React. Renew.
Are you ready?
It might be an interesting exercise with kids, too, in a modified way... For example, parents could decide on 10 questions for their children to answer. Each day of the "10 days", the parents could help their children answer the questions either verbally or in writing. (If the kids answer verbally, parents can write down what their children said). Then store the answers in a safe place in your house, and pull them out next year for your children to see and hear what they said last year! Here's the website: http://doyou10q.com/
As they say on the website... 10 Days. 10 Questions. Reflect. React. Renew.
Are you ready?
Friday, September 7, 2012
New School Year!
It's time for a new school year! The last few weeks have been crazy-busy getting everything ready, but I think we're good to go! I'll be updating on a regular basis now that school is back in session, so thanks for hanging with me in the summer months when I've been away from my blog.
We have some very exciting things in store for this year... I promise to keep you posted!
We have some very exciting things in store for this year... I promise to keep you posted!
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
Commanded-ness
Usually I write my own blog posts, but I recently read a d'var Torah (teaching on the Torah portion) about 'Commanded-ness' and wanted to share it on my blog as well. I couldn't have said it better myself! Without further ado-
D'VAR TORAH
Commanded-ness
Rabbi Yael Splansky
"And I commanded you, at that time, about the various the things you should do" (Deuteronomy 1:18).
The phrase "as God commanded" is repeated over and over again in the Book of Deuteronomy (D'varim Rabbah 1:1). It is a constant reminder that there is a God behind the mitzvot. As Reform Jews, we are constantly considering and reconsidering what motivates us to pursue a life of mitzvot-both ritual and ethical. What is it, really, to be commanded?
The Commanding Voice
For some, the commanding voice comes from the past . We may ask: "Who am I to turn away from 4,000 years of devoted ancestors and tradition? I'm not going to be the weak link in the chain." The commanding voice of history can be quite powerful-enough to claim us. I know an impressive woman, an accomplished physician with real ambition. After her two daughters were old enough for their family to settle into a steady pattern and life was balanced and good, she was eager to get back to her research. And yet, despite herself, she felt obligated to have another child for the sake of the Jewish people: one to replace herself, one to replace her husband, and one for the Six Million. She said it just that simply. Despite her personal preferences, she could not ignore the commanding voice of history. And now her family has a son.
For some, the commanding voice comes from the present-tense community. We may ask: What will friends and neighbors think of me if I do not live by a certain ethic? Today's emphasis on individuality teaches us that doing something for the sake of what the neighbors will say is false, hollow, backward somehow. But in the eyes of our tradition, caring about the community and one's place in it is a core value. There's a difference between doing something for the neighbor's sake and doing something for the sake of being a good neighbor. Community standards can keep us honest and upright.
For others, the commanding voice comes from the future. Our children and grandchildren make us want to do better and be better. On the opening night of our "adult bat mitzvah" class, I asked each student to share why she'd enrolled in the two-year course. Many explained that their study was motivated by their children in one way or another. They were proud to tell their sons and daughters that one night each week they couldn't help with the homework because they had to go study some Torah for themselves. They wanted to make an impression on their children by "walking the talk" and creating a path of mitzvot for them to follow.
And for some, the commanding voice is none other than the Voice of the Living God.
There is a well-known teaching about mitzvot and freedom. It is written: "Gadol hametzuveh ve'oseh mi'she'eino metzuveh ve'oseh,""Greater is the one who is commanded and does it, than one who is not commanded and still does it" (Babylonian Talmud, Kiddushin 31a). That is, "It is better to do something under command than by choice." This seems counterintuitive. We might think it is better to do something voluntarily, out of the goodness of our hearts, because we want to do the right thing rather than because Someone commanded us. But no, our Sages speak of ol hamitzvot, " the yoke of the mitzvot." Like a beast of burden, we are to feel the weight of the commandments on our shoulders, and carry them because our Master drives us to do so, because God has expectations of us.
Jews of all stripes like to talk about the "how-tos" of mitzvot. It's interesting: Are lentils kosher during Pesach? What if you're a vegetarian? What if you have one Sephardic grandparent? The how-tos of mitzvot are enough to keep us busy for a lifetime. Since Reform Judaism took root in this continent, its hallmark approach of informed choice and personal autonomy has led to another collection of interesting questions. But the foundational question, the more challenging question, and in my opinion, the most interesting question of all is: What is it that claims us so strongly that we have no choice but to say yes? What is the Origin of that commanding voice? Let's take the example of nichum aveilim, the mitzvah to comfort mourners. Making a shivah call is an awkward, inconvenient, emotionally difficult thing to do, and yet, without much thought or planning, we find ourselves walking up those front steps. We are duty-bound. More often than not there is no choice in it. There is only a call and a response. There is only the mitzvah to be fulfilled or ignored. What gets us to "yes"?
To Ethicize the Ritual and to Ritualize the Ethical
Rabbi Arnold Jacob Wolf, z"l, a leading light for our Movement, challenges us to consider the great contribution Reform Judaism can make to the Jewish world by "ethicizing the ritual mitzvot and ritualizing the ethical mitzvot." What could this mean?
When Reform Jews refrain from eating t'reif, they fulfill the ritual mitzvah of kashrut. When in the 1970s, '80s, and '90s, many Reform Jews boycotted California table grapes and called them t'reif, because the migrant field workers were being treated as slaves, they "ethicized the ritual" of keeping kosher. Or more recently, when there was a movement to boycott Israeli products and my synagogue's Israel Committee responded by arranging for only Israeli wines to be served at Temple functions, they "ethicized the ritual" of making Kiddush.
When Reform Jews turn our synagogues into homeless shelters, they fulfill the ethical mitzvot of "feeding the hungry" and "welcoming the stranger." When the volunteers recite a prayer to start their preparations, when they wear kippot as they serve the warm meal to the hungry guests, they "ritualize the ethical." When a circle of friends support a woman through her battle with cancer, they fulfill the ethical mitzvah of bikur cholim, "visiting the sick." But when she completes the regimen of chemotherapy and radiation, and her friends shower her with heartfelt prayers of hope for a healthy future and accompany her to the mikveh , which "cleanses" the poison from her body, they "ritualize the ethical."
These are examples of Reform Judaism at its best: serious Judaism-ready to take on the mitzvot and carry them with integrity, sincerity, and a good measure of imagination. No mitzvah is off-limits to us. The relevance of each mitzvah is only waiting to be discovered, as is the God who offers it.
For more on this topic see, Rabbi Arnold Jacob Wolf's "Back to the Future" in Duties of the Soul: The Role of the Commandments in Liberal Judaism, by Niles Elliot Goldstein and Peter Knobel, (New York: UAHC Press,1999).
Rabbi Yael Splansky is an associate rabbi of Holy Blossom Temple in Toronto, Canada. She is the editor of Siddur Pirchei Kodesh, the chair of the Reform Rabbis of Greater Toronto, and a fourth-generation Reform rabbi.
D'varim, Deuteronomy 1:1-3:22
D'VAR TORAH
Commanded-ness
Rabbi Yael Splansky
"And I commanded you, at that time, about the various the things you should do" (Deuteronomy 1:18).
The phrase "as God commanded" is repeated over and over again in the Book of Deuteronomy (D'varim Rabbah 1:1). It is a constant reminder that there is a God behind the mitzvot. As Reform Jews, we are constantly considering and reconsidering what motivates us to pursue a life of mitzvot-both ritual and ethical. What is it, really, to be commanded?
The Commanding Voice
For some, the commanding voice comes from the past . We may ask: "Who am I to turn away from 4,000 years of devoted ancestors and tradition? I'm not going to be the weak link in the chain." The commanding voice of history can be quite powerful-enough to claim us. I know an impressive woman, an accomplished physician with real ambition. After her two daughters were old enough for their family to settle into a steady pattern and life was balanced and good, she was eager to get back to her research. And yet, despite herself, she felt obligated to have another child for the sake of the Jewish people: one to replace herself, one to replace her husband, and one for the Six Million. She said it just that simply. Despite her personal preferences, she could not ignore the commanding voice of history. And now her family has a son.
For some, the commanding voice comes from the present-tense community. We may ask: What will friends and neighbors think of me if I do not live by a certain ethic? Today's emphasis on individuality teaches us that doing something for the sake of what the neighbors will say is false, hollow, backward somehow. But in the eyes of our tradition, caring about the community and one's place in it is a core value. There's a difference between doing something for the neighbor's sake and doing something for the sake of being a good neighbor. Community standards can keep us honest and upright.
For others, the commanding voice comes from the future. Our children and grandchildren make us want to do better and be better. On the opening night of our "adult bat mitzvah" class, I asked each student to share why she'd enrolled in the two-year course. Many explained that their study was motivated by their children in one way or another. They were proud to tell their sons and daughters that one night each week they couldn't help with the homework because they had to go study some Torah for themselves. They wanted to make an impression on their children by "walking the talk" and creating a path of mitzvot for them to follow.
And for some, the commanding voice is none other than the Voice of the Living God.
There is a well-known teaching about mitzvot and freedom. It is written: "Gadol hametzuveh ve'oseh mi'she'eino metzuveh ve'oseh,""Greater is the one who is commanded and does it, than one who is not commanded and still does it" (Babylonian Talmud, Kiddushin 31a). That is, "It is better to do something under command than by choice." This seems counterintuitive. We might think it is better to do something voluntarily, out of the goodness of our hearts, because we want to do the right thing rather than because Someone commanded us. But no, our Sages speak of ol hamitzvot, " the yoke of the mitzvot." Like a beast of burden, we are to feel the weight of the commandments on our shoulders, and carry them because our Master drives us to do so, because God has expectations of us.
Jews of all stripes like to talk about the "how-tos" of mitzvot. It's interesting: Are lentils kosher during Pesach? What if you're a vegetarian? What if you have one Sephardic grandparent? The how-tos of mitzvot are enough to keep us busy for a lifetime. Since Reform Judaism took root in this continent, its hallmark approach of informed choice and personal autonomy has led to another collection of interesting questions. But the foundational question, the more challenging question, and in my opinion, the most interesting question of all is: What is it that claims us so strongly that we have no choice but to say yes? What is the Origin of that commanding voice? Let's take the example of nichum aveilim, the mitzvah to comfort mourners. Making a shivah call is an awkward, inconvenient, emotionally difficult thing to do, and yet, without much thought or planning, we find ourselves walking up those front steps. We are duty-bound. More often than not there is no choice in it. There is only a call and a response. There is only the mitzvah to be fulfilled or ignored. What gets us to "yes"?
To Ethicize the Ritual and to Ritualize the Ethical
Rabbi Arnold Jacob Wolf, z"l, a leading light for our Movement, challenges us to consider the great contribution Reform Judaism can make to the Jewish world by "ethicizing the ritual mitzvot and ritualizing the ethical mitzvot." What could this mean?
When Reform Jews refrain from eating t'reif, they fulfill the ritual mitzvah of kashrut. When in the 1970s, '80s, and '90s, many Reform Jews boycotted California table grapes and called them t'reif, because the migrant field workers were being treated as slaves, they "ethicized the ritual" of keeping kosher. Or more recently, when there was a movement to boycott Israeli products and my synagogue's Israel Committee responded by arranging for only Israeli wines to be served at Temple functions, they "ethicized the ritual" of making Kiddush.
When Reform Jews turn our synagogues into homeless shelters, they fulfill the ethical mitzvot of "feeding the hungry" and "welcoming the stranger." When the volunteers recite a prayer to start their preparations, when they wear kippot as they serve the warm meal to the hungry guests, they "ritualize the ethical." When a circle of friends support a woman through her battle with cancer, they fulfill the ethical mitzvah of bikur cholim, "visiting the sick." But when she completes the regimen of chemotherapy and radiation, and her friends shower her with heartfelt prayers of hope for a healthy future and accompany her to the mikveh , which "cleanses" the poison from her body, they "ritualize the ethical."
These are examples of Reform Judaism at its best: serious Judaism-ready to take on the mitzvot and carry them with integrity, sincerity, and a good measure of imagination. No mitzvah is off-limits to us. The relevance of each mitzvah is only waiting to be discovered, as is the God who offers it.
For more on this topic see, Rabbi Arnold Jacob Wolf's "Back to the Future" in Duties of the Soul: The Role of the Commandments in Liberal Judaism, by Niles Elliot Goldstein and Peter Knobel, (New York: UAHC Press,1999).
Rabbi Yael Splansky is an associate rabbi of Holy Blossom Temple in Toronto, Canada. She is the editor of Siddur Pirchei Kodesh, the chair of the Reform Rabbis of Greater Toronto, and a fourth-generation Reform rabbi.
Monday, June 4, 2012
Keeping all the balls in the air
This morning I realized that amidst all the (metaphorical) balls in the air, I accidentally dropped a few. My husband and I accidentally left the baby's stroller in the car he took to work today, which meant that our au pair has no stroller to use for the day. I also meant to help my three year-old write thank you cards for his preschool teachers to give to them at today's year-end celebration, and I completely forgot about it over the weekend. Such is life with two kids - there are way too many details to keep track of everything and not drop a few balls some of the time.
Since becoming a parent more than 3 years ago, I have developed a new-found respect for and understanding of parents in our synagogue community. I used to be frustrated when parents forgot about Religious School family programs, or forgot about a change in the Religious School schedule... but now I 'get it'... not just intellectually, but viscerally, emotionally. Being a parent is hard in many ways, and one of the challenges is to keep all the various 'balls' in the air. I've come to learn that all of us 'drop the ball' sometimes!
The question for me as a Jewish educator is, "How do we help parents keep the 'Jewish education' ball in the air?" If we send extra emails, parents get annoyed that we email too much. If we don't send an extra reminder email, then it's easy to forget when special events are happening, or what's going on in the synagogue and in the Religious School. As an educator, I find it difficult to balance "too much information" vs. "not enough information." As a parent, I understand well both sides of the coin... I want the reminders, but I'm also overwhelmed with emails, calendar changes, and yes, details. Such is life in the 21st century, I suppose!
Since becoming a parent more than 3 years ago, I have developed a new-found respect for and understanding of parents in our synagogue community. I used to be frustrated when parents forgot about Religious School family programs, or forgot about a change in the Religious School schedule... but now I 'get it'... not just intellectually, but viscerally, emotionally. Being a parent is hard in many ways, and one of the challenges is to keep all the various 'balls' in the air. I've come to learn that all of us 'drop the ball' sometimes!
The question for me as a Jewish educator is, "How do we help parents keep the 'Jewish education' ball in the air?" If we send extra emails, parents get annoyed that we email too much. If we don't send an extra reminder email, then it's easy to forget when special events are happening, or what's going on in the synagogue and in the Religious School. As an educator, I find it difficult to balance "too much information" vs. "not enough information." As a parent, I understand well both sides of the coin... I want the reminders, but I'm also overwhelmed with emails, calendar changes, and yes, details. Such is life in the 21st century, I suppose!
Friday, June 1, 2012
Hoffman Blog Recommendations
Wow, it's been awhile since I've written on this blog! I was out on maternity leave for a couple of months, and now I'm finally getting back into the swing of things. As we head into the summer months, I thought I'd suggest a few terrific blogs to read / follow... by a father/son duo...
The first blog I recommend reading is called "God Didn't Say That." It's by Dr. Joel Hoffman, who is an expert in Hebrew / biblical translations. Many of his posts are fascinating, including one I read recently that's called "Sometimes the right word is the wrong word to use when translating the Bible." His post reminds me of something I learned in rabbinical school, which is that translating literally from one language to another doesn't necessarily tell you what the original text meant. For example... let's say you were living two thousand years from now (i.e. in the year 4012), speaking a completely different language, and you 'discovered' a copy of the New York Times (in English) from our current era. The headline of the paper said "Wall Street Crashed Yesterday", and you were trying to translate it from English into your current language. Using a dictionary, you looked up the words "wall", "street", "crash", and "yesterday," and you would probably assume that the article was referring to a street that had a wall on it or near it, and the wall fell down yesterday. Obviously you and I know that that has nothing to do with the real meaning of the headline... but that's because we know what the phrase "Wall Street" means, and what it means when Wall Street "crashes" - it's not at all about a street with a wall. As this little example highlights, translation can be a very tricky business, especially when we are translating texts from hundreds or even thousands of years ago!
The second blog I want to recommend is by my former professor and mentor, Rabbi/Dr Larry Hoffman (father of Joel Hoffman). Rabbi Hoffman is an expert in liturgy, worship, and ritual (among other things), and his blog is called Life and a Little Liturgy. His posts are fascinating, including his latest, "The Bible is Fiction" as well as one from a couple weeks ago called "Why we need synagogues, or what synagogues need to be."
Hope you find these blogs thought-provoking... let me know if you have any responses and/or questions for me to address here!
The first blog I recommend reading is called "God Didn't Say That." It's by Dr. Joel Hoffman, who is an expert in Hebrew / biblical translations. Many of his posts are fascinating, including one I read recently that's called "Sometimes the right word is the wrong word to use when translating the Bible." His post reminds me of something I learned in rabbinical school, which is that translating literally from one language to another doesn't necessarily tell you what the original text meant. For example... let's say you were living two thousand years from now (i.e. in the year 4012), speaking a completely different language, and you 'discovered' a copy of the New York Times (in English) from our current era. The headline of the paper said "Wall Street Crashed Yesterday", and you were trying to translate it from English into your current language. Using a dictionary, you looked up the words "wall", "street", "crash", and "yesterday," and you would probably assume that the article was referring to a street that had a wall on it or near it, and the wall fell down yesterday. Obviously you and I know that that has nothing to do with the real meaning of the headline... but that's because we know what the phrase "Wall Street" means, and what it means when Wall Street "crashes" - it's not at all about a street with a wall. As this little example highlights, translation can be a very tricky business, especially when we are translating texts from hundreds or even thousands of years ago!
The second blog I want to recommend is by my former professor and mentor, Rabbi/Dr Larry Hoffman (father of Joel Hoffman). Rabbi Hoffman is an expert in liturgy, worship, and ritual (among other things), and his blog is called Life and a Little Liturgy. His posts are fascinating, including his latest, "The Bible is Fiction" as well as one from a couple weeks ago called "Why we need synagogues, or what synagogues need to be."
Hope you find these blogs thought-provoking... let me know if you have any responses and/or questions for me to address here!
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Why Jewish Environmental Education Matters
At this point in the year - our first year with a variety of 'tracks' for 3rd-6th grade students - I don't think I have to convince many parents at Temple Isaiah of the need for innovative and track-based Religious School programs. I've been delighted by the changes we've made, and although there are always small things to work out (finding the best teachers, working with individual students' needs, etc), I think the general path we've taken is a great one.
That being said, I thought I'd pass along a really interesting article called "Why Jewish Environmental Education Matters." In our community, the "Jewish environmental education" is part of our Teva program for 3rd and 4th graders, although I could imagine a time in the future (if our enrollment is high enough) when we might be able to offer a similar program for older kids, teens, and/or adults. In the meantime, I'm very happy that we have a program like Teva at Temple Isaiah!
That being said, I thought I'd pass along a really interesting article called "Why Jewish Environmental Education Matters." In our community, the "Jewish environmental education" is part of our Teva program for 3rd and 4th graders, although I could imagine a time in the future (if our enrollment is high enough) when we might be able to offer a similar program for older kids, teens, and/or adults. In the meantime, I'm very happy that we have a program like Teva at Temple Isaiah!
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