First off I just want to mention that I love reading the blog and I’ve really enjoyed reading the posts on this topic and the one about colleges.
So I don’t know about most people but I know that I personally have never really gone through that change where I started dressing more tzniutly. Once I turned 12 I just took it upon myself to always wear skirts that cover my knee and wear shirts that came high enough and sleeves that came past my elbow. I believe that I chose to do this based on the people I was friends with in school, so I never really went through I transformation. I do strongly believe in the way I dress though. Over the years I’ve grown into the way I dress and it really has become a part of who I am and how I am defined as a person. I personally think that elbows and knees are really ugly so there isn’t any reason to want to show them, but at the same time I also think that there are some things that are only meant for your husband.
Now I don’t know if I would go as far as saying that tzniut is more important than davening (but I don’t think that it is less important either, I think it is two separate issues) because if you think about it, davening is something between you and G-d, something that no one else is a part of other than yourself. Tzniut on the other hand, is something that G-d sees as well as others. The sense of intimacy with G-d when davening is done in one’s own privacy, while the tzniut aspect is shown to the world.
As Mrs. Knoll said, “tzniut is not just about the clothing we wear, it’s not even just about the way we behave and carry ourselves.” I think that the way we behave and carry ourselves either sets a kiddush Hashem or a chilul Hashem so why would people want to represent themselves badly? Don’t you realize that EVERYONE is looking? I definitely agree with Mrs. Knoll when she said that the way we dress and carry ourselves shows a sense of dignity and self-worth. We were all made b’tzelem Elokim and the image of G-d that we walk around with shouldn't be treated inappropriately. It shows that you respect yourself and the body that Hashem gave you.
As I said earlier, the way I dress has become a part of who I am and how I am defined as a person. This is a good and bad thing. Although the way people judge me happens to be for what I really am, the basis for their judging is completely incorrect. For example, my friend’s boyfriend only knew of me and thought I was weird just because I dress “frum,” but once he got to know me through her, he realized that I’m not that weird girl that he thought I was. As we can see, unfortunately, people do judge you by the way you look and why would you want to make a bad name for yourself?
Relating back to the theme of Shabbaton, every single one of us has the CHOICE to represent ourselves in a way that we want to be seen. I wish that everyone could see this as easily as I see it, and I hope that this makes an impression on everyone.
Thanks Mrs. Knoll for posing some grand-slam topics!
Rebecca Schenker
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
פרשת וירא
At the Shabbaton, the Divrei Torah this year were particularly outstanding - Yasher Koach to Atara, Tamar, Eliana, Shira & Ms. Appel. I found it interesting though, that at Maayanot, we heard exclusively about אברהם with not much attention paid to שרה. Therefore, I'm posting an idea that was once circulated in the now defunct Maayanot Parsha Points. I hope you enjoy & please send feedback.
Let us start off with a number of questions.
· אברהם found out that he and שרה were going to have יצחק at the end of לך לך. Yet, three days later, the מלאכים came to tell him the exact same news with שרה overhearing? Why was it necessary for Hashem to tell either of them, let alone twice, of יצחק's pending arrival? Why couldn't they find out the way that everyone else does?
· If שרה's נבואה was greater than אברהם's, why was he told directly by Hashem & she through a מלאך (who wasn't even talking to her!)?
· Why did Hashem reprimand שרה for her laughter, when אברהם also laughed when he was told they would have יצחק? Rashi (based on תרגום אונקלוס) explain that the laughter of אברהם expressed joy, while שרה’s was cynical and doubtful, but why would that be? And even if it were true, אברהם heard the נבואה from Hashem. שרה heard the rantings of three Arabic nomads. Why would she be expected to take it seriously?
· שרה’s reaction is completely irrational. רש"י (יח:ח) tells us that the bread that she prepared was never served because “פירסה נדה” at the age of 89. With theנס process already in motion, why would her reaction be so skeptical? Once her body was miraculously rejuvenated, is ואדני זקן that much more of an obstacle?
We have often discussed the concept of each of the אבות and אמהות embodying a certain מידה, which means not merely a good quality that they had, but a theological approach as to the proper way to serve Hashem (see chart below). When we say that אברהם was an איש חסד, it means that he was active, externally focused in his עבודת ד'. Perhaps it also refers to a degree of spiritual optimism. We know that שרה personified גבורה (like her son יצחק). Maybe that implies the reverse. Based on the story in the Midrash, an early if not initial exposure to G-d for both אברהם and שרה was the story of the כבשן האש. אברהם stood up for Hashem and was miraculously saved, שרה watched her father הרן do the same, and be burnt alive. Maybe this helped foster within each of them differing approaches to נס. To אברהם, anything was possible. When faced with a seeming contradiction – G-d’s promise that he would be the father of a great nation and his childlessness into old age, or even the same promise against the commandment to sacrifice יצחק – he knew that his is not to reason why, and that Hashem can make it right in the end. שרה on the other hand dealt with the practical, and was emotionally reluctant to rely on ניסים. Therefore, when her child-bearing years passed with no children, she assumed that the ברכה would be fulfilled through ישמעאל, but never dreamt that she would still be destined to be the mother of this nation. The שטן (according to "רש"י) knew that once he told that יצחק was on the מזבח, he would never reach the happy ending.
This is not a value judgment. שרה’s approach was not necessarily worse than אברהם’s, in fact sometimes her spiritual pessimism was proper. When ישמעאל was not turning out as planned, אברהם could only see his potential. It was שרה and her pragmatism that correctly recognized him באשר הוא שם – as he was – and Hashem explicitly told אברהם to concede to her superior judgment.
We noted last week that a נסיון is designed to test the subject in his potential area of weakness. אברהם didn’t need to be tested in the realm of חסד; his נסיון, the עקידה, struck at his potential spiritual Achilles heel – גבורה. אברהם hearing from Hashem was the default. Of course had שרה received the news in the same way she would have reacted as אברהם did. The מלאכים came to visit שרה, and asked for her before they started speaking, but אברהם responds “הנה באהל”. רש"י explains that צנועה היא. We understand, this to refer to her feminine modesty in line with the way we contemporarily use the term. Maybe a supplemental reading can be that in line with her גבורה personality, she remained hidden from the guests, who then had to talk at her instead of to her. Perhaps שרה’s נסיון was to recognize the possibility of נס. True, she heard the news from less than reliable sources, and had no obligation to believe it. But what was expected was that she not dismiss it out of hand. “היפלא מד' דבר” ? Hashem’s rebuke explains שרה’s crime. By cynically ruling out a miraculous conclusion to her story, שרה falls short of G-d’s expectation. This is not to say that שרה was a spiritual failure or any less than the אם ישראל we know her to be. Yet, the תורה is clear that Hashem is upset with her, so our job is to figure out why. The above may be a step in that pursuit.
Let us start off with a number of questions.
· אברהם found out that he and שרה were going to have יצחק at the end of לך לך. Yet, three days later, the מלאכים came to tell him the exact same news with שרה overhearing? Why was it necessary for Hashem to tell either of them, let alone twice, of יצחק's pending arrival? Why couldn't they find out the way that everyone else does?
· If שרה's נבואה was greater than אברהם's, why was he told directly by Hashem & she through a מלאך (who wasn't even talking to her!)?
· Why did Hashem reprimand שרה for her laughter, when אברהם also laughed when he was told they would have יצחק? Rashi (based on תרגום אונקלוס) explain that the laughter of אברהם expressed joy, while שרה’s was cynical and doubtful, but why would that be? And even if it were true, אברהם heard the נבואה from Hashem. שרה heard the rantings of three Arabic nomads. Why would she be expected to take it seriously?
· שרה’s reaction is completely irrational. רש"י (יח:ח) tells us that the bread that she prepared was never served because “פירסה נדה” at the age of 89. With theנס process already in motion, why would her reaction be so skeptical? Once her body was miraculously rejuvenated, is ואדני זקן that much more of an obstacle?
We have often discussed the concept of each of the אבות and אמהות embodying a certain מידה, which means not merely a good quality that they had, but a theological approach as to the proper way to serve Hashem (see chart below). When we say that אברהם was an איש חסד, it means that he was active, externally focused in his עבודת ד'. Perhaps it also refers to a degree of spiritual optimism. We know that שרה personified גבורה (like her son יצחק). Maybe that implies the reverse. Based on the story in the Midrash, an early if not initial exposure to G-d for both אברהם and שרה was the story of the כבשן האש. אברהם stood up for Hashem and was miraculously saved, שרה watched her father הרן do the same, and be burnt alive. Maybe this helped foster within each of them differing approaches to נס. To אברהם, anything was possible. When faced with a seeming contradiction – G-d’s promise that he would be the father of a great nation and his childlessness into old age, or even the same promise against the commandment to sacrifice יצחק – he knew that his is not to reason why, and that Hashem can make it right in the end. שרה on the other hand dealt with the practical, and was emotionally reluctant to rely on ניסים. Therefore, when her child-bearing years passed with no children, she assumed that the ברכה would be fulfilled through ישמעאל, but never dreamt that she would still be destined to be the mother of this nation. The שטן (according to "רש"י) knew that once he told that יצחק was on the מזבח, he would never reach the happy ending.
This is not a value judgment. שרה’s approach was not necessarily worse than אברהם’s, in fact sometimes her spiritual pessimism was proper. When ישמעאל was not turning out as planned, אברהם could only see his potential. It was שרה and her pragmatism that correctly recognized him באשר הוא שם – as he was – and Hashem explicitly told אברהם to concede to her superior judgment.
We noted last week that a נסיון is designed to test the subject in his potential area of weakness. אברהם didn’t need to be tested in the realm of חסד; his נסיון, the עקידה, struck at his potential spiritual Achilles heel – גבורה. אברהם hearing from Hashem was the default. Of course had שרה received the news in the same way she would have reacted as אברהם did. The מלאכים came to visit שרה, and asked for her before they started speaking, but אברהם responds “הנה באהל”. רש"י explains that צנועה היא. We understand, this to refer to her feminine modesty in line with the way we contemporarily use the term. Maybe a supplemental reading can be that in line with her גבורה personality, she remained hidden from the guests, who then had to talk at her instead of to her. Perhaps שרה’s נסיון was to recognize the possibility of נס. True, she heard the news from less than reliable sources, and had no obligation to believe it. But what was expected was that she not dismiss it out of hand. “היפלא מד' דבר” ? Hashem’s rebuke explains שרה’s crime. By cynically ruling out a miraculous conclusion to her story, שרה falls short of G-d’s expectation. This is not to say that שרה was a spiritual failure or any less than the אם ישראל we know her to be. Yet, the תורה is clear that Hashem is upset with her, so our job is to figure out why. The above may be a step in that pursuit.
Monday, November 2, 2009
Thoughts on Tzeniut
I want to share with you my own evolving thoughts about tzeniut because I personally have undergone a huge change in my perspective on the topic over the last few months, and actually feel like that change is still ongoing; I am, even as I write this, still not 100% sure what I think. But I wanted to post my current thoughts, and I would love to hear feedback from you all; I’m hoping this blog post will help me clarify my own thoughts on the issue.
Up until some time last year, I was a strong advocate AGAINST making tzniut a big deal in Ma’ayanot. You can ask Mrs. Billet to verify, but the issue came up numerous times over the last number of years both at faculty meetings and parlor meetings, and I always felt, “Why is everyone making such a big deal about skirts? There are so many more important issues on which we should be focusing our attention, such as encouraging our students to daven even on non-school days, for example. Isn’t encouraging our students to devote time every single day to their personal relationship with God a more important and more meaningful expression of their commitment to Judaism than the clothes they wear?”
However, after many years of expressing the above sentiment, my thoughts have changed radically over the last few months. I am not sure what triggered my rethinking of the issue, but what I’ve begun to wonder (and am still in the middle of wondering) is the following:
Maybe tzniut really IS that important. Maybe it IS more important even than davening every day. Maybe it can even be considered on par with the most weighty of mitzvot, such as Shabbat and Kashrut. Again, I’m still not 100% sure what I believe; I’m still thinking it through myself. But a year ago, I would never have even entertained the possibility that tzniut could be considered on an equal level with something like Shabbat or Kashrut, while now I not only consider the possibility, I even lean toward saying that it may be correct. Let me explain the change in my thinking:
What I have come to realize is that tzeniut is not just about the clothing we wear, it’s not even just about the way we behave and carry ourselves. Tzeniut represents and is the first step in an entire world-view that encompasses such far-reaching and critical arenas as one’s perspective on oneself, one’s body, self-worth, sexuality, and the sanctity of marriage to name a few. As a Modern Orthodox Jew, I firmly believe in the value of the secular world and do not think that we must constantly be distancing ourselves from it. However, in these particular areas, I think that the Jewish world-view differs radically from that of the culture in which we live. I think that tzeniut is so tremendously important because it is a “kol demama daka” – a still, small voice expressing a powerful message about the sanctity of oneself, one’s body, and ultimately one’s marriage that stands in such stark contrast to the messages with which we are bombarded by the world around us.
The Jewish world-view, of which tzeniut is a critical part, believes that our bodies are sacred, and should be treated with dignity and self-respect. We should not just be flaunting our bodies to anyone and everyone who passes by. They are too precious for that. We should be protecting them, not just in the sense of safety, but in the sense of preserving them for the special someone who loves us and cares for us enough to deserve to share them. Only someone who truly appreciates us and understands us for who we are should be able to fully see and have access to the physical body that is us.
This message affects everything, from dressing and carrying ourselves in a way that reflects a sense of dignity and self-worth; to perceiving our bodies and our relationships as sacred; to saving certain singular experiences to be shared only with the one person to whom we commit ourselves and who is committed to us fully and for life; to the uniqueness, sanctity, and loyalty that hopefully exists in Jewish marriages as a result; to the strong, everlasting community that can be built on these powerful values and meaningful relationships.
No wonder so many parents and educators have placed such a heavy emphasis on tzeniut for years. I have only begun to think of the broader implications of tzeniut recently myself, but I am coming to believe that tzeniut really is way, way more than just the clothing we wear, but rather that an entire component of the Jewish world view is rooted in the concept of tzeniut – in the idea of treating our bodies with dignity and self-respect, and preserving them for the ultimate relationship.
Up until some time last year, I was a strong advocate AGAINST making tzniut a big deal in Ma’ayanot. You can ask Mrs. Billet to verify, but the issue came up numerous times over the last number of years both at faculty meetings and parlor meetings, and I always felt, “Why is everyone making such a big deal about skirts? There are so many more important issues on which we should be focusing our attention, such as encouraging our students to daven even on non-school days, for example. Isn’t encouraging our students to devote time every single day to their personal relationship with God a more important and more meaningful expression of their commitment to Judaism than the clothes they wear?”
However, after many years of expressing the above sentiment, my thoughts have changed radically over the last few months. I am not sure what triggered my rethinking of the issue, but what I’ve begun to wonder (and am still in the middle of wondering) is the following:
Maybe tzniut really IS that important. Maybe it IS more important even than davening every day. Maybe it can even be considered on par with the most weighty of mitzvot, such as Shabbat and Kashrut. Again, I’m still not 100% sure what I believe; I’m still thinking it through myself. But a year ago, I would never have even entertained the possibility that tzniut could be considered on an equal level with something like Shabbat or Kashrut, while now I not only consider the possibility, I even lean toward saying that it may be correct. Let me explain the change in my thinking:
What I have come to realize is that tzeniut is not just about the clothing we wear, it’s not even just about the way we behave and carry ourselves. Tzeniut represents and is the first step in an entire world-view that encompasses such far-reaching and critical arenas as one’s perspective on oneself, one’s body, self-worth, sexuality, and the sanctity of marriage to name a few. As a Modern Orthodox Jew, I firmly believe in the value of the secular world and do not think that we must constantly be distancing ourselves from it. However, in these particular areas, I think that the Jewish world-view differs radically from that of the culture in which we live. I think that tzeniut is so tremendously important because it is a “kol demama daka” – a still, small voice expressing a powerful message about the sanctity of oneself, one’s body, and ultimately one’s marriage that stands in such stark contrast to the messages with which we are bombarded by the world around us.
The Jewish world-view, of which tzeniut is a critical part, believes that our bodies are sacred, and should be treated with dignity and self-respect. We should not just be flaunting our bodies to anyone and everyone who passes by. They are too precious for that. We should be protecting them, not just in the sense of safety, but in the sense of preserving them for the special someone who loves us and cares for us enough to deserve to share them. Only someone who truly appreciates us and understands us for who we are should be able to fully see and have access to the physical body that is us.
This message affects everything, from dressing and carrying ourselves in a way that reflects a sense of dignity and self-worth; to perceiving our bodies and our relationships as sacred; to saving certain singular experiences to be shared only with the one person to whom we commit ourselves and who is committed to us fully and for life; to the uniqueness, sanctity, and loyalty that hopefully exists in Jewish marriages as a result; to the strong, everlasting community that can be built on these powerful values and meaningful relationships.
No wonder so many parents and educators have placed such a heavy emphasis on tzeniut for years. I have only begun to think of the broader implications of tzeniut recently myself, but I am coming to believe that tzeniut really is way, way more than just the clothing we wear, but rather that an entire component of the Jewish world view is rooted in the concept of tzeniut – in the idea of treating our bodies with dignity and self-respect, and preserving them for the ultimate relationship.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Yet Another Post on College: My Decision to Transfer from Stern to Barnard
I wanted to add one more perspective to the Stern/secular college debate, since I began my studies at Stern and then transferred to Barnard after one year. Mrs. Knoll, Mrs. Sinensky, Mrs. Appel, Jenn, and Rachel have all made excellent points, and it’s clear that everyone approaches this topic from a different vantage point.
Which is why I agree so strongly with Ms. Appel: this is a deeply personal decision. It is based on many factors, some of them tangible and some of them not. At the end of the day, this decision comes from your gut: where will you be happiest spending 3-4 years of your life? Which imperfect environment—for all colleges are imperfect—will fulfill your needs in the best way?
Mrs. Knoll mentions the need to seriously consider the incredible learning opportunities Stern offers, and what you might lose by choosing another school. I could not agree more. The learning at Stern is stellar, and was the number one reason I hesitated leaving Stern. It is also the reason I enrolled in the Stern Graduate Talmud Program after graduating from Barnard. Throughout my three years in Barnard, I was fully aware of what I had given up: making the time for regular chavrutas was a huge challenge (consider how difficult it is to learn for two hours when you have two midterms the next day!), and though I devoted a lot of time and effort to learning, learning on your own is just not the same as having a formal shiur that truly holds you responsible for the material.
That said, I have to agree with Rachel that the passion of the committed Jewish students on campus is truly inspiring. People learned at all hours of the day, juggling heavy workloads with regular chavrutas and shiurim, not to mention other important educational and social Hillel programs and other commitments. Learning was a major priority of my secular college Orthodox community; though I sacrificed the rigor of a truly formal shiur by leaving Stern, never once did I feel I sacrificed a religiously motivated group of friends. (And it always seemed to me that Ma’ayanot graduates were the best prepared for continuing their learning on their own!)
However, all of this comes with one major caveat: I went to a school with a large Orthodox community. Finding religious passion and widespread commitment to learning and growth is certainly not this easy on every campus; in fact, on most campuses, it is much harder. I benefited tremendously from motivating myself, and from interacting with people different from myself, both Jewish and non-Jewish, but I always had a strong group of Orthodox friends. I agree with Ms. Appel that there is little value in challenge for challenge's sake. When making a decision about college, realize how much of a difference having like-minded friends will make. Three to four years is a long time to do something if you don’t have a lot of support.
One other point: Mrs. Knoll mentioned the issue of prioritizing either your secular or Judaic Studies education in deciding where to go to college. When I was making my decision, I really struggled with this issue: did going to secular college mean I didn’t value learning as much as I valued my secular education? In the end, I decided that even though learning was one of the most important things to me, I could return to formal learning after college. The benefits I wanted from a secular college—the world-class secular education, the exposure to truly diverse people and ideas, the active Jewish community—were things I could never get in the same way after college, and were too important to me to give up. I postponed the formal learning I wanted for other experiences I wanted, and though I know not everyone can spend two years learning after college, everyone can find her own balance.
I cherish the experiences I had at secular college; they shaped the way I see the world, and I absolutely made the right decision(s) for me. But again, this decision is deeply personal. Only you know what will inspire you and what environment feels right for you. So think carefully, and remember: no decision is ever final!
Which is why I agree so strongly with Ms. Appel: this is a deeply personal decision. It is based on many factors, some of them tangible and some of them not. At the end of the day, this decision comes from your gut: where will you be happiest spending 3-4 years of your life? Which imperfect environment—for all colleges are imperfect—will fulfill your needs in the best way?
Mrs. Knoll mentions the need to seriously consider the incredible learning opportunities Stern offers, and what you might lose by choosing another school. I could not agree more. The learning at Stern is stellar, and was the number one reason I hesitated leaving Stern. It is also the reason I enrolled in the Stern Graduate Talmud Program after graduating from Barnard. Throughout my three years in Barnard, I was fully aware of what I had given up: making the time for regular chavrutas was a huge challenge (consider how difficult it is to learn for two hours when you have two midterms the next day!), and though I devoted a lot of time and effort to learning, learning on your own is just not the same as having a formal shiur that truly holds you responsible for the material.
That said, I have to agree with Rachel that the passion of the committed Jewish students on campus is truly inspiring. People learned at all hours of the day, juggling heavy workloads with regular chavrutas and shiurim, not to mention other important educational and social Hillel programs and other commitments. Learning was a major priority of my secular college Orthodox community; though I sacrificed the rigor of a truly formal shiur by leaving Stern, never once did I feel I sacrificed a religiously motivated group of friends. (And it always seemed to me that Ma’ayanot graduates were the best prepared for continuing their learning on their own!)
However, all of this comes with one major caveat: I went to a school with a large Orthodox community. Finding religious passion and widespread commitment to learning and growth is certainly not this easy on every campus; in fact, on most campuses, it is much harder. I benefited tremendously from motivating myself, and from interacting with people different from myself, both Jewish and non-Jewish, but I always had a strong group of Orthodox friends. I agree with Ms. Appel that there is little value in challenge for challenge's sake. When making a decision about college, realize how much of a difference having like-minded friends will make. Three to four years is a long time to do something if you don’t have a lot of support.
One other point: Mrs. Knoll mentioned the issue of prioritizing either your secular or Judaic Studies education in deciding where to go to college. When I was making my decision, I really struggled with this issue: did going to secular college mean I didn’t value learning as much as I valued my secular education? In the end, I decided that even though learning was one of the most important things to me, I could return to formal learning after college. The benefits I wanted from a secular college—the world-class secular education, the exposure to truly diverse people and ideas, the active Jewish community—were things I could never get in the same way after college, and were too important to me to give up. I postponed the formal learning I wanted for other experiences I wanted, and though I know not everyone can spend two years learning after college, everyone can find her own balance.
I cherish the experiences I had at secular college; they shaped the way I see the world, and I absolutely made the right decision(s) for me. But again, this decision is deeply personal. Only you know what will inspire you and what environment feels right for you. So think carefully, and remember: no decision is ever final!
More Observations on College Selection
Like Rachel, I was hesitant about “piping in” on this one, in my case because I think this decision-making process is so personal that it is difficult for me to write about it without qualifying each of my statements lest someone think it represents an absolute sentiment. However, since we now have student articulations in favor of Stern and in favor of considering other colleges, and we have the experiences of teachers who have gone to Stern but not of those who have gone to other colleges, I’ll chime in with the hopes that broadening the conversation will be of some value to some people.
First, a word about my own decision to attend a secular university. When I was looking into colleges, my first priority was a campus that had a large and vibrant Orthodox Jewish community. “Large” was important to me because, despite the positive things I knew about the smaller but strong Orthodox communities on various campuses, I was not eager for the challenge of seeking Jewish opportunities (learning, davening, dating) where they were not in surplus; some people thrive on that sort of thing, but I found the idea of it too risky. My second priority was a course selection that would quench my thirst for sophisticated intellectual engagement in a wide variety of secular subjects. A few days after my early-decision application to Penn went in the mail, the Stern representative visited Frisch, talked and gave us reading material about the rich Jewish life and Judaic and secular academic offerings at Stern, and showed us a video reflecting the same. I freaked out. It was suddenly very clear to me that I was terrified of leaving the close and safe circle of my Orthodox Jewish community and educational framework. However, I knew myself well enough to recognize that Penn might still have advantages for me personally and intellectually, and so after a few days I resumed waiting anxiously for what I hoped would be a thick envelope (“back in the day”, pre-internet[!!!], that’s how you knew you’d gotten in). Having developed a sense that Penn had the potential to fulfill my college needs, I concluded that the only other appropriate school for me would be Stern.
Penn was great in all the ways I had anticipated. I had numerous chevrutot, participated in shiurim, dated men who shared my values about life and also about the acceptable parameters of dating, and took wonderful courses in History, English, Logic, Constitutional Rights – the list goes on – with wonderful professors. I have never thought about it in the terms Rachel described below, but what she wrote resonates: the communal Shabbat and Chagim experiences remain foremost in my wonderful memories of my undergraduate years. It was the right place *for me*. Stern may have been as well – what I know of Stern back then and today certainly convinces me that, if I had to do it all over again, I would at least look into it more seriously lehatkhila. But I do not regret my choice; knowing oneself is critical in this decision-making process, and given who I was at the time, I believe that Penn was the place where I was most likely to grow intellectually as well as religiously.
Here are a few general observations as I once again watch seniors struggle with this difficult decision:
1. I’m not a big fan of the “put yourself in a challenging situation davka so that you will grow from it” approach to selecting colleges (or summer experiences, or Relationships). Many circumstances in life are inherently challenging. Sometimes they simply insert themselves into our lives, and at other times we choose them because, in the balance, they make overwhelming sense. G-d willing we do grow from them. But we don’t always; sometimes we regress. And so I would urge any senior: if you do consider colleges other than Stern, for G-d’s sake (literally!) – focus your attention on those that make it easy to maintain your halakhic observance and general avodat Hashem and to date only men who share your values!
2. I have found that the more exposure I have had to Jews across denominations and to non-Jews, the more I have been convinced that many ideals that we consider “Jewish values” – e.g. hessed, tzedaka, tzedek u-mishpat – are just as readily human values; upbringing and education make all the difference whether or not one is an Orthodox Jew. Furthermore, I think that a potential downside of remaining – as some on this blog have put it – cloistered exclusively within the frum Jewish community is that one can be sadly ignorant of all that we might learn from and contribute to G-d’s world at large. And so I would urge any senior: if you do feel that Stern is the right place for you, please do not be afraid of learning that people unlike yourself can be ethical and interesting. But never compromise your halakhic commitments in order to do so.
3. If learning Torah is important to you, keep in mind that you will certainly be able la’asot Toratekh keva at universities that have such opportunities, but please do not fool yourself into thinking that it will be as easy to maintain this as it is at a college that incorporates Limudei Kodesh into its core curriculum and in which a high proportion of students share that goal.
4. While I am certain that a Stern education can expose students to a wide variety of excellent professors and courses in General Studies, I do think that, on the whole, world-class secular educational opportunities are more readily available at other private as well as public universities. As a person who almost instinctively appreciates secular knowledge both within the framework of Torah U-Madda and for its own sake, I don’t think there is anything wrong with embracing that value. But, as Mrs. Sinensky has written, each student needs to decide the degree of that value in her life.
5. Anticipating college (as well as your year in Israel) may be the first experience you have in imagining yourself as an adult with adult choices to make. On the other hand, for many if not most of you, the conversations about it will often take place with your parents. They frequently – and appropriately – will express a personal stake in your choice, and they will frequently have something important to say about the financial element of your decision. Please try to tow the line maturely between manifesting independence and maintaining kibbud av va-em.
Be-hatzlaha to all of you with this decision.
First, a word about my own decision to attend a secular university. When I was looking into colleges, my first priority was a campus that had a large and vibrant Orthodox Jewish community. “Large” was important to me because, despite the positive things I knew about the smaller but strong Orthodox communities on various campuses, I was not eager for the challenge of seeking Jewish opportunities (learning, davening, dating) where they were not in surplus; some people thrive on that sort of thing, but I found the idea of it too risky. My second priority was a course selection that would quench my thirst for sophisticated intellectual engagement in a wide variety of secular subjects. A few days after my early-decision application to Penn went in the mail, the Stern representative visited Frisch, talked and gave us reading material about the rich Jewish life and Judaic and secular academic offerings at Stern, and showed us a video reflecting the same. I freaked out. It was suddenly very clear to me that I was terrified of leaving the close and safe circle of my Orthodox Jewish community and educational framework. However, I knew myself well enough to recognize that Penn might still have advantages for me personally and intellectually, and so after a few days I resumed waiting anxiously for what I hoped would be a thick envelope (“back in the day”, pre-internet[!!!], that’s how you knew you’d gotten in). Having developed a sense that Penn had the potential to fulfill my college needs, I concluded that the only other appropriate school for me would be Stern.
Penn was great in all the ways I had anticipated. I had numerous chevrutot, participated in shiurim, dated men who shared my values about life and also about the acceptable parameters of dating, and took wonderful courses in History, English, Logic, Constitutional Rights – the list goes on – with wonderful professors. I have never thought about it in the terms Rachel described below, but what she wrote resonates: the communal Shabbat and Chagim experiences remain foremost in my wonderful memories of my undergraduate years. It was the right place *for me*. Stern may have been as well – what I know of Stern back then and today certainly convinces me that, if I had to do it all over again, I would at least look into it more seriously lehatkhila. But I do not regret my choice; knowing oneself is critical in this decision-making process, and given who I was at the time, I believe that Penn was the place where I was most likely to grow intellectually as well as religiously.
Here are a few general observations as I once again watch seniors struggle with this difficult decision:
1. I’m not a big fan of the “put yourself in a challenging situation davka so that you will grow from it” approach to selecting colleges (or summer experiences, or Relationships). Many circumstances in life are inherently challenging. Sometimes they simply insert themselves into our lives, and at other times we choose them because, in the balance, they make overwhelming sense. G-d willing we do grow from them. But we don’t always; sometimes we regress. And so I would urge any senior: if you do consider colleges other than Stern, for G-d’s sake (literally!) – focus your attention on those that make it easy to maintain your halakhic observance and general avodat Hashem and to date only men who share your values!
2. I have found that the more exposure I have had to Jews across denominations and to non-Jews, the more I have been convinced that many ideals that we consider “Jewish values” – e.g. hessed, tzedaka, tzedek u-mishpat – are just as readily human values; upbringing and education make all the difference whether or not one is an Orthodox Jew. Furthermore, I think that a potential downside of remaining – as some on this blog have put it – cloistered exclusively within the frum Jewish community is that one can be sadly ignorant of all that we might learn from and contribute to G-d’s world at large. And so I would urge any senior: if you do feel that Stern is the right place for you, please do not be afraid of learning that people unlike yourself can be ethical and interesting. But never compromise your halakhic commitments in order to do so.
3. If learning Torah is important to you, keep in mind that you will certainly be able la’asot Toratekh keva at universities that have such opportunities, but please do not fool yourself into thinking that it will be as easy to maintain this as it is at a college that incorporates Limudei Kodesh into its core curriculum and in which a high proportion of students share that goal.
4. While I am certain that a Stern education can expose students to a wide variety of excellent professors and courses in General Studies, I do think that, on the whole, world-class secular educational opportunities are more readily available at other private as well as public universities. As a person who almost instinctively appreciates secular knowledge both within the framework of Torah U-Madda and for its own sake, I don’t think there is anything wrong with embracing that value. But, as Mrs. Sinensky has written, each student needs to decide the degree of that value in her life.
5. Anticipating college (as well as your year in Israel) may be the first experience you have in imagining yourself as an adult with adult choices to make. On the other hand, for many if not most of you, the conversations about it will often take place with your parents. They frequently – and appropriately – will express a personal stake in your choice, and they will frequently have something important to say about the financial element of your decision. Please try to tow the line maturely between manifesting independence and maintaining kibbud av va-em.
Be-hatzlaha to all of you with this decision.
Chewing Gum
Penina Cohen asks: I know that if 72 minutes pass in between eating and benching, you may not bench. Does chewing gum within the 72 minutes count as eating and therefore the 72 minutes begins after the gum is finished, or does it not count?
Hi Penina,
I think that the 72 minutes start after your actual "meal" is over. Since gum is not a part of your meal, the 72 minutes would start when you ate the last actual food that constituted your meal.
Hi Penina,
I think that the 72 minutes start after your actual "meal" is over. Since gum is not a part of your meal, the 72 minutes would start when you ate the last actual food that constituted your meal.
Friday, October 30, 2009
On the Other Hand
I wasn't going to pipe in on this one, but I feel a need to play devil's advocate.
In a way, my story is the opposite of Jenn's. I was always convinced that I was going to Stern, until at some point last year when I decided why not see what else is out there. So I visited and did my research, and I have this to respond to Jenn's points (I have her okay on the matter):
1. The fact that Stern exists today is incredible. But the fact that something exists is not a reason to go somewhere. The freedom to practice religion openly in secular campus and have a minyan three times a day and kosher food in every dining hall on campus also didn't exist in most of our grandparents time.
2. In terms of learning, I definitely agree with Jenn and Mrs. Knoll and Mrs. Sinensky that that's a personal decision everybody needs to make on their own, in terms of what kind of environment is most conducive to your personal growth in Torah. And there are undeniably more opportunities at Stern. That said, I think the level of top notch serious learning that goes on on some of these secular campuses has been downplayed. Go to any Yavneh (or whatever they call the Orthodox branch of Hillel) website of most of the mainstream secular colleges that Yeshiva graduates go to and you'll see that there are almost always shiurim every night. Walk into the beit midrash at any given time and, (depending on the specific college), and you'll most probably find people learning independently and bchevruta. And they're learning serious stuff, too. The opportunities are right before you. No, they won't be forced upon you like they will at Stern (which again, is definitely not a bad thing). It will require an ounce of self motivation, but I think Ma'ayanot has well supplied us with that.
3. I think that there's a good chance that had I not gone to Maayanot (or an institution that would have provided my with an equal love and education in Gemara, if such an institution exists) I wouldn't have considered anything but Stern. But davka because Ma'ayanot has provided such a stellar background in Jewish studies (not even specifically Gemara, actually), I feel that I can explore other options. Ma'ayanot prides itself on its unique approach to Jewish education, on its ability to produce independent learners and thinkers, people who have the skills and ability to continue their pursuit of Torah study on their own. If that's the case (which thank God it is), then why should an environment in which everyone around has the same basic set of values be a factor (or necessity) in choosing a college experience? Hasn't Ma'ayanot prepared us for just that- to excercise our beliefs and continue our learning even (or davka) when not everyone around us is?
4. In terms of being a "worldly person." Jenn's lucky, she lives in the city. Most of us don't, and we have no idea what diversity is. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a believer of diversity for the sake of diversity. But like Mrs. Knoll said, I really think it's true that exposure to different ways of life makes you rethink your practices, and from the people I know in secular colleges, most of the time this has a truly positive effect. After all, how many of us actually know the origins of why we wash on bread or how to explain the reconciliation of evolution and sefer breishit? Exposure, as I've learned from speaking with frum kids in secular colleges, allows for both a better understanding and a greater appreciation of where you've come from.
5. Yes, at Stern you are surrounded by a majority of student and faculty body that share your relgious beliefs, but the fact is that Stern's general sense of Jewish community is not comparable to those found in secular colleges with strong Jewish populations. Davening with a minyan three times a day, chagim on campus, the Shabbat environment and all that includes (zmirot, slow shira, student divrei torah and shiurim) are a huge part of the religious experience at secular colleges, a factor that Stern for the most part lacks (because of it's nature of an all girls school, and its huge number of frum kids).
I think I covered the basics, though there's always more to say. I don't mean to write off Stern (I may even end up there)- it has all the advantages that Jenn and Mrs. Sinensky and Mrs. Knoll presented. But I think that it's crucial to keep in mind that not choosing Stern doesn't mean that you're making an active decision that Judaism and Torah isn't the most important thing in your life. These decisions are tough ones...
Thanks- Rachel Friedman
In a way, my story is the opposite of Jenn's. I was always convinced that I was going to Stern, until at some point last year when I decided why not see what else is out there. So I visited and did my research, and I have this to respond to Jenn's points (I have her okay on the matter):
1. The fact that Stern exists today is incredible. But the fact that something exists is not a reason to go somewhere. The freedom to practice religion openly in secular campus and have a minyan three times a day and kosher food in every dining hall on campus also didn't exist in most of our grandparents time.
2. In terms of learning, I definitely agree with Jenn and Mrs. Knoll and Mrs. Sinensky that that's a personal decision everybody needs to make on their own, in terms of what kind of environment is most conducive to your personal growth in Torah. And there are undeniably more opportunities at Stern. That said, I think the level of top notch serious learning that goes on on some of these secular campuses has been downplayed. Go to any Yavneh (or whatever they call the Orthodox branch of Hillel) website of most of the mainstream secular colleges that Yeshiva graduates go to and you'll see that there are almost always shiurim every night. Walk into the beit midrash at any given time and, (depending on the specific college), and you'll most probably find people learning independently and bchevruta. And they're learning serious stuff, too. The opportunities are right before you. No, they won't be forced upon you like they will at Stern (which again, is definitely not a bad thing). It will require an ounce of self motivation, but I think Ma'ayanot has well supplied us with that.
3. I think that there's a good chance that had I not gone to Maayanot (or an institution that would have provided my with an equal love and education in Gemara, if such an institution exists) I wouldn't have considered anything but Stern. But davka because Ma'ayanot has provided such a stellar background in Jewish studies (not even specifically Gemara, actually), I feel that I can explore other options. Ma'ayanot prides itself on its unique approach to Jewish education, on its ability to produce independent learners and thinkers, people who have the skills and ability to continue their pursuit of Torah study on their own. If that's the case (which thank God it is), then why should an environment in which everyone around has the same basic set of values be a factor (or necessity) in choosing a college experience? Hasn't Ma'ayanot prepared us for just that- to excercise our beliefs and continue our learning even (or davka) when not everyone around us is?
4. In terms of being a "worldly person." Jenn's lucky, she lives in the city. Most of us don't, and we have no idea what diversity is. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a believer of diversity for the sake of diversity. But like Mrs. Knoll said, I really think it's true that exposure to different ways of life makes you rethink your practices, and from the people I know in secular colleges, most of the time this has a truly positive effect. After all, how many of us actually know the origins of why we wash on bread or how to explain the reconciliation of evolution and sefer breishit? Exposure, as I've learned from speaking with frum kids in secular colleges, allows for both a better understanding and a greater appreciation of where you've come from.
5. Yes, at Stern you are surrounded by a majority of student and faculty body that share your relgious beliefs, but the fact is that Stern's general sense of Jewish community is not comparable to those found in secular colleges with strong Jewish populations. Davening with a minyan three times a day, chagim on campus, the Shabbat environment and all that includes (zmirot, slow shira, student divrei torah and shiurim) are a huge part of the religious experience at secular colleges, a factor that Stern for the most part lacks (because of it's nature of an all girls school, and its huge number of frum kids).
I think I covered the basics, though there's always more to say. I don't mean to write off Stern (I may even end up there)- it has all the advantages that Jenn and Mrs. Sinensky and Mrs. Knoll presented. But I think that it's crucial to keep in mind that not choosing Stern doesn't mean that you're making an active decision that Judaism and Torah isn't the most important thing in your life. These decisions are tough ones...
Thanks- Rachel Friedman
Thursday, October 29, 2009
A Student on Stern
Hi,
So I heard there was a post on the blog about Stern College and I decided to check it out. I don’t really know how this blog thing works but I had a few comments being that I am applying to Stern and I strongly stand behind my decision.
A year ago today I would have never imagined that I would be applying and considering Stern. I remember my father telling me throughout sophmore and junior year to “get excited for Stern” and I would look at his as if he were crazy and tell him that there was NO WAY I was going to Stern. I had this picture in my head of finally breaking out of my “Ma’ayanot Jewish Bubble” (ignoring that I live in the city where I am not really THAT isolated from the “real world”) and being part of a secular college where Id be able to meet all different types of people and become a “more worldly” person. I thought that college would be what I saw in the movies and I couldn’t wait to sort of “break free” and get away from the dual curriculum and dress codes that became somewhat a burden to me.
This all lasted until this past summer when I was able to sit down and look at my life and really start to think about what I wanted out of it. I knew I would come into school and be bombarded with college and Israel applications and I wanted to start the process to avoid the stress I knew it would come with. It was during this time that I really became attracted to the idea of a Jewish college and the more I thought about it the more I began to really believe in what was going through my head.Just to share a few of my thoughts:
1. I think it is extremely important for every Jewish girl (with a few exceptions) to look into Stern. I know that most of us take for granted the fact that we are given the incredible opportunity to go to a school with a dual curriculum. We don’t realize what an amazing thing it is to be educated both in the secular field as well as in Jewish studies. Years ago, this opportunity wasn’t available.. Ask your grandparents, they’ll tell you how it wasn’t so easy for them.
2. On a personal level, I know that if I were to attend a secular college I wouldn’t necessarily pick up a book and learn Torah in my free time. (I know this is not the case for everyone) I remember thinking to myself that if I were to attend a secular college would that be saying “Im done, im finished with my jewish education?!” and truthfully I think that yes, while of course I would be able to learn with my friends or even on my own, it would be nothing compared to what I would be learning at Stern! While this might not be at the top of everyones priorities, think of it this way.. We have the rest of our lives to live as Jews, how could you give up an opportunity to educate yourself in the material you will need to continue your life as a religious woman?! (including raising a Jewish family which all of us iyH will be doing!) This is something every girl needs to consider when she starts to think about the rest of her life, “do I wanna enhance my religious self?” Now, yes of course life will go on and you will be an educated Jew regardless of whether you attend Stern or not but the more the merrier! And to just repeat. How could you give up such a tremendous opportunity! And do you really want to put a end (or at least slow down) your Jewish education? These are things I think are really important to think about.
3. This may not apply to everyone but since I live in the city and don’t consider myself “sheltered” or “Naïve” I asked myself this question : Do you consider yourself a “worldly” or “street smart” person? Have you been exposed to things outside of your Jewish community? If you answered yes, which I did, then you don’t need to worry about the whole idea of missing out on a “Real college experience” because you know what’s out there and going to Stern really wont effect your worldly-ness. You got it already, you don’t need the “exposure to the real world “ that “happens” when you go to a secular college.
4. Also, Don’t keep telling yourself that you are keeping yourself in your Jewish circle (in a negative tone) because college is college, Sterns in the city, its not isolated from the world, just because its only made up of Jewish girls doesn’t mean its got the same “isolated in your Jewish circle- high school” feel. Its not.
Now everything I said, of course, doesn’t apply to everyone and it doesn’t mean that I think EVERY GIRL MUST GO TO STERN but im sure almost everyone can relate to at least one of the points I made and I think its important that every girl weigh her options and really open their eyes and look at Stern without a “pre-concieved” attitude and also, realize the incredible opportunity they would be giving up if they didn’t give Stern the chance.Thanks---Jennifer Herskowitz
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Response to Mrs. Knoll
I am so happy that Mrs. Knoll posted her thoughts on Stern College! I hear the 4 main points that Mrs. Knoll outlines regarding the potential benefits of attending one of the Ivies, and have some additional thoughts.
Regarding point A)—the potential religious growth that one can experience from being in a less-religious environment: I think that while this can be true for some people, one really needs to be honest with herself regarding if she is one of these people who davka “needs” to be in a “counter-culture” to grow religiously, or if she isn’t like most people who thrive by being surrounded by familiar values, positive religious role models, and readily available religious opportunities. This can be a difficult decision to make, and one that I think could be best made by introspecting and discussing with teachers, parents, advisors, friends, etc.
Regarding point B)—that the education at the Ivies may be superior to that at Stern College: I think that it is important to think about whether having the absolute “best” secular education is important to you, or if having a really amazing one that is not “the best” is something that works for you. To be honest, there are some works of literature that I wish I would have been exposed to in a more structured setting, and had I been in those Ivy required freshman seminars (I think Columbia calls it "LITHUM" or something), would have read. At the same time, I absolutely feel that my Stern education equipped me to read those works on my own, and I have read and B"H will read some of the works that I didn’t get to read in college.
Regarding point C)—that there is sophistication that comes from being new experiences, etc.: I think that is definitely true, based on my conversations with friends and colleagues about these issues. At the same time, there are other opportunities that we have in our lives to be exposed to these things if we choose, and that time necessarily doesn’t need to be during college.
Mrs. Knoll writes, “I genuinely believe it is a legitimate choice to go Ivy, but don’t do it without at least a glance behind. At least recognize that the same way as one sacrifices some degree of secular education by not going Ivy, she equally, if not more, sacrifices some degree of Jewish education by not going to Stern.”
I 100% agree that there are reasons to go Ivy, as long as the decision is made considering all the above points. The point Mrs. Knoll is making is that there is a significant sacrifice that a person makes if she chooses not to go to Stern. Stern does not just provide the opportunity to take Judaic Studies classes on a high level, but also offers the opportunity to be in an environment with religious role models, to be near a packed Beit Midrash, and to have all sorts of other religious opportunities at one’s fingertips.
On a personal note: During my first year at Stern, a Columbia application sat on my desk for a few months. After my first semester, when I had figured out which were the most challenging and interesting classes, I didn’t feel that I needed Columbia to get what I wanted out of my college experience. I found the Honors Program to be fantastic, and found the opportunity to write my thesis in Philosophy with Dr. Shatz to be a once-in-a-lifetime experience that I gained tremendously from in many respects. However, even before I joined the Honors Program (I only joined after my first year because I forgot to apply before!), I found many of the non-Honors classes that I chose to be truly wonderful.
In short—Stern is not a “one size fits all” option. But neither are the Ivies. As with most “big” decisions in life, there is a lot to consider. And if you make the wrong decision, you’re not stuck either. But it is definitely worth thinking about these issues seriously, because college will be a significant part of shaping who you are as an individual and as a Jew.
Regarding point A)—the potential religious growth that one can experience from being in a less-religious environment: I think that while this can be true for some people, one really needs to be honest with herself regarding if she is one of these people who davka “needs” to be in a “counter-culture” to grow religiously, or if she isn’t like most people who thrive by being surrounded by familiar values, positive religious role models, and readily available religious opportunities. This can be a difficult decision to make, and one that I think could be best made by introspecting and discussing with teachers, parents, advisors, friends, etc.
Regarding point B)—that the education at the Ivies may be superior to that at Stern College: I think that it is important to think about whether having the absolute “best” secular education is important to you, or if having a really amazing one that is not “the best” is something that works for you. To be honest, there are some works of literature that I wish I would have been exposed to in a more structured setting, and had I been in those Ivy required freshman seminars (I think Columbia calls it "LITHUM" or something), would have read. At the same time, I absolutely feel that my Stern education equipped me to read those works on my own, and I have read and B"H will read some of the works that I didn’t get to read in college.
Regarding point C)—that there is sophistication that comes from being new experiences, etc.: I think that is definitely true, based on my conversations with friends and colleagues about these issues. At the same time, there are other opportunities that we have in our lives to be exposed to these things if we choose, and that time necessarily doesn’t need to be during college.
Mrs. Knoll writes, “I genuinely believe it is a legitimate choice to go Ivy, but don’t do it without at least a glance behind. At least recognize that the same way as one sacrifices some degree of secular education by not going Ivy, she equally, if not more, sacrifices some degree of Jewish education by not going to Stern.”
I 100% agree that there are reasons to go Ivy, as long as the decision is made considering all the above points. The point Mrs. Knoll is making is that there is a significant sacrifice that a person makes if she chooses not to go to Stern. Stern does not just provide the opportunity to take Judaic Studies classes on a high level, but also offers the opportunity to be in an environment with religious role models, to be near a packed Beit Midrash, and to have all sorts of other religious opportunities at one’s fingertips.
On a personal note: During my first year at Stern, a Columbia application sat on my desk for a few months. After my first semester, when I had figured out which were the most challenging and interesting classes, I didn’t feel that I needed Columbia to get what I wanted out of my college experience. I found the Honors Program to be fantastic, and found the opportunity to write my thesis in Philosophy with Dr. Shatz to be a once-in-a-lifetime experience that I gained tremendously from in many respects. However, even before I joined the Honors Program (I only joined after my first year because I forgot to apply before!), I found many of the non-Honors classes that I chose to be truly wonderful.
In short—Stern is not a “one size fits all” option. But neither are the Ivies. As with most “big” decisions in life, there is a lot to consider. And if you make the wrong decision, you’re not stuck either. But it is definitely worth thinking about these issues seriously, because college will be a significant part of shaping who you are as an individual and as a Jew.
Tuesday, October 27, 2009
Stern College
I just wanted to share my thoughts about Stern College with the student body (or whoever reads the blog). I want to say at the outset that I do NOT think everyone should go to Stern. This is for a number of reasons: a) Some people will grow more Jewishly on a secular college campus than they would in Stern. Some people thrive more when they are in a situation in which they really make a noticeable difference and must take leadership positions, whether officially by having a position in the Hillel or unofficially simply by standing out as an example of a committed Jew. In addition, some people grow more when surrounded by people who are NOT like them, which forces them to be more genuine and sincere in their own practice. If you’ve only kept kosher when surrounded by other people who are all also keeping kosher, doing so does not necessarily express deep commitment to halacha – it’s just what everyone in your world does. But being the only one in class who can’t eat the popcorn that’s being passed around makes you think seriously about your practices. This can have a detrimental effect on many people, but there are also many who are strengthened by it, and whose practices become more substantive and meaningful. In addition, in a secular setting, one has to be able to explain one’s beliefs and practices to others, which can also force one to develop a deeper understanding of her own religion. Finally, being exposed to other cultures often makes one appreciate the beauty and wisdom of one’s own. (Again, this can sometimes unfortunately have the opposite effect, but I recognize that for some people, it has a positive one.) b) I think one has to admit that the secular education offered in an Ivy League University is better than the one offered at Stern. My friends who attended Ivy Universities had significantly more readings and more papers than I did. This was based partially on the fact that since at Stern, we were balancing a dual curriculum and were often taking seven courses a semester in contrast to the Ivies’ 4, we simply did not have the time to devote hours of preparation prior to each course. In addition, since the Ivies only accept the “crème de la crème,” the professors expected and demanded more. c) There is a certain sophistication that comes from being exposed to new experiences, different cultures, eclectic classes and people that can deepen one’s character and perspective in significant ways. d) The Ivy name on a resume can help get into a graduate program, land a job, etc.
HOWEVER, what I think is critical for any college-bound frum Jew to recognize is that even though the Ivies do surpass Stern in a number of important areas, Stern surpasses the Ivies in other areas, including academic ones. As I wrote above, I do believe the Ivies offer a superior education in secular studies than Stern does. But Stern not only offers a superior education in Torah than the Ivies do, the Ivies aren’t even in the same league! The degree to which one’s secular education suffers in Stern, I think, pales in comparison to the degree to which one’s Jewish education suffers in a secular college. I think it is one’s prerogative once she is graduating high school to decide that her secular studies are more important to her than her Judaic ones, or one may feel that she is more capable of supplementing Judaic studies on her own than secular ones (though I am not sure why this would be – it would seem to me to be easier to analyze an English text on one’s own than an Aramaic or Hebrew one). But my main point is simply this – I genuinely believe it is a legitimate choice to go Ivy, but don’t do it without at least a glance behind. At least recognize that the same way as one sacrifices some degree of secular education by not going Ivy, she equally, if not more, sacrifices some degree of Jewish education by not going to Stern.
One last point I want to express is that, as I wrote in the first paragraph, one of the primary advantages of a secular university over Stern is the exposure to different people from different cultures and backgrounds. I do believe that such exposure can be extremely valuable in terms of one’s own sophistication, depth of character, sensitivity, worldliness, etc. However, I think it’s important to point out that we often idealize these communities and view them as some type of intellectual paradise, while forgetting about all the drinking, sex, drugs, and who-knows-what-else that also go on at every college campus in America. So these communities do provide certain invaluable opportunities and experiences, but it’s important when making a decision not to forget about the darker side as well.
To sum up, I do believe that there are very legitimate reasons to choose a secular college – they do offer many valuable intellectual and social experiences that Stern does not, but make the decision with your eyes open, recognizing that Stern also offers many valuable intellectual and social experiences that a secular college does not.
HOWEVER, what I think is critical for any college-bound frum Jew to recognize is that even though the Ivies do surpass Stern in a number of important areas, Stern surpasses the Ivies in other areas, including academic ones. As I wrote above, I do believe the Ivies offer a superior education in secular studies than Stern does. But Stern not only offers a superior education in Torah than the Ivies do, the Ivies aren’t even in the same league! The degree to which one’s secular education suffers in Stern, I think, pales in comparison to the degree to which one’s Jewish education suffers in a secular college. I think it is one’s prerogative once she is graduating high school to decide that her secular studies are more important to her than her Judaic ones, or one may feel that she is more capable of supplementing Judaic studies on her own than secular ones (though I am not sure why this would be – it would seem to me to be easier to analyze an English text on one’s own than an Aramaic or Hebrew one). But my main point is simply this – I genuinely believe it is a legitimate choice to go Ivy, but don’t do it without at least a glance behind. At least recognize that the same way as one sacrifices some degree of secular education by not going Ivy, she equally, if not more, sacrifices some degree of Jewish education by not going to Stern.
One last point I want to express is that, as I wrote in the first paragraph, one of the primary advantages of a secular university over Stern is the exposure to different people from different cultures and backgrounds. I do believe that such exposure can be extremely valuable in terms of one’s own sophistication, depth of character, sensitivity, worldliness, etc. However, I think it’s important to point out that we often idealize these communities and view them as some type of intellectual paradise, while forgetting about all the drinking, sex, drugs, and who-knows-what-else that also go on at every college campus in America. So these communities do provide certain invaluable opportunities and experiences, but it’s important when making a decision not to forget about the darker side as well.
To sum up, I do believe that there are very legitimate reasons to choose a secular college – they do offer many valuable intellectual and social experiences that Stern does not, but make the decision with your eyes open, recognizing that Stern also offers many valuable intellectual and social experiences that a secular college does not.
Re Lashon Hara & the Torah
What an interesting conversation. I once heard a shiur from Rabbi Saul Zucker in Camp Morasha. He was explaining why lashon hara would be worse than motzi shem ra. Isn't worse to say something bad about a person that is not true than something that is? In Western law, truth is an absolute defense against charges of libel or slander, how can it be better to make something up than to simply report the truth?
He answered (based on a Rambam) that when we speak lashon hara, besides the bein adam l'chaveiro offense, we are also committing a sin bein adam lamakom. Hashem is meant to be the sole judge in the world, to the point that when human shoftim judge, it is only permissible because they are serving as God's agents (-the Torah calls a court Elohim). So when people speak motzi shem ra, they has offended the person and told a lie - both terrible crimes, but comparable to other similar offenses. When they tell lashon hara though, they have usurped the domain of Hashem by judging the object of the talk.
If so, much of the damage caused by lashon hara is not relevant to the Torah, as Hashem Himself is doing the judging.
As a side point this would also explain the otherwise bizarre discussion of the חטא המרגלים as being lashon hara against Eretz Yisrael. Though we find that Moshe was obligated to show הכרת הטוב to the Nile & earth, that is pretty clearly an inwardly directed מדות issue (no?). Why would lashon hara against a land (even Eretz Yisrael) be so terrible, if LH were primarily a bein adam l'chaveiro issue? Perhaps Rabbi Zucker's approach makes it easier to understand.
Monday, October 26, 2009
de'oraita vs. de'Rabbanan
Hooray! Why- aanot is back!! I would just like to express my appreciation for the blog, and how much I enjoy, learn from, and stalk the blog. It was an amazing initiative for Maayanot, and reading it daily is truly a favorite past time of mine.
As for my question: Over the summer and in school, I encountered the idea of mitzvot being di'oraita or d'rabanan many times. On the one hand, we see mitvot d'rabanan as very important commandments, and some even go as far as to say that they are considered d'oraita based on a pasuk in Devarim, about listening to the words of the rabbis. On the other hand, we see that there is a major discrepancy between d'oraita and d'rabanan when discussing the severity of the mitvot. It seems like we sometimes inply that breaking a mitzva d'rabanan isn't so bad. It is understood that we must keep the mitzvot, and they are still very important, but they seem almost second rate to d'oraita. How do we reconcile these two ideas about mizvot d'rabananan?-- -Penina Cohen
Hi Penina!
Rather than answer your question, I thought I would add more food for thought (or more confusion!) regarding the issue. On the one hand, it seems pretty clear, as you wrote, that de'oraitas take precedence over de'Rabbanans. After all, the former is from God Himself and the latter, "only" from the Rabbis. But on the other hand, consider the sugya that you may have learned back in 9th grade in Masechet Rosh HaShanah (29b) about what happens when RH falls on Shabbat (as it did this year) - Even though GOD gave us an explicit commandment to blow shofar on RH (without saying that Shabbat should be any different), the RABBIS decided that due to a concern that people might come to carry the shofar and thereby desecrate Shabbat, we should NOT fulfill our mitzvah de'oraita of blowing shofar on RH. The principle behind this is called yesh koach be'yad Chachamim la'akor davar min haTorah. It only applies in situations of shev v'al ta'aseh (the Rabbis can tell us to refrain from fulfilling a Torah obligation but cannot tell us to actively violate a lo ta'aseh), but still, the very fact that the Rabbis can essentially take precedence over the Torah in certain situations does raise exactly your question - what exactly is the relationship between de'oraitas and de'rabbanans? Interestingly, in the RH example, the Rabbis told us to refrain from fulfilling one de'oraita (shofar) only so as to protect another de'oraita (Shabbat); they did not simply decide to override a de'oraita for their own sake. But the fact that they have this power at all is still fascinating.
Another related issue: Did you ever learn the sugya of osek b'mitzvah patur min hamitzvah - if you're involved in performing one mitzvah, you're exempt from performing another? (We used to teach it in Ma'ayanot but then too many of the elementary schools started doing it.) Anyway, a really interesting question debated by Rishonim and Achronim is: what if the first mitzvah you're involved in is a mitzvah de'Rabbanan and then a mitzvah de'oraita comes along - Does your involvement in a de'Rabbanan exempt you from the de'oraita??? Hmmm....
Anyway, hope you're not too frustrated that my response contains more questions than answers but you raised an excellent and very complicated issue that doesn't have a simple, clear-cut, straight-forward answer. Keep thinking about it and let us know what you come up with!
Mrs. Dena Knoll
As for my question: Over the summer and in school, I encountered the idea of mitzvot being di'oraita or d'rabanan many times. On the one hand, we see mitvot d'rabanan as very important commandments, and some even go as far as to say that they are considered d'oraita based on a pasuk in Devarim, about listening to the words of the rabbis. On the other hand, we see that there is a major discrepancy between d'oraita and d'rabanan when discussing the severity of the mitvot. It seems like we sometimes inply that breaking a mitzva d'rabanan isn't so bad. It is understood that we must keep the mitzvot, and they are still very important, but they seem almost second rate to d'oraita. How do we reconcile these two ideas about mizvot d'rabananan?-- -Penina Cohen
Hi Penina!
Rather than answer your question, I thought I would add more food for thought (or more confusion!) regarding the issue. On the one hand, it seems pretty clear, as you wrote, that de'oraitas take precedence over de'Rabbanans. After all, the former is from God Himself and the latter, "only" from the Rabbis. But on the other hand, consider the sugya that you may have learned back in 9th grade in Masechet Rosh HaShanah (29b) about what happens when RH falls on Shabbat (as it did this year) - Even though GOD gave us an explicit commandment to blow shofar on RH (without saying that Shabbat should be any different), the RABBIS decided that due to a concern that people might come to carry the shofar and thereby desecrate Shabbat, we should NOT fulfill our mitzvah de'oraita of blowing shofar on RH. The principle behind this is called yesh koach be'yad Chachamim la'akor davar min haTorah. It only applies in situations of shev v'al ta'aseh (the Rabbis can tell us to refrain from fulfilling a Torah obligation but cannot tell us to actively violate a lo ta'aseh), but still, the very fact that the Rabbis can essentially take precedence over the Torah in certain situations does raise exactly your question - what exactly is the relationship between de'oraitas and de'rabbanans? Interestingly, in the RH example, the Rabbis told us to refrain from fulfilling one de'oraita (shofar) only so as to protect another de'oraita (Shabbat); they did not simply decide to override a de'oraita for their own sake. But the fact that they have this power at all is still fascinating.
Another related issue: Did you ever learn the sugya of osek b'mitzvah patur min hamitzvah - if you're involved in performing one mitzvah, you're exempt from performing another? (We used to teach it in Ma'ayanot but then too many of the elementary schools started doing it.) Anyway, a really interesting question debated by Rishonim and Achronim is: what if the first mitzvah you're involved in is a mitzvah de'Rabbanan and then a mitzvah de'oraita comes along - Does your involvement in a de'Rabbanan exempt you from the de'oraita??? Hmmm....
Anyway, hope you're not too frustrated that my response contains more questions than answers but you raised an excellent and very complicated issue that doesn't have a simple, clear-cut, straight-forward answer. Keep thinking about it and let us know what you come up with!
Mrs. Dena Knoll
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Post-Wedding Thoughts
I was at a wedding tonight, and during the singing of "im eshkachech Yerushalayim" I began thinking to myself: How often, besides for on Tisha B'Av and at weddings, do I spend a few quiet moments thinking about Yerushalayim? The Shulchan Aruch notes a number of "zecher l'Churban" practices, including tearing kriah when we see Yerushalayim, and leaving a corner of our homes unpainted. However, these things do not necessarily help us consistently to remember Yerushalayim and its centrality to Jewish communal and religious life. There is, however, a bracha that we say in Shmoneh Esreh twice (or three times) a day about Yerushalayim. I hope we can use this as our daily/twice daily reminder to think about Yerushalayim, and not just leave it for the once-in-a-while weddings!
Schar Mitzvah B'hai Alma?
Dear Why-aanot,
Before I sit down to do my homework, I usually check the blog, one of my favorite websites. Tonight, as I sat down to write a college essay, I decided to first check the blog. I am still not sure why I decided to do so considering I had checked it about 15 minutes earlier, but I did. To my surprise there were two new posts! I immediately read both and coincidentally (or not) Rabbi Lamm's derasha related perfectly to the college essay I was writing, and I was even able to reference a few ideas from it! I just wanted to say thank you!
Jordana Wietschner
Before I sit down to do my homework, I usually check the blog, one of my favorite websites. Tonight, as I sat down to write a college essay, I decided to first check the blog. I am still not sure why I decided to do so considering I had checked it about 15 minutes earlier, but I did. To my surprise there were two new posts! I immediately read both and coincidentally (or not) Rabbi Lamm's derasha related perfectly to the college essay I was writing, and I was even able to reference a few ideas from it! I just wanted to say thank you!
Jordana Wietschner
Friday, October 23, 2009
Noach
- Here is a shiur by Rabbi Eytan Mayer (husband of our Israel liason, Mrs. Mayer) that came up in mishmar last night, about how the mabul was a reversal of the creation of the world. (If you're looking for someone to read regularly, he's a good choice.) I would add, the following: See Rashi ז:כג- ד"ה אך נח and note the supremacy of animal over man reversing the order (both in terms of creation chronology and G-d’s command) of day 6. If the world was created in progressing order of advancement, then the מבול reversed this process as well, with the waters of day 2 overpowering the vegetation of day 3, which at least survived. The constellations of day 4 survived the flood, but hibernated (רש"י ח:כב, ד"ה ויום). The sea creatures of day 5 outlived the animals of day 6 etc.
- This is a famous comedy routine from Bill Cosby on Noah. (if time is short, check out the shiur first.
- This morning, Rachel Friedman spoke about the interplay between Torah and science in the Parsha, specifically as related to the Ramban. Rabbi Yitzchak Etshalom discusses similar issues in his essay on Noach. Rabbi Jonathan Sacks (Chief Rabbi of England) looks at the this week's and last week's parsha through the prism of developmental psychology.
Have a great shabbos.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Does the Torah Itself Speak Lashon Hara?
The eleventh grade is studying Bemidbar perek 12, the lashon hara that Miriam and Aharon spoke about Moshe, and the question arose: isn't learning this story itself lashon hara - about Miriam and Aharon? How about learning the story of Noach's drunkenness in this week's parashah? Or of Adam and Chava's sin? Why are we allowed to discuss and analyze negative stories about biblical figures?
One possible answer (offered, on different occasions, by the aunt-and-niece team of Mrs. and Yael Herzog) is that God Himself gives the "heter" to speak the lashon hara by including the story in the Torah. Both Tzipi Shteingart and Mrs. Cohen suggested that just as speaking negatively about someone is permissible "le-to'elet,"(for a halakhically permitted purpose, such as to protect someone from financial loss) the stories of our founders' sins are included "le-to'elet" - so that we may learn from them. Indeed, Mrs. Kraft pointed out, it puts the responsiblity on us to make sure that we study these stories with that goal in mind, to ask ourselves: what genuinely applicable lesson can we take from this?
Mrs. Herzog also cited the Kuzari - what other religion dares to be so open about the flaws of its founders and leaders? Just as the greatest people in our history made mistakes yet were able to overcome them and develop a relationship with Hashem, so may we strive to do the same.
One possible answer (offered, on different occasions, by the aunt-and-niece team of Mrs. and Yael Herzog) is that God Himself gives the "heter" to speak the lashon hara by including the story in the Torah. Both Tzipi Shteingart and Mrs. Cohen suggested that just as speaking negatively about someone is permissible "le-to'elet,"(for a halakhically permitted purpose, such as to protect someone from financial loss) the stories of our founders' sins are included "le-to'elet" - so that we may learn from them. Indeed, Mrs. Kraft pointed out, it puts the responsiblity on us to make sure that we study these stories with that goal in mind, to ask ourselves: what genuinely applicable lesson can we take from this?
Mrs. Herzog also cited the Kuzari - what other religion dares to be so open about the flaws of its founders and leaders? Just as the greatest people in our history made mistakes yet were able to overcome them and develop a relationship with Hashem, so may we strive to do the same.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Kiddush / Chillul Hashem
On Sunday, I took some of my kids to Madison Square Garden to see what has become an annual exhibition game between the Knicks & Maccabi Tel Aviv to benefit a Tel Aviv orphanage. It was a great afternoon; I saw a bunch of Ma'ayanoters there & the Israeli team was surprisingly competitive. The fans were well behaved, but enthusiastically rooting against the home team. Between the fans and the commercials that made it clear that the whole event was for tzedaka, it was a wonderful kiddush Hashem, with the exception of a ten minute portion when the Maccabi coach was ejected after incessantly screaming at the refs, only instead of walking peacefully back to the locker room, he refused to get off the court, leading Rabbi Grossman, the founder of Migdal Ohr to try to make peace.
Monday, October 19, 2009
Christian Yichud
At the beginning of an otherwise uninteresting column, Newsweek's religion reporter Lisa Miller relays a great story about legendary preacher, Billy Graham:
Billy Graham had a rule. He was a powerful man, away from his
wife and
children more often than he was with them. Aware of the
significance of his
reputation and convinced of the moral value of the
Gospel message, he took
precautions to guard against his own human weakness.
He gave his ministry
colleagues explicit instructions: never leave me alone
in a room with a
woman who is not my wife.
Friday, October 2, 2009
Sukkot
Here are a few resources for those looking for some reading material over the chag.
- First, YU's Sukkot To Go, the publication that you've heard so much about. Again, this issue is highlighted by an article by our own Mrs. Knoll.
- Also, you can check the various sites on the side of this blog, most of which have their own divrei Torah about Sukkot.
- Here is a very brief overview of many of the laws of Sukkot, produced by Nishmat (which reminds me - Aviva, what did your rebbeim say about the 2nd day of Yom Tov - see below).
- Finally, equally important, but not as often studied, here is an overview of the rules of Chol Hamoed.
I hope these are useful and enjoyable (supplementing your learning of Maayanei Torah, of course). Everyone have a great Yom Tov.
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