I saw an article posted today titled “5 Keys to Your Child’s Happiness.”
It was posted by newtips4mamas (twitter) but is found on Oprah.com: http://www.oprah.com/spirit/5-Keys-to-Your-Childs-Happiness/print/1
So states the title, the article is about 5 keys to having happy children. What I find interesting is the research at the beginning of the article that states that a huge majority of parents in 67 (!) countries wish happiness for their children far above all else.
And with my regular level of chutzpah, I think they are getting it wrong.
Or rather, I think the Torah instructs Jewish parents to take a different view, with a different priority.
We need to raise kids to be good, not happy. We need to raise children to do the right thing, to be good and to do good. There are many, many, many times in life that doing that which is right and good does not make us happy.
My husband brought this concept up to me years ago, quoting Dennis Prager as his source. Prager has an article on raising good children in his book Think a Second Time. (As a side note, I don’t agree with lots of things Dennis Prager says, particularly his views on plastic surgery, but about this I think he is on the mark.)
He writes: ” The problem with regard to parents raising good children is not that most parents don’t want their children to be good people. It is that few parents actually make their child’s goodness their primary concern. Most parents are more concerned with their child’s being a brilliant student or a good athlete or a successful professional. ” (pp. 36-7)
Maybe what he would say today is that based on Oprah’s research, most parents are more concerned with their child being happy.
There is something deeper than happy, and I am not sure what one would term it in English. In Hebrew, there are several words for “happy”. Sameach, merutzeh, mapsut, .. . there are more. One of them is to feel “shalem”, which means whole, complete, at peace. I think this kind of happy comes from doing and being good. From knowing your source. Knowing your purpose.
But not immediately. It doesn’t make a young child happy or shalem or anything other than pretty mad to have to share, wait, give instead of take, act selflessly, etc.
However, by raising our children in a Torah path, to be serving our creator and living by the rules of right and wrong contained within halacha, we are training them to be good.
One of the mitzvot contained in that halacha… is to be happy. Not the happy described in the article on Oprah’s website. Not the “I am the most loved, most special, most tended to child” kind of happy… the happy of purpose, of meaning, of being good – and knowing why.
Of course I want my children to be happy. Of course I want them to experience more joy than sorrow and to feel the words of “Modeh Ani” right down to their bones every single morning. But I just don’t agree with the apparently thousands+ of parents they seem to have polled that this is the number one priority, number one wish.
I will suffer on the side as they experience the nisyonot, challenges, that Hashem sends their way. I will hope that they can see all of those future challenges as gam zu l’tovah – Hashem’s will, and ultimately for the good.
I will continue to prioritize their childhood being a development of their goodness… and hope and pray that with it, from it and through it….comes happiness.
I was asked by the local outreach organization to teach a “lunch and learn” class on Tu B’Shvat this past Shabbat. I heartily agreed because I love what they do and love to help them do it. I love to teach and jump at every chance to do so (there aren’t that many). I have been running a women’s Tu B’Shvat seder at the same location for the past four years, and as a result have ended up learning quite a great deal about the holiday.
However, once I had a chance to stop and think about it, I realized that this would be the first time I was teaching a shiur to a mixed crowd. I teach lots of mixed crowds – religious and not religious – but never men and women together. My rebbetzin – who would never agree to do such a thing – gave me a look that read “give me a break”. My husband gave me same look, but even stronger.
I am not shy or in anyway less than completely outspoken in mixed company. I have “addressed” mixed audiences before in the same location… but not as a teacher of a Torah shiur. Not for an hour and a half. I have taken gemara shiurim for women. I studied at Drisha. I had a Rabbi (the brilliant Rabbi David Aaron) speak under my chuppah, but was adamant that I wanted a woman – the incredible Rabbanit Chana Henkin – to speak at the wedding…. so no wonder they gave a look that said “give me a break”, right?
I wrote as my title that I am not a feminist. I am a strong sexist, and a huge fan of womankind.
What I do not support, however, is the idea that we are the same as men in any way, that Hashem wants us to have similar roles in any way, and that male opportunities can and should be given to women wherever and whenever possible. (Even when speaking within the boundaries of halacha.) That is my understanding of what feminism is, and so that makes me not a feminist.
Here’s the thing; I think that women are better at just about everything under the sun than men. Maybe not lifting huge weights or playing football. But if we needed to, we would find a wiser way of getting both of those things done. I have seen and heard and read numerous studies on how women use more parts of their brain. I have read shiurim on how the limitations put on women in Orthodoxy are because we are “exempt” and not because we are “prohibited”. Why do more things than you have to in order to connect to G-d? Why not perfect instead what you do need to do?
My experience of egalitarianism in Judaism is the equivalent of the best behaved child in the school fighting for decades for the right to stay after school in detention.
I once had a dream of becoming a Cantor. I had amazing role models, education and experience to pursue such a thing. My choice to sit behind a mechitza is not because I feel a desire to be subjugated. It comes from a true sense of superiority – not the opposite.
Years ago, I sat in a session at the GA – the General Assembly of the UJA. In this session they were discussing a new crisis in the Hebrew Union College’s Rabbinical program. According to the panel, as the percentage of enrolled female students neared 50, the enrollment of males just started drastically dropping off. The woman on the panel went on to describe studies that had been done in other industries, and cited the same phenomenon in the secular world. Men fled the nursing profession when women began entering it in equal numbers. The rise in female enrollment in medical school, at least according to the panel member, was having the same effect.
This would seem to be data that agrees with the way a sexist Orthodox Jewish structure was explained to me. Women can be rabbis; they can be great rabbis…. but what does that do to the men? There is something in the male psyche and makeup that doesn’t like competing in anything against women.
And I think the sages understood that much better than contemporary secular society would like to.
I know there are some that believe that this is about evolving and growing beyond such primitive and unfair inclinations, but I don’t buy it. If you believe in G-d, and you believe (he) made man and woman the way he did for a reason, then I believe you need to conclude that the differences are not to be ignored or squashed, but acknowledged, celebrated and worked with.
…. So I believe all of that, and still gave this shiur in front of a bunch of men. G-d must have a wonderful sense of humor. Someone in our community had a baby, and while baby and Ima stayed in the hospital, many family members came for the shalom zachor and to lend a hand. From Brooklyn and from Lakewood. With very black hats on their heads. And these family members decided to stay for the ‘lunch and learn’.
Mixed learning in our community, taught by a woman at times, isn’t unusual or controversial. So the issue was with me, and my comfort level. Now, I was dealing with men in my audience who had never (they told me) listened to a shiur by a woman in their lives. So apparently, I was making some statement or stand anyway.
I would love to hear from my readers if my next move was cowardly; I asked the proud new father of said baby to get up and read the Gemara section (the first part of Masechet Rosh Hashana, in the Mishna) that is our first mention of Tu B’Shvat. The truth is he is a wonderful Rebbe in the school and he did a much better job at reading and explaining it than I ever could have. I am quite sure that there is no halachic distinction at all whatsoever between my teaching the class and my reading that Gemara. But I couldn’t do it.
The rest of the shiur I chose to enjoy. After all, no one made anyone stay, or indicated that it would be rude for them to leave. They could have eaten and then left. They chose to be there. They complimented me afterwards. I take comfort in the fact that I seriously doubt that any of the black hat men have ever heard much of anything about Tu B’Shvat at all whatsoever. Certainly not why the kabbalists made a Tu B’Shvat seder and perceived it to be a tikkun.
I am not embarrassed to teach in front of men, and I don’t apologize for my own level of knowledge, access to learning (yes, the Gemara) or my ability to give that knowledge over.
Through this process I have come to realize that ultimately what bothers me is only that I don’t like being the focus of attention in a room for over an hour that isn’t filled solely with women. Although the focus should of course be on the material, in principle I just don’t want to stand up and be that which everyone looks at for such a long period of time in mixed company.
I don’t think that I will agree to do such a thing again. In this particular case, there was a least some strong element of kiruv, outreach, involved. I know there were men at an early point in the Jewish journey who became more connected to the holiday because of my teaching. This is the one aspect that causes my ambivalence.
I have no doubt that the “black hat” men (as if I can judge them by their head covering…) did NOT learn that a woman can be learned and teach a coherent shiur on a topic and give over information they didn’t know. I am 100% certain they already knew that.
I don’t think tzniut is about hiding your talents. G-d forbid. Or denying them. But I do think it is about having the confidence to share them in a way that draws attention to the service of Hashem and only the service of Hashem and not attention to ourselves or what we are capable of.
I hope this is the way in which the shiur was received. I am confident that Hashem is concerned with my intentions.
I am still left with the feeling that I made a statement, and not one I am sure I wanted to make.
I am, after all, a sexist. : )
The Jerusalem Post has an article today by Matthew Wagner, “Sharp rise in haredi IDF enlistment in 2009” .
The article points out that only a small number of the overall “ultra-orthodox” population is serving in the army. However, it also points out the drastic change from only ten years ago. The reality is that their population is exploding compared to the secular Israeli community, and every year it will slowly continue to have a change on every aspect of Israel; the politics, education, real estate, the economy, and even the army.
I am not Hareidi — what I am is up for dispute. I am a Jew. I am sure I will end up blogging about my lack of label one day. But I think this is great news. I am pleased with diversity in the Jewish people, and I am sure that Hashem is just waiting for us to get it right and love all Jews just as they are, really love them in our hearts, so he can send Moshiach our way already.
It isn’t that I want Israel to be a Hareidi country. Nor do I think the increase in the hareidi population percentage is coming without problems. There are plenty of problems. For one, the infrastructure adjustments are being made so much more slowly than the population growth rate. There is clearly a lack of cooperation and interaction and knowledge to deal with some of the challenges. Most of the problems are a result of Israel’s big government and socialism. Again, for another blog post…..
These are some of the reasons I hail this as really good news:
1. Israel has had a deep need to reconcile its secular beginnings and its religious “fan base” for a very long time. The greater the population of active, participating religious Jews in Israel, the closer we will be to this reconciliation being forced into being.
2. The only population committed to growing at the same rate is the Palestinian population.
3. The lines of “who is what” in Israel are blurring. “Hardal” (Hareidi Dati Leumi) didn’t exist as a concept 10 years ago. The blurring is how we get to loving every Jew, no matter what. I hope. Which is how we get to Moshiach… see above.
4. Hareidim from Jerusalem and secular Jews from Haifa have less in common by far than I do with non-Jewish neighbors who live down my street in the US. The army, while a challenging and volatile environment in which it happens, forces people to learn to live together, to learn about each other, and learn to be responsible for each other.
I don’t think the seeming never-ending changes to Israel’s population makeup are easy. I think they are difficult, painful growing pains that are helping us become the nation we need to be. So really good news.
Last night was the first real snowfall of the year. Although there was no school to cancel, it still feels like the first real snow day.
There are so many things unique and important I have learned the hard way about making a snow day successful – at least what I consider successful.
First of all, I try to always offer the snow plow guys that come some coffee or pancakes (see below). I don’t know for sure that they plow a little more for me, but I am pretty sure they do, and I think it models great hakarat hatov for the kids.
I took out the snow gear Thanksgiving weekend when I had a few hours to really work. Sorting what fits, getting out 7 (!) pairs of boots, gloves, etc. The pool gear bins in the coat closet became the hat bin and the glove bin. The odd gloves didn’t get thrown away, but are in a separate bag. That way when one is lost, and a child is desperate, out comes a mismatched glove to save the day.
Three years ago I went on-line and bought a wholesale package of kids’ waterproof gloves. There were 50 pair in the pack, all the same, with a variety of detail colors. Kind of like this listing: http://www.rhinomart.com/asst-water-prove-ski-glove-wholesale-item-249-4560/. I realize that 50 pairs may seem extreme, but I wound up paying a lot less (like half) per pair. I have a lot of kids who not only wear a lot of gloves but LOSE a lot of gloves. I have now had 3 years in a row with enough gloves, as we have slowly used them up. We have had enough when kids soak theirs and want a second (or third pair.) We have enough for stray kids that end up at our house and need extra gloves. And no getting upset when someone comes home without the ones they left with.
It was a great investment. Most of my kids are outgrowing them as we speak, and I will probably get a case of the next size up. The smartest will be to make do until February or March and buy them for next year, when they are really, really cheap.
Snow pants; they fit more sizes then the labels say, so I always keep them around despite the sizes listed until the winter comes and we can try them on. My size 8/10 boys are wearing size 6/7 snow pants. Again. I will buy at the end of the winter when they are on clearance for next year. Or wait until I get hand me downs, as I am often blessed to get.
My kids have come to know that I will make a bigger, homemade and hearty breakfast on a snow day. I have learned that if they go out with a filling warm breakfast in their tummy they will stay out longer. And complain less. Our favorite is healthy whole wheat, no sugar, no oil pancakes. Sounds awful I know. They are delicious. I use apple sauce; it is a modified version of a recipe on the Mott’s apple sauce jar. I will post the recipe today as well if I am given enough time. I use a lot of blueberries (frozen; I stock up when they are on sale,) and I give the kids cinnamon and sugar. I have to remember to write a separate cinnamon & sugar post, too.
Next; when kids come in from the snow, they are STARVING. I have learned to use this to my advantage. Although I will make hot cocoa, I usually have some fresh steamed veggies waiting on the table when they first get in. Or worse – leftovers! Once they devour whatever happens to be in front of them, I move on to what they may actually want to eat. Amazing.
Movies. Almost always a staple on snow day – but it really has to be its own post as well. So much to say….
Drying wet stuff; I try to have two of everything. I have hooks in the front hall, and I take the usually messy mix and get it out of there so the wet stuff can go there right away. Same for the shoe rack, which happens to be over a heating vent. It means the coats and hats are a big mess until the whole thing is over. The house is always a mess for snow day anyway. I have come to accept it is part of the fun.
I don’t like to go out and play in the snow. I love the excuse to not leave the house. I don’t like the cold. I have lived in CT, Boston, and Montreal (!), and I have had my fill of the cold and the snow. Unless there happen to be skis on my feet.
So one of my favorite things about having so many children is that they have lots of people to play with out in the snow and I don’t have to be one of them.
When I was starting this journey with my children, I used to be stunned at just how long a snow day seems to last. Today has been very long already; it is 11 am, and my children have gotten up, made and devoured a messy breakfast. Gone out in the snow, come back in, made snow slush, built a fort, and started two messy craft projects.
Expecting the day to stretch out and be amazingly long has been really helpful. I have come to just watch them and really, really enjoy the snow days. Enjoy them enjoying them. Enjoy the slower pace. Enjoy the mess. Allowing the peace of the snow to make it a peaceful – fun, messy, chaotic, long and tiring – but peaceful day.
Last week our local library invited Yosi, a childrens’ performer, to give a Chanukah concert. We don’t live in a large Jewish community, and the greater community does very little to acknowledge Jewish holidays. I was thrilled.
But Yosi got sick, and the event was cancelled. I called the library and offered to “fill in” and run a Chanukah Musical Party (as opposed to a concert) this week instead. After all, I reasoned, it is actually Chanukah this week. The children will have something instead of nothing, however lame it may be. It will be great marketing for my Jewish Mommy and Me program. And who knows? Maybe one more Jewish family will leave wanting to know more about their Judaism. …
I didn’t think it through, and I didn’t consider at the time how much I was setting myself up to flop, fail; embarrass me and my family.
The local outreach Rabbi was so pleased that I “think on my feet”, and jumped into the void quickly enough for it to work out. The library is thrilled! My kids are excited (the almost 10 year old is embarrassed in anticipation, I think).
I learned the word impetuous at a very early age from my father – about me. I have made very quick decisions much larger than whether or not to perform without an instrument or musicians – or a clue – in a small local library before.
After 18 months of college searching, 8 applications, etc, I decided to blow it all off, “defer” and go to Israel for the year. It was one of the best, and most pivotal decisions of my life.
I dated my husband for 8 months. Some considered that very short; for me it was far longer than I felt was necessary.
I suppose that some enjoy the comfort of safety. This isn’t a feeling I can relate to very much. It isn’t learned, it is an innate personality trait that I enjoy taking risks, knowing that I will sometimes fail. Unfortunately, this doesn’t come with an innate ability to deal with said failure.
The dictionary uses the term “rash” to somehow differentiate between impetuous and hasty. So are my decisions rash? Or just “thinking on my feet”?
Perhaps the only way to know is with that wonderful clarifier hindsight.
My first singing teacher taught me the trite phrase “life isn’t a dress rehearsal”. It resonated with me. I think more often than not I have been happy with the hasty decisions I have made.
I hope today’s performance is one of them. I have already expended a lot of energy with thoughts of “what was I thinking”.
I recently posted on facebook the following: “Nobody warned me that being a drama queen was an inheritable trait.”
One of the children that prompted that statement (I have at least a few drama kings and queens) twisted his ankle on a jungle gym at school. It would appear that he either will never walk again, or has to be rushed to an emergency room (maybe several) and clearly cannot help himself to anything, unless he wants it, and then hopping seems to work just fine. It isn’t broken.
I thought I would make a brilliant move and borrow crutches. Everyone knows that crutches are tiring, and hurt, and really aren’t much fun. In fact, the person we borrowed them from, who had suffered a more significant injury, stopped using them after day one or two, because they were such a “pain”.
So, instead of telling said child that they are full of baloney, and to stop whining and start moving, I got the crutches. Sure that this would result in a miraculous recovery, and a return to our relative state of sanity.
I got it wrong. He LOVES the crutches… and still is maintaining that he may just never walk again. He told me excitedly how the whole school was talking to and about him. There are many people in this house who apparently have yet to grow tired of fetching everything for him.
Do I let it play itself out? Do I drag him (and that means the baby ) to the dr. so a trained professional can tell him he is fine?
For now, I plan to take the approach my dear husband and I adopt the most:
“This too shall pass….”
David Morris in Beit Shemesh, Israel, writes a blog “tzedek-tzedek” in which he discusses social problems affecting Israeli society, most particularly the religious community. His is one of the few blogs that I read. Not because it is light and happy, but because he sheds light where very, very few are willing to do so, and does it skillfully and with class.
In his posting http://tzedek-tzedek.blogspot.com/2009/11/will-motti-borgers-suicide-make-any.html, he discusses the recent suicide of a religious man who had been a victim of child sexual abuse. It is a somber wake up call.
But for me, it is also yet another disturbing reminder that I have access in person and on line to Torah classes on every imaginable subject. Yet there doesn’t seem to be ANY guidebook on how to speak to religious children about pedophilia.
Why should it be any different for someone who is Orthodox than for anyone else? Well, I would imagine it isn’t easy for any parent, and that there is a dirth of good information out there period.
But we do have some additional challenges. My children have very successfully internalized the concept of avoiding lashon hara – hateful speech. This means that they really are loathe to speak ill of someone else. EVEN WHEN IT IS TRUE. This is an obvious obstacle.
They also are taught to respect their elders, their authority figures, and adults in the community in general. So, if G-d forbid a trusted adult should do something that violates them in any way, I fear that they will believe what they are told by such a person, “respecting them” and buying the lies that pedophiles are known for telling.
So… that brings me back to my point. What works? I have tried so far to relate this subject to other examples of “mitigating circumstances” and the “exceptions to every rule” that exist in Judaism. There are times when we MUST say lashon hara. There are times when we should NOT respect an adult – no matter what. This is very confusing and difficult for my yeshiva trained children. So, I think that one part of the puzzle is to repeat myself, and to remember that this topic, as uncomfortable as it is, cannot be raised once and then forgotten.
However, I read David Morris’ blog (I hope you will too,) and I am therefore reminded to raise the topic from time to time. I have already mentioned how little this topic seems to be raised in the frum world, so I wonder how easy it is out there to forget?
I would very much welcome any suggestions from my readers on things to say – and not say – on the subject.
Something I wish none of us needed any expertise in….
While I should be doing lots of things other than blogging at the moment, I will use my son’s still frequent nursing as my rationale, and post a quick message. (Yes, I type and nurse at the same time. Sorry if that provides an unpleasant image to some readers. )
My sons ask me annually why certain religious jews do not celebrate Thanksgiving. I don’t have any great answers for them, which is probably why it is an annual inquiry.
This year my answer, in earnest, is that the Jewish people are blessed to celebrate Thanksgiving every day. I see my friends on facebook pausing to reflect on their blessing from Hashem. Which is great. But I also know that this is my obligation according to Halacha every single day. I am grateful that the United States is the kind of country that encourages everyone else to be conscious of our “brachot hashachar” for one day, and gives everyone a long weekend to feel grateful in the company of family and friends.
Prior to my (first) aliyah, I did not take Thanksgiving very seriously. I scoffed at most things American, and took a lot for granted. The truth is, I took almost everything in my life for granted. I was in my early twenties….
When I met my husband in Israel, I remember his rebuke that I should be happy and grateful to have Thanksgiving, to be an American, and to be blessed with a life of the freedoms that growing up in America afforded to me. Even as an expatriot, he pointed out to me how blessed as olim in Israel we were to have come from an American upbringing.
Since that year, I have come to appreciate Thanksgiving (and the freedoms in the United States) more and more. If we could bring the best (and only the best) of what America is built upon to Israel, the country would be much better for it.
I think that the foundation of Thanksgiving, or gratitude, is humility. As is most of Judaism. Knowing that everything we have, we do, and we struggle with are all gifts from our creator to help us learn, grow and improve can only lead to tremendous gratitude.
I hope that you are having a wonderful day of Thanksgiving and gratitude wherever you are, and that you are reading this after the holiday because you are too busy enjoying your blessings to read today.
