Tuesday, August 27, 2013

When An Apology Gets Stuck on the Tip of Our Tongue (Nitzavim 5773)

Early in the school year last year, a few ninth graders approached me in the hallway to protest some aspect of the school’s dress standards.  I was running late to a meeting upstairs.  I regret it, but I only half-listened.  I did not give their concern the respect it deserved (which is different from agreeing with it).  I failed to give those students the respect they deserved. 
Every few days after that I felt the impulse to apologize to those students.  But then I would get distracted by something.  The apology got stuck on the tip of my tongue.  Then so much time has passed I have forgotten even to which students I needed to apologize.  

Now as I prepare for the new Jewish year of 5774 and am seeking forgiveness for my conduct last year, that particular apology still is stuck on the tip of my tongue.  So at our weekly school community gathering on Monday, I apologized to the entire student body.  

Thursday, August 22, 2013

Listen Look & Learn: The First Day of School (Ki Tavo 5773)

At today's opening Hakhel (weekly gathering of students and the professional community) of the school year I told students that this week’s Torah portion, Ki Tavo, tells us everything we need to know about JCHS (Link to Jewish Community High School of the Bay) -- and in just two verses.  

The two Torah verses:  (a) Deuteronomy 27:9 has Moses instructing his people “Keep quiet and hear, Israel, for on this day you are becoming a unified people . . . “ ; and (b) Deuteronomy 28:29, as part of the “curses” for neglecting the Torah’s lessons, includes the dire warning, “May you grope around at noon, as the blind person gropes in darkness.”  


Nalagaat Theater Company (comprised of deaf and blind performers)  NY Times Review of Nalagaat
From these two verses we learn a lot.  From the fact that the imperative to listen is voiced in the singular, we learn about empowering the individual.  From the listening that transforms solitary individuals into a unified community, we learn about enriching community.  From recognizing that each of us carries a kind of blindness that moves us to seek guidance and support from others, we learn about embracing pluralism.

As to blindness, I recall a few summers ago I was asked as part of a group of volunteers to take a girl, Dana, who was blind, through the Tel Aviv zoo.  I was taught how to walk with her -- with her hand on my elbow so as to offer support without pushing or pulling her.  I concentrated on trying to describe the different colors and shapes I saw to give shape to those images for her.  

When we sat down for lunch Dana took out her mp3 player. She explained she was listening to an audio book.  I asked some questions about the book.  Dana answered, “Quiet.  Listen for yourself.”  She put the headphones over me and pressed the screen.