Grit: Recalling the Possibility of a Snowy Sukkot

Ten years ago when living in the Midwest we had an early snow that fell between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur!  Many of us wondered what it would be like to have a snowy Sukkot or to put up a sukkah in the snow.  (Imagine singing “I’m dreaming of a white Sukkos”)

That particular Sukkot comes to mind now after the JCHS (Jewish Community High School of the Bay) professional community and board spent the summer reading Paul Tough's "How Children Succeed."  

Tough refers to research by Angela Duckworth into “grit,” which is the dedication and perseverance in pursuit of a goal with hopeful expectation the goal will be accomplished. When Duckworth was a math teacher, she puzzled over why the most accomplished students in her classes often were not necessarily those with the highest IQs.  To explain this she developed the theory of “grit.”  

Duckworth tested whether “grit” accounted for this with brief  self-assessment. Her “grit” test became so effective she could more accurately predict, for example, which West Point cadets would successfully survive its famed “beast barracks” than all the sophisticated assessments routinely used by West Point. Grit was a better predictor than intelligence, physical ability, or leadership acumen. Paul Tough uses Duckworth and others to describe the positive impact of resilience and developing the capacity to overcome adversity.

Tough and Duckworth are often asked whether “grit” can be taught.  Is it innate and formed at birth? Or can parents, teachers, and others help someone develop “grit”?

Anyone who has ever built a sukkah knows the answer to that question!  Or entered a sukkah in the snow (or rain or bitter cold or sweltering heat).  Yes, “grit” can be taught.  In fact, a fundamental lesson of Judaism is that “grit” -- hopeful perseverance, determination in the face of obstacles -- can be conditioned and learned.

During Sukkot we remove ourselves momentarily from the material security of solid, comfortable structures to temporarily eat (and even sleep) in flimsy huts open to the sky.  For one week we move beyond our comfort zones into unpredictable and challenging places.  

Year after year, after the emotional and spiritual challenges of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur we head outside to confront our perseverance and our hopeful determination to overcome obstacles. Through the genius of Sukkot, we teach our children to keep going even when that is tough, to hunker down, and to ride out a storm.  Sukkot conditions us for the year ahead -- a year filled with unpredictable, challenging obstacles and profound moments that will test our hope.  Sukkot is the start-of-the-year crucible that forges “grit.” 

By making ourselves vulnerable during Sukkot, we are urged to appreciate the power of the natural world and to become sensitive to the needs of those who lack adequate shelter, food, or security.  We are urged to count our authentic blessings of strength and security in a fragile, unpredictable world.  

May this Sukkot bring for you and your family wisdom to appreciate all that keeps us safe and strength to grow through that which makes us feel insecure.

The Cages We Keep (Yom Kippur 5774)

In his beautiful Yom Kippur Meditation, “Letters to the Next Generation,” Rabbi Jonathan Sacks writes, “The single most important lesson of Yom Kippur is that it’s never too late to change, start again, and live differently from the way we’ve done in the past.” (Link to Rabbi Sacks' Reflections)

During this week between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur I experience deeply the passage from on the one hand feeling ourselves imprisoned by our past conduct and on the other hand feeling ourselves soon-to-be liberated by forgiveness.

In this space between being encaged by our fixed and flawed conduct of last year and the boundless opportunities for growth and change in the year just begun, the infamous story of a special tiger named Mohini comes to mind.

Mohini was the rare, white tiger given to President Eisenhower and the children of America as a gift in December 1960. When she was delivered to the National Zoo in Washington she spent most of her days pacing back and forth in a 12 by 12 foot cage. Mohini walked her cage every day around and around in the same pattern.

Her unique and majestic appearance drew lots of new visitors to the zoo. This enabled the zoo to build Mohini a habitat instead of a cage -- much larger, natural and lush giving her space to roam and wander.

Eyes and Ears and Mouth (Rosh Hashanah 5774)

There is a curious pattern emerging in the Torah narratives we read on either side of Rosh Hashanah about eyes and ears and mouths.  

From "The School of Raphael"

Two weeks ago parshat Ki Tavo told us that not until that day -- as Moses formalized our community’s transition from reliance on him to reliance on each other for our spiritual and religious lives -- not until that very day did they have “eyes to see and ears to hear.” (Deuteronomy 29:3) A week ago parshat Nitzavim told us Torah is “as close as our mouths.” (Deuteronomy 30:14) Next comes Rosh Hashanah, literally the “head” of the year.  Followed immediately in Torah by parshat Ha’azinu or literally “giving ear” or listening. (Deuteronomy 32:1)  

Our eyes, ears, and mouths are all highlighted by Torah at this season that is the “head” of the year. All of which calls to mind a story about an ancient, ailing king of Persia.  (One 15th century version of this story is found in Yalkut Shimoni).  

The king’s doctors tell him he can be cured only by the milk of a lioness.  But no one in the kingdom is brave enough to walk up to a lion and take milk from her cubs.  Then one brave hunter comes forward volunteering, “Your highness, I will get the milk you need. your highness.”