Kankan

A female, American, Modern-Orthodox Jewish Humanist's thoughts on the world.

Saturday, July 28, 2007

Controlling Discipline

This morning, someone asked me to present a discussion at the shul in Bradley Beach, NJ today. I agreed, and quickly chose a topic that's been on my mind for a while: reward and punishment. I figured, since in next week's parsha, the source for the second paragraph of the Shema appears, reward and punishment is a timely subject.

My initial thought was, "This should be simple-- just talk about the parsha, some stuff about the Gemaras re. punishment, and then talk about how discipline makes its way into education and parenting." I let that sit, and then the next day, when i started addressing the issues more directly, and trying to construct a talk, things started becoming more complicated.

"The religious coercion that went on in the Bible began to wane already with the Talmudic effort to make executions virtually impossible"-- no, that's too controversial. "The model that the Bible establishes is no longer viable, both because we don't have religious coercion, and because it's a free world, in general-- people will do what they want. Many people are terrified of the prospect of Chareidim in power in Israel because of what religious coercion would mean." No-- this is getting way too controversial. Ok, I thought, so what am I going to say? "The model that the Torah establishes is all about a power struggle between G-d and man. G-d has the power, and so he can make demands on man." Not only does that sound awful, but I feel like I'm giving a feminist critique of the Bible!

Ok, when I turned to my Mom at the end of Mincha, and I said to her, "so Mom, what should I say tonight?" I honestly didn't know what I could say. I felt like it was the top of a curve-- that the simplicity of the initial planning was past, but would return-- and with greater depth. I felt all the complexity becoming way too overwhelming for me, let alone to present in this public forum with all these people.

I went down, and my mind blanked out while I ate challah and talked to my 12 year old brother. When I got up to speak, I felt the presence of a supportive community made up of people who are all on a journey-- all looking for a good, reasonable way to lead their lives. I felt an honesty to the group that I didn't feel in myself.

I didn't end up including much that was controversial. I did present the G-d/man dynamic in the Parsha as a power difference, but I left it at that. G-d is in control of nature, and he can punish us. So he says, that if we will keep his mitzvas, he will manipulate nature to our advantage, and if we don't listen, we will be punished by the nature that he will lash out against us. I then mentioned briefly that religious punishment does extend to the Jewish courts, in particular circumstances, with the Sanhedrin. I then brought it down to real life. Practically speaking, the parent/child relationship is a kind of microcosm of what the G-d/man relationship is. Mommy and Daddy have the power, and so they can make demands and enforce as they wish, since they have that power. How can we show our children that they ought to do what we think is better for them, for their sake? What kinds of rewards and punishments might we dole out? Finally, I'm reading a book called, "How to Talk so Your Kids will Listen and Listen so Your Kids will Talk," where the author asks, What message does it send our kids when we punish them? And how will they model this behavior as adults? Unfortunately, when a child is treated with abuse by a parent, they will often times become abusive themselves-- that is true for all kinds of parenting skills. So I opened the floor up to the audience...

The discussion ensued. One man brought up a piece of business advice, where they recommend that employers sugar coat criticism with positive comments. Another man noted that as a parent, he feels it is imperative that people's pride not get in the way, and that they recognize that the punishment isn't a way to get back at the child. Instead, he suggested that people focus on seeing the result as a natural consequence to the child's actions. A woman stood up and said that she thought it was more important to set out clear guidelines, like the Jews have-- that we agreed to a contract, and when we violate it, we're held accountable. That children ought to know what is expected of them, and then when they don't live up to that, to see that they are punished. That way, everything is fair. A man stood up and said, "When I was young, my parents didn't praise us for doing well in school- it was expected! When we didn't perform, we were talked to, but otherwise, they didn't praise us for doing well-- of course we should do well! This is the tradition, and it works." Another, younger man, said that positive reinforcement is always better received, and should be utilized whenever possible. But of course, every child is different.

At the end of the talk, I felt comforted by the discussion. I felt that we're all in this, and that we're all going through the same issues. No one has THE right answer, but that we're all trying to get at something that works for us. I felt safer moving forward. I also liked that quite a few people came up to me afterwards to tell me anecdotes and pieces of advice for this coming year, when I will be teaching.

Please feel free to share any of your own experiences with reward and punishment in school and at home, and what it did to you, and to share any lessons you've learned along the way, or thoughts you might have on the subject.

Wednesday, July 11, 2007

Growing-Up Blues

There's an Alanis Morrisette song that expresses well what I've been thinking about. It's called Precious Illusions. (http://youtube.com/watch?v=d8ak0MyE76M)

you'll rescue me right? in the exact same way they never did..
I'll be happy right? when your healing powers kick in
you'll complete me right? then my life can finally begin
I'll be worthy right? only when you realize the gem I am?

but this won't work now the way it once did
and I won't keep it up even though I would love to
once I know who I'm not then I'll know who I am
but I know I won't keep on playing the victim

these precious illusions in my head
did not let me down when I was defenseless
and parting with them is like parting with invisible best friends

this ring will me yet as will you knight in shining armor
this pill will help me yet as will these boys gone through like water

but this won't work as well as the way it once did
cuz I want to decide between survival and bliss
and though I know who I'm not I still don't know who I am
but I know I won't keep on playing the victim

these precious illusions in my head
did not let me down when I was a kid
and parting with them is like parting with a childhood best friend

I've spent so long firmly looking outside me
I've spent so much time living in survival mode

These lyrics are from http://www.lyrics007.com/

Today I was sitting in a graduate school class about Rashi. For background on Rashi, see http://www.jewishvirtuallibrary.org/jsource/biography/rashi.html
As many people who grew up studying in Yeshiva day schools, high schools and seminaries, I have the conception that Rashi is an important and fundamental exegete. In the coming year I will be teaching many Rashis, and I hope to show my students a greatness to the commentary that Rashi brings us. I also feel a special affinity to Rashi becasue Nechama Leibowitz, who has always been a hero of mine, spent much of her life teaching Rashi's wisdom and insight into the text.

With that background, I was sitting in class today, and the Professor was demonstrating that Rashi will sometimes bring different, contradictory midrashim (homiletical exegesis of the bible) in different parts of the Chumash, and think nothing of it. For instance, Rashi will mention in one place that Yitro (Jethro), Moshe's father in law, has seven different names. rashi did not make this up, it is found in a midrash. He does, however, mention elsewhere that Yitro has only two names. This too, appears in a midrash. In the different midrashim, this is not a problem, because the Rabbis who authored the midrashim sometimes differed from one another. However, Rashi was one man, and so one would expect that he would string a consistent position on such matters throughout the Five Books of Moses.

Many have spent lifetimes explaining and getting to the bottom of what was Rashi's intention in leaving such contradictions in his commentary. Nechama Leibowitz, as I mentioned earlier, was one such scholar. She followed in the footsteps of hundreds of illustrious thinkers who authored many super-commentaries on Rashi's work. The common feature in all these people was the regard they gave to Rashi, based on the assumption that Rashi was sensitive to the language of the text and cognizant of his own words as well. The commentaries on Rashi will attribute deep meaning while resolving a difficulty from Rashi's words.

The brilliant deduction made by my professor today was the following: Rashi tends to quote midrashim that were written for a given book in that book.

What a let down. To me, such mundane answers make the questions not worth asking. I suppose this is all part of my own romantic sentiments about Rashi, but I'm not ashamed of those feelings. I don't see any good reason to study something as intensely as scholars do if all I will walk away with is an answer like "in Shemot, Rashi brings down from the Mechilta (a midrash on Shemot), and in Bamidbar, he brings down the midrash from Sifrei (a midrash on Bamidbar and Devarim)." I've learned nothing in the exchange, and would have spent my time doing something more productive.

The disappointment that I experience here captures a theme that's been repeating itself in various parts of my life. I've found that growing up is full of disappointments to the Romantic. I wrote in one of my first blog entries about the historical development from the Romantic to the Modern eras in music, and I accepted the process in that context. However, I feel a nostalgia now, trying to recapture the transcendental energy that Rashi's ingenuity inspires. When Dr. Haym Soloveitchik taught his History of Halakha class in Stern, he spent 40 minutes praising Rashi as art. That sense of Rashi as intentional and meaningful is not at all a part of the picture in much of today's scholarship.

I'm not saying one is true and one is more fun. I'm also not saying that ideas need to be meaningful to be true. However, I do not personally want to invest in something with so much time and energy as someone like Rashi demands, unless there is something enormous to be gained from it. I suppose some academics will study anything, no matter what. I am not one of those people. I crave enthusiasm that comes from impassioned exaltation.

But the world is a big place, and I haven't given up hope yet. As a matter of fact, I think that writing this post has brought me to a place where I can move forward. I was going to ask the readers to please send me words of comfort, but I feel comforted by my own words. Feel free to comment, don't get me wrong. But I have confidence in the artists of the world, and in the romantics. And also, I think that there is a place for people who don't care for romance.