Leaving Freedom Behind

At the end of last February, I started a post that I called, "Taking Freedom to Task." It began as follows:
"One of my favorite books that I never finished reading was Erich Fromm's Escape from Freedom. Fromm attempts to explain why Totalitarianism was so popular at the beginning of the last century. He argues that the breakdown of the caste system left people feeling aimless and without meaning in their lives. The structure that predetermined lives with few decisions provided was replaced with loneliness and freedom in excess."
That's all I got to, back in February. This book had a huge impact on me, and it explained to me why the Torah is a huge blessing to people, and how somehow, being subjugated to something greater than oneself is liberating. I didn't understand how far reaching these lessons were, however, until more recently.

Having started teaching, I've been in a kind of "Freedom Laboratory." Before the school year began, I read a delicious book called, "How to Teach so Kids Can Learn." The book emphasises giving information and stating expectations so that students will come to make good decisions on their own. I implemented much of what the book told me, and while I was getting feedback from parents and students that I was well liked (which was hardly my agenda-- at least consciously), I discovered on a recent test that I gave that the students are aching for the bondage of rules and detentions. They feel like I give them too much freedom. The principal has echoed the sentiment. I need to be the queen in my classroom, and rule over the students with a strong hand.

The structure the kids are craving was surprising to me at first. I couldn't understand why kids would want to fight against me, when I am just concerned for their well being that I want to help them learn. But the truth is that, put in their place, I probably would have done the same thing, back then. Too many choices for kids who aren't used to making decisions like, "what am I going to have for dinner?" is overwhelming, and intimidating. The kids don't say so, at first. They rebel, and rejoice in their newly-found freedom. But they end up feeling that the classroom is too chaotic, and they long for structure.

Last week we read Parshat Noach in Shul, and I would like to invite everyone who struggles along with me to take this opportunity to move from the destruction of the mabul (flood) back into a recreation of structure, which will nurture an environment for growth and opportunities. It is the tohu vavohu (some kind of cosmic, primeval mess) of water (which is fluid and without boundaries) that needs to be divided and distinguished from land that makes the vast and beautiful ocean. Without that, there is no room for life. Only chaos.

If anyone has thoughts, comments, similar experiences or any other insights, please share it with us.