This issue of Kaleidoscope brings you thoughtful impressions into how Jewish day schools and yeshivas are grappling with meaningful conversations around race and school culture including the support that Prizmah is providing schools, perspectives from school and community leaders engaged in this work, and an honest and thought-provoking first-hand experience. 

The leaders of Jewish day schools have always put themselves at the forefront of social justice issues, teaching the next generation of Jewish children the Hebrew maxim Tzedek, tzedek tirdof—Justice, justice you shall pursue. These conversations are intrinsic to who we are as Jews and a sincere expression of our Jewish values. 

And while our place in the global community dictates that we address racial justice issues in any form, we also recognize that a growing portion of the Jewish population are people of color, and we must do this work for those who are a part of our own communities. Jewish day school alumni themselves are calling on their schools to change how they educate their students regarding race.

This is hard work that requires one to be vulnerable, have difficult conversations and maneuver conflict. It is based on building relationships, one interaction at a time, and realizing that once you open up the floor to discuss race, broader issues of diversity, equity and inclusion are soon in the room. 

Prizmah aims to create the space for schools to reflect on race and the related issues through their own school cultures while providing support and access to expertise as their journey progresses. We are fortunate to have funding partners in Crown Family Philanthropies, the Jim Joseph Foundation and Lippman Kanfer Foundation for Living Torah supporting a scope of work we launched this year through a new Prizmah program, Race and School Culture.

Over the course of five workshops, more than 100 teachers and administrators from 39 schools across the denominational spectrum came together to look at their school cultures, challenge assumptions, learn from experts and affirm a commitment to furthering this work. This synchronous experience helped leaders envision a systematic approach to school culture change. The group was introduced to Nishant Mehta’s Five Ps that comprise school culture change: philosophy, people, program, policies and practice. It was established that articulated values are easier to change than assumed shared values and group behavior norms; the latter are less visible.

The learning allowed participants to focus on where change could take place in their schools. They identified areas to hone in on now, and others that will take more time. Some will look at school policies, and some at broader community engagement; others will create professional learning communities for faculty and staff to work together on an issue identified as important for their school. In some programs, librarians and principals will work with faculty to look at reading lists and new curricular approaches. There is no one approach to this work, and Prizmah’s ongoing support will enable leaders to start at a place that is right for their culture. Regina and Andrea Lulka’s blog, “Taking a Deep Dive to Make the Implicit Explicit,” presents an example of some of the early changes taking place in schools because of this work. 

When asked to reflect on this experience, 100% of the respondents expressed appreciation for being exposed to a new framework, and words such as alignment, transforming, agency and authenticity were prominent. The next step for these schools will be continuing to sensitively integrate their learning and reflections into their day to day work, given their unique communities and school cultures. 

To help facilitate this work, the participating schools will continue their ongoing engagement in two ways. Opportunities for consulting with experts in the field will allow school leaders to talk about key issues for their work, specifically pertaining to the needs of their own school community. Additionally, teams from multiple schools are invited to join collaborative goal-oriented working groups to focus on specific areas of interest such as elementary school curricula, professional development and engaging stakeholders. Each of these groups will be led by an expert facilitator. 

As we move forward with this work, new challenges will surface. Our school communities are representative of many different viewpoints and perspectives, and we see these reflected in how attention to this work is perceived. Within the tight-knit family of a school, difficult conversations are challenging, and this work takes time. 

It is also important to understand that whereas school leaders have a strong desire to “get this right,” much of this journey will be about making mistakes along the way and growing from those opportunities. Our ability to be vulnerable will be a key aspect to allowing space for people to be heard, changes to be considered and colleagues to disagree. We will learn as much from what we get wrong as will from what we see as successes. Embrace them all with the expectation that they will both lead your community to a place of greater strength.

Prizmah is committed to being there with the schools through this messy process as we all work together to make our schools and communities environments that are safe, inclusive and kind. 

Amy Wasser is Prizmah’s senior director of field advancement.

When Moshe came down from Sinai, the Torah tells us, he did not realize that his face was glowing (Exodus 34:29). The radiance frightened Aaron and the Israelites as they greeted Moshe, who ultimately placed a veil over his face, to be removed only when he spoke directly to God. 

The intense experience of Sinai changed Moshe more than he knew and ultimately isolated him from the people. He did not see himself clearly, only the impression and effect he had on those around him. In service to his people, he literally closed off part of himself and changed the way he interacted with the world.

We call Moshe our teacher, Rabbeinu, and perhaps through this example we can learn something about educational leadership. In times of crisis—and no one could argue that the past 15 months have been anything less than a crisis—closing oneself off can mean avoiding one’s own needs. Educators who cannot see and care for themselves will have a harder time caring for students or communities. Instead, now is the time for what I recently heard called “unapologetic self-care.” 

Even before the pandemic struck, Prizmah had begun programming directly with school counselors through a cohort training program in partnership with the Azrieli School at Yeshiva University. Once Covid-19 took hold, through the expansion of this cohort and the growth of Prizmah’s Reshet for guidance counselors, professionals from across diverse schools have had access to near constant collaboration with their peers. 

Success in keeping our communities mentally well is not just the product of the work of counselors, it relies on the commitment and involvement of teachers and all faculty and staff. In addition to increasing what we do for counselors, last summer Prizmah ran intensive trainings for over 100 school administrators. We wanted to help schools prepare to support their students in the difficult year we knew was to come.

The rise of initiatives such as Mental Health First Aid, the Resiliency Roundtable convened by the Jewish Teen Education and Engagement Funder Collaborative, and other efforts to address the social and emotional components of learning have allowed schools to strengthen their services, mostly with a focus on the students. 

We were right to anticipate difficulty on the part of students, and we have learned even more about the impact the pandemic has had on teachers. When Prizmah surveyed 700 educational leaders in February 2021, we discovered that educators were suffering greatly from anxiety and stress. The top three feelings teachers reported feeling in the previous three months were “stressed, overwhelmed, fatigued,” with 62% of teachers reporting that they had experienced trouble relaxing.

We know that teacher burnout leads to poor student performance. Not surprisingly, teachers engaged in hybrid settings, with some students in person and others learning remotely, reported higher levels of stress than those teaching either fully remote or predominantly in-person. When we asked teachers what kinds of support would help them, their responses were telling:

"Understanding of what the teachers are going through”
“Understanding and encouragement to take time for myself”
“More time spent with colleagues.”

Teachers were yearning to be seen.

For decades Jewish day schools and yeshivas have distinguished themselves in building a strong Jewish future, nurturing and transmitting the values and knowledge that produce proud Jews and constructive citizens to the broader world. The commitment to children has attracted significant and generous investment, though it is not actually enough. 

Kicking off Mental Health Awareness month in early May, Prizmah hosted 135 people from 77 schools over a two-day Mental Health Summit, a virtual event that built on the power of collaboration that is at the core of Prizmah’s network. We deliberately framed the event to focus on the adults in our schools. 

“If you want whole children,” offered keynote speaker Dr. David Rosmarin, Assistant Professor at Harvard Medical School and Founder of Center for Anxiety in New York,“we need whole educators.” In the wake of Covid-19, the value of and need for our schools has never been greater, and fulfilling our mission means not only taking care of the needs not only of children, but of their teachers as well. We enable schools to live their values when we care for our teachers with the same love and attention as our children.

Summit attendees also heard from Dr. Oshra Cohen, school psychologist at Ma’ayanot Yeshiva High School for Girls, who adapted some of the language of the 2008 financial crisis and deemed our schools—and their teachers--“too important to fail.” Knowing the essential role day schools and yeshivas play in our collective future, we must do all we can to support the educators who are at the core of making our schools function.

Some of the suggestions we learned at the summit are concrete, what keynote speaker and self-declared Happiness Coach Kim Strobel called “a toolbox of strategies to help people get out of the quicksand quicker.” Putting in place systems that respect individual needs is a start. Compassionate language gives room for honest conversations and grants permission to say no, to think differently, or to step away and take a second look at a challenge. Just as we differentiate our education to the specific needs of our children, we must differentiate the supports needed by our staff teams. 

Covid-19 has made teachers responsible for the social and emotional stability of their students, without really giving them the training to fill that role. Resources should be allocated to allow more time for training and for teachers to balance their classroom (Zoom-room?) duties with reflection and collaboration, as well as their own self-care.

Celebrating Shavuot next week, we mark the transition from being a wandering people to having a roadmap. We ostensibly now know the landmarks and the rules of the road. The path ahead should seem more clear, please God. Like Moshe, though, for many of our teachers the past 15 months have changed them and compelled them to cloak their own needs for connection and support. As we reimagine the drama of Sinai this coming holiday, let us work to make our school communities places where educators can see and be themselves, as radiant and transformed as they may be.

“Flow is that elusive state of absorption in a meaningful challenge or a momentary bond, where your sense of time, place and self melts away. During the early days of the pandemic, the best predictor of well-being wasn’t optimism or mindfulness—it was flow. People who became more immersed in their projects managed to avoid languishing and maintained their prepandemic happiness. … We now know that the most important factor in daily joy and motivation is a sense of progress.” -Adam Grant

Like many who read Adam Grant’s article on languishing in the New York Times (“There’s a Name for the Blah You’re Feeling: It’s Called Languishing”), I completely related to his message. Time has felt so open-ended in the past year, none of us knowing when the pandemic will “end” and if such a thing is even possible.

This stands in contrast to Sefirat HaOmer, the counting of the 49 days between Passover and Shavuot. When we start counting on the night of the second seder, we know exactly when our counting will end. We even have days like today, Lag BaOmer, when the counting cycle gives us a mini-holiday--a small reprieve from the semi-mourning state that defines the rest of the Omer period.

When we count the Omer each night, traditionally we call out not only the exact number of days—“Today is the 33rd day of the Omer” —but also the weeks—“which is four weeks and five days.” We count in two ways, a rabbinic compromise to fulfill both mitzvot described in Leviticus 23:15-16: first to count seven weeks, then to count 50 days. It is almost as if we just can’t count enough!

Counting time gives us that motivating sense of progress; just ask any child who counts down the days until a birthday or perhaps even until the last day of school (gasp!). When we count “down” we increase our excitement and anticipation daily. Is this different from counting “up,” as we do with the Omer?

Perhaps the message of today’s festivities, bonfires, bows and arrows and all, is to keep track of our progress. It is helpful to mark our transitions, not only because of where they point to on a “finish line,” but also due to the positive impact that counting has on our own sense of joy and motivation. In that spirit, and especially during this time when we all yearn for an “end date” for the challenges of Covid-19, I want to wish you a very happy Lag BaOmer. May your counting bring you a sense of peace and progress.

By Chani Rotenberg

News coverage of the American government today can be quite disheartening. How can we develop thoughtful public policy within the intense polarization, legislative gridlock and lack of trust that infects our political system? And how can we teach the next generation of leaders that they can be agents of change within this system? 

At Ma’ayanot Yeshiva High School for Girls, our US Government curriculum is built to develop civic literacy and to prepare students to become knowledgeable, thoughtful, open-minded and active citizens. Given the state of politics, particularly following the 2020 election, I wanted to develop a project-based unit that would give students the opportunity to research issues of interest and to tackle these problems, in a bipartisan manner. The unit had four goals for students: to research public policy issues from a variety of perspectives; to develop skills in constructive dialogue; to use the dialogue skills when discussing areas of disagreement, and to come to some area of consensus, even if small. And through this project, I hoped students would learn about members of Congress and the legislative process. 

Feeling daunted but motivated, I reached out to the education team at Civic Spirit for guidance, brainstorming sessions, and resources. With their support, I developed The Congress Project for my two 12th-grade Government classes. 

To begin, the students assumed the personas of current US senators, selected based on topic of interest. Students worked in groups that included members of the other party with the intention of developing policy solutions to these pressing civic issues. Topics included criminal justice, LGBTQ rights, racial inequality, college affordability and regulation of technology. 

In order to prepare for their working groups, each student researched her senator’s background and values, creating identity maps to better understand the unique policy views. When meeting with “fellow senators,” the students used these maps, constructive listening practices, and dialogue questions to exchange information. Senators worked through disagreements (and there were certainly disagreements) to find some common ground on shared values. At the conclusion of The Congress Project, students presented proposals to the class and reflected on the process. 

As with any new project, there were obstacles along the way. A few topics were too broad, and students struggled to narrow their focus. The research phase took longer than anticipated, and some senators had less of a social media presence, making them difficult to follow and study; I plan to revise the assignment next year to address these barriers and enhance the project. 

More importantly, however, I also observed students listen constructively, debate respectfully, and work as a team. Getting personal and thinking about an issue from the perspective of a legislator—a real person!—seemed the best way for students to understand both the complexity of policy reform and the opportunity for bipartisanship. 

One student’s reflection captured this process beautifully: 

“It was incredibly difficult to research an area within our topic that our senators could somewhat agree on. However, after researching and throwing out a lot of suggestions, it felt very rewarding to come to a compromise. The part of the project I enjoyed the most was researching the individual values that are important to my senator. I think it is way too easy for people to say negative things about senators or other politicians because of how much they disagree with that politician, but this reminded me that the senators have the same values as we do. And, despite thinking of them as powerful leaders, they are just people as well. I think that realization was what made it easy for our senators to come to an agreement. When you set aside everything that senators disagree on, you find that they really do want the same things.” 

My goal was to have students learn about the legislative process, and develop the skills necessary to become engaged citizens. While witnessing the students’ thoughtfulness and seriousness of their approach, I discovered a valuable lesson in democratic action: It’s personal.

Chani Rotenberg is the history department chair and co-director of humanities enrichment at Ma'ayanot Yeshiva in Teaneck, New Jersey. She is a member of Civic Spirit’s Educators Cohort 2.

By Paul Bernstein
Prizmah's CEO

The transition from Yom HaZikaron to Yom HaAtzma’ut is the ultimate mood swing. In an instant, we move from mourning those whose lives were lost establishing and sustaining the State of Israel to joyfully celebrating Israel in all its complexities.

This year, for many of us, mood swings are a regular occurrence. Each day we experience so many different emotions, on both the “micro” level of our own homes and families and the “macro” level of our school, community and society as a whole. As we begin to look towards what might follow the current lockdown, what kind of future are we imagining? How can we make the transition from isolation to a future “new” normal? Perhaps the model of Israel’s commemorative days offers some perspective.

In the past decade, Beit Tefila Yisraeli created a special Havdalah to mark the jarring transition between Yom HaZikaron and Yom HaAtzma’ut. Their ceremony frames the paradox of this moment:

As the sun sets, the national pathos shifts from sorrow to joy in a matter of moments. This stark transition captures the intensity of modern Israeli life; however, many Israelis feel alienated by the official commemorations that emphasize nationalism or religion. With war an unfortunately common occurrence and memories of lost friends and family abound, Beit Tefilah Israeli recognized a number of years ago the need for a sensitive ceremony that celebrates Israel’s national triumph, yet expresses the sorrow for a dream of peace, still unfulfilled.

The ceremony weaves together songs, poems, Biblical quotes, traditional prayers and even Israeli author David Grossman’s eulogy for his son, who fell in combat in 2006. At the center of the service is a modern Havdalah prayer, marking the separation between the holy sorrow of Yom HaZikaron and the holy joy of Yom HaAtzma’ut.

One of the primary innovations is a blessing created as part of the ceremony, which blesses G-d, in these terms:

Asher yatzar et ha-adam bechochmah, uvara vo yagon va-anachah, ve-sasson ve’simchah.
Who has created human beings with wisdom and endowed them with suffering and pain, joy and gladness.

This blessing incorporates the idea that as humans we are created with the capacity for suffering and pain, as well as joy and gladness. The blessing is the ability to transition between these two poles of emotion. Perhaps it is this blessing that can help us during our own days of dramatic change.

Commemorating Yom HaZikaron and celebrating Yom HaAtzma'ut sequentially offers us the chance to replicate both historic and contemporary shifts in human experience. May our transitions to joy be peaceful, may our plans for a brighter future build on the challenges we have overcome and what we have learned about how connected we can all be in spite of distance. And, of course, may those who are ill be soon healed and may those who heal and those who tend to human needs find strength every day.

A year ago, none of us dreamed that we’d be back having the same conversations again one year later. How can we do this season of Yom Hashoah, Yom Hazikaron and Yom Haatzmaut in our day schools as well as we always do, when we are distant/ separated/ hybrid and more? But this year, our educators have done the amazing and extraordinary: day schools have designed, developed, created, built and imagined ways to foster and deepen connections to Israel, a key value for so many schools, even, despite, and perhaps because of, the pandemic.

Museums in Israel have opened their doors for “virtual visiting,” inviting students and teachers to explore, connect and learn. In fact, many schools have taken this a step or two further and created their own virtual museums and experiences, with students and sometimes parents being the curators and even the docents. From exploring the meaning and history of street names to designing virtual tours of unexpected places, schools have found ways to understand Israel, leveraging technology and their own graduates who are now there. Schools have tapped olim, IDF soldiers or faculty who were were shlichim, benot sherut, or shinshinim, building upon relationships and connections already in place. 

Recreating the shuk has always been a great activity, but going even further, some schools have designed entire city projects, where students study a city, and create places (that honor Covid rules, of course) where there are experiences and opportunities to “meet and greet” the people who live there, from famous leaders and pop stars, to everyday people. 

In the arts department, many schools are focusing on Israeli songs, creating lip dubs, lip syncs and even Tik Tok videos to engage families of all ages. Some schools taught classic Israeli line dances so the school could still dance while being 6 feet apart. Other schools have decided to explore the traditions and music of the global Jewish communities in Israel by learning famous lines in tefillah (prayer) and how different synagogues sing/ chant/ say this verse.

One activity that schools have designed enabling students to understand and relate to critical moments in Israeli history is called WWYD: What would you do? Cases allow students to consider what they would do in given circumstances. Role playing and discussions around famous dilemmas, from Ben Gurion’s decisions with the Irgun to modern day elections, enable students to consider many points of view and opinions, weigh factors that might be important to include and consider reasons behind a decision.

Even as the Yom HaZikaron and Yom Haatzma’ut programs are taking place in Israel, many schools livestream these inspiring events. Programs about the torchlighters, examining this year's honorees and what they represent in Israeli society, are popular.

Schools are producing make-your-own bingo games with Hebrew words and images, Israeli-themed Chopped (food) games, community car parades, escape rooms, scavenger hunts, hiking, archeological “digs,” farming extravaganzas, STEM programs about the Dead Sea and so much more. From podcasts, Kahoots and international quiz shows like Chidon Hatanach and Israel Unpacked, our schools have brought Israel alive this 73rd birthday.

Here is how Jack M. Barrack Hebrew Academy in Bryn Mawr, Pennsylvania, has adjusted to teaching about Israel during Covid:

1. Israel studies teachers in the Jewish studies department are making more room for current events discussions.

2. 12th graders have had or will have five sessions of Israeli current events with one of their teachers from Alexander Muss, Danny Stein, who is an Akiba/Barrack alumnus.

3. Danny is also doing three current events sessions with our 11th graders, including one on the Abraham Accords and one on the most recent elections.

4. Our 10th grade Jewish studies unit on moral dilemmas in Israel is being enhanced by three double period length sessions, one in March, one in April and one in May with experts from the Center for Israel Education (Diversity in Politics, Changing Borders, Pop Culture, Identity and Politics).

5. Our 9th graders will have their regular unit on Israel as part of 9th grade history in the spring trimester.

6. Our 8th grade had two Stand with Us livetours (virtual city tours) with Yoni Zierler, one in Mishekenot Sha'ananim and one in the Jewish Quarter, in addition to their trimester unit on the history of Zionism and the establishment of the State.

7. Our 7th grade has been building a partnership with their peers at the Da'at School at Kibbutz Sa'ad in Sdot Negev, part of Philadelphia's partnership region (Jewish Agency’s Partnership2Gether program). There has been an asynchronous exchange of information, and we just had our first virtual synchronous meeting with half the grade, and the other half will meet next week.

8. Our 7th grade also met with people from Ofanim, a STEM education program that serves Israeli students of all backgrounds throughout peripheral regions, as part of a curricular unit on tzedakah.

9. In December we had an upper school assembly with Israeli educator and fashion advocate Liri Cohen about Israeli fashion resilience.

10. We will be marking Yom HaZikaron with special assemblies and Yom HaAtzma’ut with a virtual torch ceremony, a special lunch, field day activities and special sessions with Hebrew teachers on Israeli culture.

By Dr. Lesley Litman

“Teaching, like any truly human activity, emerges from one’s inwardness, for better or worse. As I teach, I project the condition of my soul onto my students, my subject, and our way of being together.”

Parker Palmer, The Courage to Teach

Compared to the Hebrew language, the English language has exponentially more words. Yet, with it’s much smaller canon, Hebrew presents us with a worldview of which few other languages are capable. The Hebrew word panim means, in its simplest translation, “face” or “faces.” The letter bet serves as a prefix most often meaning “in” or “at.” It is the vocalization (or vowels) that distinguishes words in Hebrew in profound and astonishing ways. And so it is with the Hebrew word, בפנים: read one way (bifnim) it means inside, read a second way (bapanim) it means on the face of it or on one’s face. 

These five Hebrew letters, ב-פ-נ-י-ם, with minor changes in vocalization, point simultaneously to what Parker Palmer would call one’s inner self (bifnim) and one’s outward facing self (bapanim). At the heart of Palmer’s influential work quoted above is exploring these inner and outer landscapes, or aspects, of our teaching selves. When considering the subject of Israel, how do we, as Israel educators, with all the complexities this implies, align what is inside of us with what we share with and teach to our learners? Do we hide what’s in our hearts when we disagree with what we are asked to teach? Which face of Israel (and ourselves) do we share with our learners, and when?

Cultivating the Qualities of an Israel Educator
This set of questions led the team at The iCenter to ask, What are those worthy dispositions, the qualities, Israel educators need to develop and embody that will enable the kind of alignment to which Palmer points? And, following on this, how do we support Israel educators in developing such qualities? And so was born Face to Face: Panim El Panim, an initiative aiming to lift up the voices of practitioners in the field of Israel education in examining the qualities that help us show up and encounter one another face to face, as better educators and better people. The series draws on multiple sources including Mussar, soulful education developed by Aryeh ben David and influential educators such as Palmer, John Dewey and Barry Chazan. 

Central to this approach is the notion that bringing our whole and best selves to our work as Israel educators is an interactive and dialogic process. The program consists of a set of podcasts, text study materials, case studies and reflection exercises that educators can draw upon to meet their unique needs of the moment. Educators are encouraged to interact with the materials not only as individuals but also in a chevruta process of learning and reflection with another educator personally assigned to them. Through the encounter with someone who may bring different perspectives, participants are able to bring their internal and external panim into greater alignment. By encountering the other, we become more of ourselves.

This approach is particularly salient for the field of Israel education. There are relatively few subject areas in which the personal and professional, our own learning and teaching, are more intertwined. Israel’s dynamism as a society, culture, political entity and focus of the Jewish people leads to both emotional and intellectual challenges: the need to learn, respond, recalibrate our understanding and, sometimes, recenter our relationship with or views about Israel. Each of our learners or colleagues might also be going through a similar process, particularly those who are aware of current events and/or have an active, engaged connection to Israel. In our classrooms, programs and hallways, diving into and gaining deep awareness of qualities such as humility, empathy and empowerment, among others, can help us bring our best selves to our learners, their families and our world.

Finding Our Voice
“Voice,” our capacity to hear our own and others’ views, is at the core of this initiative. Short podcasts include deep conversations between two individuals who embody the disposition under consideration. For example, the quality of humility and its opposite, “will” or chutzpah, is explored by Anne Lanski, CEO of The iCenter, and Kfir Damari, the founder of SpaceIL (the project that launched Beresheet, the first Israeli spaceship to “land” on the moon). The landing was different than expected, both a success and less than had been hoped for. Damari and Lanski share moments in which they stepped back to make room for others (humility) and those in which they fiercely advocated for an idea or project (will). Their conversation is wrapped in short clips of a range of voices from the field, reflecting on their own embrace of or struggle with the disposition of humility.

The listener is then invited to draw upon questions, insights and practices raised by the conversation through a series of case studies, which spur reflection on real-life situations in their practice. In the case of humility, listeners are invited to: 

Reflect on questions relating to Micah 6:8: “He has told you, O human, what is good, and what the Lord requires of you: Only to do justice and to love goodness, and to walk modestly/humbly with your God.” 

Apply this learning to a situation in which an Israel program is being planned that is different than you had hoped but is still of good quality (humility) or, conversely, that is not good and you need to advocate to change it (will).

Consider one’s response to the question, “How much oxygen are you taking up in the planning and how much are you willing to relinquish to others?”

Find additional examples of where it is possible to practice humility, tempered by the need to display will or chutzpah.

Other panim or dispositions to be explored in the coming weeks and months include empowerment, empathy, joy, integrity and generosity.

Our Personal Journey
“We regard the individual as the main focus of education... Ultimately, education is about the personal journey to becoming human.” 

Barry Chazan, A Philosophy of Israel Education

Good Israel education is good Jewish education is good education, and at the center of all education are the learners. The word for face in Hebrew, panim, is plural, reflecting the multiple “faces” each of us and each of our learners embody, whether they be our hidden internal faces or our evident external faces. 

As Chazan reminds us, our role as educators is to continue to recognize this multiplicity of faces in ourselves and others and to endeavor to align our internal panim with our outward-facing panim. As teachers and as learners, our role is to bring these into dialogue with others on our journeys to becoming more human. This is the essence of Israel education.

Dr. Lesley Litman is on The iCenter consultant team, specializing in day schools and curriculum. She also serves as the director of the executive MA program in Jewish education and the coordinator for online instructional support at the Hebrew Union College - Jewish Institute of Religion. 

By Sharon Buenos

A few weeks ago I visited the Ghetto Fighters’ House. There, among the many items in the archive, I came across a letter written by David Ben-Gurion, Israel’s first prime minister, during the trial of the Nazi criminal Adolf Eichmann:

Every Jew has the right to prosecute Nazi murderers, but not everyone (and I think, no one) is allowed to speak on behalf of the millions of our people who were murdered. These millions are sacred, and none of us has the right to inherit and speak on their behalf.

Since the establishment of the State of Israel, Holocaust remembrance has become a concept that has taken on many forms. At first, Holocaust survivors were treated with contempt, and the newly established state did not allow them a place for discourse, defining them as coming from “there” and refraining from discussing the atrocities of the Holocaust. However, during the Eichmann trial, in the days when David Ben-Gurion wrote these words, Israeli society changed its attitude toward its survivors. The number six million was translated into words, stories, testimonies, objects and figures. For the first time, we listened and we saw the names and faces of the victims.

The change following the Eichmann trial, which began exactly 60 years ago (April 4, 1961) in Jerusalem, took place because we first heard the point of view of the victims. “History is told by winners”: this trial overturned that axiom, allowing many voices to be heard. It started a conversation and made us feel that their story is also our story. For the first time, we heard them recount the sights they saw, the smells they took in, and the horrors they experienced and heard. We learned about the darkest part of history, through their difficult experiences, in a direct and emotional way.

A New Means of Remembering Together

Zikaron BaSalon (Remembering in a Living Room) is an attempt to preserve the memory of the Holocaust by putting Ben-Gurion’s words into action. A group of people gather together in an intimate setting, in their home, a shared space, or online during Covid, and listen to the story of a Holocaust survivor—from the voice of a living survivor present in the room, or a recording. They are then invited to give expression to their feelings, in music, poetry or any form, and proceed to discuss their thoughts, ask questions, and reflect upon the meaning of the Shoah in their lives, in the Jewish community and the larger world.

Ben-Gurion argued that we should not speak on behalf of the survivors. Zikaron BaSalon continues his words by having survivors speak to us. We seek to have them transmit their memory of the Holocaust and make it our own. Even though we were not present there, so the memory is not literally ours, the commandment to tell their story is on us. At the same time, it is our responsibility to ensure that we have learned the lessons of the Holocaust and that we work to build a better world.

Every time I speak with a Holocaust survivor, they never talk about wars or revenge. They only make one request: to build a moral society that treats every person as a person, as equal. This is without a doubt their legacy.

Fulfilling the Commandment of Telling the Story

Zikaron BaSalon offers a ceremony that directs us to look at the past, that requires us to be present, and inspires us to look towards the future. It is not a history lesson, which can be acquired from a book or Google search. Zikaron BaSalon is the ability to hear the story of the Holocaust from those who experienced it, sitting next to us in the same living room, on the same couch, describing what happened. 

Seventy-six years have passed since the end of World War 2, and only a few remain who can tell about it firsthand. About 45 Holocaust survivors die every day, and for many, the reality is that their stories may pass with them. Unfortunately, in the next few years we will live in a world where there are no more Holocaust survivors; then the commandment will be upon us, the commandment to tell what we heard and keep telling those stories from generation to generation.

Every year, in Israel, on the day we mark Yom HaShoah, the entire country stops to the call of a siren. Schools, offices and shops freeze; on the highway, trucks, buses and private cars stop at the side of the road and drivers and passengers step out. For exactly two minutes, we all stand still. The memory makes us stop our busy routine and demands of us a moment of silence and thought.

As someone who is a third generation Holocaust survivor, I can also say from my most private experience that Zikaron BaSalon asks us to observe and listen, remember and discuss. It asks us to be the gatekeepers of our society that we build, whether we live in Israel or a Diaspora community.

Sharon Buenos is the global director at Zikaron BaSalon.