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A mother’s solution to the yeshiva tuition crisis

 
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We all know that there is a tuition crisis, right? We are paying college-sized tuitions for our children (upwards of $11,000 per year), who can be well-educated for a fraction of the cost. Yes, well-educated!

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I grew up a Conservative Jew in a Long Island town and went to a public school. Although it had a Jewish minority, Jews were well represented in the honors program. I attended a Conservative Hebrew school and was a bat mitzvah. I absolutely love being an Orthodox Jew (ba’al teshuvah), and I’m proud that my five children attend or will attend Hebrew day school. But sadly, I feel that our Orthodox Jewish education system is fundamentally flawed. I believe that sending our children to public school, followed by an after-school Orthodox program for a fraction of the cost, is a better plan.

If we all sent our children to our public schools (especially in Teaneck), they would be in a strongly Jewish environment. These Orthodox children would benefit tremendously and also have the right to religious freedom in these settings.

Relieving a large portion of tuition expense would dramatically improve family life. Families could grow larger; mothers and fathers might be able to work less and, most important, worry less. Families could spend more time nurturing their souls and spend more money on tzedakah.

I know that great public schools exist and produce exceptional college students. I also know that after-school “Hebrew schools” have produced great Jews. Modern Orthodox Jews have never had Hebrew schools like the one I attended — schools that would be able to complement a good secular education.

I am not saying public schools are a utopia and I know that children in them may be exposed to bad influences. But we are not isolationists; rather we should be a light unto the nations. All negative influences could be offset by values taught at home.

We certainly plan on sending our children to college and into the business world; we’re not sheltering them their entire lives. At this rate, where will that college money come from? Spent on kindergarten? I fear this may limit the educational and professional options that are extremely important down the road for our children.

I also feel that there are so many overlooked benefits of public schools (not just financial).

First, they are environments of equality. Children of the wealthy are given absolutely no special treatment, and poorer children don’t have to feel they are charity cases.

Second, there are greater opportunities in academics (more advanced placement college-level courses), athletics, music, art, foreign languages, and many extra-curricular activities. My public school experience allowed me to become fluent in Spanish, learn to play the saxophone, learn guitar, participate in chorus, and play every sport imaginable — all free of charge.

Third, there is diversity; while 85 percent of my close friends were Jews, I had many wonderful non-Jewish friends who gained positive views of the Jewish people through our friendships. I believe the “real world” experience of public school will also allow our children to become more tolerant and respectful adults.

Fourth, and perhaps most important, any child who requires speech therapy, occupational therapy, physical therapy, behavioral therapy, and the like will have it for free. One of my children attends a Teaneck public school because of his autism; he is in a class with three children and three teachers. His individualized education plan includes 1:1 student-teacher ratio, speech therapy, occupational therapy, and physical therapy three times a week and an eight-hour-per-week home therapist. He has been picked up and dropped off by bus at my front door since he was 3 years old — and it’s all free.

I have found many of the professionals in the Teaneck public schools to be exceptional and accommodating to all our religious needs. In my son’s school, he has a volunteer rabbi during lunch who recites blessings with him. Kosher meals are currently available as well. Children who come from solid Orthodox backgrounds would not be at risk in this secular environment.

What I envision is an intensive after-school Orthodox curriculum, using existing infrastructure at a fraction of the current cost of attending a yeshiva. I strongly feel that the benefits of this proposed system outweigh its costs. This system could work only if the public schools were heavily Orthodox and a great after-school religious curriculum were developed. This could and should be done.

We are losing precious Jewish souls because of financial birth control. Things need to change. Meanwhile, we will continue to pay in tuition what most people don’t earn in a year and lovingly raise our children who are attending outstanding yeshivas.

To be clear, I am not bashing the excellent yeshiva education my children receive. My motive is to create a less costly and high-quality Orthodox education system. I, like you, know nothing about the mechanics to bring about change, but I do know that silence only perpetuates the problem.

Amy Citron lives in Teaneck, where she is a physical therapist. She and her husband Yoav have five children.
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Stay tuned for the return of comments

robert posted 04 Feb 2009 at 12:56 AM

Amen. The ridiculous yeshiva tuitions are unsustainable. While the Orthodox are loathe to expose our kids to a non-jewish element, as you point out this is inevitable, and we might as well start early. Of course, Teaneck real estate taxes are supposedly already very high, and I suspect a sudden surge of hundreds if not thousands of new students will cause real financial headaches, and the local school boards to collectively stroke!!

 

Goodbye, New York Times

Dear New York Times,

It’s over between us.

For 30 years, I’ve been in love with you, NYT.

I met you soon after I moved here from Chicago. Never before had I read such thoughtful, compellingly written journalism, with dispatches from all over the globe that mirrored my politics and my interests. You opened my eyes, New York Times. Back in Chicago, the papers covered only local news, but you showed me there was a larger world out there, filled with enchanting possibilities.

It was love at first sight. From that very first time, I turned to your editorials and op-ed pages to shape my opinions. I wouldn’t see a movie or a play until I read your reviews. I chose books based on your recommendations. I tore out your recipes and saved them in a special notebook. It was a thrill when my illustrations appeared in your hallowed Sunday Magazine. The papers that described 9/11 and the election of our first black President are preserved lovingly in my basement.

 

 

Greetings, nods, and the art of saying “pajamas”

Walking through the streets of Teaneck this past Shabbos, I started thinking about a “good Shabbos” game my brothers and I used to play each week as we made our way across town.”

“P’jms.”

My 11-year-old brother snickers once the man — who had barely looked up from the sidewalk as he passed but still managed to mutter something resembling “gdshbs” under his breath — is well behind us.

A second opportunity arises. Two women, power-walking, speed past us on the left. They’re absorbed in conversation, but one nods and the other throws a quick “Good Shabbos” over her shoulder. “P’jms,” my brother mumbles. Quickly. It has to be said quickly for both full effect and so as not to be discovered. The women continue on, oblivious to this wordplay.

A minute passes. An approaching teenager with hands in his pockets eyes us from afar and abruptly crosses to the other side of the street. My brother scowls, a pajama-moment taken away from him.

 

 

Superhero spring

The second quarter of 2014 has been rather remarkable for superhero movies, with three different films, “Captain America: The Winter Soldier,” “The Amazing Spider-Man 2,” and “X-Men: Days of Future Past,” in the theaters all at the same time at one point.

All three movies are adaptations of Marvel Comics, the publishing group launched by Stan Lee (aka Stanley Lieber) in 1961, and purchased by Disney in 2009. Stan Lee was the son of Jewish immigrants from Romania, and as a teenager took a job in 1939 with Timely Publications, the company that he eventually would evolve into Marvel Comics.

 

 

RECENTLYADDED

‘The heart that feels not now is dead’

“It is the good fortune of many to live distant from the scene of sorrow; the evil is not sufficiently brought to their doors to make them feel the precariousness” of those living under conditions of war.

This observation aptly describes the experience of Jews who have been watching increasingly tragic events unfold in Israel from the privileged safety of our American diaspora. These words were penned, however, by Thomas Paine — American author, political theorist, and philosopher — in his celebrated 1776 pamphlet, “Common Sense.” The precarious conditions he described were, specifically, the privations and predations endured by colonists in my native Massachusetts, besieged and subjugated with particular brutality by the British army. Paine wrote in order to arouse sympathy and solidarity among colonists at a distance from the conflict — those, say, in New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Virginia, and South Carolina. His admonition in “The American Crisis” resounds with wisdom for Jews ostensibly far from “the scene of sorrow” during Operation Protective Edge: “It matters not where you live, or what rank of life you hold, the evil or the blessing will reach you all. The far and the near, the home counties and the back, the rich and the poor, will suffer or rejoice alike. The heart that feels not now is dead.”

 

 

Love thy neighbor

Isn’t it hopeless?

Here we go again, with Hamas attacking Israel from Gaza for the third time, just weeks after the kidnapping and tragic death of three Israeli youngsters and the horrendous act of burning a Palestinian boy alive by our own.

Who can bear it? And how will it ever end? Isn’t it hopeless?

There is a popular chasidic-style song with some significant words for times like these: “We are believers the children of believers….” Well, though it strains belief, in the midst of all this terror and bad blood between Israelis and Palestinians, there was a peace initiative that actually went viral.

 

 

From the narrow places

As a teenager I was a competitive faster — and summer was my season.

As a camper and then as a staffer at Camp Yavneh in Northwood, New Hampshire, I shone in my ability to fast for two long, hot summer days, separated by only three weeks — and the second of those fasts even started at sundown the night before.

Don’t jump to any conclusions. There was no eating disorder involved. If anorexia and bulimia were known at the time, they must have been banned in Boston. It is simply a Jewish ritual that, maximally observed, got you out of swimming for three weeks, without having to plead menstruation, and garnered praise from the more Orthodox among the faculty.

 

 
 
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