That would have been the title of this blogpost if I had any real courage.
Because there can be no reminiscence of my father of blessed memory without at least one awful pun and, although timely, that is simply awful.
If you were to come to my house (and you are certainly welcome to visit!), and ask either of my daughters for a tissue, I’d bet you dollars to donuts that they would respond, “Tissue?! I don’t even know you!”
And up in heaven, in between an eternal binge-watch of “Law & Order” and “Hardball”, a figure in an Oakland A’s baseball cap and a T-shirt purchased in heaven’s gift shop would smile in recognition.
Although yizkorcomes four times a year, for me, this one – at Yom Kippur – always feels like yizkor with a capital “Y”. Maybe it’s because of the solemnity of the day. Likely it’s because of its proximity to his yahrzeit(20 Av). Regardless, this liminal week between Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur, in addition to all the other spiritual work required to perform teshuvah, has become an annual exercise to think about my dad, his impact on my life, my own fatherhood, and my work in a field where we are often called upon to be in loco parentis.
There are days when it feels like it happened years ago. There are days when it feels like it never happened. And there are days where it feels like it is happening all over again. I am assured that this is all normal and I am sure that it is. What have I learned over the these last two years of fatherlessness? Well, there is nothing more clarifying than experiencing family pain. There is nothing like watching your parents’ love to remind you to cherish the love you are lucky to have. There is nothing like watching your parents’ vulnerability to encourage you to treasure your children. I continue to pray that as a result of this annual unwelcome reminder of life’s fragility that I will be a better husband, a better father, a better friend, and a better educator.
As part of that process, please allow me apologize to all those I have wronged or hurt, intentionally or unknown over the past year. I look forward to working on myself to be the best “me” I can in the upcoming year.
And I hope to take the lessons of my father of blessed memory to heart as I try to follow his footsteps on the journey of my own fatherhood…
Hopefully your summer has been all you wanted it to be and that whatever your goals were for the summer – professional development, vacation, relaxation, rejuvenation, reconnection, spending time with family, etc. – you accomplished them and more. But as August heads towards September and our earliest schools have already begun to welcome teachers and parents back to school, it seems appropriate to mark the occasion.
In the beginning of one of my favorite books, The Sabbath, by one of my favorite Jewish thinkers Abraham Joshua Heschel, he says, “Judaism is a religion of time (emphasis in original) aiming at the sanctification of time. Later on, he refers to Shabbat using a similar metaphor – “a palace in time”.
Among the many things Heschel is describing is the value of celebrating and cherishing moments in time. That time can be sacred and holy. For the purpose of his book, it is the Sabbath under consideration. For the purpose of this blog, it is the idea of how important it is to stop and appreciate the everyday miracles of time all around us.
One of those miracles, to me, is the start of school.
This was a week of firsts for many in our schools, a week of firsts that will be be repeated as schools open their doors across the continent. First days of school for our kindergartners. First days of a last year for our eighth graders or twelfth graders. First days in a new school for teachers and heads (and board members). First days for new families. First echoes of laughter and rolling backpacks in hallways that were still and empty just a few weeks ago. First lessons brought to life from planning and imagination. First hiccups of schools in transition. First successes. First mishaps.
First steps to an unlimited future.
I believe in the religiosity of teaching and the teacher-student relationship. To borrow and butcher Martin Buber, I believe that when we treat others as objects, we are in an “I-It” relationship; when we treat others with recognition of the divine within them – when we acknowledge that we are all created in God’s image and treat each other as such, we are in an “I-Thou” relationship. Taking a deeper step (according to this idea) would be to say that when we treat each other with love, we invite God’s presence into our relationships. Not merely as metaphor, but as an existential fact.
One way to measure school success, I would suggest, will be determined by whether or not those engaged in the sacred work of schooling see each other as “Thou’s” and not “It’s”. Will we do the work necessary from the start of school to develop “Thou” relationships with our students? With their parents?
We’ll know if we are able to identify the good that comes with each student and share it with his or her parents. We’ll know if we are able to share the difficult truths which are our responsibility to share and have them received in the spirit in which we will surely wish it to be received. We’ll know if we are able to hear difficult truths about ourselves in the spirit in which they will surely be given. The spirit of genuine partnership where only the wellbeing of the child is important. The spirit of seeing the best in each other, even when it takes a little more energy.
The spirit that exists when we see each other as a “Thou” and not an “It”.
And so…congratulations to the teachers, heads, staff, lay leaders and volunteers who worked so hard for a successful start. Thank you to all the parents who trust us with your children. Thank you to the students for your smiles and eagerness. And as we move from the excitement of the first week into the routines of the first month, let us all cherish the everyday moments too often overlooked – a new skill mastered, a new friend made, a new year begun.
I think it is reasonable to conclude that Storify has become my preferred method of documenting my learning from professional development conferences and experiences. I like how visual it is and I love how easy it is to preserve the links to all my learning.
We had a wonderful experience on Monday in Los Angeles and I am pleased to amplify the learning by inviting you into its story. I hope our learning inspires more learning, more reflection, and more sharing.
What a difference a year (and a career change) make!
#TBT MJGDS Kitah Gimmel Model Seder 2012
I was leading or attending model seders long before my children were born, but this marks the first year in about fifteen or so that the only model seders I “had” to attend were my own children’s. It was very bittersweet to see all of the wonderful Passover experiences being offered at Jewish day schools throughout the world. As much as it was a luxury to only have my children to attend to, it was also a reminder of how different it is working one concentric circle more macro than a school. To all those teachers and administrators who had the responsibility for multiple Passover seders in addition to preparing for their own, I salute you. And I wish you all the joy and relaxation possible during your holiday.
This is my 200th blog post!
The beauty/excitement/frustration/wonder of blogging is that you don’t always know who (if anyone!) is reading. Very occasionally, especially in this field for reasons to be explored at another time, I will write something that will attract some measure of verifiable interest. A few brave folk will comment directly on the blog or I can see the number of tweets, reposts or “likes”. It gives me some sense that someone is actually out there! Going back over my posts, it is often the case that the ones I thought would resonate didn’t and a post that I thought was no big deal captures the most attention. That’s part of the fun.
Many (many!) times, I have attempted to use this blog not to share my opinions, disseminate information, showcase excellence, share a personal observation or professionally reflect, but to invite conversation.
The value added of the blogosphere is the opportunity to have your thinking challenged and expanded by the interaction of your ideas with others. The power of collaborative reflection can only be realized with others. Believe me, I would and will continue to blog because of the value it provides me of personal reflection and the utility it offers me to share important information with professional stakeholders. But, it is only in the company of others does my learning expand.
So at the risk of tilting at windmills, I will again see if a conversation can be generated.
It has become a tradition for organizations to use the pedagogy of Passover to advocate for causes. We can change customs (“The Four Children”), add customs (“Miriam’s Cup), or adjust customs. One common adjustment is the addition of a “fifth question”. In addition to the traditional “Four Questions” we add one to address important issues of the day. You can go online and find a myriad of examples of “fifth questions” that deal with everything from hunger, drought, Israel, peace, etc., etc. You can find a “fifth question” for every cause.
Sometimes the questions are more important than the answers…
As we collectively prepare to celebrate our freedom tomorrow evening, I would like to share with you some of my “fifth questions”.
Jon’s “Fifth Questions” for Passover
Executive Director of Schechter: Why will this conversation about the field be different than all other ones?
Jewish Day School Practitioner: Fill in the blanks. “During all other admissions seasons we’ve used Value Proposition A, but during this season we are using Value Proposition B and it has made all the difference.”
Israel Advocate: If I will not literally aim towards “Next year in Jerusalem…” how can I use those words to inspire my deeper engagement with the Land, People and State of Israel in the year to come?
Parent: How can the imagery of the “Four Children” remind me that my children are unique – from each other as well as everyone else – and that the responsibility for “differentiated instruction” is as much (if not more) a parent’s as it is a teacher’s?
What are some of your “Fifth Questions”? I will highlight any good ones that come back to me as well as share any interesting answers to mine or other questions that I hear during the holiday. I know my seders will be enhanced through your wisdom.
I had decided weeks ago to dedicate this week’s blog to the upcoming World Zionist Organization’s (WZO) elections (voting currently open) and my feelings about being on the MERCAZ slate for the very first time. I had no intention of engaging in discussion about the elections in Israel or using this platform to compare and contrast our ability to influence the Jewish future in Israel and abroad through either election process.
And I still don’t.
There continues to be a vigorous conversation about both the manner and outcome of Israel’s elections. I am following it with all the passion I possess for Israel. I am reading and reflecting on where we are and what it all means – for Israel, for the Jewish People, for pluralism and for peace. As a private individual, I feel very comfortable sharing my feelings. Just last evening, I had the pleasure of participating in a heated debate about Israel amongst friends at a local bar. (I imagine it was one of the few conversations about Israel taking place at that bar, or any bar, in Jacksonville that evening.) However, as a public individual, I feel equally comfortable admitting that I lack both the expertise and the standing to use this space to weigh in.
Reality check.
It is because I am the Executive Director of the Schechter Day School Network that I am a candidate on the MERCAZ slate for elections to the WZO. It is a function of my positional authority, not my personal expertise, that I may be in position to serve. This doesn’t mean that I am not taking it seriously. I am! I have learned things about MERCAZ and the WZO that I honestly should have already known without having to be put on the slate. This also doesn’t mean that I am not excited about it. I am! I am inspired about the mission, platform, and achievements of MERCAZ and its partner organizations.
It should come as no surprise, however, that as an educator what I am most proud/excited/inspired by is the incredible opportunity to help grow the TALI Network of Schools – a sister network if there ever was one.
Here is why Israel needs TALI:
Every Jewish child in Israel deserves a Jewish education. But most go without.
Jews in Israel are deeply divided along religious and secular fault-lines – a divide that tears at the fabric of Israeli society. For sixty years, this division has been fostered by Israel’s school system which operates only two educational streams: religious and secular.
Yet most Jewish Israelis define themselves as neither Orthodox nor secular, but as traditional. They identify with Jewish culture and heritage, but feel alienated by a rigid, politicized religious establishment. By sending their children to secular public schools, most Israeli parents have forfeited their children’s right to a Jewish education.
TALI brings Jewish learning to the secular Israeli classroom, connecting pupils with their heritage, and educating towards religious pluralism in the Jewish state.
This quote comes directly from the TALI page on the Schechter Institute website. Although there are many differences between public TALI schools in Israel and private Schechter schools in North America, this statement of need serves as a powerful reminder of how critical it is that the center – the mercaz – does, in fact, hold. TALI is more than a network of schools in Israel. It is a thought-leader and program-provider to the field of Jewish education. TALI is critical to growing a pluralistic future in Israel. Schechter schools are already in relationship with TALI schools and I hope this relationship only deepens in the years to come. I am inspired by TALI’s accomplishments and can only dream of what it could become with access to greater resources.
So, yes, the reason I am on the slate is because of my job. But the reason I am enthusiastic and honored to be on the slate is because of the mission. If you are similarly inspired, I hope you, too, will join me this year in a…
Chanukah in Jacksonville, Florida gives “Festival of Lights” a whole new meaning!
This is the time of year when many rabbis and Jewish educators dust off their “Christmas Dilemma” sermons or lessons. It isn’t difficult to understand why. Advertising for Christmas begins before Thanksgiving these days and in communities like Jacksonville, Florida, where the Jewish presence is (relatively) small, Chanukah rates barely a mention. But to me, this is not the time to lament that Chanukah, a minor rabbinic holiday, has been elevated into a major holiday in order to protect the North American Jewish psyche against the annual Christmas bombardment. What I’m more interested in is to take a moment to see what light this so-called “dilemma” sheds on how one deals with the dissonance between our shared cultural heritages. Because like it or not, Christmas, is not (only) a religious holiday, but an American holiday, and as such it helps us refine our understanding of what it means to have an “integrated” curriculum.
Christmas is almost an unfair example to take because regardless of which attitude towards “integration” a Jewish day school takes, it almost surely isn’t going to integrate the ideas and values of Christmas into its curriculum. However, if you take one aspect of Christmas in America (or Canada)—consumerism—you can see how complicated integration can be. Consumerism with its focus on individual material attainment is not consonant with Jewish values. So what is a Jewish day school to do with Chanukah in today’s world?
Being “Jewish” and being “American” (or “Canadian” or wherever you may live) is not the same thing. However proud we legitimately ought to be of our dual identities, we are not being intellectually honest if we claim they are identical and never in conflict. [Please keep in mind that the choice not to choose between is itself a choice.] Celebrating the consumerist aspects of Chanukah without acknowledging their conflict with Jewish values is to claim that such a conflict does not exist. Although I am generalizing, Schechter schools adopt neither rejectionist nor assimilationist attitudes towards the secular societies of which they are a part. Nor do we feel so threatened by general society that we have to make everything Jewish. No, we strive to be interactionist—our philosophy which can be seen in everything from our curricula to our websites to our field trips—seeking to allow the Jewish and the general to interact naturally as it does in the real world.
Photographed by Chayim B. Alevsky
So please, celebrate the historical and religious significance of Chanukah with joy, festivity, and yes, presents. But this Chanukah, let’s not forget our Jewish values of tzedakah (charity) and kehillah (community). Along with your normal gift-giving, consider donating a night or two of your family’s celebration to those less fortunate than ourselves. By doing so we send a powerful message that there are times when our Jewish values command us to reject the values of secular culture and that not only is that okay, but sometimes it is both necessary and appropriate.
We are deep into the holidays! We have come out of Rosh Hashanah & Yom Kippur and headed straight into Sukkot. I just finished putting up my sukkah (talk about a “floor, but no ceiling”!) and look forward to picking up my children from their half-day and finishing the decorations together as a family.
This is absolutely my favorite holiday of the entire year. There is nothing else like it on the Jewish Calendar – sitting outside in a sukkah you built yourself (which is pretty much the one and only thing I actually can and do build), with handmade decorations from your children, enjoying good food with friends and family in the night air, the citrusy smell of etrog lingering and mixing with verdant lulav – this is experiential Judaism at its finest.
But here is a complicated truth: Even though our Jewish day schools will be closed on Thursday and Friday for Sukkot, it is reasonable to assume that the majority of our Jewish day school students will not be found in synagogue enjoying what is known as “The Season of our Rejoicing”. But I’d wager that many, if not most, were in synagogue last weekend for Yom Kippur. So when it comes to “atoning” we have a full house, but for “rejoicing” we have empty seats?
If our children – if we – only experience the Judaism of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur and not the Judaism of Sukkot, the simple truth is that we are not exposing them to the full range of beauty and joy our tradition has to offer. So why, in fact, is this what typically happens?
I’m not entirely sure, but I think it has to do with the exotic nature of the holiday. As someone who did not grow up celebrating this holiday, upon coming to synagogue as an adult and watching a congregation march in circles waving fruits and vegetables – well this was not the Judaism I knew! Truth be told, there are surely pagan accretions to the way that we honor the harvest roots of this holiday which may seem alien to the typical prayerbook service. But for me, that is precisely what makes it so unique, special and not-to-be-missed!
No one likes to feel uncomfortable and adults especially are wary of feeling uneducated or unprepared. I know how I felt encountering Jewish ritual for the first time as an adult – it was scary. I, however, was lucky. I was pursuing a degree in Jewish education and, therefore, had all the support and resources I needed to learn and grow. I realize that most adults coming at Jewish practice for the first time (or the first time in a while) are not so lucky. The amount of “stuff” Judaism asks of us to do – building the sukkah with precise specifications, shaking the lulav and etrog in the proscribed way, chanting less-familiar prayers, coming to synagogue on unfamiliar days – can be overwhelming.
But don’t lose the forest through the trees…I’d simply ask you to consider this: When building your child’s library of Jewish memories, which memory feels more compelling and likely to resonate over time – sitting in starched clothes in sanctuary seats or relaxing with friends and family in an outdoor sukkah built with love and care?
You don’t have to choose just one, of course, that is the beauty of living a life of sacred time – there is a rhythm to the Jewish calendar, evocative and varied. Come to synagogue for the High Holidays, to be sure. But don’t miss out on Sukkot (or Simchat Torah or Shavuot or “Add Jewish Holiday Here”). Let this Sukkot truly be the season of our great rejoicing. I hope to see many students in synagogue this Sukkot. I hope to see many parents push themselves out of their comfort zones and join the parade. Go ahead…pick up your fruit and vegetables and march with us.
[Cross-posted to the Schechter website and our last Constant Contact.]
The Jewish holiday of Rosh Hashanah begins tonight and is the most well-known of the Jewish “New Year’s” (we actually have four different ones, including Tu B’Shevat). Additionally, since most of us also follow the secular calendar, we have an extra one each year on the eve of December 31st. And finally, if you are in the field of education, well, the start of school provides yet another “new year”. Putting it all together, suffice it to say, we have ample opportunities each year to pause and reflect on the year that was and to hope and dream about the year that is yet to be.
This is the time of year that schools engage in all sorts of creative ways to perform tashlikh – a ceremony in which we cast off the sins of the past with an eye towards improving our behavior for the future. A common activity for our youngest students has them draw a picture and/or write about a behavior they want to avoid doing again – mistreating a sibling, being disobedient to a parent, not being a good friend. etc. After they make their project, they crumble it into a ball and throw it into the trash. Bye-bye bad behaviors!
Were it only that easy!
All schools count “character education” as part of their mission. All educators consider it part of their already challenging jobs to help children grow and develop as human beings. Part of what I enjoy about working with Jewish day schools is that we get to make that part of our curriculum explicit. We are in the business of making menschen and during the High Holiday season, business is good!
This season, hundreds upon thousands of Schechter students will make lunches for those who are hungry and bake honey cakes for the holiday and deliver them to the elderly. Programs like this – call it “service learning” or call it a “Mitzvah Program” – are opportunities for our students to get outside the walls of the building and put into practice what they learn inside. It is not academic time lost, but rather life-changing experiences gained. Through programs like this, our students are reminded that there needs to be a proper balance between “study” and “action”, and we can see the “Schechter Difference” in action.
So who will we become this year? Beyond all our academic hopes and dreams, will this be the year we become who we were meant to be? Will we live up to our own lofty expectations? Will we be better children, better students, better teachers, better siblings, better partners, better spouses, better colleagues, better friends – will we be a better “us”?
As the eve of a new Jewish Year approaches, it is my most sincerest hope that this is the year we’ve been waiting for. To all the teachers, staff, parents, students, donors, supporters, and friends in this special network of schools – thank you for your enthusiasm and your hard work. 5775 is shaping up to be a quite an amazing year! From our family to yours, “Shanah tovah!”
Passing the torch to my friend, mentor and new Head of MJGDS, Rabbi Jim Rogozen.
In June, I wrote my last blog post as head of the Martin J. Gottlieb Day School (MJGDS) and on July 1, I officially assumed my new role as Executive Director of the Schechter Day School Network. It has been an extremely busy couple of months and as I have been finding my way in my new work, I put my blogging on hold so as to give me time to decide how to repurpose and reimagine who I am blogging for and what I ought to be blogging about.
If you are regular reader of this blog (and “thank you” if you are!), you know that it was born out of a desire to lead by example. I had inherited a school that embraced a culture of blogging and it did not seem fair to expect students and teachers to blog regularly if I wasn’t willing to do the same. And so in July 2010, I wrote my first blog post and pushed it out into the world.
I chose to title the blog, “A Floor, But No Ceiling,” which reflects my belief about teaching and learning – namely that there should be a floor, but no ceiling on expectations, achievements or possibilities for learning. I imagined my primary audience – if there was going to be an audience at all – would be the stakeholders of the school and I tried to find topics I imagined would be of interest for parents, board members, donors, supporters, etc., of this one Jewish day school in Jacksonville, Florida.
Perhaps it was the forced discipline of weekly blogging. Perhaps it was my wandering attention span. Perhaps it was the generous patronage of folk with a much greater online presence than my own. Perhaps it was the timing.
Who knows?
Over time, it became clear that the blog had developed multiple audiences and I tried to shift both my writing style and my topics accordingly. I could never predict when a post would resonate or with whom. And since even today most blog readers prefer to remain lurkers rather than active commentators, it remains difficult to be really sure you aren’t just whispering into the wind.
So…
…having come to believe in the power of blogging, I have every intention of resuming weekly blog posts, beginning with this one.
But…
…who am I writing this blog post for and what will I be writing about?
History teaches that the accurate answer will more likely evolve in time than be what I am suggesting here, but I do have some thoughts to get me started.
As was the case before, this is a professional blog. I am blogging as the Executive Director of a network of diverse Schechter schools throughout the world doing the critical and holy work of educating the next generation of Jewish children. I would hope that those who are already stakeholders of their local Schechter schools and for the larger mission of “Schechter” will find this blog a valuable resource. And I would hope that those who care passionately about Jewish day school, Jewish education and education will find this blog a useful read as I attempt to tackle important issues of the day, share perspective, answer questions, field feedback, and – in my own way – try to create a commonplace of exploration, discussion and celebration for the sacred task of educating Jewish children.
As was the case before, this is a professional blog written by a particularly personality…mine. I am blogging as Jon Mitzmacher. I don’t have dual identities and although I respect those who have both professional and personal identities, I neither have the time nor the interest in maintaining them. My understanding of authenticity leads me to be me. You will get my love for words you need to look up. You will get my many ellipses, asides, and occasional snark. You will get glimpses into my family when appropriate. You will get the extra 400 words that a more parsimonious (see!) writer doesn’t need to get to the point.
My colleague, Andrea Hernandez, who I am thrilled will be one of my daughter’s teachers next year at MJGDS and continues to lead edJEWcon into a bright future, introduced me to a phrase that I loved so much that I both wish I had thought of it and toyed with the idea of changing my blog’s title to it…and that is “The Adjacent Possible”.
It is not a new concept. A Google search will reveal lots of articles going back to 2010. Here is the definition that struck me from Steven Johnson’s fantastic essay for the Wall Street Journal called “The Genius of the Tinkerer.”
The adjacent possible is a kind of shadow future, hovering on the edges of the present state of things, a map of all the ways in which the present can reinvent itself. The adjacent possible captures both the limits and the creative potential of change and innovation. The strange and beautiful truth about the adjacent possible is that its boundaries grow as you explore them. Each new combination opens up the possibility of other new combinations.
And so goes my “a-ha” moment from the Summer of 2014.
That’s how I see what is happening in Schechter schools – an adjacent possible for the future of education. That’s what role I see for Schechter in the field – learning from and contributing to a larger adjacent possible for the future of the Jewish people. Let our ability to serve as incubators of innovation catalyze the field. Let our thirst for the new and the better stimulate and foster healthy collaborations with our sister networks of schools, foundations, federations, stakeholders, supports and friends, both in the Jewish world and beyond.
What do I hope to accomplish with this blog?
I hope – with your help – to make the adjacent possible.
We’ll start next week with a summer update of all things Schechter. Your comments and questions on this or anything else are genuinely welcome and if offered, will be addressed.
This was originally published last year also the week prior our Passover activities. I have revised it slightly…
Regardless of whether the thought of not having a “model seder” to attend this year makes you happy or sad, let’s revisit the “model seder” and why we have changed up our Passover programming here at MJGDS.
What, exactly, is a “model seder” supposed to accomplish? Do we need to do one in each grade? And if not, are there other Passover experiences we can offer families that might be nice to experience as well?
At the Martin J. Gottlieb Day School, we had been pretty consistently offering pretty consistent-feeling model seders year after year for quite a while. Are they rehearsals for the main event? Are they just-in-case some families have no other Passover experience?
I admit that year before last I hit a bit of a “model seder” wall. I had my own two children’s to attend. And I had to make meaningful appearances at every other one in both the Preschool and the Day School. By the time we got to Passover itself, I really wasn’t in the mood for two more! I mean I love charoset, gefilte fish, and matzah as much as the next person…
We do believe in the “model seder”. The seder itself is amongst the most powerful pedagogies ever developed. Celebrating a holiday through reenactment is experiential education at its finest. We like it so much we have created them for Tu B’Shevat, Yom Ha’Atzmaut and holidays! And we do in the Jewish day school feel a certain pressure to provide Jewish experiences of holidays to ensure all our families have opportunities to participate. Hence, our monthly “All-School Kabbalat Shabbat” services and this year’s Purim celebration (we felt we needed to acknowledge Purim in school even though it fell on a weekend this year). Basically, outside of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, we celebrate the entire Jewish calendar in school – whether they fall during school or not. So we were not going to get rid of Passover. But maybe we could provide a differentiated educational experience?
So the Jewish Studies Faculty and I met after that Passover to reflect and to plan, and we were pleased last year deliver a K-8 differentiated Passover experience for MJGDS students and families:
Kitot Vav – Chet: Lead Seder at Mt. Carmel in partnership with JFCS
Feedback from students, parents, and teachers last year was extremely positive and so next week we will try it again!
Each grade (or grade grouping) has its particular theme or experience (or both). Every student will have learned appropriate Passover material and each family will have a chance to have an appropriate Passover family experience. Hopefully, the differentiated experience will continue to give our students something new to look forward to each year…and give our parents and families (particularly those with multiple children) something different to experience with each child.
Looking forward to all the pre-Passover excitement coming soon!
“Yizkor?! I don’t even know her!”
