Jewish day school – A Floor, But No Ceiling

A Floor Beneath, No Ceiling Above, and North Stars to Guide: My Final Post as OJCS HoS

Eight years ago, in the summer of 2017, I relaunched this blog in my then-new role as Head of School at OJCS, promising transparency, authenticity, and community engagement. Since then, I’ve published over 175 blog posts, mixing metaphors, extending analogies, and—admittedly—never quite mastering brevity.

A playful yet real look back by the numbers:

“Transparency Files” posts: 27
Posts tackling French curriculum and bilingualism: 16
Posts exploring Jewish Studies, pluralism, and identity: 24
Posts explicitly focused on culture, innovation, and change: 38
Total approximate word count: 210,000 (enough for three average novels—or about the length of a typical Jon Mitzmacher email)

Behind these playful statistics lies the heart of the meaningful work we’ve accomplished together. This June offered several opportunities to share reflections directly with different parts of our community—our Board, our families and supporters, and (on Monday night!) our graduating class. Each message carried its unique emphasis, but woven together, they create a powerful tapestry of gratitude, celebration, vision, and hope.

To the Board of Trustees

Reflecting on our time together, I shared my gratitude for the extraordinary dedication of our lay leaders. Our Board members have given generously of their time, talent, and treasure—especially their time, the most precious gift. Over these eight years, we have navigated strategic shifts, enrollment growth, financial stewardship, a global pandemic, and October 7th, demonstrating courage, moral clarity, and thoughtful decision-making at every step. I expressed particular thanks to four remarkable Board Chairs—Michael Polowin, Leila Ages, Lorne Segal, and Joanne Gorenstein—each of whom led with wisdom, integrity, and care. We wrote these chapters together, understanding clearly that while no single person finishes this sacred work, each of us has the profound obligation to contribute meaningfully to its ongoing story.

To the OJCS Community

Addressing our wider community, I reaffirmed the clarity with which I chose Ottawa—not once, but twice. Coming here was never a difficult choice because I saw, clearly and immediately, the enormous potential in this school and community. OJCS has become an engine of transformation, a beacon of unapologetic Jewish joy in Canada’s capital. Our achievements—steady enrollment growth, bold innovations, meaningful engagement with pluralism and inclusion, significant enhancements to French fluency, increased contact time and rigour in Jewish Studies, our beautifully renovated spaces, and a remarkable 75th anniversary—testify to our capacity to build something truly transformational. And still, I insisted, our greatest days lie ahead, with much ground yet to break and many more Jewish lives to inspire.

To Our Graduates

Speaking directly to our graduates, I celebrated their extraordinary journeys and their resilience. They began Grade 1 as I began my tenure, and we’ve grown together over these eight remarkable years. In a world increasingly divided, OJCS has served as a haven for unity and diversity, preparing them to enter a complicated world as compassionate, literate, and passionate Jewish leaders.

A Special OJCS North Stars Blessing for Our Community

As I conclude this chapter, let me offer a special adaptation of the OJCS North Stars Blessing we offer each year at graduation, now reimagined specifically as a blessing for our entire community:

“Have a floor, but not a ceiling” – as a community, may we always maintain high standards, setting strong foundational expectations while continually encouraging bold aspirations. May OJCS always push beyond perceived limitations, committed to excellence, innovation, and meaningful growth for everyone it touches.
“Ruach” – may our community forever be defined by unapologetic Jewish joy. Even in challenging times, may we remain playful, spirited, and passionately engaged in the celebrations, traditions, and everyday moments that make Jewish life vibrant and compelling.
“We own our own learning” – may we continue to embrace learning as active and intentional, never passive. Let OJCS continue to be a community where everyone—students, teachers, parents, stakeholders—feels empowered and inspired to shape their educational experiences and paths forward.
“We are each responsible one to the other” – may our community remain deeply committed to caring for one another and repairing the world around us. Let OJCS always be a place where Torah inspires mitzvot, mitzvot inspire learning, and acts of kindness and responsibility become our hallmark.
“We learn better together” – may our community remain a beacon of collaboration, unity, and mutual support. Understanding that we achieve more collectively than individually, let OJCS always model this deeply Jewish value, inspiring stronger relationships and shared successes.
“We are on our own inspiring Jewish journey” – may our community proudly and intentionally embrace our unique approach to Jewish pluralism. Let OJCS always be a haven where diverse Jewish journeys are not only accepted but celebrated, offering a powerful example of unity without uniformity to the wider world.

Thank you for walking this journey with me, for engaging openly and thoughtfully, and for believing so deeply in the transformative power of Jewish education. It has truly been the honour and privilege of my professional life.

As we look toward our shared future, let joy be our guiding principle:

“Ivdu Et Hashem B’Simchah—Serve God with joy.” (Psalm 100:2)

May the joy we have created together continue to inspire us, enrich our lives, and guide us forward.

And so, once again, this blog will go on a brief hiatus as I prepare to change roles. People have asked, and so let me name here that as of August 1st, will become a Senior Director with Scott Goldberg Consulting (SGC). As was true during my years with Schechter and Prizmah, I am looking forward again to widening my aperture while still serving the field. This blog has transitioned with me along my professional journey, evolving and growing with each new role I have been blessed to play. This will be true now as well. I will take some time off from weekly blogging – I will take some time off period! – but then I look forward to relaunching the next iteration of “A Floor, But No Ceiling” once I am clear as to how my thought leadership is best exhibited in this new role. I am excited for what comes next…stay tuned.

Looking Backwards to Look Forward #6: The “J” in “OJCS”

What does the “J” in “OJCS” (really) stand for?

When I first posed that question in a blog post back in October 2017 (The Transparency Files: Let’s Talk About the “J” In OJCS), it was not rhetorical. It was existential. It was a genuine inquiry into who we were, Jewishly, as a school — and more importantly, who we aspired to become.

This post marks the final entry in our Looking Backwards to Look Forward series. It is not my farewell post — that will come in due course — but it is my last opportunity in this format to reflect on one of the great honours of my professional life: stewarding the Jewish mission and vision of the Ottawa Jewish Community School.

Over the past eight years, we have done the hard work — and the heart work — of bringing clarity, coherence, rigour and joy to Jewish life at OJCS. And in doing so, we’ve ensured that the “J” is no longer a question mark. It’s a celebration.

Looking Backward: From Fog to Framework

The journey to articulate our Jewish vision began in earnest with our Jewish Town Halls (Part I | Part II). We asked our stakeholders — students, teachers, parents, board members, rabbis — what kind of Jewish community school they wanted. What kind of Judaism we should model. What values we should lift up.

From those conversations emerged not just answers, but a framework. We identified four core drivers of Jewish life at OJCS:

Ritual & Practice – From the joyful chaos of Kabbalat Shabbat to our revamped Tefillah curriculum, from the Chaggim to Shavuat HaRuach, we infused our calendar — and our classrooms — with meaningful Jewish rhythm.
Text & Literacy – We expanded Jewish Studies and Hebrew instruction, introduced Rabbinics, and made sacred text a daily companion, not an occasional visitor. Hebrew fluency – embedded into our mission from the beginning – is the key that unlocks all doors; the spine upon which the Jewish Studies program is built.
Community & Mitzvot – The Rabbi Bulka Kindness Projects, family learning programs, and Middle School Retreats gave students a chance to live their values, not just learn about them.
Israel & Zionism – We built a curriculum that treated Israel not as a postcard or a prayer, but as a complex, beloved homeland — worthy of both celebration and critical engagement.

These weren’t abstract ideas. They became lived experiences. The joy on the faces of Kitah Alef students receiving their first siddurim at Kabbalat Ha’Siddur — not as a trophy, but as a tool (The Gift of Joyful Prayer). The pride of Middle Schoolers singing Kabbalat Shabbat at Hillel Lodge, leading Yom HaZikaron ceremonies, or offering divrei Torah from our bimah. The contagious joy of Jewish learning, song, dance, and pride that began to echo through our halls.

October 7th: A Test of Vision and Values

And then came October 7th.

Like every Jewish institution around the world, we were shaken. But we were not unmoored.

What we had built together — a Jewish school anchored in pride, pluralism, and purpose — held fast. In the days and weeks that followed, we leaned into our Jewishness. We stood with Israel. We created space for grief, for solidarity, for complex conversations. And just as importantly, we insisted on joy.

Because Jewish joy — especially in the shadow of antisemitism and violence — is not naïve. It is defiant. It is resilient. It is necessary.

We didn’t cancel our celebrations. We deepened them. We didn’t shrink our curriculum. We sharpened it. And through it all, our students felt what we hoped they would: that being Jewish is a gift, not a burden; a source of strength, not fear.

Looking Forward: The Work Ahead

Clarifying our Jewish mission didn’t conclude the work. It began it.

The next phase belongs to those who come next — to build upon the pluralistic adventure we’ve begun. To ensure that ritual deepens, that literacy expands, that connection grows, and that the joy of being Jewish at OJCS never dims, even when the world feels dark.

Pluralism is not easy. It never was. But we have shown that it is possible. That children can grow up learning that there are many authentic ways to be Jewish — and that what unites us is stronger than what divides us. That sacred disagreement can be a sacred gift. We model the Jewish value of machloket l’shem shamayim — argument for the sake of Heaven, i.e., disagreements that are principled, respectful, and in pursuit of truth rather than ego or power. [The origin of that phrase is Pirkei Avot 5:17.]

And that is the “J” we want our students to carry with them. Not just into high school, but into life.

Closing: Ivdu Et Hashem B’simcha

There’s a verse from Psalms (100:2) that has echoed in my mind throughout these years: “Ivdu et Hashem b’simcha — Serve God with joy.” Joy, not as an afterthought. Joy, as the path.

We’ve tried — in ways large and small — to make OJCS a place where Jewish joy is not only possible, but palpable. Where learning to chant Torah, or argue Talmud, or dance on Purim, or cry on Yom HaZikaron, are all expressions of what it means to live Jewishly.

And there’s something even deeper. The joy that comes from seeing a school where students with pe’ot and tzitzit sit at the same lunch tables as students who wear nail polish and identify as non-binary — and nobody flinches. The joy of a community that does not demand consensus to offer belonging. A place where “pluralism” isn’t just an aspiration, but a process.

This, I believe, is our true miracle. Not just that students learn how to lead tefillah — but that they learn how to lead lives of empathy, curiosity, and kavod. That they come to see disagreement not as a threat, but as an invitation to deeper relationship. At a time where polarisation and disunity is all around us, OJCS is the rare place where everyone not only has a seat at the table, but they are willing to come in and sit down together.

It has been the blessing of my professional life to walk this path with you. To look back and see how far we’ve come. To look forward and know that the best is yet to come.

The “J” in OJCS? It stands for joy. It stands for Judaism. And it stands for “just getting started”.

A Safe Haven for Jewish Joy

Our school has six North Stars—enduring values that guide us on our journey from where we are to becoming the best version of ourselves. While some of these values may overlap with those of other schools—Jewish or secular, independent or public—it’s the unique combination of these six that defines us. When we meet new families, we take care to describe our North Stars, sharing stories of how these values come alive in our classrooms, highlighting alumni who embody them in their successes, and helping families discern whether the Ottawa Jewish Community School is the right place to entrust their children’s education and Jewish journey. Different North Stars naturally resonate with different families in different seasons. But this season, one North Star feels especially profound.

We define the Hebrew word ruach as joyfulness or spirit, but neither translation fully captures its depth. At OJCS, ruach conveys something more—a sense of belonging and authenticity best exemplified by the atmosphere of a Jewish summer camp, where you can be your truest self. It’s in the warmth of our walls, the joy in our students’ smiles, and the energy in their singing. Ruach has always been central to who we are.

But in the aftermath of October 7th and the rise in anti-Semitism across schools and communities, ruach feels bigger than a guiding principle. It feels like a lifeboat. Because OJCS isn’t just a place where Jewish children can explore their identities—it has become one of the few places where they can do so freely and safely.

I know what you might be thinking. Truly, I do.

Post-October 7th, we’ve been cautious in emphasizing the value of Jewish day school. We understand that Jewish day school isn’t every family’s preferred choice. (I, myself, am a proud product of public school.) We know it may not be the best fit for every learner and that tuition, even with OJCS priced below other independent schools in our market and offering nearly $1 million in scholarships annually, is still a significant consideration. We respect all these factors.

At the same time, we must speak to the reality: it is critical—now, more than ever—that Jewish children have a place where they can express their full selves without fear or sanction. Celebrating Chanukah at OJCS isn’t a “trigger for genocide”; it’s a celebration of the miracle of Jewish existence. And that miracle could not feel more relevant or powerful in this time and place.

You don’t have to choose Jewish day school for your family. But let this Jewish day school be clear: we are here. We are open. We are safe. We are a place where Jewish children can live proud, joyful Jewish lives. And we are also preparing students for life beyond our walls. Our graduates excel as advocates for themselves, and their communities in high schools, and on university campuses. (It is no coincidence that Noah Shack, the new Interim President of CIJA, is an OJCS alumnus.)

If you’re curious about what makes us who we are, we’d love to show you. This year, we’re opening our annual “Taste of Middle School” to all students and families in Grades 5-7. Come visit us, see the spirit of ruach in action, and discover what OJCS is all about.

A Time to Be Counted

Here are the words I shared with Kitah Bet this morning in celebration of their Chaggigat Ha’Torah:

There is a time to count, like one does when counting one’s blessings, and there is a time to be counted, like one does when showing up for oneself, one’s family, and one’s community. Today is a rare opportunity to do both.

Today we celebrate the gift of Torah and in this week’s reading of it – in Parashat Bamidbar – we read about the census of the Israelites in the wilderness. This detailed counting of each tribe and individual highlights the significance of every member within the community. Each person’s unique role and contribution are recognized and valued. This notion resonates deeply with us today, as we witness the power of Jewish unity and collective strength in the face of recent challenges.

The tragic events of October 7th tested and continue to test our community in unimaginable ways. Yet, amidst the darkness, we have seen an extraordinary outpouring of support, solidarity, and resilience. There have been times when we have huddled together and counted our blessings, but also times when we have stood up and been counted as we rally and publicly #StandWithIsrael.

When we come together to celebrate our children’s first accomplishments in the study of Torah with the gift of Torah, we are not only honoring their individual achievements, but also reinforcing the bonds that tie us together as a community. Your choice to provide your children with a Jewish day school education is a powerful statement. It connects your children to the generations who came before, and to those yet to come. Your choice joins your family story to the larger Jewish story, honors our past, and secures our future through the learning and experiences you have made possible for their Jewish present. This choosing to be chosen, the unique nature of Jews who both have to and get to choose to be Jewish, feels so much more powerful this year in light of the world around us.

Our act of giving these sifrei torah to our children today is more than a ceremony; it is a reaffirmation of our commitment to Jewish continuity and resilience. Each time we gather as a community to study, read and celebrate Torah, we engage in a public act of Judaism that is itself a living expression of Torah. By showing up, by being present and publicly Jewish, we live our own torah and are counted within the Jewish People’s shared destiny of meaning. We demonstrate to our children that Judaism is not just a private faith, but a public declaration of who we are and what we stand for. Each act of Jewish learning, and each celebration we share is a thread woven into the fabric of our collective Jewish identity.

That is why, as was true with the siddur they received at the end of Kitah Alef, the Torah they receive at the end of Kitah Bet is not intended to be a trophy to sit upon a shelf, but a tool to continue the Jewish journey they are just beginning. It is our hope and our prayer that the work we have begun together as partners – parents and teachers; home and school – continues in the years ahead to provide our children with Jewish moments of meaning and Jewish experiences of consequence so that they can continue to receive and accept Torah in their own unique way, infused by a love of Judaism, informed by Jewish wisdom and aligned with Jewish values.

Ken y’hi ratzon.

Public Acts of Judaism Are a Prayer We Answer Ourselves

Here are the words I shared with Kitah Alef this morning in celebration of their Kabbalat Ha’Siddur:

One of the most profound gifts we can give our children is the sense of being part of something greater than themselves. The Hebrew word “siddur” comes from the root samech-dalet-reish, meaning “order.” The siddur represents the structured prayers that have connected generations of Jews throughout history. In the act of teaching our children to pray in Hebrew, we are linking them to a chain that stretches back to the beginning of the Bible and forward to future generations. Each day we do tefillah we help make l’dor v’dor a reality…

The events of October 7th have left an indelible mark on our community and our sense of security. In such times, the importance of community and the shared rituals that bind us become even more vital. The Torah teaches us, “And you shall teach them diligently to your children” (Deuteronomy 6:7). This mitzvah underscores our responsibility to pass down our traditions and values. Our act of giving these siddurim to our children today is more than a ceremony; it is a reaffirmation of our commitment to Jewish continuity and resilience.

Each time we gather as a community to celebrate our traditions, we engage in a public act of Judaism that is itself a form of prayer. By showing up, by being present and publicly Jewish, we answer our own prayers for a shared destiny of meaning. We demonstrate to our children that Judaism is not just a private faith, but a public declaration of who we are and what we stand for. Each act of Jewish learning and each celebration we share is a thread woven into the fabric of our collective Jewish identity.

Each day, our children present us – their parents and their teachers – with an opportunity to secure the Jewish future through our partnership. For parents, this is the sacred obligation we take on when deciding to have children. For teachers and schools, this is the holy task we are entrusted with when parents take the leap of faith to provide their children with a Jewish education. It is a responsibility that we do not take lightly or for granted. It is why a Kabbalat Ha’Siddur – why a celebration of receiving a siddur gifted by the school, decorated by the parents, and instructed by the teachers is so appropriate to mark this stage of our journey.

One of our school’s North Stars is that “we are all on inspiring Jewish journeys,” and the Kabbalat Ha’Siddur is just the next stop on a journey that, for many, began together under the chuppah on the first day of Kindergarten. My prayer for this class is that in the same way that the siddur we give them today is not a trophy to be admired on a shelf, but a tool to be used for discovery and meaning. Let today’s simchah not simply be an oasis of Jewish joy in a desert of a Jewish year, but confirmation of our collective indomitable spirit and a commitment to celebrate the next stop and the stop after that in the extraordinary and unpredictable Jewish journey of this remarkable group of children and families.

Ken y’hi ratzon.

The Siddur is a Time Machine

Here are the words I shared with Kitah Alef this morning in celebration of their Kabbalat Ha’Siddur:

A morning like this inspires a few thoughts about time…

Jewish time is a dance between the straight line of temporal life and a circle of sacred moments. On the one hand we move from one rite of passage to the next; our children are born, they take their first steps, they speak their first words, they make their first friends, they attend their first day of school, and one day they receive their first siddur. On the other hand, we return and revisit waystations of meaning – Shabbat comes each week, Rosh Chodesh comes each month, holidays and festivals come each year – and each year Kitah Alef receives their first siddurim. For those of you for whom this is not your first Kabbalat Ha’Siddur you are sitting in both spaces – for your child it is the next stage of their trek through life; as a parent you are returning to a sacred family moment. I believe that part of the magic of living a Jewish life is to recognize and to celebrate when and where this line and this circle intersect.

One of our school’s North Stars is that “we are all on inspiring Jewish journeys” and the Kabbalat Ha’Siddur is a significant stop on a journey that began together under the chuppah on the first days of Junior and Senior Kindergarten. But by linking this moment to Tefillah – to prayer – we are teaching our children and, perhaps, reminding ourselves of an important idea. For all the reasons we can and do pray – to express gratitude, to connect to community, to be part of a chain in history, to offer petition, to engage in mindfulness, to talk to God, to take an opportunity to measure ourselves against our best selves, etc. – perhaps the idea that links them together is that it forces us to zoom out and appreciate the twin journeys a Jewish life represents. You are about to sing Adon Olam with your child on the day of his or her Kabbalat Ha’Siddur, using the Siddur our school gifts you, covered with the love you put into its decoration. You have likely sung Adon Olam before and will likely sing Adon Olam again. Those words will be the same. But you and your children will not. Adon Olam will forever be linked with this moment and who you were at this time.

We give our students – your children – the gift of a Siddur not to be a trophy, but to be a tool. And this tool will hopefully serve many purposes on the journey forward. But I also believe this Siddur is more than a tool for prayer literacy, it is also a compass, if not a time machine, for the Jewish journey of your children and your family. Each time you open it, you are everyone you were up until that point, with all the memories and experiences that came with you. You read the same words with different eyes and, thus, they elicit different meanings. When my daughters led services at their Bat Mitzvahs they used the siddurim they received in Kitah Alef. And when my older one goes off to university next year, she’ll add that siddur to her bookshelf.

My prayer for this class, and for you, is that the siddur we gift you today serves as a reminder of -and a guide for – the extraordinary and unpredictable Jewish journey ahead. A journey that our school is honoured to share whilst entrusted with the sacred task of educating this wonderful group of children. As we share our gift with you, thank you for the gift you have given us with your trust. Mazal tov to us and mazal tov to you.

“Remember” With Your Mouth; “Don’t Forget” In Your Heart

This week we commemorated Yom HaShoah – the day set aside on the Jewish Calendar for remembering (and not forgetting) the horrible events of the Holocaust. And we are urged Zachor! – Remember! – because it is understood that through remembrance we help ensure the other commonly used expression for this holiday, that events like the Holocaust are Never Again! – not just for the Jewish People, but for humanity. We must Not Forget! what took place.

I’ve always struggled with the curious distinction Judaism makes between the command “to remember” and the command “to never forget”. In Deuteronomy 25:17, we are commanded to “Remember what Amalek” did to the Israelites. In Deuteronomy 25:19, we commanded to both wipe out Amalek’s descendents and to “not forget” Amalek’s atrocities. Isn’t “remembering” and “not forgetting” the same thing? Why does the Torah choose different words for expressing the same idea?

And then I came across this explanation from the Mishneh Torah

מִפִּי הַשְּׁמוּעָה לָמְדוּ זָכוֹר בַּפֶּה לֹא תִּשְׁכָּח בַּלֵּב
The Oral Tradition teaches, ‘Remember’ with your mouths; ‘Don’t Forget’ in your hearts. – Mishneh Torah, Kings & Wars 5:5

According to this text, the difference between “remembering” and “not forgetting” isn’t definitional, it is pedagogical. And bearing witness to how our current students and alumni commemorated Yom HaShoah this week, in our school, in our community, and in Poland, reinforces once again the unique responsibility and opportunity Jewish day school represents in the lives of our students and families.

Our Grade 8s study the Holocaust as part of their curriculum, but it is not an exclusively academic pursuit. As part of the program, they regularly engage with survivors and the children of survivors throughout the year. That is infinitely more powerful than any one-time ceremony, but knowing that did not diminish the power of watching them participate in our community’s Yom HaShoah Commemoration on Monday night by helping facilitate the candle-lighting ceremony. While there, I bumped into a parent with both alumni and current students. She shared with me that her daughter, along with two other alumni in her grade, are currently on the March of the Living. She also shared that those three, all of whom had leadership roles in their small Jewish day school while in Grade 8, are poised to have leadership roles in their large secular private school while in Grade 11. She attributed both those developments – March of the Living and student leadership – to, yes, the home as primary educator, but also to the school where those ideas and actions are nourished, encouraged, and experienced.

And as much as I hate to use my own children as any kind of example (I almost NEVER do), I must say that on Tuesday, while our OJCS Grade 8s led our school’s Yom HaShoah Assembly, and our entire Middle School bussed to Israeli Embassy for our nation’s Yom HaShoah Commemoration, and then bussed back for a special interview with a local survivor, my older daughter was leading the first-ever Yom HaShoah Assembly at the public high school she attends. That assembly’s existence is entirely due to my daughter’s having lobbied her school’s administration. Her ability to advocate with her principal and her ability to facilitate an assembly are both directly attributable to what she gained by attending Jewish day school(s).

Remembering with our hearts is something that happens inside of us. We learn, we experience, we reflect and we feel. Not forgetting with our mouths puts action into the world. We speak, we do, we lead and we make something happen. Both are required to perfect the world. The Talmud states, “Great is study for it leads to action” (Kiddushin 40b). But is the reverse not true as well? Is it not true that action leads to study? And isn’t both at the same time the most ideal? And isn’t that what Jewish Day School is about at its most aspirational? That our students study and then put their learning into action to make the world a better place? That our students have lots of opportunity to make the world a better place and are then inspired to learn more?

I know that one primary audience for this blog is (always) current parents in my current school, but there are others. And I know that Jewish Day School will never be the preferred destination for all. And I know that not all my current students began their journeys at the beginning, and not all will stay in Jewish day school through graduation. And I know that there are all kinds reasons why that is true. And I know that each time I come out swinging too hard, I run the risk of reading as preachy or judgy.

And yet.

I also know why I implore families to attend an OJCS Graduation long before their children reach Grade 8. It is the same reason why I encourage families to read blogs and blogfolios of children in older grades. It is the same reason why we invited alumni to speak to Grade 5 Families this year.

It is why I will forever share my heart and use my voice in the service of Jewish day school. Weeks like this one and the ones to follow are why we should both remember and not forget the gifts that Jewish day schools give their students – gifts that give back to families, to schools, and to community.

As we are currently in the throes of admissions, where we have every reason to believe that we will see our school grow for a sixth consecutive year; where we move forward with our journey towards CAIS accreditation (joining only Elmwood and Ashbury from the Ottawa independent school community), where we stand poised this summer to execute the first phase of a (now) $2 million renovation to help make our physical facility as innovative and excellent as our program – let me close by thanking all the parents who entrust us with their precious children; our teachers who pour their passion into their sacred and holy work; our volunteers who give of their most valued commodity, time; our community led by our most important partner and donor the Jewish Federation of Ottawa; and our donors who give of their treasure in addition to their time and wisdom. Special thanks to all those who have joined our Life & Legacy Circle, who have ensured their legacies through securing our school’s.

The roller coaster of this holiday season has its ups and downs; may the trajectory of our school, thanks to so many, continue l’eilah u’leilah – higher and higher.

The Transparency Files: Reasonable Assumptions & Known Unknowns

With report cards largely written, we are squarely in that time of year where we are leaning into joy and celebrating community. This year more than ever, where people’s bandwidth for online learning is less and less by the day, please know that we don’t just understand (or have plenty of empathy!), but that we are doing whatever we can to provide your children with however many doses of positivity as we can however often we see them. Today is a great example. Despite its virtual nature, our Harry Potter-themed “Maccabiah 2021” was a wonderful day of ruach that hopefully makes another day of at-home learning a little more bearable with summer achingly within reach.

As we prepare for the final seven-and-a-half days of school, in addition to online joy we hope to spark, please be on the lookout for your child(ren)’s cohort(s)’s announcement about “Popsicles, Pals & Pickups”! This is our response to the province’s allowance for a final in-person gathering for all grades. We have received our guidelines and we will be creating a schedule for each cohort – most likely during the final week – to come back to school, to spend time together in person to properly wrap up the year, to return library books and other school materials, and to pick up yearbooks and personal belongings. More details will come from your teacher(s), stay tuned!

Here, in my little slice of the blogosphere, I, too, am winding down for summer. Today, I would like to share with you some preliminary thoughts about how we are preparing for next year. That leaves with me two additional posts before I go on a bit of a hiatus for summer. I will share out my words to this year’s graduating class and I have one final “Transparency Files” post in which we will announce the 2021-2022 OJCS Faculty & Staff.

We have received very little questioning about next year, which could be for all kinds of reasons. No need to speculate here. But I thought it would be helpful for parents to be aware of what reasonable assumptions we are using to plan for next year and what are our “known unknowns”. If either leave with you with questions or concerns, as always, please do be in touch.

Reasonable Assumptions

With the reasonable expectation that every adult who works in the building will be fully vaccinated by the start of the school year, we are not planning for either a hybrid or hyflex learning program next year. We expect to fully return to in-person learning.
It may be true in some grades for some subjects, however, that a child who is home sick next year could participate virtually or work asynchronously on planned lessons. However, our teachers will not be expected to produce fully hyflexed schedules and assignments at all times.
We are planning for the return of regular PE and Tefillah as they would no longer constitute “high risk” activities.
We assume enhanced cleaning protocols will carry over in some fashion.

Known Unknowns

We have no current guidance as to whether or not the province and/or public health will have any masking guidelines (in any grades) or social distancing requirements.
We cannot yet say whether or not multigrade experiences, whether they be as simple as recess or as complicated as the “Sukkah Hop” – with everything in between (like assemblies) – are returning next year. Ditto for the Middle School Retreat, the Grade 8 Trip, and field trips. We are planning for them all to return, but we don’t know yet for sure.
We don’t know if we will need to continue to utilize three different entrances and maintain separate access to washrooms and water fountains.

These are just initial thoughts as we wait for the province to provide us with the official guidelines for safe reopening. As was true last year, we will – of course – send a detailed email to all our parents when we have a clearer picture. But for now, as we do our best to put at-home learning to bed for the 2020-2021 school year, we can also look forward to a return to in-person learning for the 2021-2022 school year…and that feels great!

While we wait to announce the full faculty for next year, we do – here – want to share out that our own Linda Signer will be retiring after many years of quality teaching at OJCS when this school year closes. It has become a recent tradition to publicly celebrate retiring teachers with a “Retirement Tea” where we bring back former teachers and students, as well as inviting current staff, families and students to share in the moment. We don’t believe this lends itself properly to a virtual context, so we will be celebrating Ms. Signer’s retirement at the end of next school year when we can do it properly. However, those of you who know her and want to wish her well as she prepares to enjoy the next phase of her life are more than welcome to do so over these next weeks.

Choosing Ottawa Again: Writing My First Second Chapter

Not once in my career have I had the pleasure of welcoming children into school in Kindergarten, watching them grow and mature, creating lasting and meaningful relationships, and then graduating them while shepping naches at what and who they have become.

I have been in the field of Jewish day school since 2005 and the field of Jewish education since 1997. In those 23 years of full-time work, I spent three years at the BJE-LA, three years at the Old Westbury Hebrew Congregation, two years at Sutton Place Synagogue, five years at the Solomon Schechter Day School-Las Vegas (SSDS-LV), four years at the Martin J. Gottlieb Day School (MJGDS), two years at the Schechter Day School Network, one year at Prizmah and I am in my fourth year here at OJCS.

Notice any trends?

I believe deeply in the human need to make meaning through stories and narratives and, thus, have always framed my career (and life) in terms of the chapters I have been able to co-author in the places I have been lucky enough lead. These chapters have had differing lengths and different degrees of consequence, and those two things are not always so aligned. I was the founding head of the SSDS-LV (z”l). That was pretty significant for both me and the school. My time at MJGDS was an extraordinary time of innovation and change -again both for me and the school. I was the first – and last – director of an independent Schechter Day School Network (also z”l). I was part of an amazing team of colleagues who helped birth Prizmah. The work we are presently doing at OJCS in my first chapter here has been well-chronicled in this blog and thanks to an extraordinary team has exceeded all expectations.

The last time I wrote a “life transition” post, I had described my career as a series of “happy accidents” and I still stand by it, at least broadly speaking. There is a lot of luck that goes into building a career. There is also a lot of risk. I have been fortunate that throughout most of my career, the choices have been mine to make and that when choices needed to be made, wonderful choices were available to choose. That isn’t always true in this profession and timing is everything. But to describe my career as a series of “accidents” is also a bit of a dodge. It absolves me of the choices that I did in fact make along the way and the impact of those choices on the schools/organizations and communities that I left behind, not to mention on my wife and children.

This career didn’t just happen to me. I largely made it happen and I am responsible for all the good, all the regret, all the accomplishments, all the unmet and unfulfilled expectations, all the extraordinary relationships, all the hurt feelings, and so on. And that’s just the professional impact. My children have had to move schools and start over more than once. My wife has had to reestablish herself in school after school, and here in Ottawa to reinvent herself altogether.

Why have I never stayed long enough to write even a second chapter?

Ego, ambition and wanderlust.

There is value in having an ego and ambition. They drive you towards achievement and success. They require you to learn lots and to work hard. And to be clear, I don’t begrudge anyone – including myself – for having ambition. When success begets success and that next bigger or more complex opportunity arises, there is nothing wrong with going for it. However, ego and ambition can also be dangerous, especially when they become ends and not means. If you are constantly looking towards the next shiny thing, it makes it really hard to appreciate and enjoy what you presently have. Ego also cuts both way. It is not a sign of stable ego if you are easily seduced by every new opportunity; it is the opposite. It is a fragile ego that needs to feel important and who reduces success to simple metrics (How big is the school? How prominent? How large the salary?). It is also a sign of a fragile ego to put your professional ambition ahead of your family’s quality of life. I have been that guy. I have chased the ring. I have picked up the phone. I have asked my family to sacrifice their peace of mind on the altar of my ambition.

I am also someone who is attracted to the unique challenges of the start-up or the fixer-up, which also explains my career trajectory. I have only really ever worked in places that were starting up or starting over. I thrive in bringing order to chaos. I do less well when order starts to take shape. The simple truth is that I love to write first chapters. That’s where a lot of the action takes place and the stories start to take shape.

But I am not the person I was five, ten and fifteen years ago. What matters to me most and the kind of stories I want to write have (finally) evolved. And so today, I am thrilled to share with you that after having worked with my board these last few months, that we have chosen here – the Ottawa Jewish Community School, the Ottawa Jewish Community and Ottawa itself – to finally write that second chapter. For reasons related to my housing situation – and because round numbers are awesome – we will be tearing up the fifth and final year of my current contract and will replace it with a new contract that will keep us here at least five more years.

Why now and why here?

I can give all kinds of personal and family reasons. My wife and children deserve some stability after 7 moves in 20 years. My daughters deserve an opportunity to go through adolescence without the added stress of reinvention. We believe that Ottawa (and Canada) is an ideal place to raise teenage girls in what is already a complicated and sometimes dangerous world. We have found a neighborhood and support system that facilitates our observant Jewish lifestyle. We think it will be wonderful for our children (and us) to eventually become dual citizens and for our children to have all the added opportunities (affordable and excellent universities!) that come with it. We are still just beginning to get to know this city, province and country, but from what we have experienced thus far we feel comfortable and safe and happy here. For those reasons alone, why wouldn’t we want to stay?

But please don’t think that I am simply settling. Just because there are compelling personal reasons to stay doesn’t mean that professionally I am simply content to settle. I may be slightly more mature, but I still carry lots of ambition. This is not simply a personal decision; this is a business decision as well.

Professionally, I am as happy as I ever have been. There were lots of challenges behind us and lots of challenges ahead of us (no chance of getting bored here!). If my first chapter was about helping guide the school from a state of emergency to a state of stability, the next chapter will be about moving from stability to sustainability. Please don’t think that my ambition about what can be true in Jewish day school has been lowered. I still believe that Jewish day schools are/can/should be leading the educational (r)evolution and I know that OJCS is on the vanguard. Our goal here at OJCS is to be the best school and even if we have not achieved it yet, we are definitely on our way.

I am blessed to work with a talented and growing administrative team, a gifted and dedicated teaching faculty, a strategic and nurturing board, supportive and committed donors, collaborative and creative institutional colleagues and a Jewish Federation that works hard to ensure that no one is left off the Jewish Superhighway. Are there bigger and more prominent schools and Jewish communities? Yes. Are there schools with more resources? Yes. Does that mean that OJCS cannot become an innovative leader amongst Jewish day schools or Ottawan private schools? Absolutely not. The future of education is being written right here. I am humbled to know that I will have a continuing hand in its authorship.

In the end, when faced with having to make a choice, the choice was clear.

I choose family. I choose community. I choose unlimited possibilities. I choose innovation and excellence. I choose the Jewish future. I choose this school with these administrators and these teachers and these families and this board and these donors and these volunteers and this Jewish community. I choose this time and this place to write a first second chapter.

I choose Ottawa.

The Grit to Graduate: My Charge to the Coronavirus Class of 2020

Over a decade ago, academic and psychologist Angela Duckworth released her first paper on the notion of grit and its application to education. In both her TED Talk and her book, Duckworth defines grit as “a combination of passion and perseverance for a singularly important goal” that is a key ingredient for high achievement, not only in school, but in life. If there was ever an adjective that described this year it would be “grit”. And if there was ever a class who could successfully, not only survive, but thrive in a school year complicated by COVID, it would be this (first) Coronavirus Class of 2020.

But let me first pivot back towards two other critical partners in grit and resilience…

The Perseverance of Parents

The path of small Jewish day schools is not always an easy one to tread. Parents find their way into Jewish day schools for all kinds of highly personal reasons – personalized attention, family atmosphere, a deep commitment to Jewish Studies, or even just going where everyone else happened to be going that year. We also know that parents find their out of Jewish day schools for all kinds of highly personal reasons as well. We are not here to stand in judgement of those who opted out; we are here to stand in praise of those who persevered to opt in – year after year. Jewish day school comes at a high price, and that price is not just financial. There are many in this room who have sacrificed luxuries and necessities to reach this day. All in this room have sacrificed their most precious gift – time – in service of their children’s academic and Jewish journey. A year like this one sharpens both points. COVID-19 has not only strained families’ pocketbooks, but even with extraordinarily self-directed Grade 8 students, the transition to distance learning has strained families’ living spaces, devices, time, and patience (not to mention wifi!).

We believe that a night like tonight validates those choices, those sacrifices and proves the power of perseverance.

The Passion of Teachers

Teachers make a school and we never saw greater proof of that than during this most unusual of school years. When I think of all the reasons why our school was able to so successfully transition to distance learning for the last third of the school year, I would place their passion at the top of the list. “Passion” marks the spot where teachers move from good to great and where teaching moves from occupation to calling. Passion for students means that relationships become prioritized and through relationships the magic of learning is amplified. Passion for learning means lifelong learning and through lifelong learning comes new and innovative practices, pedagogies and platforms. Passion for community means choosing to work and stay in a school that may not have all the bells and whistles, but does have all the heart and soul, and through community we become family. Passion is why graduation is not only an opportunity to acknowledge the Grade 8 Teachers, but a moment to celebrate all the teachers whose collaborations and contributions over time come together to create a class.

We believe that a night like tonight rewards those relationships, lauds that learning, commemorates community and proves the power of passion.

The Grit of Graduates

“A combination of passion and perseverance for a singularly important goal” really makes an apt description of the OJCS Class of 2020. That “singularly important goal” is different for each one of you and it has changed and grown as you have changed and grown. But what I have seen firsthand from you each – and know secondhand from all your teachers – is that you bring these unique qualities of passion and perseverance to your individual work, your group projects and your class commitments. You bring them to your academic challenges and you bring them to your extracurricular opportunities. You bring them to your varying Jewish commitments and you bring them to your many expressions of community service and social justice.

And all of that would have been true in the most normal of years. This year, however, was of course far from normal. Like so many others, this year’s Grade 8 has had to sacrifice moments and memories as planned events became unplanned experiments. We have, of course, done our best to be creative and go virtual in order to provide with you as many of the capstone experiences as we could, but we know they aren’t the same. But it is here, too, where you have shown your grit and your character. You have hung together, you’ve made your lemonade from lemons, and you have come through the other side with your bonds as tight as ever.

We believe that a night like tonight confirms your character and projects the promise of your potential, and, thus proves the promise of grit.

Our OJCS “North Star” Prayer

Our prayer for you as you graduate and head out into the world is that you come to experience and embody our school’s North Stars; that you continue to point in their direction as you continue to grow and develop into high school and beyond…

“Have a floor, but not a ceiling” – be your best self. Have high expectations at a minimum and unlimited aspirations at a maximum. We hope you learned at OJCS to be comfortable in your own skin and to carry that confidence with you when you head out into the wider world.

“Ruach” – be joyful. School – and life – is supposed to be fun, even when it may seem hard or have difficult moments, like a global pandemic. We hope you had many moments of joy at OJCS and that you have many more moments of joy in the years to come.

“We own our own learning” – learning isn’t something that happens to you, it is something you choose. We hope you take the sense of ownership for your learning that we strive towards at OJCS into your next schools of choice and that you not merely be satisfied with gathering information, but that you take a growing sense of responsibility for what you learn and how you learn.

“We are each responsible one to the other” – make the world a better place. Take what you’ve learned (Torah) and do great deeds (Mitzvot); do great deeds and be inspired to learn more.

“We learn better together” – we are stronger and more successful together than we can be alone. Judaism has always been communitarian in this way and what is old is new again as we live in a world where collaboration is not simply advantageous, but required.

“We are on our own inspiring Jewish journey” – keep choosing Jewish. One can argue that the next years of your Jewish lives are more important than the ones you are celebrating tonight. In your own ways – continue. Whether that is in formal Jewish learning, youth group, summer camps, Israel, synagogue attendance, social action – you are no more fully formed Jewishly at your Grade 8 graduation than you were at Bar or Bat Mitzvah. We pray that you build on this foundation and that you embrace the Jewish journey that continues after tonight.

In closing, know that you each are blessed more than you realize. But do not ever be content to merely count your blessings. Be someone who makes their blessings count.