How to Write a Mission Statement that Isn't Dumb

Chevre,

Many people, including me, have expressed some skepticism about the use of Twitter for educational purposes.  I have multiple Twitter accounts and rarely use them for such "high level" activity.  But much has been written about the added value of using Twitter for education, including conferences.

So, I am asking you to volunteer to be part of an experiment that focuses around a Limmud session at next week's Annual Conference of the Alliance for Continuing Rabbinic Education (ACRE).  Rabbi Shai Gluskin is going to facilitate a Limmud session focusing on a provocative text from Bava Batra 21.  Rest assured that the primary method of text study at the Conference will be one that has shown its effectiveness for 2,000 years--hevruta. But we want to see the potential value that Twitter can provide by adding more voices to the discussion than are normally heard.

That is where you come in.  We invite you to read the text and tweet your responses to the questions in advance of the Conference.  To find the text and questions, go to the Limmud tab in the 2009 ACRE Conference section of the ACRE website (www.allianceforcre.org).

For veteran tweeters, please use the hashtag "acrecon."  For those of you who did not understand the instructions in the last sentence, please go to the Bava Batra and Twitter tab in the 2009 ACRE Conference section of the ACRE website for basic instructions about the use of Twitter.  It's actually very simple to do.

So, please help us out in this experiment.  I look forward to sharing the results with you.

Moadim L'Simcha

 

Chevre,

The Jewish calendar dictates that we spend some of our time in serious introspection before and during the Yamim Noraim.  It seems like such an easy assignment.  All we have to do is figure out what we did wrong last year, try to make amends to those we may have harmed, and resolve to work on changing those negative behaviours in the upcoming year.  If it is so easy to do, why do we go through the same routine every year and why haven't I made the obvious, needed changes ?:)

This blog focuses on the theme of change, primarily how to facilitate it, in a "normal" environment.  This last year was not "normal!"  Most Jewish organizations were forced to make significant, difficult changes to their organizations with less than desired time to contemplate which changes were needed and how to implement them.  Many people felt lost in this tidal wave of bad, economic news.

But a new year is almost upon us.  Summer has intervened.  The Dow Jones is up 10.8% for the year.  The Avi Chai day school census shows an overall growth in day school enrollment.  Fewer day schools closed than some predicted.  More scholarship money was found than thought possible.

I, in no way, am trying to minimize the human and institutional suffering that we have endured.  Many talented, outstanding individuals have lost their jobs and not all have found new employment. The months of pain seemed like years.  But my question for you is, "Where are we today?" 

In the confines of my office talking to a few Jewish educational leaders around the country, this is what I am sensing in the broadest of terms.   It appears that the "worst is over."  People have resigned themselves to their current situations and are trying to figure out how to make them work.  Morale, which sunk to its nadir, is crawling upward.  People are seeing "good signs" in places where none existed six months ago.  There is a new enthusiasm for "the calling" of Jewish education.

Please let me/us know how things are progressing for you and your institutions.  Are my perceptions totally "missing the mark?" The more comments we get, the richer a snapshot we will collect. 

To all of you and your families, a Shana Tovah U'Metukah.

I am pleased to post a copy of this article written by our colleague, Dr. Jonathan S. Woocher Chief Ideas Officer, JESNA and Director, Lippman Kanfer Institute. The growing burden of day school tuitions has, as Gary Rosenblatt recently noted, ironically focused new attention on supplementary Jewish education. Families who firmly believe in the value of day school education, but are now facing virtually insurmountable challenges trying to pay for it, are wondering whether it is possible to find at least some of what they seek for their children in revamped, intensive supplementary programs. They join many other families with children already in such programs, and others trying to decide whether to enroll their children at all, in asking whether supplementary education can provide a meaningful and satisfying Jewish educational experience. It’s a good question, and an important one for these families and the future of the Jewish community as a whole. First, the good news: The last two decades have seen a growing movement across North America to improve and even transform supplementary Jewish education. National and local initiatives have mushroomed and have become increasingly sophisticated and effective in helping synagogues – the primary providers of supplementary education – create more dynamic, engaging, and impactful programs for educating children and families. A number of alternative models quite different from the “Hebrew schools” we’ve come to know and often hate have been implemented, some by synagogues, some by other types of educational entrepreneurs. The New York Jewish community has been the setting for some of the most ambitious efforts to “re-imagine” congregational education, and will be the beneficiary of even more extensive initiatives in the future. Nonetheless, the vast majority of the efforts we have seen thus far suffer from one serious limitation: they start with the producers of supplementary education, not its consumers, as their primary focus. Here’s why this is a problem: The “market” for Jewish education today is diverse and growing more so. Research confirms that parents want to be active choosers of the type of Jewish education their children will receive. The current system provides some options (the big choice being between full-time (day school) and part-time (supplementary) Jewish education). But, when we look at the options currently available within the supplementary domain, we find that there are not as many as a first glance might indicate. Yes, there are many synagogues offering supplementary programs, but these turn out to be largely variations on a theme. For good and sensible reasons, synagogues by and large offer programs that cover a pretty standard curriculum (holidays, Torah study, prayer, Jewish values, some history, and rudimentary Hebrew) in roughly similar ways. Looked at up close, there are certainly important differences in specific content, program organization, and teaching. But, compared with the range of possible foci and emphases, the vast majority of today’s programs occupy a relatively narrow niche – one that serves well an important segment of the overall potential market for Jewish education, but still leaves substantial populations that are either poorly served (the education doesn’t really match what they seek) or unserved altogether (a significant number of children get no Jewish education at all). Take our day school family now seeking an intensive supplementary program, perhaps one that meets 8 or 10 hours per week, rather than the typical 4 or 5, that emphasizes serious Hebrew literacy, either for purposes of conversation or text study in the original. Or, take a very different, but not uncommon family whose Jewishness is primarily cultural, not religious, or focused on social justice and activism. Perhaps the family has a child who is passionate and gifted in the arts and wants to approach her or his Jewish learning through this lens. Perhaps the family is an interfaith one, and seeks a Jewish educational program that is uniquely sensitive to their life issues. With effort, some of these families might be able to find a suitable supplementary program (they exist, but not everywhere). But, wouldn’t it be far better if they didn’t have to work so hard? What it would take is an approach to providing supplementary education that is market-driven and community-coordinated. Such an approach would begin by “mapping” the current landscape – what does the market look like, who is being well-served, where do gaps exist, what programs already exist, what assets are available to develop new programs. Then it would set out, working with existing providers and potential new ones, to build a “system” that would offer as many high quality options as the market can support. Such an approach would not in any way displace synagogues from their roles as primary providers – though it might free them to think creatively about new ways to configure their programs, e.g., several congregations combining to operate a set of magnet schools with different curricular emphases or meeting times that would be available to all their members. Nor would this approach make less necessary or valuable the work taking place today aimed at helping providers ensure that they deliver the highest quality Jewish learning experiences. What it would do is enable us to engage more children and families in Jewish learning, with greater satisfaction, and with greater impact. At the end of the day, that has to be our goal. At JESNA, we believe that every family that wants to send its children to a quality day school should be able to do so. And, we want the same for those choosing supplementary education. It will take some creative thinking and a lot of collaboration. But, it’s doable, and we’re working now with our partners in central agencies across North America to make that vision a reality.

Just recently published, Learning and Community - Jewish Schools in the Twenty-first Century is the ethnographic study of ten supplementary Jewish schools that deliver a "reasonably effective Jewish education,"  edited by Jack Wertheimer.  It is the follow-up to and a deeper,  fuller description of the 10 schools that formed the basis for Wertheimer's, "Schools that Work:What We Can Learn from Good Jewish Supplementary Schools 2009."  One chapter I found particularly interesting was the one that described "Tikvah Synagogue."

"Tikvah Synagogue" is the one small school (enrollment around 50) in the study.  The statistic that surprised me the most about Wertheimer's recent supplementary school census was that almost 60% of supplementary schools have fewer than 100 students.  Honestly, this was a "red flag" for me since in the 19 years that I served as an educational director I never ran a school with fewer than 300 students, and when the numbers dropped that "low" there was much concern.  How do/can small schools sustain themselves and provide a good education?  And if the number of small schools is growing, what do we need to do to ensure their success?

Susan Shevitz and Marion Gribetz suggest that there is much that can be learned from their in-depth observation of "Tikvah."   They argue that instead of seeing "smallness" as a liability, it can be a potential asset.   They argue that congregations and schools can exploit their size so that:

• "People, both young and old, are known to others and a sense of caring pervades the environment;
• Everyone matters and people feel a sense of personal responsibility
• Individuals' knowledge and talents are used to teach others; and
• Everyone feels a stake in the community."

"Tikvah" decided to become a "Shabbat community" and Shevitz and Gribetz argue that this response was based on pragmatism and religious idealism.  It served the community's educational needs by demonstrating the centrality of prayer, learning and community in Jewish life.  And this congregation resisted the pressure (and its inability) to teach "everything."  Most of the pieces of their curriculum cohere, especially since Shabbat is neither theoretical nor occasional to the students.

 Other keys to success in "Tikvah" include the following:

• It values sophisticated knowledge, usable skills and enduring understandings.
• It promotes education for today as well as for the future
• Jewish living and learning are valued by others 

This is not to imply that "Tikvah" does not have its challenges (Read the book to see them detailed).  What I find most interesting is that this particular school has been able to "succeed" by capitalizing on its small size but that its areas of success are the same ones that so many large schools try to reach, often unsuccessfully.

I found this chapter heartening and thought-provoking.  I now turn to you and ask you to let me know about the successes and challenges of small schools in your community.