My Story 3

The members of Bnei Akiva went to day schools. I was odd man out; no knowledge of Talmud, halachah, or even Hebrew, other than being able to sound words out, with no understanding of what they meant. I was in tenth grade (having skipped 8th), and was in my second year of learning a foreign language; French. I loved French (and still do), but I desperately wanted to learn Hebrew. I requested the right to drop French, and take Hebrew, which was also offered at my school. My request was denied. I went to the school's Hebrew Language instructor, Mr. Moskowitz. I told him of my dilemma. He agreed to do something illegal, which might have well cost him his job. He had a first semester Hebrew class at the same time as my lunch period. He said I could cut lunch, secretly take that class, and study ahead, so as to complete the material of a year and a half of Hebrew instruction in that one semester. I was successful, and Mr. Moskowitz convinced the school to allow me to start fourth semester Hebrew, along with fourth semester French. I graduated with honors in both. My knowledge of Hebrew enabled me to read actual sources, instead of relying on teachers to spoon-feed them to me, often with their own agendas being read into the text. (This is often a problem with translated texts as well). I had begun attending Shabbat morning services at the Bnei Akiva building. One snowy Shabbat, I couldn't make the longish walk to Bnei Akiva, so I went to a "shtiebel" (tiny, rather informal, prayer room) near my home. I was the only English speaker there; all the others being Yiddish speakers who had arrived in the U.S. after the war, some 20 years earlier. My Hebrew was rudimentary, to say the least. It took me nearly half an hour to say the Amidah prayer. One elderly gentleman was impressed by my determination. "Where do you learn (Torah)?" he asked me. "I don't learn". "Do you want to?" I grew excited "of course!!!!". "Meet me here tomorrow at 9 am". The following morning, he took me to 770 Eastern Parkway, the Lubavitcher (Chabad) world headquarters. They had just begun a Sunday learning schedule for young men who were interested in becoming observant. The program was tiny; only five students and three rabbis! I was taken to the administrator of the program, who accepted me, at no cost, to my first authentic Torah learning experience. Every Sunday, there was a class in Chumash with Rashi, a basic Talmud class, a class in halachah, and a class in Tanya; the foundation text of Chabad Hasidism. I loved everything, but the Tanya was my first experience with concepts of spirituality. Already at the first class, I could hardly contain my enthusiasm. My parents were less than enthusiastic, as I would be learning from Old World types. The expression "Zitzen un Lernen" (sit and study), so admired in Orthodox circles, seemed like a formula for laziness and lack of productivity to the "modern" American mindset. My teachers were savvy. It was the time when the Vietnam War, so unpopular in New York even at that time, was heating up. One of my cousins had recently been killed in Vietnam. "We can keep him out of Vietnam!" explained the rabbis. That was all my parents needed to hear! They were now on board with my nascent transformation. I was closely connected with Chabad for the next eleven years. Some things were beyond wonderful. Some things turned out to be disappointing, or even downright negative. But one thing is certain, without them I would not have made it. There simply were no other avenues at that time for a fairly assimilated Jew to penetrate the walls of the Yeshiva. I have never disclosed these things publicly before, (the members of the Chabad community in a nearby town have told me that they think I must secretly be Chabad, or how else would I know all their secrets!) but I think that these things need to be said in order to understand some of the dynamics of the Orthodox community, and which resources are good for which problems and challenges. I still admire much of their work, but also recognize areas of danger. I realize that some of you will be offended by my criticisms, but I would be remiss in not sharing what I have experienced, both the light and the darkness.