The Key to Success in Education - Rabbi Naftali Rot shlita

00:02 Speaker 1 You’re listening to “Lema’an Yishme’u,” a podcast from Machon Halacha Chabad.

00:09 Speaker 2 Our topic is the key to success in education. To find the right key, we need to clarify three things for ourselves, and we can learn them from Waze, from GPS. The Baal Shem Tov taught us that we should learn a lesson in serving Hashem from everything. Waze has a lesson for us in educating children, and it has many nice features. I listen to it every day. But there are three main things. First, to succeed, I need to know the destination. If I don’t know the destination, I can’t know whether I’ve succeeded. I need to know where I want to go, and then I can look for the key to getting there. So we have to define the destination clearly and precisely. The second thing Waze teaches us is patience and consistency. Anyone who’s ever driven with Waze knows it doesn’t leave you alone—but in a very pleasant way—until you reach your destination. You start driving and it tells you, “In another three hundred meters, turn right.” You keep driving. It keeps giving you directions, reminding you all the time that we’re heading toward a destination, and doing it patiently. That’s the second thing. Without it, we won’t get there. The third, very important thing: Made a mistake? Don’t give up. We recalculate the route. If we have these three things, at least I know what I’m aiming for. So the question is: What is our destination in education? What counts as success? Some people say that success in education means a child who is obedient and compliant. He does everything he’s told. He doesn’t ask why, and he completes every task he’s given. The question we’re asking is: Is that really the goal of successful education? Some children like that may indeed stay on the path, but the question is whether he has internalized it. Is he happy to do it? Does he want

02:43 Speaker 2 to do it, or was he forced? There’s a well-known story, a parable, that illustrates this: the dancing bear. I don’t know whether the audience has heard of the dancing bear, but in our yeshiva, the teachers of mussar would always use it. The experts managed to train the bear so that when they played music, it would start dancing. That was their greatest success; that was their goal—to make the bear dance. But how did they actually train the bears to dance? They did something simple. When the bears were still small cubs, they scattered burning-hot coals on the floor. What happened when the cubs stood on the coals? Their feet burned, so they began to dance. While they were dancing in pain, the trainers played music—once, twice, three times. When those bears grew up, just hearing the music frightened them and brought back the memory of the coals. Even though the coals were no longer under their feet, they started dancing out of pain and fear. So is that really success? The bear does it, it dances, it does what it’s told—but through coercion and conditioning. So to find the right goal, we have to ask ourselves: We don’t know whether the child will do it willingly or not. We have to see what goal will truly mean success in education. And here the Torah gives us a clear and precise definition of success in education, of the ultimate goal. We all know the verse of King Shlomo, the wisest of all men: “Educate a child according to his way; even when he grows old, he will not depart from it.” There are two parts to this verse. First, King Shlomo tells us how: “Educate a child according to his way.” Each child according to his own character—like the four sons.

05:14 Speaker 2 Pesach is coming soon. There’s the wise son, the wicked son, the simple son, and the son who doesn’t know how to ask. Each one must be approached according to his way and what he can manage. One child has motivation but lacks ability. Another has ability but lacks motivation. So the first part tells us how. The goal is: “Even when he grows old, he will not depart from it.” The goal isn’t that he be obedient. On the contrary: When Avraham Avinu wanted to understand something, he asked Hakadosh Boruch Hu, “Will You sweep away the righteous with the wicked?” Moshe Rabbeinu asked, “Why have You brought harm upon this people?” Yirmiyahu asked Hakadosh Boruch Hu, “Why does the way of the wicked prosper?” This tells us that a child should ask questions and want to know and understand. Here we make a distinction between two things. Listening is important, but there is also wanting to listen. The goal in education isn’t simply that he listens, but that he wants to listen, that he’s happy to listen. He does it with vitality and joy. How do I know? “Even when he grows old”—when he isn’t beside his teacher, his father, or his rabbi, and he still follows what he was taught. That’s the proof that we’ve reached our goal. And when do we see that? “Even when he grows old.” Even many years after his education, he continues in the same direction. That’s the proof that this really is the right goal for success. The Rebbe also directs us to the first Mishnah in Pirkei Avos: “Make a fence around the Torah, and raise up many students.” Right in the first Mishnah, we’re told that Pirkei Avos is the Jewish people’s guide to education. When you come to educate, remember: The Mishnah doesn’t say, “Gather the children in a classroom,” and it doesn’t say, “Speak to the students.” It says, “Raise up many students.” “Raise up” means that they stand firm, that they want to do it and do it willingly, standing on their own and continuing in the right direction. And this brings us

07:29 Speaker 2 to the question: How do we actually get there? At least now we know the destination. The goal is that “even when he grows old, he will not depart from it”—that he wants to do it, is happy to do it on his own, and has internalized what he was taught. Studying the Rebbe’s teachings on education opens our eyes and shows us the way, the key to success in education. I use the word “key” and avoid saying “rules.” There’s a story about Rabbi Alexander Ben Nun, who was a supervisor of Chabad institutions in earlier years. He was in yechidus with the Rebbe and handed the Rebbe a page listing ten fine rules for education. The Rebbe looked at the page and told Rabbi Alexander, “One rule is very much missing here: In education, there is no rule.” That means, again, as we said earlier, it depends on the child and on the situation. “Judge every person favorably”—that whole aspect of it. So we’ll use the word “key.” By “key,” I mean a direction: What is the right way to reach a child? The Rebbe points us to the well-known teaching in Hayom Yom, where the Rebbe Rashab declared that just as every person is obligated to put on tefillin every day, so too one must devote half an hour each day to thinking about the education of one’s children, and do everything within one’s power—and more than that—so that the child will want to follow the guidance he is given and be happy to do so. That’s the substance of the teaching, and it has three parts. The first is that education is an obligation, like the mitzvah of tefillin. The second is that one must devote half an hour each day to thinking about the education of one’s children. The third is to do everything within one’s power and more than that. And here we need to understand what lies behind the Rebbe Rashab’s declaration. First, we need to understand why the Rebbe Rashab chose to compare education to tefillin. There is in it

10:06 Speaker 2 There are 613 mitzvos, and there are mitzvos that women are obligated in too. Educating children. Most important, Yom Kippur, and also keeping Shabbos. Let’s say keeping Shabbos, for example, if you want to show how serious and important it is. So why specifically the mitzvah of tefillin? A second question: What can you accomplish with half an hour of thought a day? As parents, and certainly as educators, if we invested half an hour of thought in education—oh my, who knows what kind of students we would produce? We spend twenty-four hours a day thinking about our children, and everything we invest in earning a living and in work is for the children too. What can half an hour accomplish? And the third question: the Rebbe Rashab asks us to do what we can, but also more than we can. How is that possible? Who can do something beyond their ability? When we understand these three things, we’ll see exactly the key we’re talking about. The connection between tefillin and education. We see it already in the daily prayers, in Shema. The mitzvah of “Hear, O Israel,” the oneness of Hashem, loving Hashem. Immediately after loving Hashem comes the mitzvah “You shall teach them diligently to your children.” That’s where education appears, and after that comes “You shall bind them as a sign upon your hand.” Of all 613 mitzvos, alongside the oneness of Hashem, loving Hashem, and educating children, the mitzvah brought here is “You shall bind them”—tefillin—and not another mitzvah. Why? There must be some connection; otherwise it’s impossible to understand. What is the connection? Tefillin is the only mitzvah with two parts: the arm tefillin opposite the heart, and the head tefillin opposite the mind. In education, there are two parts. With every other mitzvah, there is either an action with the hand or a thought in the mind.

12:15 Speaker 2 You don’t have the combination of both together. With tefillin, the Torah tells us that in educating children we must combine the mind and the heart. That means emotion: being sensitive to the child and his situation, understanding him and encouraging him. That’s the emotional side. On the other hand, there’s the mind, the intellect, which determines what is permitted and what is forbidden. So if we use only the mind, we’ll end up with a difficult child. Going only by reason, without feeling, doesn’t work. If we use only emotion, we’ll end up with a spoiled child. The Torah therefore tells us: just as we must put on tefillin every day, combining heart and mind, so too, when you educate a child, remember to combine heart and mind, emotion and intellect. Now we understand the connection. There’s another reason for choosing the mitzvah of tefillin: it is, in fact, the only mitzvah that our Sages compare to the entire Torah. The second question was: What can half an hour of thought a day accomplish? The truth is, if the Rebbe had said to spend half an hour talking about education, half an hour really wouldn’t be nearly enough. The Rebbe says to keep educating, but devote half an hour a day to thought. The emphasis here is on thought. Sometimes we spend twenty-four hours doing good things, but without enough thought. What is there to think about? The Frierdiker Rebbe tells us in the Principles of Education and Guidance: that half hour of thought is for self-examination. Examine yourself. As human beings, none of us likes receiving criticism. When someone criticizes a person, he looks back at what happened, apologizes, and offers explanations and excuses. But there is a moment when he can be neutral. Nobody is questioning him. He doesn’t have to report to anyone, only to himself. For half an hour, think honestly to yourself. Did you act and speak with

14:40 Speaker 2 the children in that way? Was the lesson you prepared suitable for the children, or wasn’t it? Ask yourself. Anyone can spend half an hour thinking. He isn’t biased; he doesn’t have to account to anyone. Just half an hour of thought a day. In short, that’s self-examination. A person can be willing to do that, and it’s possible for him to do it. That’s what the half hour of thought is for. The question is, what is there to think about for half an hour? We’ll see in a moment, but first let’s answer the third part. The third part tells us to do more than we can. The Frierdiker Rebbe explained what “more than we can” means, and the Rebbe repeats it on several occasions. There’s a story from when the Frierdiker Rebbe came to the United States for his first visit. There was a Chabad community there, a Chabad shul run by Rabbi Jacobson, the father. He took the opportunity to bring in the community members and the gabbaim and introduce them to the Frierdiker Rebbe. When they left, Rabbi Jacobson stayed behind, and the Frierdiker Rebbe asked him, “Why do the community members look like that? It isn’t fitting for us.” Rabbi Jacobson said, “What can I do? That’s the situation.” The Frierdiker Rebbe told him, “From where I live, I certainly can’t tell you what to do. But one thing I can tell you: care about it.” That’s what it means to do more than you can. And the Rebbe told him that if he cared, they would look different. The Rebbe adds to this elsewhere with a story about the Chofetz Chaim. Once, the Chofetz Chaim sent a delegation to the authorities to try to have a certain decree revoked. He sent a delegation of rabbis, and they came back and told the Chofetz Chaim, “Unfortunately, we didn’t succeed.” The Chofetz Chaim asked, “And did anyone faint?” That’s the meaning of doing more than you can. If we invest ourselves and truly care, then

16:52 Speaker 2 we’ll solve even the difficult problems. What do these three parts have in common? Here lies the most fundamental principle of success in education. We see it. I want to tell you from personal experience. When parents and educators come to me and to other advisers with questions about education, they say, “We invest so much, and it isn’t working.” How often do we hear this line? Excuse me. We hear it from a father, from a mother, even from an educator: “I’ve told him a thousand times not to do that. I’ve invested so much and given so much, and it isn’t working.” So what question do we hear? “What do you do with a child who talks back? What do you do with a child who speaks disrespectfully? What do you do with a child who lies?” The list is very long. And here, in Hayom Yom, in the teaching we mentioned, the Rebbe tells us: Dear parents, dear educators, you’re asking the wrong question. That’s why you aren’t getting a good answer. You can ask it a thousand times, but it’s still the wrong question. Don’t ask, “What should I do to the child?” How is he supposed to know? We need to turn the question around: “What should I do so that the child will want to, and be happy to, do what I’m teaching him?” It’s right there in the first sentence: “What should I do?” Bring both heart and mind to it—not “What should I do to the child?” Prayer and education go together. When you ask yourself, “What should I do so that he’ll want to daven?” then I must be a living example of putting heart and mind into it. What should davening look like? During that half hour of thought, ask just one question. Don’t ask, “What am I going to do to this child who was late today?” Don’t ask that during the half hour; you’re doing that all day anyway. Don’t ask, “What am I going to do because he didn’t listen in class today?” What

19:25 Speaker 2 What should I do about the fact that the class wasn’t with me in today’s lesson? And what should I do about the child who spoke disrespectfully? For half an hour, ask yourself just one question: What do I need to do for that child who wasn’t listening to the lesson? I’ll prepare a better lesson. I’ll call him over. I’ll speak with his parents and arrange private lessons. I’ll look for what I can do to help him succeed. So one thing is certain: if I have an answer, that’s wonderful. If I don’t have an answer, at least I haven’t made things worse. Because if I ask what to do to him, I might make things worse. But if we ask ourselves, “What do I need to do?”—in most cases we discover that we are the living example. That’s the point. I once heard, speaking of a living example, that there’s setting a personal example and there’s being a living example. Setting a personal example means that, in his child’s presence, a father doesn’t do things he shouldn’t do. But when the child isn’t there—well, he’s human. Being a living example means that whether the child is present or not, he always lives and does the right thing. There’s a story about a teacher. I don’t know whether it was Mother’s Day or they were learning about the mitzvah of honoring one’s father and mother in class. The teacher asked the third-grade girls to each write down three good things about their mothers. Three things about Mom. So the girls took slips of paper, and each of the students sat down and wrote: Mom cooks for us, Mom does our laundry, Mom takes us on outings, and so on. One girl wrote something out of the ordinary. She wrote: “My mother is always happy. Second, my mother always gives in. And my mother has a lot of patience.” The teacher saw this and was very impressed. She immediately tried to get in touch with the mother and told her, “Look at your daughter, and look at what you’re managing to convey to her.”

21:39 Speaker 2 So the mother asked, “What?” The teacher told her the three things. The mother said, “I’m sorry, there must be a mistake. That can’t be my daughter. Yes, it’s a mistake. You must mean another mother. Me—patient, willing to give in, happy? Where did she see that?” They asked the girl, “You said your mother is very happy. Where did you see that?” She said, “What do you mean? Whenever she’s in the kitchen cooking, she sings.” So she saw her mother as happy. Her mother sings, and at that moment she really does cheer herself up, but she wasn’t doing it to make a point. That’s called being a living example. Then they asked her, “How do you know your mother gives in?” “Because whenever we ask for something, she says, ‘Ask your father.’ Mom gives in and lets Dad handle it.” “And patience?” “Mom always waits for Dad to come home for dinner.” So even just half an hour spent thinking, “What do I need to do?”—one of the most striking things is the living example we set. The third thing we asked was: “So what? What do I need to do from the outset?” It’s about doing as much as I can, to the best of my ability. Again, it’s what I ask myself. I ask myself: “What more can I do?” I want the child to keep wanting to do these things and to be happy doing them. So, to sum up, what is the key that will lead to success? It’s that we always ask the right question. And we do have to ask questions. There’s the well-known joke about a father walking with his son. The boy asked his father all sorts of questions: “Why is the sky blue? Why is the table brown? Why does a camel have a hump? Why do you pedal a bicycle with two feet?” And to every question, the father replied,

24:03 Speaker 2 “I don’t know.” So the boy said, “Dad, I’m sorry I’m bothering you with all these questions.” His father said, “Heaven forbid! If you don’t ask, you won’t know.” It’s a joke, of course, but one of the fundamental things we need to do is encourage children to keep asking questions. The more they ask, the better. There’s another well-known story about someone who became exceptionally brilliant. People asked him, “How did you get there?” He said, “Thanks to my mother.” “Your mother wasn’t an educator, was she? How did she do that?” He said, “When all my friends came home, their mothers would ask, ‘How was cheder today? What did you learn?’ My mother asked me a different question every time. She would ask, ‘What good question did you ask in class today?’ From then on, I knew I had to ask questions. And when I asked, I wanted an answer. That’s how I reached the level you’re asking me about.” If we take that approach, we’ll succeed. I’ll end with just one word. I call it “malt,” an acronym for milah tovah—a kind word. You can have a magnificent building, made entirely of gold and precious stones, but if you haven’t joined them together with mortar, you can’t live in it. Educating children depends greatly—indeed, I’d say the very foundation is—on the encouragement we give them for every good thing they do. Encourage, encourage, encourage. In Hebrew, the word for “encourage” contains the word for “more.” And through this we... How do we say it in the prayers? “And all your children will be taught by Hashem, and great will be the peace of your children.” Do not read it as “your children,” but as “your builders.” With a kind word, we build the child. May it be Hashem’s will that we merit to see the fruits, and the fruits of the fruits, of our students, and together with them go out to greet our righteous Moshiach.