Speaking Without Words

This week I attended a program at Yeshiva University that had offered an opportunity to hear from Gilad Shalit, and members of his army unit.  Shalit is the Israeli soldier held captive by Hamas from 2006 to 2011.   I entered a packed auditorium, while outside lines of students wanting to attend wound round the block.  The stage had two rows of chairs, each with a microphone.  The moderator explained that the squad of soldiers were speaking in various places on this trip, and were accompanied by trauma experts.

 

The unit commander approached the podium and said, through a translator, that his squad experienced a horrible event in 2006  which resulted in the death of 2 of their comrades and Gilad Shalit’s capture.  This trip, he explained, was part of their work towards closure.

 

The evening proceeded with the moderator asking questions and various soldiers choosing to come to the microphone and answer.  Multiple times the audience rose to their feet.   There was applause of appreciation and support when the men of the Unit were introduced, when they spoke of continuing their duties immediately on return to Israel, as they explained their commitment to each other and to the Zahal (Israeli Army’s) ethical code to avoid harm to civilians, even when it increases risk to soldiers.

 

As the capacity crowd left the building there were some murmurings of disappointment.  Some questions had been left unanswered, the chairs on the stage had remained empty. Mostly, those privileged to be there were pleased they had come.  True, Gilad Shalit did not speak.  But everyone in the packed auditorium listened to his unspoken testimony.  We heard pain and courage, commitment and loss.  And I for one left feeling that I had been part of an important dialogue.  I know I “heard” Gilad, even without his words.  I hope Gilad and his fellow soldiers heard us too.  I hope our message was loud and clear, an auditorium packed to the rafters with students and faculty  voicing our care, our pride, and our understanding for things words cannot begin to say.

 

 

Stepstools and Stepping Stones: Graduation and Moving Up

 One of the most important tools for me, five feet tall on a good day, is the folding step stool I keep in my kitchen.  It gives me the height and reach to grab those essentials in the far reaches of my cabinets.  Without this nifty aid for the vertically challenged, my recipes would miss all those ingredients from the top shelves, and who knows what would lurk in the deep recesses of the fridge.

Last night, I did what many of us do this time of year.  I went to graduation.  Usually, I am kvelling (getting pride) at the graduation of a child or relative.  This time, it was a different group of “children” that I joined to celebrate this milestone – the students at Azrieli Graduate School of Jewish Education and Administration, where I have the privilege to teach and direct the doctoral program.

The evening was a wonderful blend of pomp and circumstance, a sea of graduates and faculty in Harry Potter like robes,  with down-home, family celebration.  Words of thanks and inspiration from educational luminaries including President of Yeshiva University Richard Joel, and the director of the Jim Joseph Foundation, Chip Edelsberg were echoed in the students’ speeches.   Adding to the feeling of family was a convocation offered by the spouse of a doctoral grad, another doctoral grad hooding her daughter and son-in-law who received their Masters degrees, a faculty beaming with pride and good wishes, and of course, the room filled with parents, spouses, and children watching their parents and sometimes their teachers and principals, receive advanced degrees.

Almost seven years ago I joined the University faculty, and about five years ago began directing the doctoral program.  Education and graduations were not new to me, since as Director of Training and Director of Psychology at a medical center,  I proudly launched  psychologists year after year, into careers of helping and healing.  Yet I feel really fortunate to have moved to a position where I am able to teach teachers and educators. Last night, as we had, one after another, Masters and Doctoral graduates, step up to be ceremonially hooded and diploma-ed, it felt wonderful to imagine their talent, knowledge and dedication populating classrooms and schools across the country.  They have been empowered as not only great  educators, but as change agents, ready to move the schools fortunate enough to hire them, towards 21^st century learning infused by an ancient and exquisite tradition.

In the Talmud, R. Chanina says, “I have learned much from my teachers, more from my colleagues, and the most from my students” (Ta’anis 7a).  It is fitting, then, that I could have used my step stool last evening to hood the doctoral students who I have watched grow over these past years.  That they tower above me is neither surprising nor distressing.  It has been such a joy to watch them grow in stature, to see their hearts, minds and souls expand and embrace best practices and new ways of teaching and learning. It was a special joy to hear from all of them about their current plans and future goals, and to know that last night’s graduation processional was not, for any of them, the end of a journey.  It was just another educational step stool – a tool to help them reach new heights.  Knowing that gave me, from my meager five foot tall stance, an enormous boost and a beautiful view of the ever-changing landscape.

Congratulations to all Graduates . . . and a special thank you to teachers, from kindergarten through graduate school, who make graduations possible.

Going Digital and Going Deeper – On-Line Learning

In the midst of the talk about flipped classrooms and on-line learning, I recently had the opportunity to co-develop and facilitate a segment of an on-line certificate course for educators.  As the course is winding down and I can reflect on the experience I find myself surprised and impressed at what I have learned and how my beliefs about learning in the virtual world have shifted.

Firstly, developing the course allowed me to work with a wonderful group of colleagues.  Teaching and offering professional development can be a very lonely task, and having the opportunity to bounce things off the team of consummate educators that made up the Yeshiva University School Partnership certificate program development team was really exciting and invigorating.  The planning discussions and collaboration resulted in better work than I would have done alone, and enriched the lessons I gave.

Second, I have spent the past week speaking to various groups of educators and parents.  In each case the participants were live in the room with me.  But in each case, it was also the only time we would be together.  These were traditional professional development and workshop formats – one shot deals.  As much as the participants gained, as much as they learned, there was no time to process, to go deeper, to think and apply, to reflect and question.  That is the problem with typical professional development.  It is near impossible to get busy parents or professionals into a room once, never mind in on an on-going basis.  The on-line certificate program allowed us to “meet” on a regular basis with committed educators.  Although our meetings were virtual, the learning was quite real, the discussions rich and rewarding.

I began this experience in on-line learning reluctantly.  I have been sufficiently impressed with the power and potential of on-line learning in the certificate program, and as a result will be moving one of my regular graduate courses partly on-line this summer.  I hope to continue to be privileged to teach wonderful educators, who while they may be unable to meet me in my classroom, can learn with me virtually, to make a very real difference in Jewish education.

 

FYI – for specific information about  the YUSP On-line Certificate Programs visit

http://www.yuschoolpartnership.org/certificates