Monday, July 09, 2007

The Land of Crocs and Honey

My family has just returned from a few weeks' visit to Israel. We had a wonderful time seeing friends, taking the children to places they had never been to before, shopping and running a few errands.

All in all, we were happy to "be home" again after a two-year gap. We try to get back to visit as often as possible. Or, I should say, as often as my husband, Charles, racks up enough business travel miles affording us the ability to visit.

As we traipsed around the country taking in the sights, we of course listened to the news. I followed the situation in Gaza, the first Katyusha attack on Kiryat Shmona in a year, and the presidential sex scandal that nauseated me with its implications for women's rights and status in the country.

ON THE more positive side, I was struck by the plethora of large building cranes almost everywhere we went, especially in Jerusalem, where we were staying in a friend's apartment. Central Jerusalem seems to have very few green spaces left, and since the city can't build sideways it is building upwards - on top of old existing buildings, anywhere it seems can be extended toward the sky.

Building boom and sex scandals aside, I think one of my weirdest lasting impressions of this visit will be the mind game I played with the latest Israeli fashion craze: Crocs.

During our last visit two years ago, I don't think I saw even one pair of Crocs, anywhere. I don't know exactly when this latest craze started, but it certainly is the biggest trend now.

Everywhere I looked there were racks and racks of Crocs for sale in stores. And practically everywhere I looked they were on the feet of Israelis, of all different shapes and sizes.
Expensive too. In the States one pays about $30 for a pair. In Israel the going rate seems to be about $50.

Now, I must admit that we do wear the big, ugly, comfortable rubber shoes in my family. Everyone has them except for my eldest, teenage daughter who thinks they are hideous. But they kind of make more sense for Florida, where we wear them on boats to go fishing and when we need quick-drying waterproof shoes with traction for managing the inches of water that can suddenly pour from the heavens at a moments notice.

And so we have a tradition: Almost the very first second after we arrive in Israel, I take my kids to get their new Israeli sandals. Good old Naots or Nimrods. And I usually get great end-of-season deals in June at the mall.

BUT MY children seemed to be in the minority this year. It was actually kind of hard to find the average Israeli child wearing "regular" sandals. I got nostalgic when I finally spotted one girl wearing old-fashioned leather, strappy sandals.

So I began to play a bit of a game called "Spot-the-Crocs." It was kind of fun trying to spy the most eclectic combination of person and shoe.

There was the trendy Ethiopian girl with purple Crocs.

The young, swarthy man near the main Jerusalem bus station with blue ones.

Modern Orthodox woman with red.

The tiny girl with the tiny pink Crocs.

But there was one combination in particular that I thought won the prize.

When I took the kids to the Western Wall, we brought along the accumulated tzedaka (charity collection) from my youngest daughter's Hebrew class. We tried to distribute it evenly, some going to the permanent boxes for the upkeep of the Kotel, the rest to the various old women and men milling around asking for charity and giving out red strings.

In the women's section we found a kindly looking, elderly religious lady. When we gave her a few dollars she beckoned us closer and asked us to bow our heads to receive a blessing. As she blessed us I looked down at the ground. And on her feet were a pair of beige Crocs.

On the way back to the States, we stopped for a quick visit with family in London. In the Heathrow departure lounge, waiting for our plane back to Miami, I walked past a young girl wearing bright orange Crocs and munching on a bag of Bissli. Seeing her gave me a nice warm feeling. A reminder of home, in Israel.

The New Face of Jewish Education

Some friends of mine lost their jobs recently. They were not only friends, but a few of them have also been my children's teachers. Good people, wonderful teachers who helped impart important Jewish and secular values at our Hebrew day school.

As far as I am aware, no one lost their job due to incompetence or other negative reasons. What I have been told is that the school is facing a drop in enrollment, and therefore budgetary concerns are forcing cuts across the board.

I don't need to ask for an explanation about why my children's school is facing an enrollment decrease. I know.

For many, the main reason is the yearly, growing cost of a Jewish day school education. Some American Jewish communities have raised money for endowments or reduced tuition programs where families pay reasonable percentages of their income toward Jewish education.
Unfortunately this has, of yet, not happened in our area of Florida.

The cost of our son's kindergarten tuition at the David Posnack Hebrew Day School in August 2000 was around $6,000.

Parents of incoming kindergartners this coming fall will pay nearly double that amount. Add several other children into the picture and many families sadly opt out of such an expensive educational scenario. Sometimes they make an almost equally difficult decision and have to choose which of their children they can afford to send, and which they cannot.

There are many Jewish families in south Florida with broken hearts. Our local Jewish community and Federation are failing in what should be their mission to help raise money to support Jewish day school education.

TO GIVE THEM a bit of credit, I know that their failure isn't completely due to lack of effort. They try, but a lot of the blame falls on the community who just don't give.

I have debated this problem with knowledgeable friends, who say that the giving mentality has deteriorated with younger Jewish generations. Those that could afford to help, just don't give like their parents once did. There are of course caring Jewish souls who open their wallets and hearts, but they are obviously in the minority.

Another reason students are being pulled not only out of our day school, but also other local schools, is because of a new public charter school, slated to open in August, which is being touted as "America's First English-Hebrew Charter School."

On the Ben Gamla Charter School (BGCS) Web site, the school is described as intending to "provide a strong academic program in a warm and nurturing environment. In addition to the traditional curriculum of language arts, mathematics, social studies and science, BGCS will provide specials classes in physical education, Hebrew language, art and music."

For free.

And guess what? Since opening their enrollment in mid-May, the response has been overwhelming. Eight hundred people have attempted to register their children. For its first year in existence Ben Gamla was supposed to be kindergarten through third grade. Now they are trying to extend through eighth grade. Existing day schools certainly have a right to be nervous.
An American public school education is required to have a distinct separation of church and state. While BGCS is touting itself as a secular entity, teaching Hebrew as well as Jewish history and culture, the school claims it will not include religious studies. In deference to its status as a public school, Torah and prayer will not be taught, but students will supposedly be allowed to form their own minyans.

DEBATE IS RAGING in our community and over charter schools in general. Among those I have talked to, opinion is divided.

On the pro side, many people think that it is wonderful for some sort of free, Jewish education to be provided. I compare it to the state education system in Israel.

On the con side, people worry that this will set the stage for extremists from all religious spectrums to set up institutions with potential radical elements taught in the guise of a public school entity.

Some say that such things are already are in existence, so why debate? Why shouldn't Jewish kids get some sort of free Hebrew (whisper "Jewish") education?

I understand that a meeting recently took place that included heads of local (and competing) day schools, yeshivas, Jewish federation bigwigs and other community leaders. Presumably they debated their own futures in light of this new charter school. I would have loved to have been a fly on the wall of that room.

If Ben Gamla turns out to be successful, then the American Jewish community has no right to complain. On the contrary, concerned American Jews should feel ashamed that they never came up with a viable solution first, offering an affordable educational option to anyone interested.

I, for one, say kol hakavod to the Ben Gamla people. And I will be watching carefully to see if it might be an option for my own children. I am certainly not sure if it is the ideal answer to the problem of Universal Jewish Education. But at least it might be an answer. And for right now, the only answer.