And So We Change
March 17, 2008
Autumn to winter, winter into spring, spring into summer, summer into fall,— So rolls the changing year, and so we change; motion so swift, we know not that we move. —Dinah Mulock Craik
I will always remember the very first phone message I received when I joined Temple Emanu-El almost two years ago; it was waiting for me when I arrived for my first day of work. The message was from a father of a Temple Emanu-El religious school student, regarding his child’s class assignment. The student had been placed on a waiting list for the early Sunday session.
On my first day at Temple Emanu-El, I knew little about the school’s faculty, curriculum, or culture. I’m not sure I knew yet that we had an early and a late session. I knew absolutely nothing about our school registration process, or the mechanisms by which students were assigned to one session or the other. By the time I got off the phone from that very first call, however, I knew a lot about the anxiety and aggravation that attends these class assignments and the stakes that ride on a child’s receiving the assignment that a parent prefers.
For two years we followed (as far as I could tell) an inherited procedure: students would be assigned to their preferred sections on a first-come, first-served basis. Once we hit a certain number of students in a section, which generally corresponded with half of the projected number of students in that grade, based on the prior year’s enrollment, additional students who requested that section would be placed on a waiting list. If, as the start of school drew near, it appeared that we could move students from the waiting list to the class list of choice without creating an imbalance (too many or too few students in a section) that threatened to compromise the quality of instruction, we would do so.
Meanwhile, everyone waited for their child’s assignment. Carpool plans were delayed. Decisions about after-school activities had to be postponed. The whole ordeal made everyone, including me, a bit cranky.
So this year we’re making a change that should prove more convenient for everyone.
Registration—that is, the act of providing the Temple with information about your child(ren) for the purposes of enrollment—will proceed pretty much as it has in recent years: packets will go out later this month, timed to coincide with the return from public school Spring Break. Enrollment, however, which is when we let you know that your child has been enrolled in our program, in a particular class—third grade or fifth, for example, early or late—will be handled slightly differently. It will still be on a first-come, first-served basis. The sooner you get your completed registration forms and fees to us, the more likely you are to receive the section assignment that you prefer.
The difference is that those families who have completed their registration, come in before the cutoff for their preferred enrollment, and who have begun payment (at least one installment) of their 2008-2009 membership dues, will receive their enrollment packets beginning in early July. Families whose children are on waiting lists but are otherwise cleared for enrollment will have the choice of remaining on the waiting list or taking enrollment in the open section. Section limits will be established in order to preserve the quality of classroom instruction: no more than 15 or 20 students per section (Hebrew and Sunday classes, respectively), and no fewer than seven.
It is my hope that this new system will better serve our families, and that the change will be good for everyone involved: parents, students, and teachers. As always, I welcome your thoughts.
Reflections on Fifty
March 17, 2008
“Judah ben Temah taught: At five a boy is ready to study Torah, at ten he is ready to study Mishnah, at thirteen he is ready to be responsible for the mitzvot, at fifteen he is ready to study Talmud, at eighteen he is ready to get married, at twenty he is ready to pursue a living, at thirty he reaches full strength, at forty he reaches understanding, at fifty he is able to give counsel, at sixty he reaches maturity, at eighty one reaches strong old age…” (Pirke Avot)
Twenty years ago this month, I was serving as Assistant Rabbi at my former pulpit in San Francisco, and I was in the midst of celebrating my 30th birthday. As coincidence would have it, my Senior Rabbi also was having a milestone birthday - his 50th. It was also a highlight occasion for our Cantor, who was turning 60. The Temple President one evening noticed that if we added up the ages of the three Temple clergy, the sum of 140 represented the precise anniversary of the founding of the Temple itself. Needless to say, a special celebration was planned to mark the occasion, and the “Thirty - Fifty - Sixty” event has gone down in the annals of both the temple and the three of us “birthday boys.”
I remember gently teasing my elder colleagues when it was my turn to take the podium that night: “I don’t want to accuse Rabbi Weiner of getting old,” I said, “but still, you have to wonder why his last three sermons were on the empty-nest syndrome, social security, and Polygrip!”
How is it possible then, that in the blink of an eye, I am now the Senior Rabbi preparing to turn 50? And although my sermon on Polygrip has yet to be delivered, the needling has long since begun! “What goes around, comes around”, so I guess it is payback time in some respects.
Milestone birthdays give us - or should I say, force us - to look backward and ahead as we take stock of the years of our lives. The text from Pirke Avot cited above is a powerful reminder of the steady progress of that journey. It also comes to teach me that, although I am nearer to the end of my rabbinic career than to its beginning, I am only now gaining the fullness of experience and hopefully the accompanying wisdom to offer as guidance for others in their own life’s journey. I hope the years bring with them the gift of insight and discernment, for certainly, every day continues to bring its own unique challenges and opportunities, even as was the case when I was a younger rabbi.
In our Jewish tradition, a birthday is considered to be something of a mini “Rosh Hashanah”; an occasion to gather with family and friends, to learn a bit of Torah, to give thanks to God, and to make some gifts of tzedakah. I am planning all of the above, and I am also looking forward celebrating with all our Temple “family” during our annual Jazz concert later this month. Thank-you to our Temple Brotherhood for honoring me in such a special way.
Now, about that Polygrip…
