Insulation Is Not Education

’Tis the time when rabbanim, gvirim, askanim, and anyone who knows someone who knows someone with pull in that yeshivah receives multiple phone calls, with the same impassioned plea: “I heard that the school has only X slots available, which will be filled by those with the most pull [i.e., those who nudge the most]. You know who I am? Right? I learned second seder with your eidem in BMG two zemanim ago. If you can please put in a good word for me….”

And the rav, askan, etc., will inevitably say, “I’ll try” — knowing full well that he is unlikely to be successful (unless he is calling for his own einekel. Hey, it’s not what you know….)

Now, I fully understand why parents would make the phone call. Parents care. They want the best for their children. If they believe that a particular yeshivah or Bais Yaakov is right for their child, they might as well go for it. But what I really don’t understand is the desperation, the overwhelming concern that the families must reflect their exact hashkafah, their precise shade on the spectrum, their dialect of frumkeit; the fear that if their children are exposed to those a bit to the left of them, the roof will cave in.

Similarly, how often do menahalim hear from parents, “If you accept that [atypical, more modern, etc.] family or bochur, then I cannot send to your mosad — because who knows what that exposure will do?”