It seems like yesterday that I was a newlywed teaching second grade atBethTefillahCommunitySchoolinBaltimore. My youth coupled with my students’ innocence infused our classroom with enthusiasm. Yet despite my spirit — fresh from seminary — and my students’ eagerness to learn and embrace Yiddishkeit the following situation taught me the true powers at work in my classroom.
Michael was a sweet earnest boy who came from a wholesome and traditional family. Steven was an only child whose parents had gone through a recent ugly divorce. His father drove fast cars and his mother wore the highest-end brand-name jeans.
Steven walked into school one morning wearing very cool black jeans with a white T- shirt neatly tucked in. He clearly represented a mini-male mirror of his mom’s look. Michael showed up in a crisp button-down shirt that his mother probably ironed and lovingly laid out for him the night before. At some point during morning brachos I noticed that Michael had unbuttoned his shirt and was standing a bit insecurely in his undershirt.
I went up to him and softly queried “Michoel Chaim?” (I used their Hebrew names.) “Why did you take off your shirt? It’s not nice to daven in your undershirt.”
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