Not in My Backyard

Dov: I admire your work, but not at the expense of my children’s chinuch.

Zalman: This is a communal responsibility, not just my private endeavor.

DOV

Ironically, on the morning that everything began changing, I was on the phone with my good friend Chaim, trying to convince him to join us.

“Seriously, you won’t find another community out there that’s got everything we have,” I told him. “The warmth, the unity, the solid hashkafos, great schools, suburban lifestyle, slower pace, less peer pressure and materialism — all the benefits of out-of-town, and we’re barely half an hour away from the center of everything. My wife shops in Brooklyn all the time, we’re literally right here, but can you imagine, we have parking whenever we need it.” I chuckled at my own joke.

Chaim gave a dutiful laugh as well. “Okay, I hear you,” he said, not sounding enthusiastic. “I’ll discuss it with my wife. She’s really set on Lakewood, but the housing there…” He sighed deeply, and I quickly continued my pitch, extolling the affordable, spacious housing options here in Oaklands.

“It’s homogeneous, too,” I added. “All the families are real bnei Torah, just like us.” I held my breath, but Chaim kept any ready retorts to himself. He knew I was sensitive about this. Coming from a more modern background and having flipped out in yeshivah, I loved my new lifestyle, but was never sure if I’d mastered the nuances and social codes everyone else just seemed to get so effortlessly. “It’s mamesh expanding, people are moving in every day,” I added. “There were a few houses on my block sold recently. In fact,” I said, looking out the window, “I see a moving truck just opposite. Looks like there’s a new neighbor moving in today.”