Chazal say that women have a tendency to utilize outside influence more in their avodas Hashem
The famous midrash describes Terach renouncing his two “blasphemous” children to King Nimrod, who gave them an ultimatum: Either worship idolatry or be burned alive in a fiery oven. Avraham adamantly refused to worship idols and was thrown into the furnace. Miraculously, he emerged unscathed.
They say opposites attract. My husband and I are a good example of that concept. He’s logical, grounded, a math and science person. I’m impulsive, creative, total literature brain. He’s a chess man; I’m a Scrabblephile. We complement each other perfectly, each stepping in to fit the slot that works best.
Until it came to PTA for my boys.
For decades, I’d show up to my girls’ PTA, with mental lists of issues and topics, wanting to get a comprehensive picture of how each daughter was doing academically, socially, emotionally.
Then those years phased out, and it was the boys’ turn. Where I live, it’s mostly the fathers who attend PTA, and I was more than happy to pass the torch.
After the first PTA in the cheder, my husband came home after 20 minutes.
I was confused. “Did you speak to each rebbi?”
“Sure. The rebbeim said the boys are all doing fine. B’seder.”
B’seder. No further questions.
My husband learned with each child and knew where each was holding academically. But what about the other issues? Their social life? Their organizational skills? My brain was sputtering with questions.
When the next PTA came along, I was determined to ferret out more info.
“Can I come along?”
“You want to? You may feel like the odd woman out.”
Sure enough, although there were a couple of women there, I was surrounded by black hats and jackets, feeling like a peacock among pigeons. But I was the mother. I needed to know how my child was doing, on all fronts.
If the rebbeim were surprised to see me there, they didn’t show it. They answered all my questions about recess playmates, missing notebooks, and lunchtime habits.
By the time we left, I felt reassured.
As we left the building, my husband looked at me in a mixture of wonder and amazement,
“Boy,” he said, holding open the door, “PTA with you sure takes a lot longer!”
(Originally featured in Family First, Issue 815)