In the spirit of V’nahafoch hu, Mishpacha contributors share the axioms they were sure of…until they weren’t
As told to Yael Schuster
His hair was a mess, and he needed a dermatologist. He was a bit of a nerd, couldn’t throw a ball, and lacked social graces. He also changed my life.
I’d been teaching for eight years, and believed it all boiled down to this simple postulate: Smart kids excel, weak kids struggle. My responsibility to the weaker student was to modify my expectations and help him become a better person. But get him to read a gemara? Unlikely.
So just a few weeks into the school year, the script for Yoni was already laid out. He was destined to spend eighth grade zoned out, flunk his tests, and fill his role as class floater. As much as I’d love to, there was little I could do to change it.
One Thursday in February, Yoni handed in his weekly Gemara test, and as usual, it was painful: Each question was filled in, but the answers had “no shaychus,” as the guys would say. But my antennae were sensing something different this time, though I couldn’t pinpoint what it was. Maybe a drop more effort? Or the feeling that Yoni thought he did better than usual?
Create a free account to keep reading.
