I signed up for the CJF’S Counterpoint Israel winter mission a bit cynical. What difference could my peers and I make in a week? Was art really a positive way to interact with 150 boys between seventh and ninth grade? Granted, the art would be a way for the kids to talk about their personal narratives, but would the messages of our lessons really pierce through?
With these question in my head , I signed up, nonetheless, for a subsidized trip to Israel, and for what promised to be a different type of Israel experience than I’d previously had during my years spent learning in Israel . Yet, I was still skeptical about what this different experience actually could accomplish.
After a day and a half of preparatory training, our group of twelve student volunteers from YU and Stern entered the classrooms of Ort Spania, a school for seven through twelfth grader in Jerusalem. The school was different than most. Most of its students came from poor and underprivileged families and many of the students had been kicked out of other schools, landing in Ort. Each teaching pair was given three different classes of kids to teach each day over the course of the week. Each class we taught was different: the seventh graders were calm and naïve;the eighth graders were off the walls, throwing art supplies around the room and fighting with one another on the very first day;and our ninth grade class – well, they were in that perfectly imbalanced state of adolescence, in high school but not yet touched by the pressure of Israel’s matriculation exams. Yet, despite the differences in age and maturity, there was one thing that all the kids in each of the classes were lacking: personal attention.
Imagine the following classroom:upwards of thirty kids – rowdier than average – all handed over to one Israeli teacher. With physical fights, racial slurs and negative peer pressure rampant in these classrooms, one wonders how any teacher could be expected to both control and teach these kids. Indeed, many teachers resorted to stereotyping and labeling in order to maintain classroom order. Teachers labeled kids as the bador the shy ones, or the ones that didn’t need any attention, So sweatshirt-clad, hooded Adam was perceived merely as an aggressive personality; little Yosef was the shy one, and creative Ariel was perceived as a troublemaker.
We split the classes into groups of fifteen and entered in groups of two or three teachers. In the week we spent with them, we tried to give these students the personal attention each of them craved and deserved. We saw (and showed the teachers) Adam’s work ethic and diligence when it came to finishing his projects. We made Yosef smile by engaging in simple, casual conversations with him. We watched as Ariel, armed with art supplies, was able to focus and create something beautiful of his own. Sometimes we saw artistic talent, but mostly, we saw personalities. We saw the value in each kid, and we allowed them to see that value in themselves. Art for some was the alternative form of expression that they lacked and that we were able to provide. For most, however, art was merely a medium to create conversation, between their group and ours. Whether those conversationsw ere centered around the lessons plans of personal identity or around their favorite new games on the iPhone, the focus was clear: creating a dialogue in which each kid felt that he mattered.
Our teaching program did not take place in a vaccum. When we left the school at four we did not go off to undirected free time for the rest of the day (though there was free time later in the evening). Instead, we were just as much participants in this program as we were teachers. Every evening, after finishing our teaching at Ort Spania, we had programming designed to help us come to terms with this underbelly of Israeli society to which we had never been so tangibly exposed. Weran a program for Afikim,an organization for kids and families from low socioeconomic backgrounds committed to assisting kids in schools and equipped parents with parenting skills. We met with a panel of Israeli soldiers and were exposed to the concept of Tzahal not just as a militarily focused army but as an all-encompassing corrective organization for youth at risk. We saw Tzahal in a new light, understanding it to be also a medium for Israeli kids to mature and become productive members of Israeli society – even at a profit loss for the army.
Each of these evening activities contributed to creating a more holistic experience. Through various activities we were able to obtain a more complete understanding of the background of the kids that we were teaching. At the same time, the programming exposed us to other Israeli venues attemptingto break the vicious cycle of poverty and violence that the kids we were teaching came from.
Tamar Berger, another program participant from Stern College explained that “usually when ending a program I can look back and say where I wish things could have been tweaked or could have been done a bit differently. Not so on this program.” Indeed, everything that we did on the program was was planned in a deliberate, thought-out manner. We gave and we learned: we gave kids the attention they needed;we helped students create art that they could proudly show their parent at our final schoolwide event.;and we learned from the students we taught and about the part of Israeli society from which they came. ; most importantly, perhaps, we learned from one another. Our dynamic, diverse, and committed group of student participants – led by Kiva and Atara – successfully created a group ethic focused on teaching, learning and having a great time.
The art projects were an effective alternative to normative learning for some kids and the concept of a “personal narrative” struck a chord with some kids too. For all kids, however, one thing was for certain: that week and a half was not too short of a time period at all. We made kids smile; we made kids feel confident about themselves; we gave them the personal attention that they needed. We all emerged tired from the week and a half. But we also emerged with an immense sense of fulfillment, with a new perspective on Israeli society, and with 150 new young friends from Ort Spania.
As Herzl, the vice principale of Ort Spania said in the final tekes( event), “Tov Mareh Einayim Mimishma Oznayim” – “Seeing is better than hearing.” The type of lessons we learned about chessed, Israeli society and the value of time cannot be learned through a text. These are lessons that can only be learned through experience. This week in Israel was a lesson like no other – one that I most certainly will never forget.