By Caleb Gitlitz
“Ger v’toshav anochi imachem – I am a resident alien among you.” These words were once spoken by our forefather, Avraham Avinu. In their spirit, I would like to express that what I am about to present may be alien to some. But I speak to each of you with the gratitude of being a fellow student at the outstanding institution that is Yeshiva University.
Yeshiva University. The university I have heard about ever since I was little. Whether it was reading Torah-To-Go packets or the “Torah U’madda” chair in my Dad’s office, YU has been a part of my life from a very young age. YU is well-renowned across the world; shuls, schools and Jews of various hashkafot throughout America look up to YU. Leaders of the Jewish people – such as Rabbi Sacks ztz”l and former Prime Minister Golda Meir – understood YU’s significance to our nation. They praised it as a leading institution in the diaspora and made personal visits from the UK and Israel, respectively. Torah luminaries have learned in YU’s batei midrash, including most of our rabbanim whom we trust to lead our Jewish communities.
When I first came to campus, stepped foot in the place churning out the Torah from which many have benefitted from such a young age, and discovered that our orientation shiur was going to be on Kavod Habriyot (a subtopic of respect for others), I wasn’t surprised. This is the YU I have always known. This is the Torah that YU teaches.
So one can imagine my shock upon hearing from a faculty member that in her ten years at YU, I was the first student to have held the door for her (despite her telling me that I should go to class instead of waiting for her to make it to the building). Afterward, she was surprised, and I could not help but feel disappointment in this institution.
YU is so much more than our university. YU is supposed to be a beacon of light, showing others how the Jewish world can aspire to live by Torah values in the modern era, and in fact is where so much of the rest of the world looks as a model for what a Jewish society should look like.
Yet I have seen a majority of students act like they don’t value the others they share this campus with; they ask “how are you” but don’t care to hear the answer; “hock” but don’t express deeper concern for their peers; don’t approach students they’re unfamiliar with; don’t welcome students of a different gender to campus; play on their laptops during class; outright talk over their teachers; approach administrators with entitlement; don’t thank their teachers, security officers, or maintenance workers; don’t have time to show respect, care, or appreciation for others – especially those responsible for helping us along our educational journeys. Many devote much of their time on campus to complaining about what’s wrong with YU instead of trying to build bridges and create a more friendly environment.
There are certainly exceptions. There are students who are kind, who show their gratitude, who reach out to others. Students who sit with others for deep conversations, and genuinely thank every staff member they interact with.
But clearly, it’s not enough people.
Was it because she is a woman? Maybe gender wasn’t a factor. Perhaps I’ll never know. However, that question could not help but enter my mind, especially given how segregated the campuses are. The separation fosters much discomfort regarding interactions between men and women – a discomfort that was foreign in my coed high school and was instead replaced with respect, kindness and kinship. That’s the environment I wish would also exist at YU.
Every person we interact with is an equal child of G-d, regardless of their background. (I really hope I don’t need to add other bases upon which discrimination occurs, because every human being – especially Jews – should be above any form of discrimination). Even some students who are so-called “talmidei chachamim” make excuses to not show respect or appreciation to others. Whether that be by positing that the shiur they’re listening to in the elevator is more important than interacting with others, that they’re too busy to say hello to a passing member of our university, or that they can’t control their hormones enough to have a respectful interaction with people of a gender different than their own.
Appreciation. Kindness. Loyalty. Respect.
These are the values that my parents, and my rebbeim and all my morot (teachers) at Beth Tfiloh, raised me on. And it’s the value that a friend taught me when she and I were five years old – to treat others the way you want to be treated. If a five-year-old can have that level of moral clarity, then what does that say about students four times her age who don’t?
As a graduating senior, I know YU can be better. I write this article because I appreciate YU, and because I want to work with everyone here to help build YU into the model society that we all hope to proudly be part of by choosing to attend our university.
I challenge each member of this university to be kind to others. Remember that each of us is part of the family that Avraham Avinu and Sarah Imeinu struggled through a century of tremendous hardship to create. And maybe we can be more than just a university and a study hall, but rather, a place where any Jew can come and be appreciated as part of the Jewish family. Where all members of this institution – regardless of who they are – know they are valued.
Photo Caption: The five core Torah values on YU’s Wilf campus
Photo Credit: Dalya Eichler / the YU Observer