A first-grader, smilingly giddily as she received get-well notes from classmates and balloons from her teachers. A young teacher, exhausted with grief, mutters thanks during hugs from her fellow teachers paying a shivah call. A parent driving forty minutes each way to take a beloved teacher to the right emergency room, says no thanks are necessary. A picture is text messaged among the faculty of a baby boy born to one teacher. Another welcomes her new son into the covenant of the Jewish people at a brit milah and is grateful to have members of the school community present. That was this week at Albert Einstein Academy.
We did not need snow days to remind us to seize the educational moments at hand, the living moments in which all our learning is meant to become action. We may be a school that “fosters inquisitive learners, critical thinkers, and dynamic leaders” as a matter of mission; as a matter of principle, though, we are a school that teaches the soul.
How do you teach the soul? Well, it may sound simple, though it most definitely is not: from the soul. The most important text in our school is not a book; it is the teacher in the classroom. Her experiences, her actions, her mindset are expressions of her soul that inform our students more deeply than any reading, project, conversation, or worksheet. That is why the faculty focuses on demonstrating our own learning, our own struggles, and our abiding values. Our lives are messages writ large; if we own them as educators, we are messengers of learning.
As a new rabbinical student, I was asked to lead morning prayers early my first summer working at Camp Ramah Darom. I was unprepared, knowingly the words haltingly and the proper melody poorly. The Director guided me out of the metaphorical corner I was backed into by telling me that I would teach the campers far more than the service if I saw facing my fear as a teaching moment. That summer would prove to be the one in which my campers dared most.
So it was that, in the middle of the life-filled week, I taught our students about the Jewish lifecycle. I reviewed key moments, mentioning much of what our community was experiencing, and then I drew a line. Jewishly, I taught, life is not a straight shot; it is not linear. Jewishly, life is a circle. Our lives come and go and come around again (with or without reincarnation). As we age, we mourn losses and welcome new lives, and we take care of each other each step of the way.
This lesson is not in our “curriculum;” it is in our souls. While I believe that we teach to our students’ souls every day; this week, it was clear that, as a school, we were messengers of learning about life and how to be in it fully. Sometimes, being the messenger is the strongest message, just ask the first-grader’s mother who wrote: “Reason # 1,000,000 we love AEA? Head of school Jeremy Winaker just hand delivered hand made cards from all [her] friends and balloons from her teachers:) .” I was just the messenger. What message of learning will you deliver?