Dear Rabbi Beren,

I’ve had children, both boys and girls, go through mainstream Jewish schools; some were bullied, some not. What I’ve seen is that when a child is bullied and perceived negatively, that perception becomes very powerful. You can’t just change one person’s mind; you have to change how a whole group thinks. How is it possible to shift a perception that so many people share and that seems completely set in stone?

Dovid

It’s that time of the year again when donuts will soon be everywhere. Those luscious and creamy confections will be in abundance as far as the eye can see. Large boxes, whose mysterious contents are hidden from view, will appear in the schools where I work. Grocery stores will display them with tongs at the ready to plunk into waiting boxes. My mouth waters just thinking about biting into a soft, fresh donut – something that is forbidden to me.

I haven’t had a donut since last Chanukah, and I’m proud of my year-long hiatus. Intellectually, I know that eating a donut can make me sick. Psychologically, I know that eating one donut is like eating one potato chip, and I’ve only met one person in my entire life who can pull off such a feat. I’m better off not indulging in any soft and creamy cravings, but it will be hard when I go grocery shopping and see wall-to-wall donuts. It won’t take much to convince me that eating them would be a festive thing to do.

My father, Henry Hausdorff, z”l, had a very heavy and cumbersome menorah. Made of solid brass and estimated to be 200 to 250 years old, based on some research, it might be a museum piece. Over 35 years ago, I saw a display of similar ones in in Tel Aviv at the ANU – Museum of the Jewish People (formerly the Nahum Goldmann Museum of the Jewish Diaspora.) Back then, those menorahs were valued between $800 to $1,200! Current values begin at $3,000, with more intricate ones valued much more.

According to that display, the menorahs were made in Poland. This makes me chuckle since Dad’s paternal family was very proud of their German ancestry. (Actually, the family roots can be traced to Posen, which was the Prussian name of the Polish town of Poznan, when it was part of East Prussia – from about 1815 until after World War I.)

Back to Dad’s menorah: Following his petira, I put the menorah on top of a tall bookcase in our house. We never used it. Dad’s menorah stayed on the bookcase, slowly accumulating a thick layer of dust.

Sarah Bickford is a young member of our community, a former Bais Yaakov student and former teacher at the JCC and Khal Chasidim childcare programs. Tamar Schulman, director of Khal Chassidim daycare said that Sarah is a much beloved, creative, and thrifty teacher.

Unfortunately, Sarah cannot work anymore. After a severe illness, her kidneys no longer function properly, and she must spend most of her time taking care of her health. Sarah’s diet is very restricted, and she is often very tired and weak. To stay alive, she must go to dialysis three times a week for three-and-a-half hours each time. If the kidneys are not working properly, the dialysis machine does the kidneys’ job of filtering the blood and removing waste products from the body.

Sarah has been accepted into a program at John Hopkins Hospital Transplant Center, which means she will be able to receive kidney if one becomes available. This could take from two to seven years according to the doctors. She must always be prepared to receive a kidney if a suitable donor is found. She works with a nurse transplant coordinator to make sure she is prepared.

Beth Abraham shul, affectionally known as “Hertzberg’s,” is tucked away on a small side street, a simple brick-faced building set back on a green lawn. You could pass it by without ever guessing its history and unique personality among the shuls of Baltimore.

I had the opportunity to interview Mrs. Chava Rosenfeld, the daughter of its first rav, Rabbi Tzvi Elimelech, zt”l, and Mrs. Nechama Shifra, a”h, Hertzberg. I was interested to hear from Mrs. Rosenfeld about her parents, her shul, and how life has changed since she was a girl growing up in Forest Park.

Naomi Shabtai dedicated 24 years of her professional life to the Kennedy Krieger Institute, serving as a Service Coordinator for the Kodem Kol program through the Baltimore Infants and Toddlers Program. Her work was not just a career – it was a calling rooted in her deep commitment to her community.

As a proud member of Baltimore’s Orthodox Jewish community, Naomi understood firsthand the unique needs and cultural sensitivities of the families she served. In 2002, she was approached by her program supervisors with a visionary task: to launch the Kodem Kol program, designed specifically to support Orthodox Jewish families in Baltimore City. At the time, this community was significantly underrepresented in referrals. Thanks to a grant from the Maryland State Department of Education, Naomi took the helm and built the program from the ground up. Her leadership, cultural insight, and unwavering dedication made Kodem Kol a trusted and vital resource.

Naomi made a profound difference in the lives of the families and children she served. Her compassion, advocacy, and tireless efforts helped countless families access the support they needed, often during their most vulnerable moments.

Pirkei Avos starts with three lessons: Be patient with the administration of justice, raise many students, and set a fence around the Torah. (Avos 1:1). Rav Mattisyahu Salomon, zt”l, Mashgiach of the Gateshead Yeshiva and then of Beis Medrash Govoha in Lakewood, lived his life in accordance with these lessons. He judged others favorably, he was a rebbi to thousands across the globe, and he was always looking to protect the kedusha of klal Yisrael.

Rabbi Avrohom Birnbaum has recently written a biography of Rav Mattisyahu (ArtScroll 2025), bringing to the Jewish reading public a collection of beautiful stories demonstrating the humility, warmth, clarity of vision, and boundless love of klal Yisrael’s mashgiach.

A few months after Rav Mattisyahu’s installation as mashgiach ruchni of Beis Medrash Govoha in Lakewood, a group of several of his former students in the Gateshead Yeshivah left their families for a few weeks to spend Elul with Rav Mattisyahu one more time. This was a beautiful reminder of the kesher (connection) these students had with their mashgiach and the impression he left on Jews worldwide. Rav Mattisyahu, the biography, brings us into the home of a man who lived a life of yiras Shamayim, nesius b’ol, and ahavas Torah from a young age.

In August and September 2025, I again had the privilege to volunteer as a staff physical therapist in ADI-Negev Rehabilitation Hospital in Ofakim, Israel. As I have written on these pages previously, I am fortunate to have a skill set which is much in demand in Israel to treat our injured defense force soldiers and civilians since the war began in October 2023. This was my third stint working at the hospital, but this time was different. On this trip, I was struck by the successes of some unexpected members of the rehabilitation medicine team, ones who rarely get the recognition they deserve.

To give some perspective, ADI-Negev Hospital is located in the Otef Aza, the
“Gaza Envelope,” just a few miles from the Gaza border. Most of the soldiers and civilians we treated – including the ones who were injured on October 7^th in Sderot, Ofakim, and Beeri – live or work in the surrounding cities, moshavim, and yishuvim. In fact, some staff and many of the patients know each other from prior experiences, which further enhanced the camaraderie and cheer-leading that went on daily in the clinic. The encouragement of one patient to another to push further and harder was a daily mantra. The clinic’s mood and environment were constantly upbeat despite the severity of the injuries and trauma. A major factor in the positivity that one experiences there is the presence of a remarkable, young, energetic, and cohesive medical and rehabilitation staff. But perhaps the greatest influence in spreading encouragement and cheer in the hospital are the medical clowns.

Tamar and Rochel are both planning an evening out. They are going to the same place, meeting the same person, and spending the same amount of time there. Tamar is looking forward to the event, and Rochel is dreading it. How could the same event bring such different reactions? The answer, of course, is they are going to a PTA meeting. Tamar knows that her child is doing well in school and looks forward to getting a “nachas report.” Rochel is not looking forward to hearing about all the trouble her child is having.

PTA meetings are a longstanding ritual for parents of school-age children – at least they were in my day. Now, though the ritual is the same, the more up-to-date term seems to be PTC, for parent-teacher conferences. Whatever…

Since I enjoy talking to people and collecting their experiences, I thought it would be interesting to survey some parents, as well as children, for their thoughts. It can be difficult to reach people, however, so imagine my joy when I found myself in the JCC locker room with representatives of three schools. I had a great conversation opener and soon found that they had definite opinions about PTA meetings.

The overwhelming majority of the children in our community go to school; it is an expected part of life. But Baltimore also has a strong contingent of homeschoolers. A large part of the homeschooling community transfers to regular school for high school, so I thought it would be interesting to hear about that transition from the perspective of some former homeschoolers. This article is about three girls who are all now attending traditional schools.

Naami

Naami* just started going to school this year. As more of her homeschooling friends have started to go to school she wanted to go too, and her main reason is for the social life. Here are her words comparing regular school to homeschool:

“In school, you follow a curriculum, and there is a lot of pressure to stay at the same pace as your classmates. Homeschool lets you go at your own pace and learn pretty much whatever you want.

“There are many, many more social opportunities in school, as opposed to homeschool, where you have a small social life. With school, you get home late, and you also must study a lot. I sometimes feel like I don’t have enough time to myself, and I really wish the school day was a little shorter. In homeschool, I never had to study, but I still learned.”

When Naami was asked if she would homeschool her own children, she answered, “I personally don’t feel like I had the best experience homeschooling, but that was really toward the end, after my siblings and friends started going to school. I think it’s important to consider this if you are planning on homeschooling. Your child will probably have a much better experience if she/he is homeschooled with siblings or other children. I don’t think I will homeschool my own children, because I want them to have the experience I didn’t have. However, it depends very much on the needs of the child.”