
|
|

November 29, 2002
Orthodox and secular
NECHEMIA MEYERS SPECIAL TO THE JEWISH BULLETIN
"If my children could study together happily with kids from
a dozen different countries at international schools in Bulgaria
and Thailand when we were stationed there by the foreign ministry,
I couldn't see why they shouldn't study together with Orthodox youngsters
when we came back," says Moriah Kariv, a resident of Modi'in,
a rapidly developing city midway between Tel-Aviv and Jerusalem.
"As it happens, it has been possible because we are lucky enough
to be in a town which has not only the usual separate schools for
children from secular and observant families, but also one that
caters for youngsters from both backgrounds," she continued.
"In addition to general studies, they learn what Judaism is
all about, but practise it in whatever form is acceptable to them
and their parents."
One of the people most responsible for the establishment of that
school, Bet Sefer Mamlachti Ziyan, is Ya'akov (Yanki) Ilovitch,
a lawyer who himself attended a regular religious school.
"While this one is not," he noted, "my son's level
of Jewish knowledge hasn't suffered as a result. Admittedly it is
not so easy to learn about the laws of Sabbath observance when some
of the kids in the classroom don't observe them, but it is just
as well that he understands that not everybody thinks the same way."
The school has served as a bridge between religious and secular
parents, as well as between religious and secular children. They
work together on planning committees and even have joint weekends
from time to time. After Friday night dinner and prayers (for some),
Saturday is devoted to a variety of activities. Some people sit
around and chat while others go swimming or driving. While differences
remain, there is fruitful interaction between two sections of the
community that all too often see each other as adversaries, rather
than partners in a common cause.
Principal Irit Dori speaks enthusiastically about the development
of the three-year-old school and of a steady flow of new applicants.
"Now we go up to the fifth grade," she said. "But
there are plans for a sixth grade and then a junior high school
in the not so distant future."
The school in Modi'in, now linked to the Herzog Institute, started
out by being affiliated with TALI (a Hebrew acronym meaning
"enrichment of Jewish studies"), a body that is devoted
to strengthening the emphasis on Jewish studies in secular schools.
Established 25 years ago on the initiative of the Masorti
(Conservative) movement in co-operation with the Israeli Ministry
of Education, it now encompasses 2,100 youngsters in some 50 elementary
schools and 65 nursery schools or kindergartens.
Here and there, there are other tentative initiatives in the same
direction. In the yuppie community of Kochav Yair, inhabited mainly
by high army and ex-army officers, as well as by professional people,
the religious and secular elementary schools share a common courtyard
where the youngsters from both play together and where joint ceremonies
for Independence Day and many other holidays are held.
In an election season, when religious and secular politicians are
busy slinging mud at one another, this is at least one thing for
which we can be grateful.
^TOP
|
|