Dear Goldy:
I am utterly disgusted. I’m kind of new to the whole dating parshah phase for my children. My daughter is married, but she met her husband in school, so there was no need for a shadchan or anything like that. My 22-year-old son recently told me that he was ready to date; he has his degree, has been working, building up his savings. It was music to my ears. I didn’t want to rush him, but now he was coming to me because he didn’t know where to start.
I spoke with my sister and friends, and they told me to start attending shidduch meetings where I can “present my son” and hear about girls who may be right for him. They also gave me names and numbers of a few shadchanim. I called shadchanim. Some were very nice, and I sent them copies of my son’s dating profile. Some weren’t that nice, and some never returned my call, even when I had left them a few messages. I also went to a couple of shidduch meetings. I feel uncomfortable at those. I hate to make the comparison, but it’s almost like a cattle auction. You stand up and talk about your son or daughter or friend. After you finish your shpiel, some people ask questions. It’s like “Who wants to buy my prized stallion?” I don’t know if I’ll attend many other meetings, but I got a feel for what they are. And I understand that you have to do what you have to do.
I feel comfortable doing it one-on-one, meeting with a shadchan. My friend recently gave me the number of a shadchan she raved about, who had set up a niece and nephew of hers plus dozens of other married couples. Okay. I called. This woman was very blunt – or should I say upfront – from the moment she said hello. She asked who gave me her information, because she doesn’t set up “just anyone.” I didn’t know what she meant by that, but okay. I began telling her about my son, but she cut me off and began asking about what my husband and I do for a living, if we can afford to go away on vacations or for Yom Tov, what our financial situation was, etc. After answering a couple of questions, I told her that she was asking invasive questions that have nothing to do with my son, which is why I called her.
Here’s where it got interesting. After I said I wanted to tell her about my son and not which financial bracket I’m in, she laughed and said that obviously my friend didn’t tell me how she works. It seems that a parent, or whoever it is, must pay her an exorbitant amount of money before she even sets up the singles. If the match works and the couple gets engaged, she accepts no less than a certain amount for her shadchanus payment. I would have to commit to putting aside a certain amount of money for when my son does get married, and the girl’s parents would match that amount, so the couple can begin their marriage with a little nest egg.
Little? She was quoting four- and five-figure amounts (in the tens of thousands), and this is before my son goes out with anyone. This is agreed upon before the first date! Parents want to marry off their child to a person from a quality family (I guess quality means money, but what about midos?), so they pay her a fee, set aside an amount in a separate account for after the wedding, and the girl’s family does the same. And for each time she sets my son up, I’d have to pay a fee—but not to worry, it’s not as much as her initial fee to get started and to meet my son. What?
Out of curiosity, I asked her what her track record is, and on average how many times it takes to set up the “right couple.” She said she has a high success rate, which is why she charges what she does, and on average she sets up a single fewer than four times before she gets it right and the couple gets engaged. Four times? Four fees? Plus the initial cost, plus money in the separate account – the “nest egg” – plus her shadchanus? I’d need to take on a second job or a second mortgage to be able to afford her fees. I am not sorry to tell you that I told her that this was crazy; and while shadchanim should be paid once a shidduch is made, the amount of money she is asking for is absurd. She has turned being a shadchan into being a Fortune 500 company. She didn’t like it when I told her that this wasn’t what being a shadchan was all about. She was in it for the money rather than helping people. She disagreed and said that she is helping people – people who are grateful for her talents and have no issue paying her fees.
She surprised me by saying she knows other shadchanim who work the same way but added that she understands if I can’t afford her services; and if that’s the case, then I can call the shadchanim who won’t try as hard, because they won’t make my son their priority. She said something like, if they don’t have an incentive and will meet anyone who calls them and doesn’t know the dozens and dozens of singles they meet, chances are they won’t set up my son with the right girl – if they remember to set my son up at all, because they are so busy helping everyone. She, on the other hand, is selective of who she takes on as a client, and she meets with each single for at least an hour, getting to know them and what they want so that when she does call with a name – “and I always call, not like others who forget” – the girl will be as close of a match to the description of what my son would have told her he is looking for.
This shadchan is the shadchan for the elite. For the one percent. The way she spoke was very matter of fact. She’s telling me to commit more than $20,000 before she even meets my son, and then more when she sets him up, and then an exorbitant amount if the shidduch goes through! She even mentioned signing a contract agreeing to all this. Call me crazy. Call me old-fashioned, you can even call me poor (though I’m not), but do not call me an idiot – and that would be exactly what I would be to agree to all of this.
Goldy, I fully understand that there are professional shadchanim who do charge fees, but this? Setting up a separate account for a nest egg? What about the wedding gifts they will receive, and the salary they are already earning, and the money they have already saved? Weddings cost upwards of $50,000-$70,000 and sometimes more. I am being asked to spend double that amount straight off the bat once all is said and done – and that’s not including incidentals, and there are always incidentals. My husband and I can pay shadchanus. We can pay well. But this? It turns my stomach. We want our son married just as all other parents want their children married – but literally, at what cost?
Needless to say, I will not be dealing with this shadchan or others like her in the future. But this disgusts me. What if you can’t afford her fees, but your child is “the best”? Then your child won’t have access to the girls or boys on her list, who also may be the best? Why are we doing this to ourselves? I feel this is contributing to why there are more and more singles around. And the fact that she has parents who don’t see an issue and who pay? I’m speechless. Just because I’m not using her services doesn’t mean I love my son any less. But this is ridiculous.
Shani R.
*****
Thank you for your email, Shani.
I’ll begin by saying that I understand how you feel about shidduch meetings. Groups of ladies – and sometimes a man or two – gather and talk about the wonderful single they know. There is an audience present, some taking notes, questions are asked. It kind of does feel like a meat market. I’ve presented myself at a few. It takes a little time to get used to, and it isn’t for the faint of heart. But with all the limits we put on how singles can meet, or how we can get the word out about them, this isn’t such a bad way. But if it isn’t for you, then find another type of avenue you are comfortable with.
Yes, shadchanim like this do exist. And there are plenty of parents who seek them out and willingly pay their fees. Maybe you’re right. Maybe this is for the one percent. But it seems that there is a need for their services, and nothing is seen as ridiculous or disgusting. Different strokes for different folks, I guess. From what you described, it seems like she gives her singles the gold treatment. But is it worth her price? Good question. After I turned 30, I asked my mother to get in touch with a shadchan like the one you described. I was the one who was desperate. I was the one tired of going out with one wrong person after the next. I almost convinced my mother, but she knocked common sense into me, and the phone call was never made.
I don’t like this type of shadchan. They treat this all like a business, but it works for them and those they set up. If people were disgusted and appalled by them, they wouldn’t still be doing what they’re doing. I also don’t like the way she made it sound (from what you wrote): that shadchanim who don’t run their “business” like she does won’t make your son – or anyone else’s child – their priority. I believe that all shadchanim do the best they can. I must believe that, even when I hear about a rogue shadchan who needs to have her shadchan license revoked, but I like to think they are few and far between. I have chased many shadchanim down through email, text, and voicemail. I have called them week after week, and left message after message for them. I remembered their words during our one and only short meeting: “Hunt me down. Keep trying to get a hold of me. I’m not easy to reach.” I should’ve said, “Then how are you going to have time to sit and concentrate on me or any other single? If you don’t have time, take a break from meeting singles. There’s no shame in that!” But I was desperate, so I chased the shadchan. No shadchan should be that difficult to get a hold of, and if she is, maybe she isn’t the right shadchan for you.
The shadchan who helped my sister and brother-in-law happens to be my cousin’s brother-in-law. In fact, he saw my sister at my cousin’s wedding to his sister-in-law. He was great at handling my sister’s shidduch. He always answered the phone, gave good advice, didn’t try to convince her not to listen to what she wanted, even if it scared her. When it came time for me to enter shidduchim, we couldn’t get him on the phone. My mother left message after message. She finally contacted my cousin and told him that we were trying to reach his brother-in-law, the shadchan. Long story short, my cousin called back and said his brother-in-law was insulted at the amount of shadchanus my parents paid him after my sister got engaged, so he didn’t want to work with us again. What!? Seriously? I remember my parents discussing how much to pay the shadchan. It was their first child who became a kallah. They asked friends who had married children. Finally, my parents agreed on an amount. I still think that the amount was extremely generous. But now, the shadchan is a “big-time shadchan,” and wouldn’t dream of working with us again. He was insulted by my family once; he didn’t want to be insulted again. Insulted? We were the ones insulted by this. My parents would have paid whatever fee he would have asked for, but he never asked for a specific amount. And now, he wouldn’t even return a phone call. Well, the joke’s on him. I met my husband at work. No shadchanus needed to be given to anyone (no, not to the rich CEO either).
Shani, this is just how some people are. Once we see their true colors or how they “do business,” we can steer clear of them if we don’t agree with their ways. Go find a shadchan whom you feel can help your son as best as she or he can, who will make him a priority, and who doesn’t require you to sell a vital organ in order to pay the “fee” – shadchanus.
In my mind, I see two little bubbies, about five feet in height wearing tichels, walking up a dirt road of a shtetl to meet for coffee once a week. During their discussion, they’d talk about the singles of the town and who would be good for one another. Maybe a chicken and cow would be exchanged, or a pair of new shoes and a dress. But that is how I think of how shadchanim started back in the day. The times are sure changing. We need to adjust and pick a lane we feel comfortable in.
Hatzlachah to you all.
Goldy Krantz is an LMSW and a lifelong Queens resident, guest lecturer, and author of the shidduch dating book, The Best of My Worst and children’s book Where Has Zaidy Gone?
She can be contacted at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it..
