This week, parents in the Tri-State Area gleefully celebrated the return of their children to school. No doubt they are thrilled that their children will be learning Torah and broadening the horizons of their minds again. But on a more practical level, after a couple of weeks of “Ma, I’m soooooo bored,” mothers were more than willing to wake up early to help send their children off to school. Now, they have a few weeks’ reprieve before the Chol HaMoed morning pestering begins: “Ma, where are we goooooooing today?”
In years past, before school begins, I shared with my children that I remember vividly my first day in second grade. Our family had just moved to Monsey from the Lower East Side during the previous summer. For me, it wasn’t just a different school; it was a different world.
As I sat down in my seat in the Yeshiva of Spring Valley that first day, I vainly tried to restrain my tears. My rebbi, Rabbi Chaim Trenk, immediately noticed my discomfort and told me he had special “medicine” for someone in my situation. He proceeded to pour a few candies into my hand. Aside from being a great rebbi, I remember the warmth and care he displayed during those first few challenging days. Within a week, coming to school became part of my routine, and those initial pangs of anxiety and discomfort dissipated.
Despite being settled in Monsey and in the yeshivah for a few years, I would still feel some anxiety at the beginning of every school year on the first day. Truthfully, even now as a rebbi, those same feelings still crop up each year. I would imagine most students and teachers feel the same way.
Unfamiliarity always breeds anxiety and discomfort. It’s all the more so when that unease is combined with expectations and fear of not living up to those expectations.
The year our oldest son Shalom began high school at my alma mater, Yeshiva Shaarei Torah, I began my current position at Yeshiva Heichal HaTorah in Teaneck, New Jersey, at the same time. I remember that at the time, I felt like a yeshivah bachur again, especially when people asked Shalom when he was starting and then asked me when I was starting.
New beginnings are exciting, but they are never easy. Accepting a new position entails learning the culture of the environment, figuring out expectations, and getting to know new personalities.
During the first few days of school, one always sees a lot of new shoes. Wearing new shoes is exciting, but it’s also uncomfortable. It’s only when the shoes adapt to the wearer’s foot that they become truly comfortable.
This week, our family celebrated Shalom’s marriage to his wonderful kallah, Aliza (née Fruchter). The following day, we said goodbye to our son Avi as he left to learn in Yeshiva Mercaz HaTorah in Yerushalayim for the year. These are wonderful and coveted changes. But they are still significant changes, and changes always require patience and adjustment.
As we approach Rosh HaShanah, we begin to think about areas of our life and personality that we would like to improve upon. Doing so requires change, and even minute changes make us feel uncomfortable. It helps to bear in mind that the discomfort is only temporary because, with time, the change we work so hard to create becomes part of our routine and eventually part of our identity.
So, the question is: Are we willing to bear that temporary discomfort to experience the changes we want for ourselves?
The answer depends on just how badly we want it!
Rabbi Dani Staum is a popular speaker, columnist, and author. He is a rebbi in Heichal HaTorah in Teaneck, New Jersey, principal of Mesivta Orchos Yosher in Spring Valley, New York, and a member of the administration of Camp Dora Golding. His writings can be found at strivinghigher.com. Looking for an inspirational speaker or scholar-in-residence? Contact Rabbi Staum at 845-641-5094 or at This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it..