Genesis 12:1-17:27
Avram's story actually begins at the end of the last portion, where we learn that he was born ten generations and 2 + 35 + 30 + 34 + 30 + 32 + 30 + 29 + 70 years after the flood -- 292 years total. And we know from Gen. 9:28 that Noah lived for 350 years after the flood. Therefore, when Avram was growing up, it's entirely possible that he could have gone to visit his Great-Great-Great-Great-Great-Great-Great-Great-Grandpa Noah in the Really Really Old Folks Home. In fact, they'd have shared 58 years worth of Father's Day cards, birthday gifts, fishing trips, and all that. Or maybe they didn't have much of a relationship, since Noah probably had thousands of other great-to-the-eighth grandkids and only so much room in his photo album.
This is one of those parts that turned me off of Torah when I was a kid. How much credibility can you give a text that allows for a human biology whereby people live for hundreds of years, begetting sons and daughters right up to the end? I got the idea that these genealogy lines were written in some kind of code, and that the weird names and random numbers actually had a different significance to anyone who could decipher them. And maybe they do, and nobody's cracked the code just yet.
Anyway, Lech-Lecha... How must Avram have felt upon receiving a blessing from God including a promise that his children would inherit the land--when he had no children and the land in question was so famine-ridden that Avram had to immediately escape to Egypt in order to survive. "Good to know my imaginary children will be coming into a dustbowl someday!" He must have been upset and distracted, because otherwise there's no excuse for that whole "Sarai is my sister" plan he comes up with next. No, even with upsetment and distraction, Avram has no excuse for such an ill-advised and badly-executed plan.
Avram seems to suffer from multiple personality disorder in all the stories we have in this parshah and the next. He can show great faith and piety in following God's order for an adult circumcision, paranoia and cowardice in Egypt by passing his wife off as his sister, peerless hospitality and generosity in welcoming the angels to his tent, and good humor in receiving their message. He shows no will of his own in the face of Sarai's demand that he get rid of her rival and rival's son, but in Genesis 14:1-24 Avram suddenly becomes an action hero with his own head-bashing army of mercenaries. That probably was my favorite part, even if it seemed to have absolutely nothing to do with the rest of the story at all.
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Torah and Me: Parshah Noach
Genesis 6:9 through 11:32
Because of the way these portions break, we lose Noah's original introduction in Parshah Bereishit. It's an incomplete story without those few lines. According to what we have in front of us in Parshah Noach, the world was destroyed just because it had become "full of robbery." What exactly could people have owned back then that would have been worth stealing, to the point where theft would become an apocalypse-justifying event? The introduction in the last portion, however, includes that weird bit about the Nephilim. There were fallen angels in the world, or perhaps aliens, and that led to angel/alien/human hybrids. Now that might be enough of an abomination to justify wiping the world clean and starting over from scratch.
Also in this portion: The Tower of Babel. Traditionally, the scattering of the tribes and confusion of tongues was seen as a punishment because the people tried to reach God's domain. Or because they refused to disperse themselves across the earth. Or because they got along too well and showed too much cooperation. Personally, I think it was more of a challenge, like when you defeat a level in a video game and your reward is to move on to a bigger, better, more difficult level.
In this metaphor, Eden was a playable demo. You can see walk around the game world but there are no enemies to defeat and not a whole lot to do. The only challenge is to avoid eating fruit from one particular tree. Day after day, if you don't eat that fruit, you win! Eventually, with or without the serpent, Adam and/or Eve were destined to break down and eat that fruit. Once they've done so, proving that they have the ability to make choices of their own, God boots them into Level One of the real game.
In the time of Noah, there was no longer a winning move possible to advance any further--so God hit the reset button. That allowed the residents of Babel to master their version of the game-world and power up to the next level. "Nice tower. Now try that again, only this time your buddies are a thousand miles away and they only speak Sumerian!"
Maybe the challenges we face in this world are meant as rewards because we've earned the right to play the game of life on a higher level. Something to ponder.
Because of the way these portions break, we lose Noah's original introduction in Parshah Bereishit. It's an incomplete story without those few lines. According to what we have in front of us in Parshah Noach, the world was destroyed just because it had become "full of robbery." What exactly could people have owned back then that would have been worth stealing, to the point where theft would become an apocalypse-justifying event? The introduction in the last portion, however, includes that weird bit about the Nephilim. There were fallen angels in the world, or perhaps aliens, and that led to angel/alien/human hybrids. Now that might be enough of an abomination to justify wiping the world clean and starting over from scratch.
Also in this portion: The Tower of Babel. Traditionally, the scattering of the tribes and confusion of tongues was seen as a punishment because the people tried to reach God's domain. Or because they refused to disperse themselves across the earth. Or because they got along too well and showed too much cooperation. Personally, I think it was more of a challenge, like when you defeat a level in a video game and your reward is to move on to a bigger, better, more difficult level.
In this metaphor, Eden was a playable demo. You can see walk around the game world but there are no enemies to defeat and not a whole lot to do. The only challenge is to avoid eating fruit from one particular tree. Day after day, if you don't eat that fruit, you win! Eventually, with or without the serpent, Adam and/or Eve were destined to break down and eat that fruit. Once they've done so, proving that they have the ability to make choices of their own, God boots them into Level One of the real game.
In the time of Noah, there was no longer a winning move possible to advance any further--so God hit the reset button. That allowed the residents of Babel to master their version of the game-world and power up to the next level. "Nice tower. Now try that again, only this time your buddies are a thousand miles away and they only speak Sumerian!"
Maybe the challenges we face in this world are meant as rewards because we've earned the right to play the game of life on a higher level. Something to ponder.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Toward the Computer License
For one of my assignments, I taught a pair of lessons on computer hardware and software. It was so exciting to finally see the kids using the computers instead of looking forlornly at them day after day from across the room. My mentor and I are both interested in technology, and she recently developed a set of benchmarks based on state standards and reasonable expectation of what students should know at each grade level. Computer use has never been taught at our school in an explicit way, so what students know is whatever they've managed to pick up. It's piecemeal, full of holes, and varies from student to student.
The best advice I got was to "assume they know nothing and start from there." For the first lesson I went with the absolute most basic knowledge (What is a keyboard?) and skills (How do you turn the computer on?), but I also gave an assessment where students could demonstrate their prior knowledge. Based on that assessment I was able to plan a more intermediate lesson for the next week (e.g., How do we adjust line-spacing in a paragraph?).
The goal is to have kids earn a "computer license" by demonstrating knowledge and ability sufficient for them to work independently on a computer. Then we can solve the problem of having more students in our classroom than computers by sending the licensed students to work in another classroom. That will open up all kinds of possible new assignments.
I have plans for a third lesson involving computer networking and file structures but I won't be able to implement it until we figure out the best way for students to access files from computers that don't yet talk to each other.
The best advice I got was to "assume they know nothing and start from there." For the first lesson I went with the absolute most basic knowledge (What is a keyboard?) and skills (How do you turn the computer on?), but I also gave an assessment where students could demonstrate their prior knowledge. Based on that assessment I was able to plan a more intermediate lesson for the next week (e.g., How do we adjust line-spacing in a paragraph?).
The goal is to have kids earn a "computer license" by demonstrating knowledge and ability sufficient for them to work independently on a computer. Then we can solve the problem of having more students in our classroom than computers by sending the licensed students to work in another classroom. That will open up all kinds of possible new assignments.
I have plans for a third lesson involving computer networking and file structures but I won't be able to implement it until we figure out the best way for students to access files from computers that don't yet talk to each other.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Torah and Me: Parshah Bereishit
Genesis 1:1-6:8
My Torah study begins and it's just like Thanksgiving dinner at Grandma: the portions are huge! Bereishit isn't just the creation of the world, it also includes all of Adam and Eve, Cain and Abel, and yadda-yadda-yadda through ten generations to Noah. That's right, Noah actually puts in an appearance here! The portion that starts with God creating the world ends with His decision to destroy it after every human but Noah falls short of expectation. If not for Noah, this would have been a very short book.
In this read-through, I really felt for Cain. His gift to God is rejected, and his brother's accepted, based on some criteria that's never adequately explained to him--or to us, except through Midrash. But did Cain have access to Midrash? Somehow I doubt it. Then he commits history's first murder--or does he? I would love to defend Cain in a court of law because I honestly don't believe he had the mens rea to commit this crime. How could he intend murder if he doesn't understand the meaning of death, and how could he understand the meaning of death if nobody in the history of the world up to that point had ever died?
Case in point, all of Cain's life experience tells him that night after night, all people lie down, close their eyes, and lose consciousness. Then, in the morning, they invariably wake up and go about their lives. On a pleasant afternoon, folks might also do this for an hour or two while they digest their lunch.
When Cain hits his brother, Abel falls down, closes his eyes, and loses consciousness just like he's taking a nap. Of course Cain would have expected Abel to wake up refreshed, maybe with a nasty lump on his noggin but otherwise perfectly fine. Maybe the blood should have been a hint that something had gone wrong, but as far as Cain knows, Abel is up and about already by the time God starts inquiring as to his whereabouts. Under the circumstances, "Am I my brother's keeper?" isn't an answer that's entirely outside the realm of expectation. He could have helpfully pointed God in the general direction of Abel's last known whereabouts, but he's probably still pissed about that whole "need to improve" speech and has to wonder why an all-knowing God would be asking such pointless questions.
The Torah loves to punish firstborn sons: Cain, Ishmael, Esau, etc. It makes me think Abraham must have an older brother we don't know about, possibly because he spent his life locked in an attic or something.
My Torah study begins and it's just like Thanksgiving dinner at Grandma: the portions are huge! Bereishit isn't just the creation of the world, it also includes all of Adam and Eve, Cain and Abel, and yadda-yadda-yadda through ten generations to Noah. That's right, Noah actually puts in an appearance here! The portion that starts with God creating the world ends with His decision to destroy it after every human but Noah falls short of expectation. If not for Noah, this would have been a very short book.
In this read-through, I really felt for Cain. His gift to God is rejected, and his brother's accepted, based on some criteria that's never adequately explained to him--or to us, except through Midrash. But did Cain have access to Midrash? Somehow I doubt it. Then he commits history's first murder--or does he? I would love to defend Cain in a court of law because I honestly don't believe he had the mens rea to commit this crime. How could he intend murder if he doesn't understand the meaning of death, and how could he understand the meaning of death if nobody in the history of the world up to that point had ever died?
Case in point, all of Cain's life experience tells him that night after night, all people lie down, close their eyes, and lose consciousness. Then, in the morning, they invariably wake up and go about their lives. On a pleasant afternoon, folks might also do this for an hour or two while they digest their lunch.
When Cain hits his brother, Abel falls down, closes his eyes, and loses consciousness just like he's taking a nap. Of course Cain would have expected Abel to wake up refreshed, maybe with a nasty lump on his noggin but otherwise perfectly fine. Maybe the blood should have been a hint that something had gone wrong, but as far as Cain knows, Abel is up and about already by the time God starts inquiring as to his whereabouts. Under the circumstances, "Am I my brother's keeper?" isn't an answer that's entirely outside the realm of expectation. He could have helpfully pointed God in the general direction of Abel's last known whereabouts, but he's probably still pissed about that whole "need to improve" speech and has to wonder why an all-knowing God would be asking such pointless questions.
The Torah loves to punish firstborn sons: Cain, Ishmael, Esau, etc. It makes me think Abraham must have an older brother we don't know about, possibly because he spent his life locked in an attic or something.
Thursday, October 15, 2009
Away Team Mission #2
It was interesting for me to visit schools that are longer-established and have more permanent and modern facilities than I'm used to at MetroWest. MetroWest is such a relatively new school that they are still developing a school culture, making plans for a new building, and expanding a new grade each year until they become a full-service K-8 elementary and middle school. JCDS and Cohen-Hillel have already gone through this process, so might be seen as models of what MetroWest eventually wants to become.
I can only imagine how different it must be teaching an elementary class in a school that goes through middle school rather than one that tops out at 5th grade. Or being a student in such a school. Seeing older kids on a daily basis and having their work posted in the hallways must give 4th graders, for example, a better sense of where they're going and what is possible for them in the future.
Having a middle school on site also means that specialized resources, like science rooms, are theoretically available. I wonder if it would be possible for 4th graders to ever sit in on an 8th grade science class and observe what goes on, just for a period or two. Our kids have "kindergarten buddies" and benefit from being peer-mentors to them, but what if they also had a chance to hang out with "8th grade buddies"?
I was especially impressed at Cohen-Hillel at how the school used other resources within the community. Being next to a Jewish Community Center, for example, makes it possible for them to use those facilities for physical education. There's also a synagogue on the other side of the parking lot, which couldn't be more convenient for community events.
Within the classrooms I was intrigued by different classroom and community cultures reflected by rules (wearing kippot during prayer is optional at JDCS), environmental displays (much more Hebrew in the environment than we have in our classroom), and activities (I liked the celebration chart in the 3rd grade classroom at Cohen-Hillel and the morning question at JCDS). Larger class size creates a very different feel than I'm used to as well.
The important lesson is that our classroom has an infinite number of "parallel universe" counterparts where things are different. Not necessarily better or worse, and what might work better or worse for another class wouldn't necessarily apply to ours, but it's important to know what else is out there.
I can only imagine how different it must be teaching an elementary class in a school that goes through middle school rather than one that tops out at 5th grade. Or being a student in such a school. Seeing older kids on a daily basis and having their work posted in the hallways must give 4th graders, for example, a better sense of where they're going and what is possible for them in the future.
Having a middle school on site also means that specialized resources, like science rooms, are theoretically available. I wonder if it would be possible for 4th graders to ever sit in on an 8th grade science class and observe what goes on, just for a period or two. Our kids have "kindergarten buddies" and benefit from being peer-mentors to them, but what if they also had a chance to hang out with "8th grade buddies"?
I was especially impressed at Cohen-Hillel at how the school used other resources within the community. Being next to a Jewish Community Center, for example, makes it possible for them to use those facilities for physical education. There's also a synagogue on the other side of the parking lot, which couldn't be more convenient for community events.
Within the classrooms I was intrigued by different classroom and community cultures reflected by rules (wearing kippot during prayer is optional at JDCS), environmental displays (much more Hebrew in the environment than we have in our classroom), and activities (I liked the celebration chart in the 3rd grade classroom at Cohen-Hillel and the morning question at JCDS). Larger class size creates a very different feel than I'm used to as well.
The important lesson is that our classroom has an infinite number of "parallel universe" counterparts where things are different. Not necessarily better or worse, and what might work better or worse for another class wouldn't necessarily apply to ours, but it's important to know what else is out there.
Monday, October 5, 2009
The End of Summer Vacation?
I've often heard that summer vacation from school is a holdover from the days when children were needed to help bring in the harvest on their family farms. I never bought this story because it really makes no sense. If July and August are such prime harvest times, why do the pick-your-own farms do such heavy business in September--or even in October, which is when the Jewish harvest festival of Sukkot falls this year. Wouldn't planting season be at least as labor intensive as harvest season? And why would non-farm families have ever agreed to disadvantage their own children by unnecessarily stopping their learning?
If the harvest vacation myth were true, you'd expect rural districts to give time off during the spring planting season and more time off during the fall harvest, and for urban districts to have year-round schedules. In fact, this seems to have been the case at one time. Until the 1840s, rural schools ran a winter term from December to March and a summer term from May to August, while urban schools were in session 48 weeks out of the year.
It wasn't until education reformers decided it was unhealthy for kids to study in sweltering hot classrooms that urban and rural schools both shifted to the September to June schedule we follow today. It was a lack of air conditioning that gave us summer vacation, not the needs of an agrarian society.
Either way, technology has long since addressed the underlying issues that gave us summer vacation. The only barrier left to ending summer vacation is the sense of entitlement that students, teachers, and families have acquired over the generations. Two months of academic backsliding is a small price to pay for all that summer freedom, right?
Education Secretary Arne Duncan has decided we need to close the achievement gap between the United States and other countries. To that end he is proposing longer school days, school on weekends, and/or a longer school year.
In terms of lesson planning, I can see how it would be nice to have an extra hour to work with in the day, or a few extra days to finish a unit without rushing through the material. I could almost be on board with it until Secretary Duncan justifies his position by telling the Associated Press: "Our school calendar is based upon the agrarian economy and not too many of our kids are working the fields today."
How do you get to be Secretary of Education by propping up your arguments with such illogical and easily debunked myths? Is he being disingenuous or does he actually believe this to be true? And how can you plan the future of American education if you don't have an accurate understanding about the past of American education?
Do you think we should lengthen the school year and if so, how?
If the harvest vacation myth were true, you'd expect rural districts to give time off during the spring planting season and more time off during the fall harvest, and for urban districts to have year-round schedules. In fact, this seems to have been the case at one time. Until the 1840s, rural schools ran a winter term from December to March and a summer term from May to August, while urban schools were in session 48 weeks out of the year.
It wasn't until education reformers decided it was unhealthy for kids to study in sweltering hot classrooms that urban and rural schools both shifted to the September to June schedule we follow today. It was a lack of air conditioning that gave us summer vacation, not the needs of an agrarian society.
Either way, technology has long since addressed the underlying issues that gave us summer vacation. The only barrier left to ending summer vacation is the sense of entitlement that students, teachers, and families have acquired over the generations. Two months of academic backsliding is a small price to pay for all that summer freedom, right?
Education Secretary Arne Duncan has decided we need to close the achievement gap between the United States and other countries. To that end he is proposing longer school days, school on weekends, and/or a longer school year.
In terms of lesson planning, I can see how it would be nice to have an extra hour to work with in the day, or a few extra days to finish a unit without rushing through the material. I could almost be on board with it until Secretary Duncan justifies his position by telling the Associated Press: "Our school calendar is based upon the agrarian economy and not too many of our kids are working the fields today."
How do you get to be Secretary of Education by propping up your arguments with such illogical and easily debunked myths? Is he being disingenuous or does he actually believe this to be true? And how can you plan the future of American education if you don't have an accurate understanding about the past of American education?
Do you think we should lengthen the school year and if so, how?
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Away Team Mission #1
In addition to university courses at Brandeis and my internship at MetroWest Jewish Day School, the DeLeT program includes the occasional field trip. Today a group of DeLeT fellows converged on JCDS Boston, where two of our colleagues are serving their internships. We received a guided tour of the classrooms and a got a good feel for the similarities and differences from our own.
This is the day school I visited in April, when I was first considering the DeLeT program. The types of observations I made back then were different from the ones I made today, with the benefit of theory and experience, in the very same room. I take that as a positive sign of how much I've learned in just a few months. And it was exciting to see two of my classmates in teaching roles.
In a week or two I will get to play home team host to a group coming to view my classroom as well. Which makes me wonder why we can't get a basketball league up and running among these various Jewish day schools.
This is the day school I visited in April, when I was first considering the DeLeT program. The types of observations I made back then were different from the ones I made today, with the benefit of theory and experience, in the very same room. I take that as a positive sign of how much I've learned in just a few months. And it was exciting to see two of my classmates in teaching roles.
In a week or two I will get to play home team host to a group coming to view my classroom as well. Which makes me wonder why we can't get a basketball league up and running among these various Jewish day schools.
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