How Can We Improve What We Can't Measure?

Just before the the start of the school year, Israel’s Education Ministry announced its decision to cancel the Meitzav exam, a standardized test given every two years to students in fifth and eighth grades designed to measure competence in English, math, science and technology and native language, in addition to assessing the school’s pedagogic environment. As one might imagine, this news was greeted with mixed reactions.

Many Israeli educators welcomed the news, saying that the exam puts too much emphasis on results and testing and not enough on learning. Exam results, they say, are not a tool for measurement and improvement, but come at the expense of teaching and true leaning.

To be sure, no test is perfect; there is always a risk of “teaching for the test.” Measurement in education is difficult and is a controversial topic that is widely studied. However, while there is still much work to be done in this area, few educators advocate for no testing or measurement at all.

Without any published results or information, parents will have no way of knowing how their children’s schools are doing compared to others in their community or country. The Ministry of Education itself cited the risk of published results embarrassing teachers at low-performing schools as one reason for cancelling the test.

While Israeli educators may question the quality of the Meitzav exam, they are not addressing the real issue—the quality of the education system itself. Regardless of the results of an exam that compares Israeli students and schools to each other, Israeli students continue to test well below their peers from other OECD countries.  Israel has one of the largest and fastest growing gaps in educational achievements between the rich and the poor and the number of young people (age 25-34) with university degrees in shrinking in Israel and growing in other countries.

Instead of focusing on the test, perhaps the focus should be on improving the educational system it is attempting to measure? 

Yom Kippur 5774

As president of my synagogue (this is the last year) I have the honor of addressing the congregation on Kol Nidre. Here is what I said a few weeks ago. Thanks for reading it. 

You stand this day, all of you, before your God, your tribal heads, your elders, your officials, all the men of Israel, your children, your wives, even the stranger within your camp…to enter into the covenant…I have put before you life and death, blessing and curse. Choose life so that you and your offspring will live.”

These are the words from the Torah that we will read tomorrow morning, and while I am not one to play favorites, they are some of the most powerful and thought-provoking in our text.

Imagine you were there--because, according to our teachings, you were. Picture yourself standing in the large crowd of Israelites that Moses has gathered together. As he recounts all that you have been through in your wanderings, the montage is playing in your mind like a Hollywood film: the Exodus, revelation at Sinai, the golden calf, building the ark, wars and famine. Through it all, you have observed the commandments, and your tribe has grown in number.

You have followed Moses on this truly awesome journey—from the outset, your destination was decreed, even though the path, at times, was unclear. And now, here you are, about to realize your destiny, all that has been promised to you and at the climactic moment, you are being asked one more time "are you sure?"

While some may refer to the Jews as the chosen people, this portion of the Torah reminds us that it is really we who must do the choosing. God may have brought us out of Egypt, rescued us from bondage, and redeemed us, but the ultimate promise of becoming God's people could not be fulfilled unless we were willing participants.  Even after all that transpired, the Israelites could not truly become the Jewish people unless they chose to do so.

Being Jewish, being part of a community, finding a way to make life more meaningful, more spiritual, more connected to ancestors or to God--these are all active decisions.  Moreover, an individual’s actions and decisions are not isolated to that single person: “Choose life so that you and your offspring can live."

Your choices are not only the essence of your personal Judaism, they are critical to preserving and building the future of Judaism for generations to come.

Of course, it is not always so deliberate. When my parents dragged me and my sister to synagogue every Friday night when we were children, I don’t think they did it in the hopes of creating a future synagogue president or a Jewish educator. But they did want us to share their belief system and values, and to develop a framework on which we could build our lives.  As I grew up, I learned that Judaism and synagogue life were more than ritual and study. They were faith, a moral compass and community that not only supported my family in our dark hours or rejoiced with us in celebration, but served as a regular part of our daily lives.

And so my husband and I chose this life for our children as well, hoping they will be feel comforted by God’s presence, secure in their convictions, strong from their community, wise from helping those around them. We want them to come to know their place in this chain and to understand that the choices they make are not just about the here and now, but will have ramifications for generations to come.

When I think about all that our ancestors—both those from 5000 years ago and those from 50 years ago—went through and fought for  just to have the privilege of choosing Judaism, I find it interesting, ironic and perhaps a bit frustrating, that today, there seems to be a great deal of discussion about how we need to make it much easier to be Jewish. According to many in our community, even synagogues like Rodeph Sholom--known for its diversity, openness and eagerness to welcome a wide range of observers--make it far too difficult for people to lead Jewish lives. We impose restrictions that ask too much of anyone. For example, we assume that people might actually want to be here. We want them to want to be members of a warm caring community. We try to preserve the tradition of communal study and prayer. We even ask children to attend classes, learn Hebrew, Jewish history and Torah. We simply refuse to give up so many of the traditions that have sustained us for thousands of years.

Of course Rodeph Sholom, like all our institutions, must respond to changing demographics, technological innovation and other societal forces. But the texts, rituals and practices that have sustained us for thousands of years must continue to be our guide. If each generation takes away a little bit of ritual, a little bit of knowledge, a little bit of obligation, on what will the next generation stand? And the next? Eventually, our choices will narrow the options of the future. 

And so, I am grateful to all of you. Your presence—your choice to come here tonight--is a fulfillment of the covenant made so many thousands of years ago. You have selected a life of learning, of ritual, of community service. By opting to be a part of this congregation, you have created the opportunity for others to do the same. Your commitment will preserve Rodeph Sholom for generations to come. You have chosen life so that our children can live.

We at Rodeph Sholom know these are not easy choices to make. People have limited time and resources. Demographics are shifting, for many the economy is still uncertain and the public debate is loud, challenging and at times discouraging.   

But we see tremendous opportunity and potential. Since 1842, our dedication to Jewish life filled with prayer, study and community service has been unwavering. We are proud to demonstrate how powerful, how fulfilling, how exciting Jewish life can and should be.

While there are communities in which ritual feels stagnant and routine, Rodeph Sholom chooses to offer 5 different prayer options most Shabbat mornings, an array of holiday observances, services for families with members with special needs, at least 2 seders, a weekly minyan and many other ways to engage in prayer.

While there are communities that are scaling back their educational offerings and requirements, Rodeph Sholom has chosen to develop innovative and challenging Judaic curricula for our children, offer diverse youth programming, provide stimulating adult education classes, and give unmatched learning opportunities with our clergy and scholars.

While there are places that must be focused on their own needs, Rodeph Sholom will continue to serve its community with programs like Mitzvah Day, our food drive, a homeless shelter, One Voice to Save Choice, and Backpack Buddies, a new program that will provide food to children at a local school on a weekly basis.

And while there are communities in which members do not feel connected, Rodeph Sholom will continue to offer a book club, mah johng, trips to Israel, community theater, lunch programs, and other social events.

And, most importantly, while there are communities struggling or others that seek to restrict members, Rodeph Sholom is honored and proud to be able to keep its most sacred promise of offering membership to all who seek it—regardless of their financial situation.

None of these programs—or the hundreds more that take place here each year--would be possible without your time, commitment and your generous financial support. It is because of your choices that we are able to be the diverse, open, welcoming congregation that our ancestors foresaw.

Everyone who desires it can be included in this promise—all who chose to can have access to this sacred vow. As we will read tomorrow:

“I make this covenant with its sanctions, not with you alone, but both with those who are standing here with us this day and with those who are not with us here this day.”

Thousands of years ago, we stood shoulder to shoulder as one community with all the Jews that were and all that were yet to be.

The power of this text, this holiday, this promise, goes beyond tonight and beyond all of us who are here right now; it started long ago and will reach far into the future.

In these final hours of repentance, reflection and preparation, remember that the choices we make and the actions we take must sustain our remarkable heritage for generations and must create a robust foundation and vibrant future for all who come after us.  

On behalf of the entire congregation, thank you for your support, participation and generosity. I am so very honored to have had this role in our community.

My family joins me in wishing you a g’mar tov and 5774 blessed with hope, happiness, health and peace. Shana tovah.