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The Student’s Potential

11 August 2009 No Comment

King Solomon, in his wisdom, wrote: “Educate the child according to his way …” (Mishlei 22:6)

The goal of education is to help the student reach his or her potential. Every child is unique. Every child has specific strengths and weaknesses. The educator must identify those strengths and weaknesses in order to set realistic learning goals. At the same time, our tradition expects one to work hard at Torah study and self-development. As our tradition teaches, “Man is born to toil…” (Iyyov 5:7)

One thing is essential: Encouragement. The teacher must encourage the students in his or her charge to actualize their potential; to grow in their Torah study and as people; to be the best they can be. The Talmud refers to students as a seed just beginning to sprout. (Ta’anit 4a) Small plants need water, care, guidance, and direction to become tall trees. Our children and students require that same kind of care and direction.

The Netziv, Rabbi Naftali Tzvi Berlin, the head of the great Academy of Volozhin, spent much of his time seeing to it that his students were flourishing. Once, one of the bachurim was struggling with a complicated passage in the Gemara. He was visibly distraught. The Netziv told the student to look up a specific Tosafot, which may shed light on his difficulty. The next day, the student was even more confused. He couldn’t understand what that Tosafot had to do with the topic he was struggling with. The Netziv answered, “Look, Tosfos wrote ‘tzarich iyun, it requires further examination.’ Even the ba’alei Tosafot, the great talmudic giants, were unsure sometimes!”

The Netziv shared the following story at a celebration on the occasion of the publication of one of his monumental works, the Ha’emek Shailah: When the Netziv was a boy, he was not a very good student. One night, he overheard his parents talking. They were considering taking him out of the yeshivah and apprenticing him to the local shoemaker so he could learn a trade. Little Naftali burst into their room in tears and promised to apply himself.

We know the rest of the story, little Naftali went on to become one of the greatest Torah scholars of the nineteenth Century, writing several important works. He remarked with emotion, as he held up his newly published volume, “Had I become a shoemaker or tailor, I never would have written these seforim. After 120 years, I would have appeared before the Heavenly Court, and would have been asked, ‘Where is your Ha’emek Shailah? The Ha’emek Davar? All of your original works of Torah?’ I would not have known how to answer.”

Every one of our students can achieve greatness in their own unique way. The question is do we inspire them to become great? Does not the Talmud tell us that Rabbi Preida had a student to whom he would teach a lesson to 400 times? Sometimes he would repeat the lesson and additional 400 times if the student didn’t catch it the first 400.
(Eiruvin 54b)

Greatness is defined differently for every child. The famous story of Reb Zushe echoes this idea. On his death bed, surrounded by his Chassidim, Reb Zushe began to tremble. His Chassidim asked him, “Rebbe, why are you trembling?” He answered, “I’m not afraid that the Heavenly Court will ask why I wasn’t Avraham, Yitzchak, Yaakov, or Moshe Rabbeinu. I’m afraid they will ask why I wasn’t Zushe!”

The Talmud (Pesachim 68b) discusses the joy Rav Yosef would experience on Shavuot, the day on which we celebrate the giving of the Torah. He would say: “Prepare for me a third born calf. Were it not for what this day accomplished – how many Yosefs are there in the marketplace!” Rav Yosef expresses the sentiment, ‘If not for the Torah, I would just be another ordinary Yosef!’ The proverbial “average Joe.” Rav Yosef realized that G-d endowed him with certain strengths and that his mission in life was not to strive for mediocrity, but rather to strive for success. His lot in life was to become a great Torah Sage.

Mediocrity is the greatest tragedy. The saddest thing is regret: Thinking, “what I could have been.” Or, “What I should have done.” A poem by Kenneth Kaufman expresses this sentiment:

There are three tame ducks in our back yard
Dabbling in mud and trying hard
To get their share and maybe more
Of the overflowing barnyard store,
Satisfied with the task they’re at
Of eating and sleeping and getting fat.

But whenever the free wild ducks go by
In a long line streaming down the sky,
They cock a quizzical, puzzled eye
And flap their wings and try to fly.

I think my soul is a tame old duck
Dabbling around in barnyard muck,
Fat and lazy, with useless wings.
But sometimes when the North wind sings
And wild ones hurtle overhead,
It remembers something lost and dead,
And cocks a wary, bewildered eye,
And makes a feeble attempt to fly.
It’s fairly content with the state it’s in,
But it isn’t the duck it might have been.

To be contented is to be a tame old duck. As educators and parents, it is our responsibly to nurture the students in our care; To encourage them to achieve their unique potential.

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