Toward a “Happier” New Year: Some Musings for 10 Days of Reflective, Accountable Iteration

I recently had the honor and absolute treat of sitting down with Sara Lee, one of the great sages of Jewish education today. My predecessor’s predecessor, Director of the Rhea Hirsch School of Education at HUC-JIR for 27 years from 1980-2007, she is a force of nature who by sheer will and uncompromising insistence on excellence demanded that the profession of Jewish educator be taken seriously. A trailblazer in the field, she is one of few women of her generation who held a seat at the table on national commissions and in the setting of standards and direction for the field. If you don’t know Sara Lee, or haven’t seen her in a while, just imagine the RBG of Jewish education. (We really should make swag.) Sara told me a story of a conversation she had, that I have been replaying in my head since we met. A woman asked her why at her stage of life she continues to volunteer on boards as a lay leader. “Does it make you happy?” the woman queried. “Does it make me happy?” Sara replied.? “The goal isn’t to be happy,” and the word “happy” rolls off her tongue with a twinge of disapproval - Sara has a distinct way of being subtle yet incisively direct with her mannerisms. “The goal is to live a life of meaning.” She continues: That’s what Jewish educators do. That’s what Jewish professional leaders and clergy do. We help people live a life of meaning.

With nine decades of life experience, Sara Lee has it right. On the eve of Rosh Hashana, I eagerly cracked open the just-released “Build the Life You Want,” a new book by Arthur Brooks and Oprah Winfrey on “the art and science of getting happier.” The book is about how and why we should pursue the life that Lee describes. According to Brooks, the science backs up Lee’s philosophy on life.? Happiness is not the goal. If we live a life of purpose, prioritizing family and friends and meaningful service, we will step by step and day by day find ourselves not “happy” (which is an unattainable goal) … but happier. In a society that bombards our brains with dopamine hits fed by instant gratification, shallow substitutes for happiness, we need to slow down and live our lives with more intention and depth. The authors tell us we need to set aside our screens and store up the “macronutrients” of happiness: enjoyment, satisfaction, and purpose.

Every year, Rosh Hashana, the Jewish new year, forces me to stop running around, sit down in a chair in a synagogue and think deeply about the life I have built. (Well, I also stand, and fidget, and shift around, and talk to my mother-in-law, but I’m basically at my assigned seat for several hours and usually discover some perspective.) Rosh Hashana is the beginning of the Aseret Yemei Teshuva – 10 Days of what is often translated as “Repentance” (and for you extra-reflective folks out there, the rabbis give us all the way through Hoshana Rabbah, six days into Sukkot, if we want an extension.) The term “repentance” has always felt a bit stilted to me; I prefer to embrace this period as a time of reflective, accountable iteration. Who am I? Do I have my priorities right? Are my actions and relationships aligned with my purpose and my values?

Who am I? I often find Parker Palmer’s words spring to mind first: “I am a teacher at heart.” But while my teacherness may be at the core, what we do as educators transcends teaching, at least the way secular society boils professional teaching down to the delivery of subject matter. To be a Jewish educator is much more, especially in today’s world.

• To be a Jewish educator is to help build the lives that the “happiness” literature describes, enriched by the depth provided by Jewish wisdom, the love of family and friends (however imperfect), and the commitment of community.
• To be a Jewish educator is to help create places and communities that can hold all of the messy beauty and awkwardness, struggles and joys of life, within a creative and evolving tradition.
• To be a Jewish educator is to be the curator of the big ideas and texts that will provide the vision and raw material for constructing goodness, ritual, belonging.
• To be a Jewish educator is to be the architect of the structures where the path toward “happier-ness” can be paved.
• To be a Jewish educator is to be the designer of the experiences that facilitate reflection and connectivity.

Jewish educators. We reach real people; we see them, understand them, journey with them. And as we know them more deeply, we continue to design with intention, skill, and empathy. Relationships are the heartbeat of what we do. We pave pathways together.

People sometimes ask me if I’m “happy” in my job. I imagine most Jewish educators get that question, especially the educators who are “on” above and beyond normal work hours: the directors of education and youth directors who work every Shabbat or Sunday, the heads of school and principals who have countless meetings at night, the teachers who spend their evenings and weekends prepping and grading. Many Jewish educators do not enjoy the status or pay that one might think they would deserve given their emotional labor and the value of their work. Imagine a world without Jewish educators! We need to do better as a community on this. Meaning and purpose do not pay the bills. Moreover, our Jewish educators need to feel visible and validated in their work.

?During these Days of Awe, let us consider how we can all hold each other accountable in mutual support, to power a shared sense of purpose – the promise of Jewish learning as an essential feature of Jewish living and a robust Jewish future.

Wishing us all a “happier” Jewish new year, filled with small wins, strong relationships and steady progress toward our goals.