The Most Important Profession In The world

"I am indebted to my father for living, but to my teacher for living well."  Alexander The Great

The first scene of the poignant Turkish/French film Mustang, which in Hebrew was translated into “Wild Girls,” shows the end of the last day of the school year. A beloved teacher is parting from her young students. They stand in line to bid her farewell, and one little girl is crying. The teacher comforts her, asks her to keep in touch and to write to her.

From the comments of the students we gather that the young teacher is moving away from Trabzon, on the Black Sea in Turkey, to Istanbul a 1000 km away.

At the end of the film, the young student, whose life has become unbearable, runs away from home, with her older sister, in order to arrive at the home of her teacher, the only person in the world whom she trusts.

This may seem like an idealistic portrayal of the teacher, but there are numerous examples in life ,and in fiction, of dedicated teachers who devote their lives to their students.

The teacher has an immense role in in forming the personality of the young child. We could all think of  a teacher who believed in us, encouraged us or did not give up on us. Of course we could never forget that teacher.

At the university level the role of the teacher/advisor is different, but even there, especially at the post-graduate level, the advisor is very significant. Sometimes, for the student, the teacher is the only face of the institution, and the bond between the student and the mentor is often deep and meaningful, and could last a lifetime.

A good advisor could not remain distant and polite, in order to get the most out of the student he/she has be a hands-on mentor, which often means: demanding and strict.

In recent years when higher education has become commercialized and compete for students’ money, the ability of the teachers to do their best is compromised. When the  student becomes a client and therefore is always right, teachers are  pressurized to be popular, and popularity is often in contrast to being demanding.  And then there are the dreaded questionnaires, which ask for satisfaction feedback from the students/ customers.

Today being a teacher seems a bit like walking a tightrope. In order not to fall the teacher needs to keep his balance and stays focused. But that is only the beginning, a “real” teacher needs to be courageous, flexible, strong and optimistic.

At the end of a week in which our education system has  joined a reactionary tradition of banning books, for fear of poisoning the minds of our youth, it is easy for teachers to lose faith.

But the reunion at the end of Mustang, which shows that the little girl reached a safe haven at the home of her teacher, restored my optimism and  gave me hope. It reminded me again that no other profession is more important than teaching.

The essay appeared in the Times Of Israel 

http://blogs.timesofisrael.com/the-most-important-profession-in-the-world/

My Year As A Fan: In Memory of Yoram Kaniuk

 JUN.09.2013 

Although I never talked to him again after that year, the author Yoram Kaniuk  (1930-2013) was my hero. We met in my second year of university; he taught fiction in a  creative writing workshop.  Kaniuk was a well-known novelist in Israel, but not well respected. His style, in the tradition of the stream of consciousness, was frowned upon. His writing was different from the way other Israeli novelists wrote in the 1970s, thus  it was deemed affected and insincere.

To us he seemed old, he was 47 years old at that time (I was 22), but the minute he opened his mouth, we were all smitten. Kaniuk (no one called him Yoram) was very charismatic and kind -- a rare combination. His method was not to shred our writing to pieces and to make us feel bad; quite the opposite, he gave his criticism in an encouraging and helpful way. During the lessons there were no crises; he kept the atmosphere in the workshop positive and productive. 

 We admired the beautiful miniatures which he used to draw on top of matchboxes (it was at the time when most of us smoked) when we read our stories. I kept mine for many years.

But our stories were not the reason for the workshop, Kaniuk was. He was our star and we  became his fans even his groupies. We were experts in his biography,  his writing,  his opinions. We were well versed in his life story: the son of the first director of Tel Aviv Museum, he enjoyed a privileged childhood, and was very talented in art and letters. During the war of independence he fought and was wounded  (he was 18 at the time), he studied art first at Bezalel, the Israel Art Institute, and then in Paris; hence the beautiful  drawings. He had planned to pursue his art in the US  but changed his mind about being an artist and decided instead to become  a novelist. When he returned to Israel some 10 years later he did so with a beautiful American wife.

I felt “chosen” since he was very kind to me and always called me “a fresh flower,” but I am sure that he was just as kind to other young women in the workshop. I was a newly-wed at that time and remember that once the workshop met at my house. My young husband was there as well and Kaniuk  told me later ”your second marriage will be different, then you will keep a respectful distance from each other.”  Needless to say, Tzvi, my husband, did not join our fan club.   

That year I had written a story which Kaniuk believed was good enough to be published; when it finally appeared  in print I was shocked to discover Kaniuk’s voice in my story -- his influence was too great. At the workshop I was writing for Kaniuk, and enjoyed his approval, but after it ended I stopped writing.

It was a privilege to be at Yoram Kaniuk’s creative writing workshop; he was a real mentor and did his best to encourage us to keep on writing and to take chances with our work. But as I found out, hero-worshipping stifled my creativity and paralyzed me. It took me years to lose his voice and find my own. And . . . just to be on the safe side, I made two resolutions and kept them: I never read another book by Yoram Kaniuk and never took another creative writing class..

P.S.  This is a photo of a matchbox drawing by Yoram Kaniuk

"Make Yourself A Rabbi" or Do We Still Need A Mentor?

My husband was forever looking for a mentor, perhaps because he was an older brother, he felt the need to seek advice and to look up to someone outside the family. For a while in high school the math teacher was his mentor, and later during the war when he was stationed in the Suez Channel, an older soldier, an intellectual who immigrated to Israel from France, taught him how to play Bridge and talked to him about French poetry.

In contrast, for me, my brother, who is seven years older, has been the most dominant influence in my childhood and  has always been my mentor.

In Judaism we have an instruction which translates literally to English as “make yourself a Rabbi.” The meaning of these words is:  find a Rabbi  (a mentor /a spiritual guide/ a teacher/a guru),  and become his pupil (in traditional Judaism a Rabbi is always a man). Once you find a Rabbi the expectation is that you follow his directions.    

With this order the Oral Jewish tradition reveals its conviction that it is not enough to believe in God, but each person is required to find a trustworthy mortal guide. Moreover, this instruction aims at instilling humility in the believers regardless of their age or their station in life. We should  always strive to be around  someone who is on a higher level morally and spiritually who could help us become  better people.

 In theory this is a straightforward instruction, it is quite feasible in the religious circle to find a venerated Rabbi whose authority we could accept,  but it is more complicated in the outside world. It seems to me that as a person gets older and becomes influential or prominent then it gets harder to accept the moral authority of another human being. In the case of my husband when he became a full professor and had his own PhD students and advisees,  he no longer looked for a mentor but instead became one himself.

 I feel that the Jewish instruction of “make yourself a Rabbi” is still relevant and meaningful even for those who have become mentors themselves. With no one to look up to, some people tend to gradually lose touch with their fellow people, and even worse they could  grow arrogant and blind to other people’s needs .

There are plenty of such examples: medical doctors who become callous to their patients,  politicians who no longer are accountable to their constituents, gurus who exploit their followers, and teachers who no longer like their students.

With age it is harder to find a "full time" mentor, we have the experience and the knowledge to recognize faults in other people,  but  a useful way could be to find temporary guides,  for certain purposes. At this point in life perhaps we could no longer find an ultimate encompassing Rabbi, but a mentor whom we could admire for certain qualities or accomplishments.

And if it doesn’t work we could always turn to literature, history and  the Bible and admire Jael for her courage, Salomon for his wisdom and Job for his endurance.

And like a kite we could fly much higher if someone is holding fast  to our strings.