This week the zeman began but my son is home.
It’s not because he doesn’t want to go, but because they don’t want to have him.
You see, he’s not a lamdan. He’s just an ordinary boy who’s worked very hard to get where he’s got. Many years ago they told me it wasn’t possible.
“Don’t even try to make him suffer the ‘system.’ Send him to high-school where they have the infrastructure for a child who needs some support, where they have the funding and the expertise.”
But he wouldn’t hear of it. “I want to be in yeshiva where regular boys are, that’s all I want. Is that too hard for them to understand?”
It seems so.
How do I tell him that he isn’t as attractive as so many others, that he is more difficult to teach, that he needs time and patience? How do I tell him that my heart is broken for him, that I have cried more tears for his struggle than I believed were possible in a lifetime? How do I tell him that to the rebbi his learning is more precious than anything else that exists, because it comes with true effort and yearning?
This is not a complaint, nor is this is not a call to blame. This is a simple cry from a mother who feels that surely as parents we need to be more aware.
Is there some way we could help our children be part of a regular yeshiva system even if they need a little support? Is there some way we could provide yeshiva chinuch and learning that is accessible to all?
Are there others having difficulty with this? Is there some way we can make it easier? Maybe we could compile a database of yeshivos with a description of their criteria and what they are looking for or offering.
Maybe we need to be more vocal about the chinuch of our children being the communal necessity that it is, with more information available to parents. Most of all, we need to collectively care for all levels of our children with the necessary proficiency within our mosdos.
A Crying Mother