The Driving Lesson

(Published in Jewish Advocate Feb 17, 2012)

Ok. I admit it. Not too long ago I yelled at my sixteen year old daughter in a pretty hysterical way.  I was yelling because I had just taken her out on her first drive with her Learner's Permit. I was truly fearful for my life.  My daughter put her foot on the brake of my minivan and turned the engine off without returning the gear shift to Park. The car was straddling a curb, the front tires on the grass and the rear tires on the road. I don't know what possessed me to pull into the cemetery with her newly acquired Learner's Permit.  Maybe it was her incessant begging.  Please-can-I-drive-please-can-I-drive-please-can-I-drive.

As I took several slow deep breaths, returned the gear shift to Park, and tried to think of something intelligent to say, all I could ask myself was, "How did I get myself into this predicament?" and more importantly, "How am I going to get out of this predicament?"  I saw my fear mirrored in my daughter's eyes, and I realized that I had made a mistake. "Please don't yell at me," she said meekly. I felt terrible and hoped that I had not completely undone all our parenting efforts of building up her confidence as a strong, independent young lady. 

Parenting is not for the weak of heart.  Jewish parenting is even more of a challenge.  Although I entered into the world of Jewish parenting with eagerness and openness to input from my mother-in-law, I had no idea what I was getting into. I had a secular upbringing with liberally-minded parents who were eager to learn American ways.  As an Anthropology minor in college, I learned the cultural and social role of religion, and decided that Judaism, if it had brought up my husband so well, would surely serve my children well too. I took the Intro to Judaism class before I got married in preparation for the mikvah.  I participated in CJP and Hebrew College's Me'ah program, and then enjoyed it so much that I continued on with the Me'ah Graduate Institute and earned a certificate in Jewish Thought and Spirituality. As a  CJP Fellow, I enrolled in Hebrew College's Masters in Jewish Education with a concentration in Jewish Early Childhood Education. I have been exposed to many Jewish thinkers, Jewish rituals, Jewish symbols, Jewish prayers, Jewish attitudes, Jewish food, Israel, and I have become familiar with many Jewish books. I wanted to know what it means to be Jewish; or rather, what it can mean to individual Jews.

I discovered that Jewish parenting is different from other parenting, but not just because of the different holidays that we may celebrate or different foods, or even because of the symbols.  Many other religious and ethnic communities have their own special foods and symbols and holidays, and they also value righteous behavior towards family members and towards the community.  Other religions and ethnicities also value their texts, and their common knowledge of certain texts binds them together, much the same way we as Americans are tied to Star Wars, Indiana Jones, and Harry Potter.  But what makes our relationship to text, ritual, symbols, prayer, and Israel different from other religious and ethnic communities is the way we encourage questions about these things.  We set up symbols in a way to draw the question.  The Passover Seder, in particular, is an explicit example of Jewish engagement where children are taught to ask about the rituals, symbols, and story. The Talmud is an excellent testimony to the value of questioning and also to the value of all answers, popular and not.  Jewish parenting is very much characterized by an open-ended relationship between the parent and child, with questions and answers going both ways, and deep conversations are expected and desired. To me, this is one of the particular strengths of Judaism, where everybody's voice is valued, and everybody truly wants the other person to understand.  The answers might vary, the questions might vary, but the dynamic is the same and the outcome is the same: confidence and learning. Don't take this for granted, folks.  Don't take this for granted.

Of course, encouraging your child to ask a question can easily result in missteps into quicksand.   When my older daughter was five years old, she asked me why her skin and hair was like her father's and not like mine.  Without thinking, I replied smartly, "It's because of your DNA. You see, every part of your body has DNA." She pointed to the back of her little hand and asked, "How did Dad's DNA get in here?" She had stopped me cold.  I had started down a path that both she and I were not ready to travel down.  She certainly hadn't had the Health Unit yet.  "Umm," I replied, completely flustered,  "from kissing," and then I turned my back on her to return to my cooking. I made a mental note to self:  Do not talk about DNA until high school.  Jewish parenting requires constant vigilance.

My younger daughter and I did manage to get some successful driving practice in that afternoon in the cemetery, before I took over the driver's seat. During December break she took an intensive week of driver's ed. Apparently the instructor told one harrowing tale after another, a series of near-death experiences that the instructor had either driving a motorcycle, or a car, or a truck, some involving breaking through ice, all of the stories concluding with an ambulance ride to the hospital. So to deepen the learning, I asked a question. "Why do you think the teacher told you all those terrible stories?" She reflected on the possible benefit of hearing about all of his accidents, and decided the reason for all his scary stories was to show that mistakes affect more than one person on the road, because some of the accidents were not his fault.  By asking my daughter to reflect upon the meaning of her instructor’s stories, she shared her insight and her more mature perspective on driving – that it wasn’t all about her.  This reflection, and the realization that she had gained new insight gave her renewed confidence in her ability to drive.  “Mommy, the instructor said that after this class I will be a better driver.” And she is.