As another school year begins, Jewish families are preparing for more than the first day of class. They are also asking what kind of people they hope their children will become. In a society shaped by religious, cultural, and ethnic diversity, one answer is increasingly important: we must cultivate the capacity to see the divine in the unfamiliar.
Jewish children across Greater Milwaukee and throughout Wisconsin encounter classmates from different faiths, cultures, and family backgrounds every day. They are learning not only mathematics and history but also how to be Jews among neighbors whose stories are different from their own.
Judaism has long understood that education is about shaping character, not merely transmitting information. The Hebrew word chinuch (education) shares its root with chanukah (dedication), reminding us that education is the lifelong work of dedicating ourselves to a way of living.
This is why I am drawn to the tradition of chevruta, studying with a partner. In chevruta, truth emerges through conversation, questioning, and listening. The Talmud often preserves minority opinions alongside majority rulings, reminding us that the search for truth is enriched by conversation rather than diminished by disagreement. As the sages taught, “Who is wise? One who learns from every person.”
This commitment to questioning and dialogue comes alive in the beit midrash, the house of study, where learning unfolds through relationships. What if our schools, neighborhoods, and civic life became extensions of that beit midrash?
This vision begins with small, intentional practices. We can give our children the vocabulary to share their joy in celebrating Shabbat or Passover, while encouraging them to listen with curiosity to their classmates’ stories. We can visit houses of worship as guests, not tourists, approaching them with the same respect we hope others bring to our synagogue. We can read books by authors from different communities. These experiences do not compete with Jewish learning; they are expressions of it.
Some parents understandably hesitate. As antisemitism becomes more visible, many worry whether their children will feel safe expressing their Jewish identity. These concerns are real. Yet Jewish education must prepare our children for antisemitism without allowing antisemitism to define what it means to be Jewish. Instead of letting fear become our primary teacher, we should give children the knowledge and confidence to stand proudly as Jews while engaging others with integrity and hope.
Judaism has always held together two truths that can appear to be in tension. We belong to a particular covenant and a distinctive people, yet every human being is created b’tzelem Elohim — in the image of God. Our commitment to Jewish life does not diminish our responsibility to others; it deepens it. Jewish history itself bears witness to this. From Babylonia to North America, Judaism has grown through encounters with other civilizations, continually interpreting ancient wisdom for new realities without abandoning its core.
As another school year begins, may we raise children who know their Jewish story well enough to share it with confidence, who ask questions before making assumptions, and who seek understanding even when agreement proves impossible. May every classroom become a beit midrash, every encounter a chevruta, and every face they meet a reminder that each human being is created b’tzelem Elohim—in the image of God.




