Fighting to Save Our Olim-Friendly School

I haven’t slept for more than 3 hour stretches for over a month. These have been among the most stressful weeks of my life. I have hardly seen my own family. I just go back and forth to Misrad haChinuch and the Iriya, sneaking into the highest offices with no intimidation from their titles to plead, cry and yell for my students. My skills of fighting in Hebrew have gotten pretty good this summer. 

All summer long, we awaited an “ishur” (permit) to change Baalut (school sponsor) from one who was difficult to work with (and was disassociating anyway due to a huge fine), to a Baalut who very much wanted to do anything he could to support our girls. Working with him would be a dream and would offer our students so much. We were told it was just a matter of bureaucracy and to just give it more time. We kept waiting for the elusive ishur, even after September 1 when many schools were closed due to the strike and then into the second week when the strike ended. The parents waited with waning patience. I harassed anyone I could to get information and to push while balancing running our 7-8 grade. My high school girls kept asking when school would open with increasing anxiety. This is a generation of kids who went through corona and now a war. You can’t keep kids at home because of bureaucracy. 

Then we were told it might not happen at all. Due to the previous school sponsor’s massive fine, they wouldn’t give the school to the new sponsor, no matter how honest a person he was, unless he was prepared to pay the massive fine of the previous sponsor. And they wouldn’t allow him to open a new school semel, unless we would fire all of our dedicated and bilingual staff. It was already two weeks into the school year.  Why would our girls come to a school without the bilingual and dedicated staff which has caused our school’s reputation to spread in Israel and even in America to the point my phone rang off the hook all summer with families who are planning to make Aliyah? It was a non-solution. I pleaded with Misrad haChinuch and told them difficult personal stories that some of our girls had; they were unrelenting. This was the mishpat. Crazily, during this whole time, families did not leave our school. 

Ulpanat Orly was formed six years ago before I had even arrived in Israel but its mission changed when I joined the school as Menahelet a year after my own Aliyah. As a new Olah with teenage children, I knew how difficult it could be for some teenagers to make Aliyah and together with my fellow administrator, Zippi Klein, we geared the school towards helping Olim. It’s hard to make Aliyah as a teen. It’s being the kid in the room with the American “Raish” when everyone else is rattling off in Hebrew. It’s going from being the smart student in the room to then losing your identity because now you don’t understand what’s being said. It’s a cultural discomfort. It’s leaving behind your friends in America and coming to a place where everyone already has their friend groups. Teenagers are already at an age where their self esteem is shaky. When they aren’t given a route to success and comfort, it can have disastrous results, especially in a generation where resilience is low. Unfortunately, you can see many of the results on the streets of Ramat Bet Shemesh of kids from across the hashkafic spectrum. There is even a greater amount of kids who are not on the street but show their scars in other ways. They are uninspired, they are unseen, they are hurting. 

Our school offers smaller classes and teachers who care about and know every student. Our staff is largely bilingual so teachers can teach in Hebrew but explain things that are not understood in English. What’s more, our staff connect with girls outside of class in their own language and culture. We inspire our girls to love Israel and since our staff is from a range of different hashkafot, we encourage the girls to find their connection to Hashem in a way that speaks to them. We are proud to have some girls from the Bais Yaakov world, as well as girls who are Dati Leumi and to have a warm, wholesome and Torani environment. At this point, most of our students come from Anglo families but grew up in Israel. 

We have been so proud to see our school grow and have even had dozens of calls and even interviews already for next year! Of the many new Olot who have walked onto our campus in tears, we are so proud that every single girl has found her place. We have kids who have sat in previous schools in misery- some where staff hardly even knew their names, and upon joining us, are finally happy to come to school. We have kids who have left certain schools feeling resentful of halacha due to certain rules or the way it was taught and are flourishing at our school now. 

And now, Misrad HaChinuch wanted to close us down. One man didn’t pay his fine and the rest of my students and staff were being punished instead. 

We used every connection we could. Rabbi Fass of Nefesh b’Nefesh who really knows the importance of our school had staff advocate for us to Misrad haChinuch. Yonah Kaufman from Iriyat Bet Shemesh worked day and night to help us. Someone from the previous Iriya tried to use their connections. My staff was unbelievable coming in only a few hours each day for our 7-8 grades but did it with a smile and dedication while they wrote beautiful and pleading letters to Misrad haChinuch and davened for us. Zippi worked endless hours in our 7th-8th grade while I fought with bureaucracy. Our parents and students wrote emails, made phone calls and even had a protest at the Iriya. Eliad Avramchik and Rivka Ravitz at the Iriya put up with my incessant messages day and night and showed how much they really cared about our students. Other schools we’ve worked with made calls to Misrad HaChinuch for us. And above all, Benayahu Dvir who will hopefully be our new Baalut showed me what a genuinely good and caring person he is who only wants to help build a generation of girls who are struggling for whatever reason. No matter what setbacks we faced, he continued to fight for us. 

For every ugly story I experienced of people who chose bureaucracy over the hurt of real people, of those who told me to give up and that “there was nothing they could do” and that I shouldn’t be so emotional (these are my students!!), there were amazing and heartwarming stories of people who truly cared. They gave me strength in the hardest of moments. 

Yesterday, we had a meeting at the Iriya and it looks like after a morning that started with screaming and crying to Misrad haChinuch and losing much hope, there is a strong likelihood that things will be resolved imminently and we will be in an even better situation than we were last year. The Iriya understands the importance of our school. It looks like Hashem performed miracles for us in ways that we could never have anticipated. We are still davening but we have been given reason to hope. 

And perhaps most importantly, our girls have seen just how much we believe in them and how much we were willing to fight for them. And hopefully they have learned that when something is important and you really believe in it, you never ever give up. I hope it is a message they will take with them for life. I may have a few more stress lines from this fight than I had at the beginning of the summer but if the girls walk away knowing just how much they are loved and how much so many people care about them, then it was worth every sleepless night. 

(courtesy)