
Dear [email protected],
The Pesach Yom Tov is now behind us, and summer plans are beginning to occupy our minds in earnest.
Many parents have already been put on notice that their child’s yeshiva elementary school year will, for the first time in history, end approximately two weeks earlier than usual and begin the coming year two weeks early as well. We are told that this is to rectify a “problem” of the Elul zman beginning in the middle of August.
Since the yeshivos begin Rosh Chodesh Elul, and the mesivta bochurim will have to head back to yeshiva in mid-August, it was deemed necessary for all talmidim to start and end the summer season two weeks in advance.
The question that many are asking is: How did this suddenly become a problem that now requires a solution? Why wasn’t this an issue for the frum New York community for the past three-quarters of a century or more? For years, all the camps followed the schedule of a July–August summer season, and no one seemed to have any difficulty. What changed over the last decade and a half that created an “Elul crisis” that has now upset our school year and summer calendar?
Before we discuss the factors that contributed to this “Elul problem,” and the havoc it is wreaking upon our communities, a brief overview of the operational history of our yeshivos and boys’ camps is in order.
The leading mesivtos here in New York, where the majority of heimishe bochurim once attended, such as Torah Vodaas, Mir, Chaim Berlin, Chasan Sofer, Be’er Shmuel, MTJ, Kaminetz, and others, were founded around a century ago by selfless rabonim and baalei batim with the purpose of providing a sound chinuch for the children of the Jewish community that would produce erliche Yidden shomrei Torah u’mitzvos. I believe we can all agree that they largely succeeded in their goal.
At the same time, summer camps for children and mesivta bochurim were being set up as well. They too were founded and operated by clear-thinking askonim, individuals who understood the importance of keeping yeshiva kids in camps during the summer, and as far away as possible from the sweltering pritzusdika city streets.
The dedicated founders of those great yeshivos and camps were not pretending to emulate Brisk, Slabodka, Kletsk, Mir, or Pressburg. They were not fooling themselves or others. They, who originated precisely from the old country, understood the environment they were currently living in and worked accordingly, and thus the yeshivos and camps scheduled their calendar to coincide with the end of the secular school year, and to accommodate the Regents exam schedule and bungalow colony seasons. The official summer season began around July 4th and ended around Labor Day.
When Elul would come in August, the camps continued as usual. Some camps added a daily mussar seder, and the rabbeim often included in their learning group lessons about the Yomim Noraim and that it is a time for teshuvah. Some camps based their color war themes on the Yamim Tovim of Tishrei. One camp even published beautiful booklets compiling the halachos of Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, and Sukkos, with contests and prizes for campers who memorized them. It was out of the question, however, to bring yeshiva kids back to the steamy hot city for an “Elul zman.”
The exception to this was Lakewood and Bais Hatalmud, which did begin in Elul. Both of these yeshivos were for bais medrash-age bochurim. Mesivta boys remained in camp. This enabled many of the older mesivta bochurim to be counselors for the younger campers. Those choshiveh budding yeshivaleit often had a positive and long-lasting influence on their campers.
Beginning around twenty years ago, several new small mesivtos opened in the small towns of New Jersey. Their new and young roshei yeshiva, wishing their yeshiva to be recognized as a real and better makom Torah than the existing ones, decided to begin their zman on Rosh Chodesh Elul. Unlike the founders of the original yeshivos, they did not have the foresight to realize how this new schedule would eventually negatively impact the chinuch of thousands of children throughout the summer months.
Imitating the pre-war yeshivos of Europe that began in Elul served as an attractive novelty to the newly emerging young parent body that wanted only the best for their children.
Initially, this did not pose much of a problem. The amount of bochurim enrolled in these mesivtos was minimal, and their absence from camp was hardly felt. These new yeshivos were out of town, and the boys would dorm there. This then did not disrupt the family’s summer plans either, as they could continue to remain in the mountains or wherever, while their bochurim were dorming and being taken care of.
However, when more and more mesivtos began springing up that were competing for the same exclusive student body, they too felt compelled to begin Rosh Chodesh Elul. Should they begin on Labor Day, they would be considered inferior to those prestigious yeshivos, and would not get the enrollment they truly desired. Thus, in a few short years, the boys’ camps began losing their finest bochurim in the middle of August and were basically left without counselors or staff. Desperate head counselors would scramble to find counselors from here and there (often from the “weaker” non-Elul yeshivos) and, at times, would have to combine or divide bunks as necessary.
The problem became compounded when even some Brooklyn and Queens mesivtos, not to be outdone by their out-of-town competitors, recently began their new zman on Rosh Chodesh Elul as well. This now created a fresh crisis. Since they had no dormitory, those bochurim would have to be alone in their homes during the evening hours. This was obviously unacceptable, and parents found themselves forced to cut their stay in the country and come home to “babysit” their mesivta son.
This whole new development began to erode the camp structure, and parents soon sought other venues for their bochurim and yeshiva kids to spend their now-limited summer vacation. One-month hiking camps, Eretz Yisroel trips, and groups of boys organizing their own road trips across the United States were being initiated, and a new trend had begun. Removing so many bochurim from the boys’ camps, however, resulted in calling into question the entire viability of the boys’ camp as it had been known until now.
None of this posed any problem for the roshei yeshiva. As implied above, as long as the bochurim would be back for the psichas hazman on Rosh Chodesh Elul, all was well and good, and parents, influenced in no small way by “brand names” and herd mentality, were still clamoring to get their bochurim into these newer “distinguished” yeshivos.
The ones who had much to fear from these new and fragmented summers were obviously the camp owners.
With most of their quality staff abandoning camp two weeks into the second half or earlier, and others now rethinking the entire camp participation in lieu of more interesting short vacations, the camp summers were being chiseled down, and so were their revenues. Those in the know will confirm that it is almost not worthwhile to open and operate a smaller camp for just six weeks (and with a mediocre staff at that).
But besides for the camp owners’ profits, the real victims here are the children.
Truth be told, who, like mechanchim, camp owners, and head counselors, knows what a lifesaver the camps are for quite a lot of children and teenagers? Kids from broken or dysfunctional homes (even from homes that appear regular but actually aren’t) found themselves safely distracted and cared for in a healthy and fun environment for eight solid weeks. To get away from a troubling home situation, or for an academically challenged child to enjoy a break from a miserable school year, is a priceless gift that only a camp can give. Unlike the roshei yeshiva of the better mesivtos, who deal mostly with the “cream of the crop,” camp head counselors and learning directors are intimately involved with the nitty-gritty of painful home and/or child situations of Klal Yisroel, and have indeed worked wonders with the children entrusted in their care. The benefits of them being in a summer camp environment cannot be overstated and have enduring positive effects. This is an undisputed, but often overlooked, fact.
Desperate to save their camps, the camp owners tried negotiating with the mesivtos to perhaps somewhat delay the Elul zman. Some learning directors even proposed adding another 45-minute learning seder and a mandatory 20-minute mussar seder to the camp’s daily learning program. This, they claimed, would help simulate an Elul atmosphere within the camps and prepare their talmidim for the upcoming zman. But the roshei mesivtos were adamant. No matter what, yeshiva must begin on Rosh Chodesh. They were either unaware or unconcerned that, as a result, hundreds of yeshiva kids would now be without counselors yirei Shomayim and fine role models.
The camp directors then initiated meetings with the gedolim to see how they could possibly help salvage the camps. The gedolim were sympathetic, and several of them, who themselves had experienced the benefits of camp, more than validated the argument that a Torah-oriented summer camp can have a terrific effect on a child. Nevertheless, and despite their opinion that (in contrast to Eastern Europe) the hot summers of America, with its treifeneh streets, are not comparable to an Elul zman of yesteryear, they were reluctant to take on the roshei yeshiva to revert back to the original school/summer schedule. The reason being their understanding, all too well, that no rosh yeshiva could begin seder only on the week of Labor Day and still have his yeshiva considered a “shtarkeh makom Torah.”
It was then that the camp owners came up with a brainstorm—the novel idea of ending the school year early and starting camp mid-June, then ending camp mid-August and beginning the next school year early as well. This would grant the camps the full eight weeks for the children and the bochurim, and then allow for the Elul zman to begin promptly on Rosh Chodesh.
When this proposal was initially floated, it was understandably met with opposition from several important parties.
The elementary yeshivos, for a number of reasons—but primarily due to staff and maintenance logistics—were not enthusiastic about altering their school calendar. Neither were they interested in forcing their rabbeim (some of them great talmidei chachomim themselves) to change their summer arrangements just so that some yeshiva high schools could have a “choshiveh name” because they officially began Rosh Chodesh Elul. Getting secular studies teachers to come in mid-August is practically impossible, and giving off English because of that, and allowing the children to be unoccupied in the afternoons, would be a disaster as well.
The parents had their own problems with this new schedule. It would throw a wrench into any and all of their summer plans that necessarily must occur during July and August. Also, if they have girls in Bais Yaakov, they would now be in limbo since those schools were operating on the regular calendar. Parents would not be able to go up to the mountains or vacation early since the girls would still be in school and even be taking Regents. Then they would also have to return to the city in mid-August while the girls are still participating in the day camps of the country. It is also questionable whether bungalow colonies and estates were willing to accommodate and open two weeks earlier for a handful of people, something that would involve additional planning and expense. The idea of having yeshiva boys hanging around the city during the mid-August long afternoons while public school kids are off and roaming the streets was not something most parents were looking forward to either. All in all, this new idea was simply not feasible.
Nevertheless, a few, perhaps well-meaning influential leaders in our community decided to go ahead and implement this absurd plan. Using various methods of persuasion, including the claim (in a circulated letter) that this is what the gedolim ordered, they began promoting their agenda and coercing the more timid principals in various schools to change over to this new schedule. Few were able to withstand the pressure and reluctantly consented. The bandwagon effect will predictably cause other schools to follow suit. Parents are being forced into compliance despite the immense impracticality of this new arrangement. And, as we can expect, when the multitude of problems enumerated above come crashing down on us as a result of this upheaval, we will surely be left alone to cope with its consequences.
To conclude:
The traditional summer structure was not broken. It balanced chinuch, family life, and the well-being of children in a way that served generations successfully. Camps were not just a convenience; they were, and remain, a critical component of raising healthy, grounded Yiddishe children.
The so-called “summer calendar problems” we now face were self-inflicted due to the interference of individuals who have (unknowingly perhaps) placed personal ambitions over responsibility for the klal. And the new, ridiculous “solution” is now being championed by other individuals, some of them with similar personal interests as well.
While this new arrangement is officially being put into place only for the summers that clash with Elul, it is hard to believe that once such severe alterations are enforced and become tolerated, we will ever be able to revert to the original secure and predictable calendar schedule.
In today’s volatile world, where stability is increasingly challenged, and with so many children and parents living on edge due to the nature of the times we live in, it would be wise, for the sake of everyone’s mental well-being, to try and preserve whatever is left of consistency and permanence.
Therefore, it should be obvious to any truly objective and caring person that before we rush to overhaul an entire system, we must ask ourselves: Why exactly are we doing this? Are we truly improving things, or are we sacrificing something essential in the process? Perhaps the time has come not for adjustment, but for honest and deep reflection.
And finally, let us all daven that our leaders and educators are granted the wisdom and vision to guide us with honesty, foresight, compassion, and sensitivity.
Rabbi Elchonon Weinberg
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