Turning the key to a world of Jewish expression

During the summer break, after the December bustle was over, I turned my mind to an activity many teachers undertake during this time – cleaning. This meant sorting through stacks of boxes of my teaching materials, and cards of appreciation from my students from over the years.

This was a particularly long process because I felt the need to read through each one – a reminder of every student who has been in my care and a curiosity about what they are doing now.

Amongst these cards, I found one from a former VCE Yiddish student that read, “Thank you for teaching me a language, a culture… and for providing me with an opportunity to learn so many things that will stick with me for my entire life. Your passion and patience have allowed me to develop such a strong love for Yiddish, which will forever be tif farflantst in mayn harts (planted deeply in my heart).”

In the case of this former student, I don’t have to wonder about where she is and what she is doing. She remains heavily involved in community organisations that centre on Yiddish. Despite what she wrote in her card, I don’t believe it was my teaching that made this impact on her. Rather, it was the rich treasure trove that is the Yiddish language.

When I was first studying a Bachelor of Arts/Education, one of our tutors instructed us to turn to the person next to us and justify why learning our particular subject area was important. He warned us this would be a crucial part of our future work. Over the years, as a Yiddish teacher I have often thought back on this exercise. How do I articulate everything to be gained from learning and engaging with Yiddish language and culture?