How to share news?

The "Sandwich Method" for sharing critical/potentially negative news is a simple concept of starting with the first layer of "bread".  Here one provides an initial positive remark, compliment, or other warm and fuzzy so as to set the stage and begin building the sandwich by showing that "feeding someone" is as much about the care being taken in the information's delivery as it is about the information itself.


The "meat" of the sandwich can then be shared.  This is often the negative feedback, constructive criticism, and/or critical information that often leaves the recipient a little taken aback by the impact of the information.  And then, finally, one closes the sandwich with a positive comment about the future, how the information may help someone grow, or general optimistic statement.


So why do I share this methodology on a Jewish education blog?  Well, besides the fact that we are most certainly a gastronomic faith, I actually believe that this sandwich method is a very Jewish and ancient method for sharing difficult news and can be observed in the events of this week's Torah portion.


It is this week, in Parashat Shelach (Numbers 13:1-15:41), where Moses sends out a group of representatives of all the Tribes to scout the land of Canaan.  What we know is that this group returns from their travels and they share terrifying information about the "giants" who live there.  These stories in turn cause panic and hysteria amongst the Children of Israel and ultimately brings about a punishment for this generation of never being able to enter the land.


Similarly, the consequences for the scouts is death... for all that is but Joshua and Caleb.  Why not these two?  Common understanding tells us that these two scouts did not share the negatives and fear-inducing stories of what they saw.  Rather, these two were optimists and wanted to only focus on the good.


My conjecture, however, is that these two were saved for the way they shared the information. Not because of what they actually said (or did not say).


In Numbers 13:27 we read that the scouts (the collective group) describe the land as "flowing with milk and honey" (laying the first piece of "bread") they then share the "meat" of what they saw which is a land with numerous enemies, "huge and fortified" cities, and even descendants of the giants (13:28).  Nobody suggests that they are embellishing their story, or worse outright lying!


No, what happens here is that for the majority of the scouts their report of what they saw ends on this note of fear and anxiety.  In fact, this scary focal point becomes the focus of what they go on to share with the other Hebrews in the encampment.  Not Caleb and Joshua however.  Their report continues and ends with the closing slice of bread.  For Caleb and Joshua there is still optimism and potential fulfillment of their destiny as we read in 13:30 where Caleb says, "We should go up at once, and possess it; for we are well able to overcome it."  So even with the fearful news of what they saw; even with this incredibly scary report, the fact is that what Caleb and Joshua know about what they could do still outweighed what they saw on their trail. They didn't want/try to leave anyone paralyzed by the news.


When it comes to sharing information, and as educators we share, recommend, advise, counsel, and talk to people all day long; it is wise for us to always keep the sandwich method in mind.  Remember, how one says something is just as important as what one says!

A Tale of Two Campuses

Once again, it is that time of year. Three of my children are graduating from school in the coming weeks, as are thousands of other young people who are proudly reflecting on the accomplishments of years of formal schooling.

Who is speaking at your school's graduation? If Michael Oren, the Israeli ambassador to America were available, would you invite him?

Interestingly, two institutions of higher learning with Jewish roots - Brandeis University and Yeshiva University - both invited Ambassador Oren to speak. At Brandeis University his announced appearance on campus was greeted with petitions and editorials protesting the invitation, led, to a large extent, by Jewish students on campus.

At Yeshiva University, the student body appears to have been pleased with having the opportunity for a distinguished representative of the State of Israel address them at their commencement.

Why do two groups of students who are largely products of the same cultural environment have such radically different reactions to the Israeli ambassador?

Let's try multiple choice:

1. Brandeis students are more sensitive to social justice issues
2. YU students have stronger personal connections with Israel
3. Orthodox Jews always support Israel
4. All (or none) of the above

So…

Would you invite Ambassador Oren to your school's graduation?

Would your children protest?

Why (not)?

THE “LOST” CONNECTION

I can’t stop thinking about the “Lost” finale.

(Even if you’re not a fan, stay with me, I promise there’s a larger point. And if you DVR'ed it and haven't watched it yet, consider this your spoiler alert.)

I loved the show from day one. It was thrilling, mesmerizing, can’t-wait-for-what’s-next TV, and at the same time the action was always secondary to the character development. Through flashbacks about a different character each week, by the end of the first season we knew these characters very well. Virtually all of them had flaws, but they were like family members—you loved them, warts and all.

I loved the finale, even though it didn’t answer all the questions. After it was over I found myself not wanting to let go. I re-watched some of the most poignant scenes, when various sets of characters in the "sideways" universe (a sort of parralel existence that wasn't explained until the very end) suddenly remembered their time on the island and reconnected with lost loved ones, all in the same instant. The emotional intensity of those moments, built upon six years of relationships—their relationships with each other, viewers’ relationships with the characters—was overwhelming. (This was the best of them, in my opinion.)

So what does the “Lost” finale have to do with Jewish education and community? Everything.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

For starters, the finale touched upon several religious themes. Maureen Ryan of the Chicago Tribune, in her review Sunday night, laid out three key themes that strike me as quite Jewish:

• It's never too late. You can always remake your fate (or take a run at resolving your issues in another Sideways life, brutha).
• No one is eternally good or bad. You can revise or redeem your character through your actions.
• No one can go it alone. It takes a village and all that.

Secondly, the show, and the finale in particular, demonstrated the power of the emotional connection. I’ll defer again to Ryan, simply because after I read what she wrote, I thought this is exactly how I feel. Noting the distinction between the “structural mode” and the “emotional mode” of watching the show, she writes:

“The structural mode has to do with the filling in of answers and with puzzle-solving… It's the more analytical part of being a ‘Lost’ fan, and it can be a lot of fun (or incredibly frustrating, depending on what happened in that week's episode)….

“But then there's also the emotional, ‘here and now’ mode of enjoying the show. That has to do with how the show makes me feel within that hour and the feelings and reactions it elicits in the moment. I love it when any film or movie or performance reaches down into the pit of my heart or soul and creates visceral, physical reactions -- fear, tension, tears, joy, elation, sadness.... So, here's how the finale landed for me: The emotional part of the finale worked so well that I don't care much about the analytical/structural stuff.”

I can’t help but think that this is how participants in Jewish education break down their own experience, distinguishing between the structural and emotional components (even if they don’t think of it that way.) For some, the focus on the nuts and bolts of Jewish life—prayers, tzedakah, chesed, holidays, Hebrew, life cycle, text study, culture, food, music, and so forth—resonates a lot. It offers easily identifiable symbols that people, and children in particular, can latch onto.

For others, however, none of that matters nearly as much as the emotional connection. One person might define their Jewishness by the positive emotional experiences they have within it; another may step away from Jewish life entirely because of a negative emotional experience.

In the field of informal Jewish education, we spend lots of energy going after exactly what Ryan is describing: reaching down into a teen’s heart and creating emotional reactions (albeit aiming for more joy and elation, and much less fear and sadness). By setting up environments and experiences that trigger emotional responses, we believe we’re increasing the likelihood of deeper and more profound connections—among participants, between participants and staff, and of course the connection the participant has with the experience itself (prayer, Israel, performing acts of tzedakah, and so forth.)

It makes me wonder, though, if as educators we could choose only one connection, structural vs. emotional—which would we choose?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Finally, there’s a third parallel from the “Lost” finale that resonates with the work my Jim Joseph Fellowship colleagues and I are doing to build online communities of practice. “Lost” dumped a group of strangers on an island, and we watched as over time they became a community, learning to trust, rely on, and at times, even save each other.

At the end of the finale, Jack, the main character, has a dialogue with his deceased father, that speaks directly to the idea of building community:

“The most important part of your life was the time that you spent with these people,” Jack’s father told him. “Nobody does it alone, Jack. You needed all of them, and they needed you.”

Sounds like the foundational idea behind a good community of practice.