Picking Up The Pieces From Hurricane Harvey

Where do I begin? Today is Monday 9/4. It has been about a week since Hurricane Harvey left Houston, but it feels like it has been a month. I will try to share what these past 11 days have been like, not only for those outside of Houston, but also so that years from now we will be able to read this and remember.

The good news: Our family is ok. After the Memorial Day flood and the Tax Day flood we moved to a nearby apartment so that we would not have to go through this again. So this time we find ourselves with the blessing of being able to help others try to pick up the pieces instead of picking up our own.

The bad news: The entire city was just devastated by this storm which sat over us for 4 straight days and dumped 50 inches of rain. Our shul is flooded once again. Almost every house in the neighborhood is flooded. About ¼ of our staff at school have flooded. And about 30 families in the school as well. This will take a long time, a lot of money, and a lot of love to get through.

Let me start by sharing my own experience during Harvey, knowing that it is nothing compared to those who had to be airlifted by helicopter or rescued by boat from 5 feet of water in their homes.

Last Wednesday (8/23) was the 1st day of school. Teachers stood at the door clapping and cheering as students took those excited but nervous tentative 1st steps into a new school year. The 1st two days went very well. But seeing the forecast for, what was at the time, Tropical Storm Harvey, we decided to dismiss early on Friday at 2:30 (instead of 4:00) and to cancel school on Monday. By Friday morning Harvey was developing into a Hurricane over the Gulf of Mexico and we cancelled school for that day as well.

My wife Elisheva was supposed to fly up to New York Sunday morning with our eldest daughter Shira whose flight to Israel for her Gap Year was Sunday night. Anticipating flight delays or cancellations we changed plans and sent them up on Thursday night instead. They spent Shabbat with family in NJ and Shira made her flight to Israel without a problem. In the end, not only would her Sunday flight have been cancelled. The entire airport was shut down. So it was good that we got them out when we did.

A couple of weeks ago our kids were rear ended driving to the library and so our car has been in the shop. Driving a rental car home from school on Thursday with the twins I went straight home and parked on the higher parking lot in our building, determined to get a spot that would not flood. Earlier in the day I had filled up with gas and stocked up on groceries. I even bought the twins a new board game to get us through the weekend. I did not realize it at the time, but we would be stuck in the building until the following Tuesday afternoon.

Before Shabbat I filled jugs of water in case we lost power. I cooked a good cholent (nervous that it would go bad if the power went out). And I downloaded some kid movies from Netflix for Sunday in case we lost power. We stayed home the whole Shabbat in anticipation of the storm which was coming. We may have broken the record for most board games played, and by around 7pm the skies erupted. Loud thunderstorms and flashes of lightning announced the arrival of Harvey. Tornado warnings kept flashing on the phone and TV. I got the twins to sleep even though Simcha still gets very nervous during loud storms as leftover anxiety from previous floods. [In addition, each night Rina cried because she missed her sister who was off to Israel]. And then I stayed up most of the night watching the water level get higher and higher. I saw a car drive up onto the sidewalk in order to try and stay dry, but by the morning the water was about two inches from its top. In front of our building you could see more flooded cars and the water up to the 2nd story of the apartment building across the street. The local meteorologist said she had seen 2-3 inches of rain/hour before, but had never seen 4-5/hour before. Ultimately, Harvey dropped 19 Trillion gallons of rainwater over Texas (enough to cover all of Texas, California, and Alaska combined with one inch of water). This is a year’s worth of rain in just 5 days!

Basically what was happening was that Harvey hit Corpus Christi (3 hours south of Houston) Friday night as a strong Category 4 Hurricane with 130 mph winds. It then drifted northwest very slowly (around 3mph) and we were on the eastern “dirty” side of the storm, so we got rain band after rain band.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dzn309lDKBs

Around 5:30am the TV and Internet went out. And around 10am the power went out as well. I quickly had one last cup of coffee from the Urn and we spent the next couple of days eating food from the fridge that we didn’t think spoiled and charging phones and kindles in the car. We filled buckets with water from the pool to fill our toilet tanks so that we could flush. And we packed an emergency suitcase with clothes, important papers, and all of Rina’s Diabetes meds in case the water kept rising and we would have to go up to a higher floor. Mercifully, the temperature was cooler than usual so sleeping that night was not as uncomfortable as it could have been.

Both Sunday night and Monday night had heavy rains and rising flood water as I drifted off to sleep, but in the mornings somehow the rains had stopped and the water level gone down a bit. On Monday morning there was a meeting in our building where the manager basically said, “If you want to get out during this lull in the storm do it now because it’s about to get worse.” The storm had moved backwards out to the Gulf and was then forecast to come straight up over Houston. So we had this little window if we wanted to get out. Boats were picking people up and taking them to a staging area where Army trucks would take them to the George R. Brown Convention Center. Many people in the building left, including the manager herself. But on the radio (battery operated) they kept saying to stay sheltered unless you had no other option because even if the streets around you were passable there could be flash floods a few blocks away. They were talking about how if you needed to go up to your attic due to rising waters in your house to only do so if you had an axe to break through to the roof if the waters got even higher. They said it was safer to go up to your roof if need be. A bunch of Jewish families in the building got together and we all agreed to stay put. Even if we wouldn't get power for a few days we could take turns opening our freezers and since we were higher up we felt safe. From my window I could see helicopters airlifting people in baskets from the tops of nearby buildings. It felt like were trapped in this dark hot building and would never see the light of day.

Well, ironically, that same afternoon the power came back on. It turned off a few minutes later but around 4pm it came back for good. Afraid the power would go out again, I quickly had Rina charge her insulin pump and charged my cell phone as well. All three of us took quick showers. I had a warm cup of coffee, filled the tub with water, and washed the pile of dirty dishes. It was so good to have light and AC again, though much of the food by that point had spoiled. We still did not have TV/Internet (that came back just last night) but we were comfortable. Sometimes it takes something really big to make you appreciate the little things.

Harvey ended up moving a little east sparing Houston even more damage. Much of the city was still flooding from overflowing bayous and dams that had to be released. But by Tuesday morning the rain had stopped, the streets around us mostly drained, and we were able to step out for the 1st time to assess the damage. I helped a friend remove flooded couches from his home. I walked through what was once our shul and saw what looked like a war zone. A cousin who lives in a neighborhood that did not flood kindly braved the supermarket lines and brought us some groceries. In the end over 40 people died as a result of the Hurricane and tens of thousands are displaced from their homes. Harvey will end up being the costliest storm in US History (more than Katrina and Sandy combined).

The focus now turned to recovery. We immediately announced that, since our school (Robert M. Beren Academy) thankfully did not flood, we would host a Mini Camp for children in the community whose homes flooded or whose parents were volunteering. Our teenagers stepped up to serve as counselors, and we kept the kids occupied and happy for Wed-Fri. A bunch of teachers and parents shopped and prepared lunch for the kids and for anyone else in the community who needed a hot meal. Elisheva was able to finally fly home on Thursday night. We decided that school would open again on Tuesday 9/5 so that we could give the kids some normalcy and routine in their lives, and allow the parents to do the work they needed to do. But this did not mean we had a nice long weekend to relax. These last two days we have been in the school morning until night hosting the recovery efforts. As much rain fell over Houston in the last week, there has been even more Chesed, and it will not end anytime soon.

An army of volunteers, both from within the Houston Jewish community and beyond (Israel, New York, Baltimore, Miami, Chicago, Atlanta, Dallas…) have turned the school into Ground Zero for recovery efforts. A team from Dallas brought a truck down and they are grilling and smoking 3000 (delicious) meals a day for anyone who needs. Trucks of donations have come in to the point where we are having trouble storing it and getting it all out to the people who need it. Hundreds of volunteers are going house to house helping people remove drywall and floors as well as flooded furniture and possessions. Tens of families have taken in their neighbors for as long as they need. We have received calls or emails from schools and shuls all over the country asking how they can help. The outpouring of support is so appreciated as it helps us know that we are not alone and that others care. I have never felt the concept of Kol Yisrael Areivin Zeh Lazeh as deeply as I have this past week. We have started a campaign to raise 5 million dollars in one week in order to rebuild the shul to a higher level so that this will never happen again and to increase the tuition assistance we can offer families who have lost almost everything. We are also collecting Gift cards to stores that we can distribute to families who need to replace so much.

The theme that I keep thinking about is the idea that at the same time we are so Scattered and yet so Together. Our thoughts are scattered, as there is so much happening at once that it feels at times difficult to maintain your train of thought or to make a coherent decision. Our homes are scattered, as many are now living with friends while they try to find a new place to live. Many people are worrying about not only the short term but also the long term future (how can we sustain a community that has now flooded 3x in the last 27 months?). But the truth is that the shul will rebuild eventually and be beautiful. The homes in the neighborhood will be raised up. And what will remain is a community that has been through the worst together and helped each other through it. It will be a community of Achdut and Strength. It will be more Together than ever before.

Let me talk about one last thing for now, and that is Mental Health. Our community is in the midst of Trauma. This was a terrifying few days. The winds and the flooding took over 40 lives, including the elderly woman who lived next door to the house we used to live in when we flooded the previous two times. On Shabbat I wondered whether I should bench Gomel. On the one hand, thank God, I never felt that we were in any imminent danger. But on the other hand, this entire city should bench Gomel, as every one of us just survived a monster storm. One man who did have to wait out the rising water in his home came down from his aliyah where he had benched Gomel and just burst into tears. There is trauma from the fear of the experience. There is trauma from the immensity of loss. There is trauma from the anxiety over what the future will bring, including for many where they will live and how long it will take to rebuild or recover. There is trauma from the physical and emotional exhaustion of schlepping the garbage to the curb and seeing it everywhere as you walk and drive through the streets. There is trauma from the fear that this could happen again. There is trauma from those who have now flooded three separate times. And there is trauma from those whose homes or apartments did not flood and are feeling survivor’s guilt.

Tomorrow students return to school, many of whom are no longer able to live in their homes. We will try to make school feel like a safe normal place where they can just be themselves. We will provide mental health counseling and will guide our teachers (many of whom are dealing with their own recovery and trauma) on how to support their students as they transition back into day to day reality. We will teach our students about Resilience and Grit. And we will hold on to each other so that even when all the debris is removed and the volunteers are gone we will be able to see the rainbow that always appears after the storm.

To support our school and our shul please contribute here: www.rmbauos.com

Life's A Journey

It's been a while since I last posted a blog. A lot has happened over the last few months, most importantly, the passing of both of my paternal grandparents within the same week back in January. I hope to write about them separately in another post, but suffice it to say for now that they have been in my thoughts often these past months and have shaped much of who I am and what I stand for.

This week we have had the opportunity to spend time with family on happier occasions, enjoying Pesach with both sides of the family. It is so uplifting to take a break from the routine and just enjoy the company of loved ones. During the trip we have added two Urban Adventure Quests to our list, in Baltimore and Philadelphia. For those of you not familiar with this, it is a website where you can participate in scavenger hunts in cities across the country. It is super fun and also educational, and the whole family enjoys it. You walk around solving clues together and discovering hidden gems in the city that you never knew existed. Together with San Antonio, Austin, San Francisco, and Hollywood, we have now completed six quests and can't wait to add more to our list.

And of course, this got me thinking about life and the quests each of us are on. There's a great lyric in a song by Aerosmith that says "life's a journey; not a destination." I don't know about you, but I am always thinking about my journey, reflecting back on what I have learned so far, and thinking ahead to what purpose I will serve in the future. But as the song reminds us, it's not about where you end up so much as how you live along the way. On these Adventure Quests you have to solve all kinds of clues in order to figure out where in the city you are headed next. Some are easy and some are hard. Often you need to work together or ask people for help. And when you do figure out where you are headed next you don't always know how long it will take you to get there or what exactly you will have to do there once you arrive. By the end, the smiles on everyone's faces are not because we have arrived at some spectacular finish line (though by that point we are all happy to return to our air conditioned car). They are because we saw amazing new things, we expanded our knowledge and understanding, and we worked together to achieve our goal. On the drive home we don't think about where the quest ended up; we think about all the great stops along the way.

Tomorrow is both Patriot's Day in Boston (my home town) and the last day of Pesach. Growing up, we would watch the runners in the Boston Marathon run past our house each year on Patriot's Day. While I have never ran a marathon, I imagine that crossing the finish line must feel like the most amazing accomplishment. And yet, even then, I suspect that deep down the runners know more than anyone that the real meaning behind the race is not the moment at the finish line but all the miles along the journey and all the months leading up to the race. And the same is true I think about Bnei Yisrael and Moshe Rabbeinu crossing the Yam Suf as well. They never actually made it to the Promised Land (their children did) but we celebrate their journey because we would not be here without each brave step forward that they took.

I have said it many times and I will say it many more: this blog is for my kids to read as they grow up and go on their own journeys of life. Kids, always make sure to enjoy the journey, even when the finish line is not in sight, and even if you don't even know where the finish line is. Your life is one big Adventure Quest. Work with others, learn new things at every stop, and trust that Hashem (the ultimate Quest Master) will guide you on your journey the whole way through.

Yosemite and Yom Kippur

This past summer our family went on an amazing road trip from San Francisco to Los Angeles, stopping along the way in several National Parks including: John Muir, Yosemite, King’s Canyon, and Sequoia. This year is the 100th anniversary of the National Park system and we figured this would be the year to go. It was really an amazing trip with memories that will last a lifetime. But sitting here during the Aseret Yemei Teshuva, the Ten Days of Repentance between Rosh Hashana and Yom Kippur, I can’t help but reflect on some of the life lessons I hope my kids learned on this trip. I think they are very relevant to anyone trying to grow or achieve a goal:

1) Planning - If you really want to do something amazing you have to plan ahead (Pirkei Avot Chapter 4: “Eizehu Chacham Haroeh et Hanolad - The wise person thinks ahead”). Yes, there is a certain romance or excitement in doing something spontaneous. But when you think about the goals and aspirations that really matter to you they usually require strategy and time. It is one thing to say to yourself “this year I really want to ____________.” It is a lot harder to then sit down and create SMART goals that are Specific, Measurable, Achievable, Relevant, and Time Based. I learned this when trying to plan this two week trip which involved travel, hotels, food, Shabbat plans, and a daily itinerary. In the end the biggest challenge wasn’t even finding kosher food in Yosemite, but finding a place to stay there. Evidently you have to book a year in advance or the lodges sell out. And that bring me to lesson two...

2) Persistence - When I called to book lodging and was told about the need to book a year in advance I had two choices: postpone this trip for a year and go to Plan B, or hold on to my dream and not give up. So each day after work, for about 2 months, I came home and called Yosemite again to see if there had been any cancellations. And sure enough, I was able to book one night, then another, and finally a 3rd night. We had to be a little flexible and take one night in a tent cabin (much more fun than it sounds!). But by not giving up we were able to achieve our goal. If something really matters to you don’t make excuses but rather find a way to get it done.

3) Pave Your Own Trail - We did a lot of walking and hiking during these two weeks. Aside from the great exercise, it allowed us to see so many beautiful things: waterfalls, wildlife, trees, mountains…. Actually, one of the coolest walking days we did was in San Francisco itself. We had never been there before, so on the 1st day we did the typical touristy double decker bus tour of the city, which was very nice. But on the 2nd day we signed up for an Urban Adventure Quest, which are these amazing scavenger hunts you can sign up for and do as a family by answering clues on your phone that take you from clue to clue throughout the city. They have them in many cities across the country and we have done several of them. I highly recommend them (www.urbanadventurequest.com). In San Francisco the Quest took us to parts of the city we would never have known about and it was a really fun way to experience San Francisco.

4) Pace Yourself - One of the mistakes we sometimes make is trying to do too much too quickly. We feel inspired and make big plans but if we do not pace ourselves we are likely to burn out and give up. It’s like the kid in the mall who wants to go up the down escalator for fun. If he sprints up he might run out of steam and then be brought all the way back down. He needs to go up just a little bit faster than the escalator is going down if he wants to reach the top. We learned this the hard way on the day we hiked the Mist Trail in Yosemite. It was a beautiful hike up to a misty waterfall and we had a great time. But when we reached the top after two hours we had a choice to make: do we turn back down those narrow, slippery, crowded stone steps? Or do we hike higher up and then around back down the famous John Muir Trail? Well, hiking the JMT has been a dream of mine for a while, so the choice was easy. Little did we know, however, that this would add about an hour to our hike. And we had very little water. Well, long story short, some nice people shared their water with us, and we took our time going down the switchbacks (paths going back and forth down the mountain because going straight down would have been too steep) until finally reconnecting with the Mist Trail down the mountain. All in all the hike took us about 5 hours and we were exhausted by the end. And let me tell you, those switchbacks were endless and annoying, but we made it and will never forget that day. Which brings me to the next lesson…

5) Patience - Sometimes getting there takes longer than we thought it would (by the 20th switchback we were doubting if we would ever get back down) and despair can set in. But you just have to keep your focus on the goal and keep putting one foot in front of the other. And sometimes there are ups and downs but you have to ride them out. Very often during this road trip the road would climb 3 miles in elevation, then go back down 2 miles, only to go up another 3. But the view is always worth it at the end. We even saw this in the beautiful and flat Napa valley where we visited a kosher winery one day. When we asked if we could pick a grape from the vine to taste it we were told that at this stage in the grape’s development it still tastes very bitter. It takes a long time, but eventually it produces a delicious wine. You just have to give it time to develop. I think this is true for ourselves but also for the way we relate to others. Sometimes we just need to be a little more patient and let the people around us develop and grow into their potential.

6) Peace - One of the moments of this trip we will never forget was coming face to face with a back bear right on the Mist Trail. Along with a few other hikers we tried to get a closer look but suddenly the bear climbed right in front of us in the path (at which point we all backed away nervously). The bear looked around and decided to continue climbing up the side of the mountain, but it took us a few minutes to catch our breath. One of the things they tell you in Yosemite is never to surround a bear because if it has no place to go it will feel threatened and then it could attack. To me this teaches that in order to avoid confrontation with others we should always allow the other person a dignified way out. We can and should talk out issues and try to build shalom bayit, but always in a way that does not seem threatening or attacking.

7) Padlocks - Since I mentioned the bear let me also talk about Bear Boxes. Throughout the park we were told not to leave any food or anything else with a scent (ex. toothpaste, shampoo, deodorant…) in our cars or bags because it would attract bears. Instead they assigned each family a bear box in which to store our food. This got me thinking about deciding which things are really important to us. If you had only a limited space to save the things that are most important to you what would you save and why? If you had only a limited time to spend who would you spend it with and what would you do? What things in our lives are most central to who we are and give us the most meaning? Which aspects of our lives would we guard with a padlock?

8) Paddle - One day we went rafting as a family down the Merced River which runs through Yosemite. At one point I lost my paddle and then fell out of the boat trying to retrieve it, which was very amusing to my kids. But here lies another lesson for Yom Kippur and for life. We all need a paddle to navigate our way through life. We need a guidance system, a way to steer ourselves towards our goals, rather than just letting the currents of time take us where they may. So many people feel like they are stuck in their jobs and in their routines. But with a paddle you are in control and you decide your fate. As Jews, we are fortunate to have the greatest navigation system of all, the Torah. It is there to guide us and help us live lives of meaning.

9) Perspective - Sometimes, looking at something from another perspective helps us appreciate it more. We took a trip up to Glacier Point, which is the huge rock overlooking Yosemite Valley. From the bottom it hovers over the valley with imposing strength and height. But from the top it affords views of the the entire valley. The huge waterfalls that we saw in the valley look like water coming out of the sink from this perspective. And it reminds me that changing one’s vantage point helps us see things differently and understand them better. Maybe this is the meaning behind the Talmud’s teaching that changing your location (shinuy makom) can help accomplish Teshuva. We saw this as well back in San Francisco when we drove north of the city to the top of Mount Tamalpais. From the top of the mountain we were higher than the clouds and could see for miles in every direction. And while there were so many great views during this trip, my favorite might have been Moro Rock in Sequoia National Park. A good 15 minute climb up a stairway built into the cliff leads up to a narrow stretch of rock from which you can see forever. It reminds me that hard work pays off in the end, and that while it is always important to pay attention to details, sometimes seeing the big picture is priceless.

10) Power - One last “P” lesson. After Yosemite we drove south for 3 hours to see the biggest trees in the world at Sequoia National Park. I cannot really describe the feeling of standing next to trees that are the size of tall buildings. You have to experience that for yourself. But it definitely made me feel humble, which is never a bad things. We live in an amazing world, full of beauty and majesty. On the one hand we should remember that the world does not revolve around us. We are but one part of an incredible universe. On the other hand, we should not forget that we too have the potential to be giant Sequoias, and that Hashem wants us to reach for the sky as well. As long as we have a strong root system (our faith) there is no limit to how much we can grow.

Opening Ceremonies

With a new school year starting this week I was looking for some words of inspiration to share with our teachers, and my thoughts immediately turned to the Summer Olympics that have been going on the past few weeks. There are a lot of things that I love about the Olympics: the competition, the mutual respect, the celebration of diversity. And of course, the incredible athletes. But as I thought about it some more, I realized that there are a lot of important messages that we as educators can learn from the Olympics as we embark on another year of teaching.

1) Middot - There is something so uplifting about good sportsmanship. The athlete who helps another runner who fell cross the finish line, or who gracefully shakes their opponents hand after a defeat. 1st and foremost let us remember that we are not only tasked with preparing our students to get into a good college; we are preparing them to become 'A' students at the Game of Life, always conducting themselves with dignity, humiliation, and respect.

2) Effort - World class athletes do not reach that stage overnight. They spend countless hours toiling in the gym, practicing and perfecting their craft, making mistakes and learning from them. Our student sneed to learn that innate ability or intelligence can only get you so far (or limit you so much). Much mire important a factor in one's success is the hard work and effort we are willing to put in, and the grit, determination, and perseverance that we display. Everyone has setbacks and failures, frustrating days where it seems like we will never achieve our goals. But if we teach our students to power through those moments and keep at it we will set them up for success.

3) Overcoming Hurdles - Building off the last paragraph, there are always obstacles (not to mention opponents and competitors) that stand in the way of our goals. Will we give up when success does not come easily or will we find a way of jumping those hurdles and carrying on? As teachers, some of the most important teachable moment are the ones where we help our students process failures. And let's not forget either that we also face hurdles and challenges. Teaching is not easy. But the art of teaching demands Being so focused on the goal that nothing will hold us back.

4) Passing the Baton - Teaching can be a lonely profession. Most teachers spend most of their working days alone in their rooms with their students, rather than collaborating with peers and colleagues. And we often get so narrowly focused on our students and our subject that we lose sight of the bigger picture. The 3 year old teacher may not feel the connection to the 4th grade Hebrew teacher, who may not feel connected to the 8th grade Math teacher, who may not feel connected to the 11th grade Chumash teacher. But if we think of ourselves as teammates in a relay race we can remember that in order for the team to win the race we each must individually do the best we can with our part of the job and then pass the baton to our teammate to take it to the next level.

5) Lighting the Torch - We also can support each other by inspiring each other and our students to achieve greatness. It begins with lighting our own torch and feeling inspired, and it then continues with words of encouragement and sharing a vision and an example for others to follow. Rav Machlis once told me that just as we must light the Chanukah candles "Ad She'Haner Dolek Me'Eleha - until the candle burns on it's own" so too when teaching we must ignite each student's own inner passion for learning so that they will be motivated and excited to learn on their own.

6) Coaching - The cameras always focus on the athlete after the great performance, but, as an educator and parent, I find my eyes always looking for the coach. I love seeing the pride in their eyes when they see all the teaching pay off. No one knows the coaches name. They do not receive a medal. But everyone knows that without them none of this success would have been possible. They were the ones there with the athlete day after day, year after year, in the gym, showing them again and again how to do it right. They were the ones consoling them and giving chizuk after tough losses, and letting them know when the effort level was not enough. As teachers and parents there are some times we have to give tough love and other times we have to give comfort, but great teaching always starts and ends with love.

7) Time - What better way to show our students (and ourselves) the importance of time than the Olympics, when the difference between a Gold medal and last place can often be just hundredths of a second. Young people often take time for granted, putting off assignments until the last minute, and generally feeling little urgency since they have their whole life ahead of them. But what if we could teach to embrace youth and enjoy every minute, while still learning to plan efficiently and make good use of their time? There is a midrash that quotes Rabbi Akiva who teaches that the only two times in Tanach that the number 127 appears are the years of Sarah's life and the provinces rules by Queen Esther. The connection, explains Rav Meir Goldvicht, is that each year that Sarah lived righteously led to another province for her descendant Esther. Which means that each month was another city, each week was another neighborhood, each day another street, and each hour another house.... Every moment counts and is a gift. As the following poem (quoted by Rabbi Efrem Goldberg) states eloquently:

Every Moment Is Precious (Author Anonymous)

To realize the value of ONE YEAR
Ask a student who has failed his exam.

To realize the value of ONE MONTH
Ask a mother who has given birth to a premature baby.

To realize the value of ONE WEEK
Ask an editor of a weekly newspaper.

To realize the value of ONE DAY
Ask a daily wage laborer who has 10 kids to feed.

To realize the value of ONE HOUR
Ask those waiting for a loved one in surgery.

To realize the value of ONE MINUTE
Ask the person who missed the train.

To realize the value of ONE SECOND
Ask a person who has survived an accident.

To realize the value of ONE MILLISECOND
Ask the person who won a “silver” medal in the Olympics.

So my fellow educators and parents, we start a new school year this week. Let us remind ourselves of the powerful impact we can have on our students beyond just the specific subject matter we are teaching. We can instill in them the Middot that we hope they will embrace in the way they treat others. We can teach them that hard work and effort will help them overcome every hurdle and setback that comes their way. We can remind them (and ourselves) that they are not alone, but part of an amazing relay team lighting each other's torch and passing the baton one to the next. We can teach them to appreciate and make every day count. And we can show them that we are always in their corner and on their side, cheering them on and giving guidance, with love.

Let the Games Begin...

Diabetes, Davening, and Dads

It is 1:00am and I can't sleep. That's because I know that in a few more minutes I need to check my 9 year old daughter Rina's blood sugar to make sure she is not having a high or a low. A week ago we rushed her to the ER on Shabbat morning when she was clearly very ill and we were shocked to learn that she has Type 1 Diabetes and was experiencing dangerous levels of hyperglycemia. Thank God, the amazing doctors and nurses at Texas Children's Hospital were able to stabilize her and she came home Tuesday night. But in the last week I feel like I have aged several years. I now speak a new language of Glucose Levels and Ketones and Humalog. I now check blood and give insulin injections several times a day (and if you know me you know that I am a fainter when it comes to blood and needles). And I now wake up (on the rare occasions that all the thoughts rushing through my head slow down enough for me to actually fall asleep) with about 5 seconds of calmness before my chest tightens up and I remember the fear, anxiety, and neverending worry that are now my reality going forward.

Here is the good news. 1st of all, Rina is an amazing child. She does not complain or cry (though she has every right to). She just smiles and allows us to constantly prod and inject and tell her what she can and cannot eat. I am inspired by her strength. 2nd of all, her mother is the strongest (and most giving) person I have ever met. She is also diabetic and is teaching the rest of us how to live with diabetes rather than letting diabetes limit the way you live. 3rd of all, Rina has a brother and a sister who love her more than anything in the world.

But with all that said, this is still a very hard reality to come to terms with. I know many others go through even bigger challenges (Lo Aleinu) and that this will get easier as time goes on and we get used to it. But it is scary and sad and not what any parent wants for their child.

And with today being Father's Day I am sitting here thinking about how blessed I feel every single day to be a father, with all its stress and worry, and how grateful I am to God for giving me the opportunity to raise three beautiful children. Fatherhood is not easy. But it is the most important thing I will ever do in this world and it is the thing that matters the most to me.

I learned about how to be a father by watching my own Abba whom I consider to be the greatest father in the world. He taught me to love, to laugh, and to learn. I watch his dedication to community, to shul, and even to strangers he meets and I am inspired. I watch how he deals with his Parkinsons with grace, courage, and dignity and I am amazed. But mostly I watch his love for his family and his willingness to do anything to help one of his children and I am grateful.

So yes. This has not been an easy week for us. Truthfully, it has not been an easy year. From last Shavuot to this one we have experienced two floods and now this. And I'm pretty sure the inability to sleep or to relax will not go away any time soon. Because when you love someone so much you cannot relax if they are in danger or pain. But at the same time I thank God a million times for the blessing of my children, all three of whom are my pride and joy. I daven to Him with all my heart to keep them safe. And I remind myself that He too is our Father who looks after us and loves us.

One day I hope my kids will read these blog posts. When they do I hope they will really start to understand how much I love them and how proud I am to be their father.

Tests of Endurance

Tonight is seder night. And I have been thinking a lot recently about tests of endurance. (What time does your Seder end? :-)

Over the last few months I have watched several documentaries on Netflix about people who undertake long and difficult journeys to test their limits and discover their potential:

The Long Way Around - 2 British motorcyclists (one of whom is actor Ewen McGregor) ride from London to New York going east.

The Long Way Down - The same 2 guys ride from Scotland to Cape Town.

The Barkley Marathons - Runners race for 60 straight hours through the woods of Tennessee.

Maiden Voyage - A 15 year old girl sails around the globe by herself.

Inspired to Ride - Bicycle riders race from Oregon to Virginia.

Desert Runners - Runners run 5 day Marathons across the 4 biggest deserts in the world (Atacama, Gobi, Sahara, Antarctica)

I'm not sure why I have gotten into these stories recently. They involve travel which I love. But I think it's more about this idea of challenging yourself and discovering unknown strength.

It makes me reflect on what Bnei Yisrael must have felt like as they travelled through the harsh desert for 40 years. Certainly they were happy to be free of slavery. But the seeming impossibility and endlessness of their journey understandably deflated them as well.

As I watched these documentaries I also reflected on the theme of Individuality vs. Community. In some ways these people were leaving their families and the lives they knew to venture off on their own into the unknown. The 15 year old girl even says something like "I think what I love about it is the freedom, the fact that I have no attachments to anyone or anything." But when you watch further you realize that one of the things they love the most is the connections they make along the way. Runners run together. Cyclists help each other out. Even the sailing girl makes deep connections along the way.

Travelling through the desert for 40 years must have been a great ordeal. But they had their Shevet, their tribe. And they helped each other out.

It is hard to fathom, but this week our community in Houston suffered our 2nd devastating flood in the last 11 months. Streets turned to rivers. Houses and cars submerged. The shul destroyed once again. Our community had not even recovered from last year's floods. This just seems unfair, like getting kicked when you're already down for the count.

When displaced from your home after a flood you feel like your equilibrium is off, like your internal GPS telling you where you are in the world so that you can figure out where you are going has to be recalibrated. Do I belong here? Is this my home? When will I be able to settle down and build my life?

But at the same time as everyone feels alone, isolated, and disconnected, an amazing thing happens. You start to realize that while it is true that there is a lot of work to be done, that it seems impossible and endless, and that most of it you will have to do for yourself, it is also true that you are part of a community who are all going through this together with you. That there will be times that you need support from others, and times that they will need it from you. That you will encourage each other and get through it together.

Hard times are not fun. But they make you stronger. They develop in you grit, resilience, and determination. So this Seder night I will try to reflect on the journey of endurance that our People have gone through over the centuries. We have overcome all odds and supported each other along the way. We have moved homes many times, but always felt at home with our families and communities. We have discovered in ourselves reservoirs of strength and potential that we didn't know we had. And in going through our own challenges we have become more sensitive to the trials of others, seeking to heal the world one helping hand at a time. This Seder night let us look around the table, even if it is not our own, and smile when we realize that just as we have gotten to this point together, so too will we always endure and overcome because we are part of an amazing family.

Goodbye 30's, Hello 40's

In about 20 minutes or so it will be my 40th birthday. When I was a kid I used to look forward to my birthday. It was a day of celebration, of cake, of presents, and of parties. But as I get older I find myself hanging on to the positive anticipation while simultaneously dreading it a bit as well. For a while it was because I would think to myself something along the lines of "what have I achieved in my life?" Now I think I am able to reflect on some things I am proud of and grateful for, most importantly my precious family. But still, if you know me well you know that I am not so fun in the days leading up to my birthday. And I think it's because as I get older I realize more and more how quickly life passes by and how easy it is to take things for granted. I have all these things I want to do and places I want to see, and I think to myself, "Im Lo Achshav Ematai - If Not Now When?" I feel a sense of Carpe Diem and a desire to break out of the routine and turn hopes and dreams into plans and reality.

Of course, big numbers like 40 also make me reflect on health and on getting older. I want to stay feeling young and healthy. I appreciate the wisdom that comes with experience (boy was I naive in my 20's :-) but I don't want to lose my sense of adventure and my joy of exploration and discovery.

Looking back on the past decade of my life, it has been mostly about the blessing of raising 3 beautiful children together with my wife Elisheva. And it has been about finding myself in terms of my career. I feel like I grew a lot as a person in my 30's and there are aspects of my life that I would never have imagined 10 years ago (Twins, being a Principal, living in TX). So now, as I close one decade of life and begin the next, I can only imagine what is in store. I pray for good health for me and my loved ones. I pray for a sense of belonging and that I am making a difference in the world. I pray for the ability to keep learning and growing as a person. I hope to focus more on my health, and to improve my diet and exercise. And I hope to see as many new places as I can this decade. Over the last 5 years or so I have developed a new and unexpected love of maps, geography, and travel. There is an amazing world out there that Hashem created and I want to see it all.

So here's to my 40's. May they be even better than my 30's and may I never take this precious life for granted.

Mission Control

For lots of people the 1st thing they think of when thinking about Houston is NASA. How many movies include the line, "Houston, we have a problem?" You can even go to the Johnson Space Center and visit the original Mission Control where they oversaw the Moon landing.

Why am I thinking about Mission Control these days? Because, as we prepare to enter Yom Kippur the theme of Control is very much on my mind. You see, we go through life, month after month, believing that we are in control, that our life will follow a certain path and timeline. But then life happens, there are bumps in the road, and we are reminded that, as my mother taught me many years ago, "Man tracht un God lacht - man plans and God laughs."

About four months ago we suffered a massive flood here in Houston, the night after Shavuot. For so many of us it shook the foundations out from under our feet. Even the notion of going to sleep relaxed is called into question once you wake up in the middle of a flood. Every time it rains or the sky even gets dark my son is afraid that another flood may be coming. And if I'm honest, every once in a while, during a hard rain, I kind of feel that way too.

We have been really lucky. We were able to return to our rental house after just two months (many will not return to their old house at all), and although it has been exhausting starting over and setting up our home again, we feel blessed to have a roof over our heads. But as I said, one of the life lessons we will take from this crazy chapter of our lives is that we are not always in control. Things happen, both good and bad, that we would never have expected. All we can control is how we respond.

On one level, this keeps life exciting and unpredictable. But on the other, it can produce anxiety when you realize that all your hard work and future plans can change in an instant. So, while I am not suggesting that we should live completely in the moment and disregard planning for the future, I am saying that we should not take any day for granted, and that we should tell the people we love how much they mean to us every time we speak.

Personally, I tend to be drawn towards tasks or situations that I can control or predict, and tend to avoid tasks or situations that are beyond my control. This is because I only have so much time and energy in the day, so I'd like to maximize my chances of success. That is probably why I enjoy problem solving tasks such as puzzles and schedules, and why all my work is on Google Docs. The irony is that I had 3 large puzzles that were waiting to be framed that flooded, and that if Google decides to they could just erase all my documents in an instant (maybe I should back those up?).

So do we throw up our hands and just go with the flow (external locus of control) or do we do everything we can to try and control our lives (internal locus of control)?

On the one hand Chazal tell us that איו הדבר תלוי אלא בי - the matter depends completely upon me. But they also teach that הכל בידי שמים חוץ מיראת שמים - everything is in the hands of Heaven except for the fear of Heaven.

I think it means that we should do the best we can with the cards we are dealt, put in our Hishtadlut (planning and efforts), and have Bitachon (trust) that everything that "happens to us" is for a reason and to help us grow.

As the saying goes from the 12 step programs:

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
The courage to change the things I can,
And the wisdom to know the difference.

Standing in shul this Yom Kippur, wondering what new surprises God has in store for us for the coming year, I will remind myself that my mission is not to always be in control. That even if life is not always predictable, I am always "under control," that is, under the control and care and support of a loving God. I will continue to do my best to make what I think are good life decisions, but will also try to be humble enough to remember that Hashem is with me through it all.

A Flood of Support

I am not a person who likes to ask for or receive help. I guess maybe it makes me feel weak or in debt. In fact, the Hebrew word for thanks, Todah, shares the same root as the word Modeh, admit, because when we thank someone we are in a sense acknowledging that we needed them and couldn't do it alone.

I used to think it was funny that in Hebrew when someone thanks you the way to say you're welcome is B'vakasha, please. Why would we say please when we mean to say you're welcome? At 1st I thought it was a macho Israeli thing, as if to say, "What? You want to make a big deal and thank me! Please! It was a piece of cake for me! It was nothing!" But the truth is, what I think we are saying is something more like "please don't hesitate to ask again. It is a pleasure and honor to help you. You are welcome to ask any time."

Either way, I suspect I am not the only one who prefers not to be on the receiving end. In fact, our Rabbi here in Houston, Rabbi Barry Gelman, focused his Drasha this week on the fact that while often Rabbis try to convince others to give, this week he wanted to convince those in need to take. Not to be too prideful, or afraid to impose.

This past week has been like a movie. The toll the damage took, both physical and emotional, on so many people is hard to comprehend. But the most amazing and unbelievable thing about this week, even more than the flood of water that engulfed our neighborhood, has been the flood of support and love from so many, near and far, loved ones and strangers.

The community immediately mobilized into action, even before the waters had receded. People were rescued from their homes. Families were taken in with no check out date in sight. Meals have been coordinated non-stop in what remains of our shul. Friends have rolled up their sleeves to help salvage what could be salvaged, shlep out what could not, and pack and move everything that remained. Cars have been loaned. Play dates have been arranged. Snacks and meals for children whose homes flooded were provided for them at school. Strangers walk the streets with their children dragging red wagons full of water, coffee, and snacks. People keep bringing by cleaning supplies, boxes, and food. Our laundry has been taken to homes all over the community to wash and cleanse. Gift cards have been dropped off which, when opened, leave one in tears. Emails are going out daily with the latest helpful info. So many of our High School students were either affected directly by the flood or spending 6 hour shifts helping neighbors, that the school offered them a choice to either take their Final Exams this week or perform flood relief work instead (needless to say most chose the Chesed option). Yeshiva University has sent down students to help. Many people have spent hours working in the shul, which was completely flooded as well.

There were so many people coming into the house to help that at one point on Friday I left the house and went around to neighbors for an hour trying to help them a little bit (and in the process met some lovely people I had never met before). I just could not keep saying thank you and not giving back a little as well.

This is what community is all about. We support each other and are there for each other, in good times and bad. [We even celebrated a beautiful Bar Mitzva in shul this past Shabbat of a very special family whose son is coincidentally named Noah!] It is both inspiring and demanding at the same time. The more others are doing for us the more we want to pay it forward and give to others.

Which brings me, finally, to the Go Fund Me page started on our behalf by our family. I am in tears when I see how much money has been raised to help us get back on our feet. I figured maybe a few friends might contribute $18 each or something. I just cannot believe that so many people have given (149 at last count) and that they have been so generous. It is touching to see names of people from all parts of our past who still care about us and want to help. It's so thoughtful that many people have even shared the link on their page and written such kind things about us. It is amazing that some of the people giving we do not even know, but they are friends of friends who want to do a good deed.

There is still a big part of me that feels embarrassed to ask for or to accept support from others. I don't know if I will ever get past that. Please will always be a hard word for me. But I will never feel uncomfortable saying Thank You. It is incredibly humbling and uplifting to receive so much support from so many and there are not enough words to describe our gratitude. We will always remember this incredible feeling of security knowing that there are so many ready to catch us if we fall. And we will try to do the same for others in their times of need. I may not like asking B'vakasha, but I will absolutely say it in the sense of "please know that should you ever need a hand from us we will be honored to do what we can for you as you have done for us."

A Water Logged Blog

It's hard to put into words what it's like to see your house and cars under water. We woke up at 3am hearing dripping noises and realized (if you call it that) that our entire one story house was covered in water up to our ankles. We jumped into panic mode, foolishly thinking that if we put towels by the door somehow that would help. And we then spent about an hour trying to save as much of our belongings as we could. Thank God, I was able to save all of my Sefarim in time. We also found important documents, medicine, and whatever else we could that was low down. Ironic though that the one night I put my iPad down on the floor before going to bed, instead of on my bedside table, there was a flood. Oh well. [Still, take a minute to think about which things are most important to you, and put them somewhere safe].

The kids were of course in shock, but we tried to reassure them that we were safe and just wanted to keep as much as we could from getting wet. The twins, half asleep, followed our directions to try to move their books onto their beds, but didn't think to leave the ones that were already under water where they were. Goodbye two more mattresses. Also, note to self: not a good idea to unplug a DVD player submerged in water unless getting electrocuted gives you a thrill.

After about an hour the water was up to our knees and we realized it was time to leave the house and go across the street to neighbors whose house is raised up. When we opened the back door water burst through. We got out as quickly as we could and started walking down the driveway. Before we even reached the street the water was up to my waist and I needed a neighbor to help me carry the twins across.

[A few days later on Shabbat, the rabbi invited every individual who wanted to come up, one at a time, a recite Birchat HaGomel, the blessing after one survives a dangerous situation. I chose not to recite it, because I never felt like it was life threatening. Friends had to literally swim through water that was up to their neck, pushing their kids in boats or boogie boards. However, maybe I am in denial about how scary this was and maybe I really should recite the bracha.]

Six families, wet, scared, and in shock, along with several frightened dogs as well, spent the next 10 hours or so trying to make sense of what was happening, figure out what had to be done next, and give each other Chizuk. Sitting on the front steps, watching the street you live on turn into a river is indescribable.

We have lived through hurricanes before in Florida, which in many ways are more frightening. But this flood was so unexpected. The flash flood warning signal on the TV that night for Harris County was ignored because 1) we see those often and it always just means a rainy night, and 2) Harris County is huge so you assume it means somewhere else. Anyway, long story (and long night) short, by sunrise there were a few people in boats trying to rescue neighbors in trouble, and by about 10am you could see the tip of the fire hydrant sticking out. Sitting with my son on the front steps we talked about how the dove must have felt after the flood, searching for an olive branch on which to rest.

When the water receded to just above the knees I walked back and was surprised to find the water in the house only up to my ankles. It was, of course, a mess. Things floated all over, garbage spilled, there was a strong sewage odor, and everything was soaked. Ironically, though the real house didn't do so well, the Lego house my kids had built stayed perfectly intact.

The next few days are a blur. Sweeping out the water. Throwing out furniture (beds, sofas, rugs, bookcases, dressers, china cabinets, desks) and anything else that got wet (clothes, toys, old baseball cards). Salvaging whatever we could by air drying with fans. Watching our front yard and entire street turn into a huge garbage dump.

At some point, I realized that there was more furniture outside than in, so I tried to cheer myself up by setting up this scene (notice the cheap rent sign):

Friends generously took us in to stay with them. In fact, our entire neighborhood is made up of families hosting others who have flooded. Someone else lent us a car (both of our cars had been paid off but are now goners). We took turns going to work while working on the house. We were so tired that each morning, when we woke up, our feet would still be hurting.

It took a couple of days until word started to get out about how big a disaster area this was, but when it did it went viral. I will write another post about all the great Chesed that is going on, which is truly incredible and inspiring. For now, however, we have finally reached the point where we can come up for air for a minute (which is why I finally have time and energy to blog). We have thrown most of our furniture and many of our belongings out. The rest we have placed in the kitchen, patio, or bathrooms. The walls of the house have been cut up to 2 feet and the wood floors all removed. Now we wait a few days for everything to dry out. We have many fans and dehumidifiers going.

There is not much else we can do for the house right now. Now the focus turns to dealing with Car Insurance, FEMA, and all that sort of stuff. Unfortunately, we did not know when signing up for our Renter's Insurance that that does not cover flooding, but we have not really had time to process the financial side of this. The bigger issue, even more important than money, or possessions, is the emotional well-being of our kids, each of whom has taken turns melting down in their own way. Aside from the trauma and fear, and the loss of special possessions, I think the biggest thing for them is the uncertainty. Which of my things survived? Where is everything? Where will we sleep/eat tonight? When can we move back home? Will this ever happen again?

Although this has been, and continues to be, very hard, we will get through this. I know this because 1) we have been through worse things in the past and gotten through them by supporting each other, and 2) we are in this together with our entire community who are all helping each other out. It will be a long recovery, both physically and emotionally, but we are resilient and our family and our community will pick ourselves up and start over. And the next time we wake up in that house, our feet won't hurt and we won't be stepping in water.