The Hidden Gifted

By Rabbi Reuven Elkins

 

            Due to the sensitive nature of these stories, names and identifying details have been changed.

Ten-year old Yossi was good-natured yet serious, a talkative likeable boy.  His father was a lawyer who kept regular sedarim, loved learning, and wanted the best chinuch for his children.

It had been a great year for Yossi in yeshivah.  He was the pride of his rebbi, and he learned Chumash, Rashi and Mishnayos regularly with his father.   He was way ahead of his class, physically, intellectually, and academically.  His questions were excellent.  Once he grasped the translation, he would notice contradictions in the language of the Mishnah, asking questions raised by the Gemara or Rishonim that would send his rebbi or his tutor searching for answers.

Both Yossi’s rebbi and menahel felt he should transfer to a higher level yeshivah.  Surprisingly, he was rejected by several “top” yeshivos, and  even the less competitive ones wouldn’t grant him an interview.  Why?  For several years, Yossi had been a talmid in a yeshivah for learning-disabled boys.  Despite his enormous strides, when he was ready for mainstreaming, no one was ready to take him.

Finally Yossi got his break.  The menahel of a small but excellent yeshivah agreed to grant him a farher.  It was a tough test.  The menahel made every attempt to mix him up, firing one question after another at a nervous Yossi, in the presence of his even more nervous father.  But Yossi held his ground.  True, his reading was still weak, and he was behind in a few areas.  But his understanding and reasoning were, if anything, above average.  The principal accepted him on a trial basis.

Surprisingly, he was rejected by several “top” yeshivos, and even the less competitive ones wouldn’t grant him an interview.

With tutoring, Yossi kept up with his class.  By the next year, he was getting almost all alephs and, two years later, at Yossi’s bar mitzvah, the same menahel praised his hasmadah as “a credit to the yeshivah and an example to his entire class.”

 

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In elementary school, Leibel had severe writing difficulties.  He would fail any written class work; his test papers were so illegible that even correct answers were marked wrong.  Despite his quick mind, he remained at the bottom of his class.

Then, when Leibel was in third grade, something happened.  He discovered an old typewriter, and taught himself to type.  Soon, he began schlepping it to yeshivah on test days.

Leibel never did write legibly, even as an adult.  But type he did, in Hebrew as well as in English   He produced volume after volume of  English sefarim, becoming one of the most influential Torah writers in our generation.

 

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             How disabled are students who experience difficulty learning? How

 

How disabled are students who experience difficulty learning? How great is the chance that they will become good or even excellent students?

 

great is the chance that they will become good or even excellent students? How can we help them succeed?

 

The guiding principle for all parents and mechanchim is the advice of Shlomo Hamelech in Mishlei: “Chanoch lana’ar al pi darko­ — educate the child according to his way.”

 

In practice, what does this mean? The Chovos Hatalmidim explains, that the mechanech must “reach out to the talmid and dwell within his smallness… until he reaches a spark buried within him, brings it out and makes it grow and become great … because of this the chinuch of all children cannot be the same; it is totally dependent upon each child, his nature, his inclination, his way of understanding, his character. …this is hinted to us by ‘al pi darko’ — according to the derech of each individual child.”[1]

 

Every child, from the most gifted to the slowest, needs to be understood and nurtured according to his unique natural tendencies.

 

 

Every child, from the most gifted to the slowest, needs to be understood and nurtured according to his unique natural tendencies. The child with difficulties may need special attention, understanding and appreciation. Since that spark of confidence, inspiration or kedushah may be buried deeper, parents and mechanchim may have to work harder to bring it out.

 

But this individualized treatment is not an extra privilege

 

This individualized treatment is not an extra privilege demanded by the child with difficulty. It is the way Shlomo Hamelech has taught us to be mechanech every Jewish child.

 

demanded by the child with difficulty.  It is the way Shlomo Hamelech has taught us to be mechanech every Jewish child.

 

 

*          *          *

 

 

Shmuel was clearly the top of his class—through sixth grade.  He was bright and eager to please, a favorite with rebbis and teachers alike.  Beginning Gemara was a challenge, but he kept up, listening carefully to his rebbi, and then taking the lead in class discussions.  He did wonderfully on oral farhers —and usually failed the written ones, especially those with questions in lashon hakodesh.  Somehow, his hand never went up when the rebbi asked for a volunteer to read the Gemara.

 

Searching for a high school was a nightmare, both for Shmuel and for his father, who secretly relived his own painful youth, as he watched menahel after menahel point to a Gemara, ask Shmuel to read a few lines, and then gently suggest that maybe a different yeshivah would be more suitable.  Finally, one yeshivah agreed to accept him, on the condition that Shmuel’s parents obtain specialized help to take care of his “problem.”

 

Shmuel’s father (a carpenter of limited means) jumped at the chance, saying he didn’t want his son to experience the frustration of his own yeshivah days.

 

Shmuel’s problems, it turned out, were not limited to reading Gemara.  His kriah was weak, and so were his language skills in lashon hakodesh, skills which his peers seemed to have absorbed through osmosis.  Shmuel, the boy who would never look “inside,” had to get to work, mastering what he had somehow missed, struggling over skills his friends had achieved “naturally.”

 

The following September, at a meeting of principals, the menahel who had originally accepted Shmuel referred to him as “that boy who had serious kriah problems.”  The afternoon bekius rebbi, who happened to be the menahel’s nephew, turned to his uncle and exclaimed, “Shmuel?  He’s the one of the only ones in the shiur who can really make a leining!”

 

 

 

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The story of Rabi Akiva, who began learning at age 40, is often cited as a chizuk to late starters.  His wife Rochel is praised for her mesirus nefesh for her husband’s learning.  But Rav Yisroel Plutchok, shlita, has pointed out an even greater gift that Rochel gave Rabi Akiva.  Rochel gave him confidence; she was able to communicate her belief in him, her faith that he could and would overcome the awesome and overwhelming challenges he faced. It was her belief that gave him the strength to begin the long road, and that carried him every step of the way.

 

He must show the talmid his confidence in his abilities and in the possibility for his success, no matter what challenges lie before him.

 

This, Rav Plutchok explained, is the challenge of the mechanech and of the parent.  He must show the talmid his confidence in his abilities, and in the possibility for his success, no matter what challenges lie before him.  A rebbi or a parent who instills this sense of confidence and trust in his talmid or child has given him the greatest gift of all: the will, the strength and the confidence to succeed.[2]

 

 

*          *          *

 

 

Daniel struggled through high school, one frustrated rebbi after another wondering “What will be with this boy?”  Daniel seemed intelligent enough in conversation.  His “street smarts” were first-class—he could plot a cross-country trip on the back of a napkin better than a GSO navigator. But in yeshivah he produced virtually nothing.  Popular and happy-go-lucky, he never seemed to have time to study, with not surprising results.

 

Careful evaluation indicated that he had only mild kriah issues, but more serious weaknesses in other learning skills.  With some prodding and special motivation to prime the pump, Daniel consented to work part of the morning on his skills; after all, how much was he gaining in class anyway?

 

Daniel was taught a unique method (an original technique that had been developed with the guidance of Rav Simcha Wasserman zt”l).  This technique enabled Daniel to decode and translate the text independently, to develop his own questions and answers, and then to write out the structure of the Gemara, finally expressing it visually in a flow chart.

 

Watching Daniel pore over his notes, one might think he was drawing up architectural plans for a building contractor; yet anyone familiar with the Gemara outlined that way would recognize a visual map of the sugya, at a respectable level of depth and analysis.  Once Daniel had mastered this technique, not only did he become conversant in the Gemara at hand, but more important, he could prepare new material, hold his own with chavrusas and in shiur, and retain his learning.

 

 

 

*          *          *

 

 

 

The common perception is that, even if we fulfill our chiyuv to help a weaker talmid achieve his potential, the true needs of Klal Yisrael will be served by enabling a gifted talmid to grow fully in learning.  But this is not so.  We have no way of knowing, even once we’ve uncovered and

 

We have no way of knowing, even once we’ve uncovered and fanned that inner spark, who is truly gifted, whose potential is greater.

 

fanned that inner spark, who is truly gifted, whose potential is greater.

 

Hagaon Harav Chaim Pinchas Scheinberg, shlita, says, “…I have seen brilliant talmidim end up as disappointments and the mediocre talmid, through his hasmadah, grow up to be that rare Gadol baTorah…If a talmid is unsuccessful . . .it is not proof of  anything.  He should just keep going and never give up.  Perhaps, b’ezras Hashem, he has within him the potential to be that Gadol baTorah. [3]

 

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Eliyahu had experienced reading problems in both English and lashon hakodesh in elementary school.  He also had some language processing problems in the early grades.  With intensive remediation in English he performed well.  He also improved each year in the Limudei Kodesh department so that by 9^th grade he was moved up into the highest class.  In 10^th grade he became one of the top talmidim in his class.  In fact, other boys turned to him with questions on the shiur. He graduated with honors, passing all the New York State Regent exams as well.

 

The next year all this came to an abrupt halt.  Eliyahu was required for the first time to sit in the beis medrash with a chavrusah for the entire morning. But he could not read and had almost no Chumash or Gemara vocabulary. He had relied upon his superb auditory skills and brilliant

 

Eliyahu became depressed and talked about leaving yeshivah altogether.

 

mind, always managing to get others to do the reading, for the relatively short sessions in mesivta.  In beis medrash, however, this strategy no longer sufficed. Eliyahu became depressed and talked about leaving yeshivah altogether.

 

Eliyahu spoke at length to

 

one of the Gedolim, who suggested that he use afternoon or night seder to take care of the problem once and for all.

One of the Gedolim suggested that he use afternoon or night seder to take care of the problem once and for all.

 

 

Enormous strides were made in a matter of months, thought the full program in limudei kodesh skills would take him more than two years to master. Yet today, Eliyahu is a prominent and highly successful mechanech in one of America’s most respected yeshivos.

 

 

 

 

Reprinted with permission of THE HAMODIA A New Chapter September 2006 / Elul 5766