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January 12, 2005
Ariel Goes to College...Or Not
Oxygen canister slung over my shoulder, Ariel and I wandered the UCLA campus. Home from Ner Yisroel because of the fibrosis in his lungs, Ariel had decided to take a few courses at UCLA in subjects that he couldn’t get at yeshiva. He signed up for Physics and American History: The Revolutionary Period. It was a strange experience for Ariel to be on a campus where girls were more undressed than dressed, where young men scooted about on skateboards; where so many students sported neon colored hair, pagan tattoos and gut-churning body piercings. It was a universe far removed from the devout yeshiva world Ariel had been steeped in all his life. I admired Ariel’s courage. Not a socially outgoing personality, I knew how hard it was for him to step into new and unfamiliar situations.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” I said to him. “We can go home, don’t worry about the deposit.”
“I’ll be fine,” said Ariel.
“You haven’t been in class with girls since you were in grade school at Hillel Hebrew Academy.”
“I’ll manage, Dad, don’t worry.” He gave me his most patient smile.
It was a hot day. Frequently, Ariel had to stop to catch his breath, I carried the oxygen tank for him; he was too weak to schlep it himself.
I escorted Ariel into the physics classroom and arranged the oxygen tank under his desk. As the students trooped in, I noticed that Ariel was the only one wearing a yarmulke. In fact, almost all the students were Asian. So much for cultural stereotypes. Outside, I sat and read and, naturally, worried. What if his oxygen malfunctions? Will he be able to signal me? I peeked into the classroom. Ariel was paying close attention to the lecturer. But he wasn’t taking notes with his fountain pen. How odd. Ariel always took notes. Oh, well, he was breathing all right, and I continued my solitary vigil outside.
Forty-five minutes later, Ariel exited.
“How was it?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean?”
“I couldn’t understand a word the professor said. He’s Chinese and his English is just awful. I did not understand one word he said.”
“I guess you’ll have to drop the course, huh?”
“Yup.”
“Okay, maybe two courses are too much for you anyway. I’m sure the American history course will be better.”
An hour later, Ariel came out of the history course with an expression on his face that immediately told me that something was seriously wrong.
“How was it?”
“The professor cursed.”
“Cursed whom?”
“He used obscene language in his lecture.”
“To make a point?”
“No, it’s just the way he talked. He has a filthy mouth. I couldn’t believe it. Is this normal for college?”
"Welcome to the culture of higher education."
"I've never heard such shmutz, daddy."
“Can’t go back, right?”
“I’m afraid not.”
And so Ariel’s brief career as a student at UCLA began and ended on the same day. I did not write any scolding letters to UCLA. I didn’t see the point. Ariel is not your average student, not your typical American male and for this, we have always been thankful.
Posted by Robert J. Avrech at January 12, 2005 04:03 PM
Comments
Seraphic Secret is private property, that's right, it's an extension of our home, and as such, Karen and I have instituted two Seraphic Rules and we ask commentors to act respectfully.
1. No profanity.2. No Israel bashing. We debate, we discuss, we are respectful. You know what Israel bashing is. The world is full of it. Seraphic Secret is one of the few places in the world that will not tolerate this form of anti-Semitism. That's it. Break either of these rules and you will be banned.
The reader is probably aware of many facets of Ariel's life. However, consider the repect of a parent for his child's decisions. Ariel was gifted with extraordinary parents. Both Ariel and his parents are truly role models for us.
Thanks, Mr. Avrech, for reminding me of this event.
Posted by: Avi and Shaindy Stewart at January 14, 2005 09:45 AM
Based on all I know of your dear son, I believe that if Ariel would have stuck around in college--whether for one class or a dozen classes--he definitely could have taught his professors and classmates a thing or two!
Posted by: Pearl at January 15, 2005 04:30 PM
Sir,
I have often times found myself in a similar situation. Often times I have had to either take classes, or work with superiors who had an incomplete grasp of the english language, and or a very thick accent.
I believe you have two daughters who will be, or are in college. I would recomend that they not drop a class due to the instructors language skills. In my experience, you soon enough learn to "decipher" the words you are hearing. It may take a few days, but eventually you understand it. I am not saying it is preferred to have an instructor that is difficult to understand, but it is an obstacle that can be overcome.
Best wishes.
P.S. You have my deepest condolences on the death of your son. I am sorry it happened.
Posted by: Travis at January 23, 2006 12:20 PM
Travis:
Thanks so much for your wise and articulate comment.
Regarding my daughters: Offspring #2 just graduated Stern College for Women which is a division of Yeshiva University. It is one of the least politically correct U's in America. Which is to say that the Profs speak English, do not spout Marxist propaganda, and there is no Women's Studies Department.
In short, my daughter has received a sane and very fine education.
Offspring #3 is in her Senior year of a Yeshiva HS. She will spend the next year at an all women's seminary in Jerusalem where she will study Torah, Jewish philosophy and ethics and other advanced Jewish classes.
After that she moves on to Stern College.
My daughters are well educated, and have escaped the poisonous brainwashing of the "elite" American universities--thus they are better Jews, better Americans and most certainly finer women for it.
Welcome to Seraphic Secret Travis, Karen and I sincerely hope that you will become a regular reader and even more important -- a regular commentor.
Posted by: Robert Avrech at January 23, 2006 01:01 PM