Hooray for the Bar Mitzvah teacher
By TED ROBERTS, the SCRIBBLER ON THE ROOF
Who’s the hero of the Bar Mitzvah reception? Who garners more attention than the kid himself? Maybe that’s why I, a long-time instructor, love Bar Mitzvah parties. Especially those with waiters passing out apps – no, not computer applications, but appetizers. And an open bar; with NO tip cup. My fondness for free food and drink is enhanced by the fact that I’m the Bar Mitzvah teacher, not just a plain old guest.
Of course, in the old days in Pinsk or Minsk, the teacher was feted like royalty. We Jews have always grandly treated learning. There’s an ancient Midrash that says Moses, Elijah, and Einstein began their careers as Bar Mitzvah teachers. “Have a roast duck stuffed with mushrooms, Mr. Roberts.” Family: “Here, Mr. Roberts, have a bottle of fine Rothschild champagne.” Or, “Teacher, as you instructed young Shimmy, did you notice his older sister, a beauty like Sarah? And such a cook. I think she likes you. Who couldn’t love a teacher like you?”
That’s the old days. We don’t reach that level of reverent generosity anymore. But still there are party perks. Usually, gracious acknowledgement of your devotion to young Shimmy. The trick is to be modest and still underline your contribution to Shimmy’s Haftorah – best done outside the hearing of the parents, who are sure that young Bennie, if not the Mosiach, is at least his assistant. One wants to imply that the child was a little stubborn, a little dumb, a little tone deaf until you came along with a bundle of tutorial skills and clever incentives and turned him into a Hochum (“genius”, to you non-Yiddish speakers). And a candidate for the Metropolitan Opera, too. (“Did you hear how he sang his Haftorah?”) Since most everybody is a little snookered from the contents of the bar, it’s an easy role to play. The trick is NOT to leave the impression that the student is an empty head, but still, were it not for you, well, he may have been the first Jew on record to “fail” his Bar Mitzvah.
“Oh, that Bart Mitzvah teacher. Oy, whatta teacher. So modest. And Shimmy never could read Hebrew and he sang off key ‘til Mr. Roberts came along.” Your response need only be a smile of acknowledgement and a humble hanging of the head. That says it all. It’s best not to play the game, naturally in the hearing of the parents. In that situation, fervid denials of your contribution work best – then THEY proclaim your virtues. After all, you did devote twelve months worth of visits to Shimmy’s performance.
But given all this praise of the teacher, deserved or not, a real danger overhangs the whole situation. You might get so wrapped up in your strategy that you miss those delicious broiled lamb chops and stuffed mushrooms that are going around. It’s nice to enhance your tutorial credentials, but you don’t want to leave the reception and buy supper that night. I’ve found that the best strategy in this arena is a simple, but highly effective one. I hate to reveal it to the Bar Mitzvah world, but don’t we Bar Mitzvah teachers have to disseminate wisdom? Simply follow the waiter with the lamb chops. Don’t be waylaid by guests anxious to chat. Like a bloodhound, follow the chops or whatever you judge the prime offering to be. Everybody wants to talk to the teacher. Don’t let ‘em get in your way. I’ve even known bold teachers to request guests for a detour to the bar. Yes “and don’t forget a white wine for the wife”. Meanwhile, you track the bearer of those delicious lamb chops served with mustard sauce.
But a moment of seriousness. It is the job of the Bar Mitzvah teacher, like all teachers, to motivate. And 90% of that task is not intellectual, but inspirational. Who are we and most importantly, what have we given to the world? Our Book says a light should go out of Zion. Be proud of your mission. That beats the heck out of lamb chops.
