Friday, 17 June 2016

Sink or Drown

So we're in the headlines again. This time no one's been arrested or convicted, no abuse has been covered up, no school is faced with closure and no followers of 2 rival rebbes have come to blows. Not only are we in the headlines but some of us even got a ride on a chopper - for free - while the consolation prize for the rest was a trip on a real lifeboat.

This is mamesh the matzev of matzevs except that, strangely, Hamodia sunk the story on page 39, which is probably where Pravda buried its story of the Chernobyl nuclear disaster. I must be exaggerating because of course there was no disaster, nuclear or otherwise, and all that happened was that the lives of 34 boys were at risk but anyhow nothing happened in the end especially after Shomrim turned up on the scene so what's all the fuss about?

Well, let me tell you exactly what the fuss is about. The fuss is that our schools, communal leaders, rabbis, askonim and the whole bang lot of individuals, committees, institutions, charities, organisations, va'ads and whatnots give not one hoot for our children or our adults for that matter. You read that correctly: not one hoot. That is what the fuss is about though given the washes we're put through some might think even that's not a great deal.

When it's abuse we say it's not true because the allegers have left the community and so perforce must be lying. When a guy, a menahel no less, is caught on camera red handed he's apparently showing affection to the poor kid. And when we are finally forced to confront some uncomfortable truths because the lies and cover-ups have exhausted themselves we switch gears. Sexual issues are too sensitive for our poor fragile souls and so it's best for the victims to be sent packing while the perpetrators continue plying their wicked trade unhindered. And all the while doubting whether the modern world's fuss about the whole subject is all that it's cooked up to be.

If it's corporal punishment the tone shifts yet again. The odd beating has never done any harm, it's being phased out and it was just a one, or two or three, off. When it's accidents, well we have Hatzole so no one needs to know. And when it's just a downright lousy education in decrepit buildings, it's because we care for their souls and that is what really matters.

We have become so desensitised to what we're capable of that even after a saga like this it took headlines in the national and local press - but never our own - to tell us exactly what went wrong. It would not be fair to name the yeshive concerned because they are no worse than any of our other local schools or yeshives. One could argue they are better because while the rest of the kids were dragged off to the most idiotic demonstration only our turnip-brained unemployed are capable of putting on, this yeshive at least gave its kids a day off. They also did not take them to Chessington Zoo or Trent Park or some other unimaginative outing but travelled further afield to Dover with its white cliffs and stark coast line. Mind you they did take some local flak but that was not for the risks they exposed the kids to but rather for taking the boys on frivolous excursions a few days before Shavuos. Just imagine the boys had been introduced to Vera Lynn and The White Cliffs of Dover, now that would have been a scandal.

As a catalogue of near, and actual, mishaps has shown, whether it's Clissold Park, Dover or Kathmandu, as far as some of us are concerned, the dress code must always remain the same. Our kit has supposedly seen us through two thousand years of exile and so it should be able to withstand the odd rough patch thrown up by the British Isles. Thus, whether it's the Scottish Highlands, Snowdonia, Cumbria or, as in this case, below the Dover cliffs, forget Berghaus or North Face. It's black city shoes, buttoned white shirts, suit trousers with a below-knee jacket and that on top of a waistcoat. A concession of Tzitzis on top of shirt may be made but only for the super cool trying to earn their Nike swoosh. Just don’t do it, ought to be their moto.

This attitude is not confined to the UK and covers not just kids. To the contrary the more of us there are the worse it gets. Just over a year ago, two people were trampled to death at the funeral of Rav Wosner in Bnei Brak. Of course, accidents can happen anywhere but it’s the reaction that marks out the responsible and sensible from the daft and reckless.

No enquiry was set up, no one has been prosecuted, no one has lost his (always 'his') job and no one has been held accountable in any way. That is two people dead. Passed away. Went up to Heaven. Went to the Garden of Eden. Whichever euphemism you choose to employ will not hide the plain and simple fact. Two people were killed by the gross negligence of reckless idiots who assembled a huge crowd late at night without any prior planning and co-ordination and contrary to the advice given to them.

There were all the tears in the world for the bride of one of the victims and for the other victim's widow and child because we are experts at after-the-event nausea. Yet a single stitch in time is just too much to fathom. And when it comes to finger pointing it's anyone but ourselves. Those responsible nebech have wives and kids, and they didn't mean it, they really meant well, consider the amount of chesed they've done in their lives and all the other excuses we so expertly produce for those rare occasions when our denials are too much even for ourselves.

So it comes as no surprise that here too our response was as if on cue. In its report on page 39, Hamodia published a photo not of the boys or the RNLI but of a Shomrim squaddie who seem to have moved on from nabbing muggers in Stamford Hill to coastguard rescue in Dover. It was left to the Hackney Gazette to ask the obvious question of how it was allowed to happen because to our newspapers the boys, sorry the bochurim, had simply 'got lost'. Lost, that is, despite 9 signs telling them not to do exactly what they went and did. As a friend said to me in shul, our community is like the person to whom a 'wet paint' sign is an invitation to poke a finger.

After all, where's the wisdom and ingenuity in following the well-worn path? Follow the tracks of the sheep, is a figurative exhortation to dress in yeshive-wear while out trekking but as for any practical application, well we just don't do the literal stuff. Rules are there to be broken and signs to be ignored. And our newspapers are there not as a fourth estate but to cover up for the other estates. They're there to admonish us for talking loshon hore and during chazoras hashatz but not for trifling matters like saving lives. That would fall into the category of rubbish recycling, gardening and other veiberishe zachn which real heimishe guys don't engage in. So the front-page headline was reserved for the 'UK' anti-education demo which in reality was nothing more than a morning off for Stamford Hill kiddies who were unlucky enough, or very lucky depending on your point of view, not to be taken to Dover for the day.

And lest I forget there was the reaction of the PR firm. The same Shimon Cohen who popped up in the aftermath of the Scottish misadventure 12 years ago showed his face yet again. In both incidents an 'investigation' was promised though this time 'parents' also made an heroic £5,000 donation. These are the same 'parents' who if not for the providence of mobile phones would presumably be donating to the defence fund of whoever was accused of whatever might have befallen the boys. Now add, chas v'cholilo, and chas v'sholem, and 'you mustn't say that' but still do nothing practical and hold no one to account. If I were one of the supposedly investigated I wouldn't lose a minute's sleep unless some outside body decides to poke its nose into our affairs and in which case expect a yom tefilo linked to an urgent fundraising drive.

But for now life goes back to normal. Boruch Hashem for the great miracle that nothing happened. The closer the shave with death the greater the ness and so all the more reason to be grateful for the Chasdei Hashem. Never mind that we have had several drownings in the last few years, all of which were the result of entering the water at unauthorised spots and at inadvisable times. Never mind that there was a drowning in Miami a few weeks ago where some chasidim took a dip close to signs warning of riptides. If you hold demos not to have to study geography how on earth will you discover what a tide is. The sea is dangerous, we know that, and if we survive it we have Hoidi on Friday evenings to thank for the miracles towards sea dwellers. And if we don't survive it well then it's a reminder that we must repent and show more respect to our gedoilim and dress tzniusdig and be grateful to Shomrim for averting an even greater disaster. Omein.


  1. I will never forget the time I climbed Snowdon with some of my children.

    We came to a crosswords and met some Stamford Hillies dressed in the traditional way. They asked me the correct path. I pointed to the correct path.

    "How do you know?" they asked
    "Because that is the way they are all going..."
    "Ach, what does a goy know...."

    That was only matched by the tippexed graffiti on that stone thing they have on top of the summit "Rivki was here". To be fair, it was very small writing. It was still there the following year.

  2. CV it was Ricki but got a bit smudged :-)

  3. Ricki (or Rikki) is also a Jewish name.

  4. Practical advice for schools (etc.) on school trips:

  5. Headmaster: Well now, Mr. Perkins. It was good of you to come in. I realise that you're a busy man, but I didn't think this matter could be discussed over the electric telephone.

    Mr Perkins: No. No, absolutely, Headmaster, I mean, if Tommy is in some sort of trouble, then I'd like to nip it in the bud.

    Headmaster: Well, quite frankly, Tommy is in trouble. Recently his behaviour has left a great deal to be desired.

    Mr Perkins: Oh Dear.

    Headmaster: He seems to take no interest in school life whatsoever. He refuses to muck in at the sports field. And it's weeks since any master has received any written work from him.

    Mr Perkins: Oh, dear me.

    Headmaster: Quite frankly, Mr Perkins, if he wasn't dead, I'd have him expelled.

    Mr Perkins: I beg your pardon?

    Headmaster: Yes, EXPELLED! If I wasn't making allowances for the fact that your son is dead, he'd be out on his ear!

    Mr Perkins: You mean he's dead?

    Headmaster: Yes... He's lying up there in sick bay now, stiff as a board and bright green, and this is, I fear, typical of his current attitude. You see, the boy has no sense of moderation: one moment he's flying around like a paper kite, and the next moment he's completely immovable. And beginning to smell.

    Mr Perkins: Well, how did he die?!

    Headmaster: Well, is that important?

    Mr Perkins: Why, yes, I think so!

    Headmaster: Well... Well... Well, it's all got to do with the library, you see. We've had a lot of trouble recently with boys taking out library books without library cards. Your son was caught, and I administered a beating, during which he died. But you'll be glad to know... You'll be glad to know that the ringleader was caught, so I don't think we'll be having any trouble with library discipline. You see, the library card system...

    Mr Perkins: I'm sorry...

    Headmaster: ...was...

    Mr Perkins: You beat my son to death?

    Headmaster: Yes, yes, so it would seem. Please, I'm not used to being interrupted. You see, the library card system was introduced...

    Mr Perkins: Well, exactly what happened?

    Headmaster: Well, apparently, boys were just slipping into the library and taking the books!

    Mr Perkins: No, during the beating!

    Headmaster: Oh, that? Well...well, one moment he was bending over, the next moment he was lying down, I mean, er...

    Mr Perkins: Dead?

    Headmaster: Mmm... deadish! ... Mr.Perkins, I find this morbid fascination with your son's death quite disturbing. What I'm talking about is his attitude! And quite frankly, I can see where he gets it from.

    Mr Perkins: Well, it wasn't me that beat my son to death!

    Headmaster: Well, that was perfectly obvious to me from the first day he arrived here. I wondered then, as I wonder now, if he might not have turned out a very different boy indeed if you had administrated a few fatal beatings earlier.

    Mr Perkins: Are you mad!?

    Headmaster: I'm FURIOUS! In order to accommodate the funeral, I had to cancel afternoon school on Wednesday!

    Mr Perkins: This is preposterous!

    Headmaster: Yes, it is. Or at least, it would be...if it were true.

    Mr Perkins: ...What?

    Headmaster: I've been joking, Mr Perkins. Pardon me, it's my strange academic sense of humour. I've been pulling your leg.

    Mr Perkins: Oh, thank God!

    Headmaster: I wouldn't cancel afternoon school to bury that little ****!


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