Orthodox youth not immune to high-risk lifestyles

A few weeks ago, Joel Bess gathered his group of 15 teenage boys and took them to the funeral of a 21-year-old who had died of an overdose. Like the teenagers, the youth who died was Orthodox and didn’t fit the yeshiva mold and wound up on a path of high-risk behavior.
After the funeral, Bess — the son of a prominent rabbi who spent his teenage years and beyond in a whirl of self-destruction — asked the boys to write their own epitaphs on pictures of blank tombstones.
“I wanted them to think about how people would remember them and what they would say about their lives,” said Bess, who is now 29, a father of three and has a strong relationship with his own father.
Bess knows how hard it is not to fit in, to fall and then to muster the strength to move toward health of body and soul.
“Almost all my friends ended up dead or in jail, and I’m trying to prevent that with these kids,” he said.
He has been meeting weekly with the boys for about nine months through Issues Anonymous, a group he helped found.

My son, the plumber. Amen.

On a hot abandoned Granada Hills playground surrounded by waves of wheat-colored brush, Rabbi Mayer Schmukler looks around and sees the future. Rather than the overgrown jungle gym and dusty rows of red Little Tikes cars at the site that once was the North Valley JCC, he sees a soccer field, a refurbished pool, maybe tennis courts behind the new dorm buildings.
Last year, Schmukler, a Chabad-trained rabbi, brought 15 boys to this eight-acre site to pilot JETS — Jewish Education Trade School. This year he’s got 35 boys praying, studying Torah and training to be carpenters, plumbers, chefs and elevator repairmen.
Schmukler is keenly aware that a Jewish vocational school faces some deeply ingrained prejudices.
“Everyone feels that if a Jewish kid has to become a plumber it’s a sad situation, that really he should be a lawyer or an accountant, or a rabbi,” Schmukler says.
But some kids aren’t cut out for academic rigor. Leaving them in a mismatched environment often leads them toward self-destructive paths to failure.
“We take kids that maybe have low self- esteem and show them they are good at something — or we make them good at something — and show them they can make it in this society,” said Schmukler with a smile that never leaves his eyes or his mouth, hidden though it is in his untamed beard.
JETS doesn’t take the most hard-core cases. Boys have to be drug-free for 12 months to get into the program, and there is mandatory drug testing every two weeks.
But some of his kids come from broken homes, or have emotional, learning or behavioral challenges. Most of them live on campus in classrooms converted into dorms.
JETS, an independent nonprofit, employs teachers, social workers, dorm counselors and a psychologist. Students get personal counseling, and classes in ethics and time management and organization as well as high-school equivalency preparatory classes.
It was the combination of industry and ethics that won Schmukler a California Regional Consortium for Engineering Advances in Technological Education grant and award from the National Science Foundation in May 2006.
Most of the trade classes are offered at College of the Canyons, an accredited community college in Santa Clarita that provides work force training.
Last year, the boys built a skateboarding ramp. This year, they’re building a house, from computer modeling to reading the blueprints to carpentry, plumbing, electricity and the finishings.
Some of the classes, such as cooking, take place at JETS. The school is building a state-of-the-art kosher kitchen, and hopes to open a kosher culinary school to the public.
On Shabbats when they stay in, boys prepare meals for each other. They have also taken trips to the Grand Canyon and Northern California.
Schmukler’s approach to discipline is to help the boys self-motivate. Smoking, for instance, is not prohibited. But boys can only smoke alone, and only in designated spots that might be a half-acre from the action. There is no wake up call in the morning — boys need alarm clocks to rouse themselves. Free time is scheduled up with classes in kickboxing or karate, and a whole set of bikes and the old JCC gym facilities are available to the guys.
Schmukler has bigger plans for the campus, and he is a strong fundraiser. He worked for years as the development director for Chabad’s Russian program, where he first set up teen centers in West Hollywood. JETS has an annual budget of about $1 million, and Schmukler works his connections well. He’s already raised $5 million for the purchase of the campus and got an adjacent parcel donated.
Schmukler is also giving space to the JCC for offices and some programming, and is working out further arrangements with them. He says he wants JETS to be a center for Jewish unity, especially because no one can forget the 1999 rampage by Buford O. Furrow, who wounded five people at this JCC and then killed postal worker Joseph Ileto.
“Because of that I really believe something positive has to come from here,” Schmukler says. “Judaism is positive, and if you open up with something positive, we’ve won.”
For more information, visit www.jetsschool.org or call (323) 228-5905.


Issue Anonymous is one of several new programs that have emerged in the last few years to serve the Orthodox community, giving kids, their parents and local high schools more resources and options than have ever been available in Los Angeles.
At Issues Anonymous, the boys can express themselves freely — which they did on the blank tombstones.
“To our beloved son, we loved you and we wish we could have been there for you,” one of them wrote.
“He died on the road to recovery. He meant well and he tried hard. Had he lived longer he would have made some big differences. He will be missed by the select few that he touched.”
“We loved you, and we will miss you. You were a good friend, son and brother. You really were nice and smart.”
And then simply, “I hope I rest in peace.”
For these youths, the introspection and repentance of Yom Kippur is a full time, ongoing pursuit.
For nearly two decades, it has been an open secret in the Los Angeles Orthodox community that some kids are turned off by religious observance and high academic standards, and they end up turning to truancy, alcohol, unsafe sex or drugs.
Once on that path, many of the boys feel let down or pushed out by their schools, families or both. They feel hated by the community, and especially lost because they don’t feel they belong anywhere else. They call themselves screw-ups, and worse.
Some of them take a high school equivalency exam — or not — and get sent off to Israel or to yeshivas outside of Los Angeles. Some land in rehab, in jail, on the streets — or dead.
They are Sephardic, Ashekenazic and Persian. Their families are Chasidic and Modern Orthodox.
And to those who know them well, they are loveable boys who just need someone to believe in them.
“I think the community needs to embrace these kids with love,” says Debbie Fox, director of Jewish Family Service’s Aleinu Family Resource Center, who brought Bess in to start Issues Anonymous when four mothers approached her looking for help.
“I know that people are afraid that the kids will influence others. But that doesn’t mean we don’t create a place for them,” she said. “It means we need to look at how to balance things and how to do things safely and acknowledge that they are part of our community. We cannot sacrifice these kids — and they’re really beautiful kids.”
Los Angeles’ Orthodox community now offers some organized solutions for these boys — though none have been put forth for girls, even while most observers agree that, too, is needed.
The Jewish Educational Trade School (JETS), a vocational boarding school for boys who weren’t cut out for the academic rigor of yeshiva, started meeting last year at the North Valley Jewish Community Center. This year 35 boys spend part of each school day studying Torah and high school equivalency, and part of their day learning trades, such as elevator or air conditioning repair, or construction.
But JETS doesn’t take in the hard-core boys. Students have to have been drug-free for at least a year, and they are tested regularly.
Boys who are currently using drugs are welcome at Issues Anon and Aish Tamid, an organization Rabbi Avi Leibovic founded six years ago to provide a welcoming environment and support services.
Leibovic’s latest venture is Pardes/Plan B, a program that combines Torah study, outdoor adventure, counseling and high-school equivalency preparation. The program started in mid-September and, so far, the reports are positive.

Pardes: School, But Not
Pardes meets at Congregation Shaarei Tefila on Beverly Boulevard, where the boys pray every morning. Then they go out on a trip — hiking, bowling, boating — all the while imbibing bits of wisdom from their teacher, Rabbi Ari Guidry, and a social worker who has had years of experience with this population in New York.

“The rabbi is awesome,” says Aharon (boys names have been changed to protect their privacy). “He’s not like a typical rabbi. He knows how to treat us — like the humans that we are.”
Aharon has always been a good student and hopes to go to college; he is excited about the academic subjects being taught by End Result, an organization with great success in running classes in juvenile detention centers.

Aharon’s mother is glad he chose Pardes.

“Pardes is not going to be top-notch academic experience, but for me it is much more important that his soul is intact,” she said. “I believe that this year he can work on himself; he can set his own spiritual compass to know in which direction he needs to go to find true happiness in life.”

She is one of the mothers who approached Fox last year to start Issues Anon, after she realized that Aharon was doing drugs, taking the car out in the middle of the night when he was 14 or 15, and messing up in school.

“Anything I tried to do in terms of controlling him and where he was going and what he was doing didn’t work,” said Aharon’s mother, who also attends a parent support group offered by Aish Tamid.

Leibovic, a 33-year-old YULA graduate who can personally relate to what these kids are going through, was one of the first in Los Angeles to try to organize programs for this population. He started with post-high school young men and then expanded to the younger set.

Aish Tamid has Shabbat programs, career fairs, study groups and the popular Teen at the Bean, a weekly discussion and study session at the Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf on Beverly Boulevard.

Mostly, Leibovic, a father of six and a full-time attorney, has made himself and a growing staff of social workers and counselors available to the boys and their parents at all hours, giving individualized guidance about everything from rehab centers to family therapy to finding employment.

Leibovic is still trying to find funding for Pardes. Young men who have been through Aish Tamid programs donated a van worth $22,000. Pardes only has enrolled a half-dozen students.
Leibovic is hoping eventually to fill the van with 13 kids. He said he knows of about 10 kids in need who aren’t in any program, but are still holding out to get into one of the local yeshivas, which historically haven’t dealt well with these kids.

“There is no way that any one school can cater to all of the students we have in our community,” said Rabbi Avrohom Stulberger, dean of Valley Torah High School. “A school’s job is to be as broad as possible and needs to see themselves as embracing and accommodating as they can be. But as good as a school can be, there is no way we can do it all.”

While high school principals are grateful for programs like Pardes and JETS, they know there is work to do in making such programs acceptable to the boys and their families.

“I think there is still a stigma in the eyes of the children about going to these schools,” said Rabbi Dovid Landesman, principal of YULA. “We have to work on the psychology to make kids accept that these schools are more suited to their needs, because I really think both of these schools [Pardes and JETS] are a bracha to the community.”

Issues Anon: Steak and Free Expression

Yossi has managed to stay at YULA through his senior year, with an inclusion aid to help him through Attention Deficit Disorder. He started smoking marijuana at summer camp after 10th grade, and then he started popping his dad’s Atavan and Valium.

“I really messed up my whole 11th grade year, but I was on drugs so I didn’t care,” he says.
He fights with his father, but has a close relationship with his mother. She got him into rehab, which allowed him to stay in school. Yossi’s been clean 90 days.

He attributes much of his success to Issues Anon, the Jewish Family Service Wednesday night group that Joel Bess runs with social worker Howie Shapiro.

“This is the one thing I look forward to every week, and it’s really helped me a lot,” says Yossi, at a recent dinner at La Gondola.

The boys were there to celebrate milestones — some had just started school, some were chalking up months of sobriety, some were just happy to still be getting up in the morning. (All of them were grateful for the glistening heaps of ribs and giant sized steaks on their plates.)

Some of the boys wear kippahs and some don’t, some have spiky coifs or buzz cuts, and several of them sport large Jewish stars around their necks and pants sagging well below their hips.
Regular meetings start with the boys jotting down an issue, all of which are then read aloud, without revealing the source, and discussed. The guys give each other advice about how to get through their issues.

Tonight, many of them note their sobriety counts — a year and half, 90 days, two months — “and I better start feeling some of those changes promised,” one of them quips to Bess.
“I threw out all of my stuff two weeks ago,” another announces, to the applause of the group.
“Damn, you should have given it to me,” another jokes.

“My mom kicked me out again,” a boy says quietly.

“Cool! Are you sleeping at my house tonight?” his friend asks hopefully.

Behind the jokes, the cursing and goofing off, the kids are there for each other.
“If you see these kids sitting in the back of the classroom goofing off, you get one impression,” says Shapiro, the social worker. “But when you hear them talking about what they don’t get from their parents or how they fell through the cracks, it’s really amazing the depth with which they can describe what they are feeling and what they need. But the school administration and the parents don’t see that depth. They just see the GPA and the drug use.”

The kids in the group have become close friends and relate easily to Bess, who runs a division of an infomercial company and has a hip style the kids are comfortable with. They call him or knock on his door at all hours, and he welcomes them.

“I feel like I can do things now. Before I wasn’t able to do anything,” says Zev, who has been clean for a year and half and is being schooled at a private home in the valley.
Zev is one of many siblings from a Chasidic home. He has an abusive father and a supportive mother. When he was only 9 or 10 years old, he got his first taste of weed in shul on Simchat Torah.

He’s 15 now but looks a lot older, with a scraggly beard, big eyes that hold your gaze, and a quiet voice.
He is a leader — several boys say it was Zev who got them started on drugs. Now, at Issues Anon meetings, they turn to him for support in staying sober. And it was Zev who instituted the idea of starting each meeting with gratitude — going around and saying something positive about your week, or your life.
Tonight, Yossi is proud of 90 days sober. And like the other boys around the table, his goals are basic.

“I just don’t want to f*** up anymore,” Yossi says. “I want to get my life together and to be able to go through stuff without relapsing. I just want to be able to function like a normal person.”

www.aishtamid.org (323) 634-0505
www.jfsla.org/aleinu (323) 761-8816

Orthodox Parents Create Special-Needs Camp


When the Los Angeles Unified School District broke for the recent winter vacation, a group of nine 10-year-old boys gathered in the Jewish Educational Movement in Beverly Hills for a mid-winter camp called, Kol Hanearim (“all the children”). The public school students were primarily from observant homes, and all have been diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder (ADD) or Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder (ADHD).

Marcia Lichtig and Rivky Raichik, two mothers who were frustrated at both the lack of educational infrastructure in the Los Angeles Jewish community for children with special needs, and that their ADD/ADHD children spent most of their lives in a non-Jewish environment, organized the camp. They raised $8,000 and brought in four counselors from the East Coast who were trained in mainstreaming special-needs children into Jewish schools — a system developed by Rabbi Yitzi Goldberg (one of the counselors) of KAHAL in Far Rockaway, N.Y.

“We want our kids to be Orthodox and have an Orthodox chevra (group of friends),” said Lichtig, whose son, Seth, has ADHD and currently attends the Julianne Singer School. “I have no idea where Seth will go to high school. I don’t want to put him in a [public] school because I am afraid he will become irreligious and that would destroy our family life.”

The camp had the usual array of activities — baseball, arts and crafts projects like making tzitzit, and discussion groups — as well as a competition system where the boys can accumulate points and receive rewards for good behavior. But the behavior that was point-worthy might have gone unnoticed at any other camp. If someone knocked on the door and interrupted the group, and the boys didn’t get distracted, they received 10 points for “good ignoring.” If a boy hit the ball and ran to first base during a baseball game, he received 10 points for “good compliance.” If a boy answered a question his counselor asked, and thus contributed to the group discussion, he received 10 points for “good contributing.” And, at the end of the day, it wasn’t the boy with the most points who won the prize, but any boy who received more points than he had accumulated the day before.

“[Our philosophy] is based on the fact that ADD and ADHD children are impulsive, they don’t have a good memory, and they don’t really recognize the behavior that they are doing,” said Jonathan Feintuch, one of the counselors at the camp, who is pursuing a master’s in social work at Yeshiva University. “We hold a mirror up to them [so to speak] and express what they are doing, and that helps them to recognize their behaviors. They end up learning what behaviors are positive and what behaviors are negative.”

Now Raichik and Lichtig are trying to raise $250,000 for a permanent program in one of the Los Angeles day schools based on those principles.

“It’s time for Los Angeles to do something,” said Raichik’s husband, Rabbi Yankee, whose son, Mendel, is also in the Julianne Singer School. “This is not a small town anymore, and I want my child to be in a Jewish environment.”

For more information on the program, call Rivky Raichik at (323) 447-7450.


ADD, ADHD — Life in the Fast Lane

School is out and Ashley is breathless, begging to go to Disneyland. "Leora has ADD so she gets a special pass that allows her to skip all the lines," she says. "And she can bring her friends and they can skip all the lines, too!"

A call to the Happiest Place on Earth confirms it. Those with attention-deficit disorder (ADD) can use the "disabled fast lane" with a Special Assistance Pass — no medical documentation required and five friends can join in. Knott’s Berry Farm has a similar policy, but proof is needed and only three friends may come along.

How did we get here? And how did we get to bring so many friends with us?

Two forces in our culture are at odds here — the desire to respectfully accommodate differences, and the ease with which we claim victimhood for ourselves and for our children.

A close reading of Title III of the Americans with Disabilities Act reveals the secret: All are entitled to enjoy the full range of goods, services, privileges and advantages offered in public accommodations (parks and museums). No discrimination is allowed against individuals or "those they have a relationship or association with" (Ashley plus five).

The definition of disability includes those with nonvisible disabilities, including psychiatric conditions such as attention-deficit (hyperactivity) disorder (ADHD).

Visit a disabilities advocacy Web site and read the postings of people describing both the physical pain and humiliation caused by visits to nonaccommodating amusement parks. It’s clear that laws protecting their rights are enlightened and compassionate. As a clinical psychologist, I know that ADD is real, that many children suffer from neurologically based problems of concentration and hyperactivity. I’ve also had a fair number of adults in my practice who suffered from lifelong undiagnosed and untreated learning and attention impairments that deeply affected their self-esteem and adult achievement.

But I also know that ADD is becoming the disability of choice for parents who want to smooth the path and help their children take advantage of every loophole, ethical or not. The advanced diagnostic techniques developed by psychology are being perverted.

For older children there are eveb more alluring opportunities to take advantage of than a day at Disneyland. Starting this September, untimed SATs will no longer be flagged. In the past, when disabled test-takers were given extra time, a notation was included in the transcript. No longer; this practice discriminates. In order to protect the rights of students with disabilities like ADD or anxiety disorders, the College Board, which owns the SAT, will no longer indicate in its official records that a student has been given extra time.

And where are the highest numbers of requests for untimed SATs coming from? Not surprisingly, they are coming from the wealthiest progressive private high schools and the wealthiest communities. They are coming from public schools where extra time is available without penalty to any child with the right diagnosis. They are coming from parents looking for a competitive edge.

What’s going to happen when these students get to Princeton and need special services? Are they just going to show up at the offices of the disability support staff and whisper, "Surprise!"?

What are we — loving, ambitious, good-intentioned parents — unwittingly teaching our children? We are teaching them to believe in their own helplessness. Remember when we used to say, "Josh has ADD"? Now we say, "Josh is ADD." What happened to the rest of him? He’s disappeared.

If you have a child with symptoms of ADD you can help her without inadvertently undermining her self-confidence and sense of personal and community responsibility. Start by reading anything by Edward M. Hallowell, author of the classic, "Driven To Distraction: Recognizing and Coping with Attention Deficit Disorder from Childhood Through Adulthood" (Touchstone, 1995) or by the brilliant developmental pediatrician, Mel Levine, author of "The Myth of Laziness" (Simon & Schuster, 2002). If you’re getting a learning-disabled child ready for a bar or bat mitzvah, make sure your synagogue has a copy of Al Pi Darco "According To Their Ways," a special-needs educational resource manual published by the Reform movement’s UAHC Press.

If you are considering medication:

  • Don’t rely on your own intuition and the prescription pad of your "glad to be of help" pediatrician. Get a formal evaluation by a psychologist specializing in testing children, and have the medication supervised by a child psychiatrist.

  • Meet with your child’s teacher at the start of the school year so you can work together, coordinating expectations at home and at school.

  • Don’t let the blind lead the blind: Since many children with ADD have a parent with a similar condition, put the more organized and focused parent in charge of homework supervision, planning and other "executive skills."

I can’t imagine many people are exploiting the disabled fast lane at Disneyland, but the use of untimed SATs is on the rise. And if we take advantage of laws intended to repair the world, we are teaching our children corruption.

Wendy Mogel is the author of “The Blessing of a Skinned Knee.” She is a clinical psychologist in Los Angeles.