I’ve taught in multiple schools, and as much as they’ve all been Orthodox high schools, there are significant differences between them. One of those differences revolves around the relationship between the faculties teaching Jewish and general studies. Even the terminology is different—are they general studies, secular studies, college preparatory studies, or something else altogether? As far as the relationships go, they are often unequal. In certain schools, it was clear that the general studies faculty were accorded higher status, whether because they had more professional training or because their subjects were considered more important. When there were scheduling conflicts or special programs, they usually came at the expense of the Jewish studies teachers and their classes. In other schools, the tables were turned. Jewish studies were considered primary so the general studies teachers had to deal with diminished status and the need to accommodate. (I won’t even begin to discuss how this affected student attitudes, classroom discipline, and so much more.)

That doesn’t mean that the teachers weren’t friendly. Cordial and collegial relationships certainly existed, but the unspoken hierarchy hung over those relationships.

In one particular school, I befriended a veteran English teacher (non-Orthodox) at least 25 years my senior. She saw me struggling with the crossword puzzle and offered her help. We became crossword buddies (I sometimes helped her too) and soon discovered that we were teaching parallel skills in our classes. While I had only a sparse background in English literature, I was teaching my students skills of literary analysis in my Humash class, many of them overlapping with some of the same skills she was teaching in English literature. She was teaching her students how to compose essays, and I was trying to do similar work in getting my students to document their analysis of Biblical texts. We never formally collaborated but we did occasionally compare notes, and we once even tried some impromptu team teaching.

While the experience for us was fun and mutually enlightening, for our students it was mind-expanding. They could never have imagined that the skills and content in two dramatically disparate subjects could actually dovetail and mutually reinforce one another, that religion and humanities could speak to each other, and that knowledge and ideas could be both particular and universal at the same time. 

I am reminded of this because I recently had the opportunity to work with a school on a process of curricular integration between Jewish studies and humanities. This sounds intimidating, but in our sessions, it turned out to be an extraordinary experience for the teachers. Using a simplified UbD framework, they each identified Essential Questions in their disciplines and then worked in teams to examine how they could reinforce and complement the other. Within a very short period of time (my workshop was the one thing that kept them from beginning their summer vacation) there was an extraordinary energy in the room, as the Jewish studies teachers and the humanities faculty began to learn with and from each other, appreciating each other’s strengths. Hierarchies dissipated as the teachers saw each other as valuable resources for accomplishing parallel and overlapping goals. 

The educational leaders of the school decided to devote all their PD hours toward this project—it became not just a curricular project, but one in which their teachers would grow immeasurably. For me, it was a reminder of the transformative power of authentic collaboration, and the teachers got to start their summer already reenergized.