Ashreinu Mah Tov Chelkeinu...

I love this place. When I find the time to sit down, kick back, and truly contemplate what YU is and what it means to me, the depth of my feelings is sometimes astonishing. Having spent the last four years in one capacity or another connected to this institution, I have seen the good, the bad, and the really ugly (anyone remember the old caf?). Only now can I begin to appreciate the unique qualities that make this school what it really is.

Yeah, so sometimes we resemble a dysfunctional family on the road trip from hell. Like little children bickering in the back seat of a car, students argue with faculty, faculty with administration, rabbis argue with other rabbis, and everyone takes pot shots at President Lamm, who plays the role of benevolent daddy from the driver’s seat up on the fifth floor of Furst Hall. And like any father, sometimes he ignores the squabbles in the back seat, choosing instead to concentrate on the road, and sometimes he turns around and threatens to take action and discipline his unruly kids.

But that’s okay. In fact, I think our disagreements are the finest aspect of this institution. And if no one has any idea when this trip ends and everyone has their own idea of what the final destination is, I can handle that as well.

There was a recent case in the news concerning a Catholic elementary school terminating a popular fifth-grade teacher. Her crime? She was divorced, and had remarried without securing an annulment of her previous marriage as per the orthodox doctrine of the Church. Therefore, the school saw her as unfit to educate its pupils even though by all accounts she was a master at her craft and an asset to the school. In the same vein, Notre Dame University recently forced out an acclaimed vocal preacher over perceived doctrinal differences.

Fortunate our we, that here in YU this is not our reality. Faculty and administration can be any denomination they choose, and a dean can profess to be nominally orthodox even though everyone knows otherwise. Rabbanim in the beit midrash are free to rail against various policies espoused by the school and its president, and from the other side, so are rabbis teaching in Midtown. Rav Kahn and Professor Lee can debate the purpose of YU back and forth in the pages of the Commie, each vehemently disagreeing with the other and attempting to sway students to their respective points of view, while the students themselves can choose any side of an issue without the fear of coercion.

This school is one big level playing field, and I love watching the game. Not only can I observe and heckle, but I can actively participate in the action and attempt to help my team (or whatever issue I identify with at the moment) advance further down field towards its goaline. Nor am I restricted to just one game. At any given moment this place resembles satellite television on a Sunday morning -- hundreds of channels and I can surf them all. All the dissension and debate, the late night arguments and impassioned speeches, the faculty rantings and rabbinic shmoozes, make me a better student, a better human being, and ultimately, a better Jew.

U’Mah Na’im Goraleinu...

People complain that YU is a homogeneous mass of indistinguishable fools. Granted, we are all Jewish males, many of us from similar socio-economic backgrounds. (My apologies to the women downtown.) And yes, sometimes it appears as if every person rolling down Amsterdam Avenue woke up and put on the same pair of khakis and plaid shirt. Yet there exists a sweet diversity within our student body that is unique to YU, and an asset for all who study here. Case in point: I just discovered yet another ethnic sub- group in the polyglot mosaic that is our student body - yiddish speaking Carpathians. Add them to the mix with the Russian Mafia, Syrian boatboys, wiseguy New Yorkers, Five Towns Yuppies, out-of-town hicks, and the bathrobe-wearing dudes on the eighth floor of Morg, and you get quite a bunch. Realizing that we are all talmidim of the same yeshiva and students of the same university is a humbling and edifying experience. This diversity extends to the faculty as well. Theist philosophers, atheistic historians, accounting ethicists, biblical theoreticians, the list goes on and on. Our rabbis span the spectrum of Orthodoxy, and according to some, beyond it. They may not ever agree on things (after all, they are rabbis) but each has a viewpoint I can benefit and learn from if I take the time to listen. The administrators and deans can be infuriating and exasperatingly obstinate, but they can be amazingly helpful and educating when they choose. Even the staff, such as security guards, secretaries, facilities workers and librarians have enriched my time on campus, and I feel grateful for being able to interact with them all.

U’Mah Yafah Yerushateinu...