In the 1950s and ’60s in Cleveland, Ohio, where I grew up, there was but one Orthodox day school, the Hebrew Academy. The school, of necessity, accommodated virtually all who wanted to attend. We were a somewhat self-sufficient community. We were blessed to have Telshe Yeshiva nearby, we had Frank’s Hebrew Bookstore, two kosher bakeries, several kosher butchers and even one kosher restaurant. But only one school—one size fits all. Again, one school that of necessity tried to accommodate all.

As young parents living in suburban Philadelphia, being proximate to New York City, we found that many resources not available locally were available in NYC. Regarding schools, our side of town had one school, the Torah Academy. Again, one size fits all. We had children of the most choshev roshei yeshiva and balebatim, and children whose parents’ affiliation was somewhat questionable. As a board member I recall that seemingly for every parent stressing, “Torah, Torah, Torah” there was one spouting, “Humanities is the soul of mankind.” I’m pleased to say we did not compromise on the former while we tried to accommodate all children, the public-school alternative being an anathema.

And then some 25 years ago my employer paid to move me to northern New Jersey. More schools than I can count, each with its own unique mission—variety, but not inclusion. Excluding the “special needs” schools, no school, it seems, sees an individual responsibility to all students—essentially, “If they don’t fit here, they can go elsewhere.” Sadly, we are elitist.

Although it’s not realistic to demand that schools change their “mission” or their admissions criteria, we should have an organized way for the community to step in. As a community we need to accept responsibility for all of our children, not only the exceptionally accomplished or those who “fit the mold,” but all of our children.

Finances, another important topic—to be left for later.