Highlighting: “Because He Cared: The Life and Impact of Rabbi Moshe Neuman, Beloved Principal of Bais Yaakov of Queens,” by Rabbi Yechiel Spero. Artscroll Mesorah Publications Ltd. 2024. Hardcover.
444 pages. ISBN-13: 978-1422641712.

(Courtesy of Artscroll) One day while learning in Chaim Berlin, Moshe received a message that the rosh yeshivah, Rav Hutner, wished to speak to him.

“Moishe (as he called him), I need a favor from you.”

“Hineni,” was the respectful reply. “Whatever the rosh yeshivah wants.”

“The eighth-grade rebbi is sick and has to be out for the next two weeks,” Rav Hutner explained. “I want you to substitute for him. But please be aware that the class is difficult.”

The young and unmarried Moshe was taken aback. He had not expected this. But the rosh yeshivah was not backing down, and he had already committed to do whatever the rosh yeshivah asked.

Without any teacher training or curriculum, Moshe walked into the classroom and took his place on the other side of the desk.

His chinuch career was launched.

But when he first walked into the room, no one paid attention. The boys were talking among themselves, until one of them finally looked in his direction.

The boy didn’t pull any punches. “We don’t want to learn.”

With that proclamation, he turned back to his friends, once again ignoring the new teacher in the front of the room.

Moshe knew he had to think out of the box. He decided that straight talk was the best and perhaps the only way to go about it. “Listen, fellas, the rosh yeshivah sent me here for the next two weeks to teach you. Has anyone ever heard of the phrase, ‘Chatzi laShem v’chatzi lachem’?”

One or two of the boys answered that it had something to do with splitting Yom Tov: half of it for spiritual pursuits, like learning and praying; and the other half for physical pleasure, like eating and sleeping.

“Correct,” Moshe answered, “so here’s the deal. We’re gonna learn for the next two hours and when we’re done, we’re gonna go to the playground on Pitkin Avenue and play some basketball.”

This caught their attention. They were intrigued. But one boy asked, “How are we going to get out of the building without being stopped by the principal?”

As if he were one of the boys, Moshe responded, “Don’t worry, I’ve got it all figured out. There’s a fire escape right near this classroom and we’re going to sneak out quietly. You’ll see, we won’t get caught.”

Partners in crime they would be, the rebbi and talmidim.

They started to learn.

And a rebbi was born.

As always, Rabbi Neuman would deflect the praise when telling the story: “They were good boys. We started to learn and one asked a good question. I showed him that Tosafos asks the same question. And then another made a comment that was found in the Maharsha. They seemed to enjoy the learning. Sure enough, at the two-hour mark, as I’d promised, I closed my Gemara and told them to follow me.”

Then the planned escape began. Together, they slipped out of the building and made their way over to Pitkin Avenue, where they had a great time with their new rebbi. Then again, how much older was he than they? After two hours of play, he told them how to sneak back into the building for lunch. “You will go two by two, just like in the teivah. No one will notice a thing.” The plan worked.

The following day, they followed the same routine. Half of the time they learned, and half of the time they played. “Chatzi laShem v’chatzi lachem.”

But on day three, Moshe told them, “Listen, fellas. ‘Chatzi lachem’ is not for every day of the year. It’s only for Yom Tov. So today we’re going to adjust it a little bit. Two-thirds of the day we will learn, and the last hour, we’ll have fun and we’ll play. I promise that’s the way it will stay.”

They didn’t say a word; they trusted him. They had also already experienced the joy of learning. So for the next two weeks, that’s the way it was.

Moshe Neuman was a huge success, to say the least.

On his first Thursday on the job, Moshe invited “his” eighth-graders to come and learn with him during mishmar, to ask questions on what they had learned during the week. This was well before extracurricular learning programs were popular in schools. Nevertheless, a number of them came.

After two weeks, the regular rebbi returned and Moshe Neuman went back to his seat in the beis midrash.

A few days later, he received another message — Rav Hutner wanted to speak to him.

“Moishe, I hear that you learned with the eighth-graders, and they even came to learn with you during mishmar. What did you do? Hust zei farkisheft? Did you perform some sort of magic? Did you hypnotize them? Tell me everything. I want to know how you did it.”

At first, Moshe demurred. He didn’t want to tell the rosh yeshivah what he had done. He was afraid he would get into trouble for his unconventional teaching methods. Sensing his hesitation, Rav Hutner ordered him, “Moishe, zug! Hub nisht kein moira. Moishe, tell me! Don’t be afraid!” Then he added, “You are not in trouble. I want to know!”

Moshe told his rebbi the entire story, not leaving out one detail. After listening in silence, Rav Hutner started to laugh. But then he turned serious as he shared what would become the foundation of Rabbi Moshe Neuman’s chinuch approach. “Moishe, Moishe, America is America. Nisht Slabodka, nisht Kletzk, nisht Mir, uhn nisht Telshe. Not Slabodka, not Kletzk, not Mir, and not Telshe. It works with basketball and Pitkin Avenue and that’s how you will get them. Remember that.”

Before dismissing him, Rav Hutner made another suggestion. He wanted Moshe to learn for semichah.

“But I want to become a lawyer,” Moshe protested. Rav Hutner paid no attention.

When Moshe repeated the conversation to his father, he looked at Moshe and said, “You know, I never make demands of you when it comes to this kind of thing. But I always had a secret dream that one day you would become a rabbi. After all, Hashem saved us… for what?”

The next morning, Moshe enrolled in the Chullin and Yoreh Deah chaburos in the yeshivah. Rav Hutner recommended a chavrusa, and he and Moshe began to cover ground. At the beginning of the summer, Rav Hutner suggested that the two of them go upstate to Camp Morris and continue their chavrusashaft there. But Moshe hesitated. “I don’t have any money for camp.”

“Hub ich dihr gebetten gelt? Did I ask you for money? I want you to go and learn there with menuchas hanefesh, with peace of mind, and appreciate the break from the city.”

Another timeless lesson learned, one Moshe would incorporate into his life and his approach to chinuch. Money would never play a role in his giving and caring for children. If the child needed it, he would find a way to make it work. And he would never forget the encouragement and boost of confidence his rebbi gave him.

Moshe received semichaH from Rav Nissen Telushkin (rav of Bnai Yitzchak Nusach Ari on Georgia Avenue in East New York, author of a two-volume sefer on mikvaos titled “Taharas Mayim,”and a gadol baTorah), as well as from Rav Hutner himself.

* Reprinted from “Because He Cared” by Rabbi Yechiel Spero with permission from the copyright holder, ArtScroll Mesorah Publications.