Living Our Values in Our Generation
Our parsha opens with a description of Noach that has kept commentators busy for centuries:
נֹחַ אִישׁ צַדִּיק תָּמִים הָיָה בְּדֹרֹתָיו
"Noach was a righteous man, wholehearted in his generations."
Why add "in his generations"?
Rashi brings two readings. In one, the phrase limits the praise: Noach was righteous only relative to his generation. The bar was low, and he looked good by contrast. In the other, the phrase heightens the praise: if Noach could be righteous in a generation that had turned so completely from goodness, imagine who he would have been among the righteous.
I'm drawn to the second reading. Why would the parsha open by diminishing Noach, and what would we learn from that? But if Noach was righteous against the grain of his time, there is a great deal to learn. It is easy to slip when the bar is lowered. When the surrounding culture drifts from its values, holding firm takes more effort, not less. Being an okay guy won't cut it. Noach had to be a tzaddik, reaching beyond the letter of the law, to withstand a world pulling the other way.
This is a deeply Jewish message, woven through our holidays, our stories, and the values we teach our children. We have to work hard to stay different when everyone around us is conforming, and not hide that difference, but celebrate it with pride. With antisemitism rising, I believe we must invest even more deeply in building Jewish pride in our children than was needed for my generation.
I see the same need in other cultural shifts. Compromise and respectful disagreement seem to have gone out of fashion, with public figures openly treating others without dignity. So as educators, we have to go deeper in building the skills of respectful debate, productive conflict, and kind words.
Another lowering bar is a value elementary education has long taken for granted: recognizing and celebrating diversity. When children see themselves in what they learn, they gain belonging and confidence; when they encounter lives different from their own, they develop empathy, curiosity, and the ability to connect across difference. Books, as educators often say, should be both mirrors and windows. Here too, when the bar drops, we lean in harder, teaching deliberately and joyfully the values the broader moment may be neglecting or even undermining.
Our classrooms juggle a great deal between Judaic and general studies, so we have looked for additional places where this learning can live naturally. One is our embrace of U.S. heritage months. Our libraries spotlight the heritage celebrated each month, and our art program develops multi-lesson projects inspired by those communities' artistic traditions, teaching both technique and the people behind the art. During Hispanic Heritage Month, one class created alebrijes, the brightly colored fantastical creatures of Mexican folk art. Another explored Guatemala's alfombras, intricate carpets of dyed sawdust, sand, and flowers that families lay in the streets of Antigua, knowing they will be walked over and swept away. A third painted self-portraits inspired by Frida Kahlo, whose vivid portraits are filled with symbols of her identity and heritage. And another made Mexican-inspired piñatas, a cherished part of Las Posadas celebrations.
We have also audited our classroom libraries to ensure children encounter characters from many heritages, including, specifically, diverse Jewish stories: Jews from many lands, ethnicities, and nationalities, with an emphasis on Sephardic and Mizrahi stories. Children learn most lastingly from what is close to home. When they appreciate the breadth of our own people, they are better equipped to appreciate it beyond our own tribe.
With Native American Heritage Month coming in November, here are two Jewish children's books at the meeting point of Jewish and Native American experience:
Yossel's Journey by Kathryn Lasky, illustrated by Navajo artist Johnson Yazzie, is a picture book about a Jewish boy who flees Tsarist Russia, settles at a trading post in New Mexico, and befriends a Navajo boy.
Two Tribes by Emily Bowen Cohen is a graphic novel for older students about Mia, the daughter of a Jewish mother and a Muscogee father, figuring out how both parts of her heritage fit together as her bat mitzvah approaches.
For more ideas year-round, see the Jewish Book Council's reading lists, including this wonderful list of Latin Jewish stories, and the New York Public Library's Spotlight page for each heritage month.
Like Noach, may we work even harder to live by our values precisely when the world makes them harder to hold.







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