There was a horror story in the news the other week. It was
a tale of a young boy of sixteen who befriended a stranger
on the Internet and was led to his death in Ramallah.
Our Rabbis have warned us repeatedly about the dangers of
the computer and of the Internet in particular. We can
smugly say that our children are safe from an occurrence
such as the one in the news. But let us open our eyes to the
real existing dangers that our children may be exposed to in
their choice of friends and in what they read or listen to
when they are behind a closed door.
The parents of this unfortunate young man say that they knew
their son as a good, clean, responsible person and
therefore, they did not pry into the contents of his
personal computer. Had they done so, they would have known
that he was involved in a most inappropriate relationship.
When his door was closed, they "respected his privacy." Now
they have lost him and they wonder where and when they went
wrong. His father insists that he was correct in his choice
to refrain from "spying" on his son. His mother, at least,
is willing to accept that maybe, some direction was required
in earlier years which may have prevented the tragedy.
The balance between respect for privacy and proper education
in which behavior is appropriate is a kind of seesaw. To
maintain perfect balance on this apparatus, if I remember
correctly from my youth, is to have equal weight on both
sides. At all times, there exists a tendency to flop down to
the bottom if either side puts on too much weight.
When I was a child, my parents never opened my mail. I
corresponded with distant cousins and unknown pen pals. But
the source was a known commodity. The pen pals had been
checked out before the relationship was allowed to be
established. First there was supervision, then respect for
privacy -- a balance.
My grandson was eleven and starting to find friends
independently in the neighborhood. My children began to be
concerned when a pattern of disobedience and late arrivals
showed itself. Then some words crept into his vocabulary
that were unacceptable. A small search led to one child who
had problems at home and was exerting a bad influence on
their son. They put their collective foot down and stopped
the friendship. It wasn't easy and there were some tears and
tantrums, but the operation was necessary and it was a
success.
At sixteen, my daughter brought home a new girl in the
building. One look was all I needed to have red lights and
warning bells flashing and going off all over the place. But
despite the make-up and too tight and too black clothes,
there was a sweetness, even an innocence in the girl and a
willingness to try to learn and improve. She was the only
child of recent baalei tshuva and she was allowed to
visit and learn from our home and from her contact with my
daughter. I won't lie and say I was always at ease with this
relationship, but I made a decision to take the chance that
the influence would be in the form of the positive to the
negative and not, G-d forbid, the other way around. There
were some rough spots and we had to call for help from some
counselors along the way when our future tzadekes
veered slightly off the beaten path here and there, but with
Hashem's help and mercy, she is now married and has stayed
frum. I think my daughter benefited from this
experiment [her friend certainly did] and appreciated that
we had confidence in her choice of friends. Sometimes,
balancing on a seesaw is very scary, like when you are
standing on the board and might fall off.
We have acquaintances who regularly accept total strangers
at their Shabbos table. Someone meets these people at the
Kotel. They are "interested" in seeing what it's like. So
they are given an address and they show up in whatever-style
of dress and hair, and earrings here and there. There are
young children at this Shabbos table. They learn in
chadorim and Yiddish speaking schools. They have long
payos or long dark stockings and braids. And they ask
questions!
Tatti, why is his shirt red? Does it hurt to put that
jewel in the side of your nose? Mommy, is she really Jewish?
She looks like a goy.
I will not pass judgment on this experiment. Obviously, this
family feels that they are strong enough to take this risk
and offer a taste of Shabbos in the hope that it will awaken
appetites for more and more Yiddishkeit. The children, in
the meantime, have definitely survived. It would seem that
we must deal from strength and learn to trust.
On a very personal level, I do not open my son's door if it
is closed. Does that sound like the father of our
unfortunate young man in the news? If I knock and get no
answer, it may mean a) he's davenning b) he's not
home c) he's sleeping d) he's learning or even e) he's in
the mood to be left alone. After many years of investing in
a proper yeshiva education and a home that is kosher not
only in its pots but also in its reading material,
conversation and values, one can then, and only then,
balance the seesaw of privacy versus supervision.
[And still be on our toes, Miriam. And pray for the best.
Ultimately, we must always pray for the best.]
