Experts Offer Advice for Navigating
the Spiritual Dangers of Today’s Universities
Victor Cohen
Growing up in a community like ours made things seem easy. Surrounded by warm and affirming beliefs, we grew up in an enclave of religious observance, steeped in tradition. Attending the community’s yeshivot, praying and being involved in the synagogues, enjoying the rising number of kosher restaurants, and even participating in events at our community centers, we stuck together and we stuck to Judaism.
However, as many of us came to learn, the rest of the world does not share our values, and upon stepping outside the boundaries of our wonderful enclave of warmth and tradition, it is easy to get swept away by the powerful current of the surrounding culture. Once we leave the spiritual “safety zone” of our community, we run the risk of losing sight of what really matters. Spiritual alienation on college campuses is a real, prevalent phenomenon, and affects many of our youth in some way.
This phenomenon is not new, but it has been significantly exacerbated by the eruption of anti-Israel and anti-Semitic protests on campuses around the United States. The environment has become more contentious in recent months, and it is easy to feel lost on campus, remote from our families and our community.
As a recent graduate of Baruch College, currently enrolled in Cardozo Law School, I can attest to having personally dealt with this challenge. However, I realize that to fully understand the problem, I need to hear other people’s accounts and perspectives.
Rabbi Alter Goldstein has been serving as head Chabad Rabbi of the University of Michigan for 26 years, and I was fortunate to have had the opportunity to speak with him about the sensitive, but crucially important, topic of the risks of spiritual alienation on college campuses. I express my deep gratitude as well to Rabbi Joey Haber, founder and head of the Kesher organization, which works with our community’s post-high school youth, not only for his insights, but also for personally coming to Baruch each week to teach Torah.
The Game is Rigged
“You’re coming in knowing that this isn’t an environment conducive to spirituality and religion,” Rabbi Goldstein says. He explains that college students are exposed to many different lures and influences, that come in the form of parties, weekend events like football games (often on Shabbat), and the reality that many schools have classes on Jewish holidays. The hedonistic nature of campus life, and the celebration of wanton indulgence, pose a serious challenge to the religiously-committed Jewish student.
“It is hard to stay where you are, and even more difficult to grow,” Rabbi Goldstein observes.
Away from family, synagogues and a communal structure, youngsters are likely to look for something else to latch onto. And with alluring activities at arms-length at all times, it’s only a matter of time until some compromises are made.
But beyond the spiritual challenges posed by campus life, grave danger lurks inside the classroom, as well, where students are taught by professors with a secular worldview who select texts and devise curricula that promote their personal opinions and perspectives. Many professors come to the classroom with worldviews which are nothing short of appalling, and students are forced to listen to these foreign values presented as incontrovertible, enlightened truth. The young 18 or 19-year-old student has no easy way to oppose the older, academically-trained professor who speaks with authority as he or she tries to impose his beliefs on his or her students. The student hears only the perspectives the agenda-driven professors provide, and is often lectured to about the validity of these ideas. If the student ignores it or tunes it all out, his or her academic performance will suffer.
The game is rigged against the religious student. The professors control your final grade, so you have no choice to at least appear to agree with them. The problem is, with everyone appearing to agree, with papers being forced to be written in favor of these outrageous ideas, with the higher grades going to those who “buy in” the most, it becomes very difficult not to begin to see some validity in these completely invalid ideas.
I experienced this many times during my years at Baruch, and, like others, I played the game. I appeared to agree, because I learned that when I didn’t, it would harm my grade. I wrote papers wholly in agreement with ideas that I despise. It required a great deal of detachment to pull that off.
Reflecting on these two different challenges – the alluring campus life, and the foreign ideologies taught in the classroom – Rabbi Joey Haber observed that “the parties are a bigger challenge than the ideas,” because “the parties are more attractive than the ideas are.”
At the same time, however, Rabbi Haber believes that the ideological damage can often prove to be more permanent. He says that in his experience, it’s easier to pull someone back into the community if the main issue is the parties or the lifestyle. When it comes to the foreign ideas, though, “while they are more difficult to get trapped by, they are much harder to be pulled from.”
Rabbi Goldstein added that students today seem more apathetic and nonchalant about their connection to Judaism. Resisting the spiritually hostile forces that abound requires strength and fortitude, and, unfortunately, many students simply lack the religious passion and commitment to exert this kind of effort.
Time Constraints
Another important factor to consider is the limits on a student’s time. Most youngsters who enroll in college do so in order to prepare for what they hope will be a successful professional career, and so, naturally, they take their studies very seriously and want to get good grades. Pursuing academic excellence of course necessitates the investment of a great deal of time – which makes meeting one’s religious obligations a difficult struggle.
When I started studying at Baruch, I was living in an apartment in Kips Bay, around a 20-minute walk to the nearest synagogue, which had only one minyan in the morning, at 6:45am. As the weather got colder, this walk became less feasible. My family was all the way back in Deal, and I would see them only on weekends. And so I found myself isolated from my support systems, being forced to fend for myself in an unfamiliar world.
One day, I had to wake up extra early to get to my 7am writing class. Like I had done the day before, I said I would come back to my apartment after the class ended at 9am so I could pray at a (somewhat) reasonable time. I came back, but I had homework to take care of before my history class at 10:45. I did the homework and then left, walking back in at around 1pm. An essay was due at 11:59 that night. I ate lunch and then sat down to work on my essay. I was tired, as I had a long day up to that point, and long nights that entire week. I closed my eyes at around 2pm and woke up again at 4:45. It was getting a little darker out, and I made myself some coffee to wake up. All the while, I felt like I was forgetting something, but had no clue what it was.
It took me a few minutes to realize that I hadn’t put on tefillin yet. I immediately scrambled to get it on before the day ended, ashamed of myself, but too much in a rush to think too much about it. The sun hadn’t set by the time I got my tefillin on, so I did not actually “miss the day,” but this was a close call that rattled me and made me realize that I needed to change something about my situation. I moved out of the apartment a few weeks later and moved in with my grandparents in Brooklyn. The daily subway ride was annoying, but I was making minyan.
For some college kids, keeping kosher is a problem – especially in colleges with limited availability of kosher food. Rabbi Goldstein says that in the case of Michigan, while kosher food is available, it is still a big challenge for people, adding, “I don’t know what they do for their personal life” in terms of kashrut.
Thankfully, this was never an issue for me, partly because I had easy access to kosher food, but also because twice a week, Kesher brought kosher food for the students who attended their classes. In fact, Rabbi Haber says, this is one of the organization’s objectives.
Responding to my question of why Kesher comes to colleges, Rabbi Haber explains, “We have a chance to give them kosher food easily, inspire students, bring them together, give them a sense of community, and give them an opportunity to pray.”
Staying Close to Your Network
What, then, is the solution? What strategies are available to a young man or woman from the community who goes off to college?
First and foremost, Rabbi Goldstein strongly recommends learning for a year in Israel before college, even if no college credits are earned during that year. The experience of immersing oneself in our sacred texts in the Holy Land provides a degree of fortification that can help a youngster withstand the spiritual challenges posed by college life.
And while in college, the student needs to gird himself with strength and confidence.
“The number one thing I tell them is that they’re a leader, not a follower,” Rabbi Goldstein says. The student must realize that he charts his own course, rather than blindly following the crowd.
Furthermore, students should try to keep their education close to home.
While acknowledging that certain colleges offer a better education in some areas than others (Michigan, for example, is renowned for its engineering program), both Rabbi Goldstein and Rabbi Haber say if you want to keep the values you grew up with, stay close to your family and your network, and strongly consider close-to-home options.
It is not uncommon for a community youngster to face the decision between an out-of-town college which specializes in his or her field of choice, and a less prestigious institution that is located nearby and offers the option of commuting from home. Rabbi Goldstein unhesitatingly and strongly recommends the second option.
“Especially in today’s day and age, staying closer to home is so important,” he says. “Specifically in the Sephardic world, there’s a very, very strong family-oriented atmosphere.”
Rabbi Haber concurs, explaining, “When you’re closer to home, your family, your shuls and your friends are surrounding you – and all three of those are a great guide to your life.”
I can relate to this. After a while, I left Brooklyn and just started commuting directly from Deal every day. I adjusted my schedule to make it reasonably work, and took Metro Park into the city. I felt spiritually connected in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time, and got more involved in my local synagogue, taking part in planning and helping out on Shabbat. This coincided with the rise of the hate-filled anti-Israel protests on campus, so I was glad to come home, away from all the chaos. Staying close to home, to your family, friends, and shul, is the best way to maintain one’s spiritual connection.
Additionally, Rabbi Haber says, the college that appears to best prepare the youngster for his or her career might not necessarily turn out to be the best choice.
“It’s very hard to predict how your career is going to go, and even harder to know in advance what will be better for your career.” It’s simply not worth it to risk one’s spiritual connection for the sake of studying at a school which might potentially offer long-term career benefits.
Fighting Fire with Fire
Strange as this might sound, it is important also to “fight back” when this is necessary and possible, to find creative solutions to problems created by the college system.
In my final semester, Baruch threw me a curveball: it required me to find and complete an internship at a communications company in order to graduate. As I was nearing the finish line, about to complete a four-year degree in only two years, and having just been admitted to Cardozo, I had zero interest in getting bogged down by more red tape.
Earlier, I mentioned that to succeed in college, you have to play their game. But while this is generally true, with enough skill and determination, you can beat the system and come out on top.
“How are you guys with nonprofits?” I asked.
“We’re good with non-profits,” They answered. “Just send us an approval letter.”
And so, instead of working at a company of their choosing, which would likely bring with it some degree of spiritual compromise, I walked into my local synagogue and got a volunteer job as an assistant twice a week. I restructured my schedule to Zoom classes on those days, and suddenly, I was only going into the city two days a week. The other two days? I was working in the synagogue, giving back to my community, all on a school-accredited internship. For all the punches they’ve thrown at me, it felt good to land one of my own.
Spiritual alienation is a battle. You are in a fight to keep your values, to keep close to your community, even as outside forces seek to rip you away from it. But do not for a moment think that this battle cannot be won. Be proactive. Be creative. Fight fire with fire. Start a minyan on campus. Find a havruta with whom to learn daf yomi. Build something into your daily routine that strengthens your connection to your heritage.
And what if a student was already alienated, drifting away from religious commitment, and now wishes to return?
“If it’s a girl, find a religious mentor, and if it’s a boy, find a rabbi to learn with,” Rabbi Haber says.
Rabbi Goldstein’s message to college students is: “Try to be an inspiration to others.”
People have tremendous respect for those who adhere to their values, even through hardship. If you win this battle, and remain steadfastly committed even in the face of the pressures on campus, you will be a role model to others, and you will have set yourself on the path to success in all areas of life, having gained invaluable experience in the art of struggle and triumphing over adversity.
Don’t stop fighting to maintain your fealty to the traditions of our community. You can do this!