I always smile when I hear that joke. It makes me proud of the reputation of my uninhibited ancestors, how, from Moses to my mother, we have never been shy about expressing ourselves. We discuss, we give speeches, we articulate, we offer opinions, we blab, confabulate, confer, converse, dialogue, lecture. A complete collection of the rest of the traits we share is impossible to document. But they include a fanatical worship of children, a reverence for education, pride in our heritage and in our struggle over thousands of years to survive, and a dedication to our traditions — be they practiced subtly or asserted proudly. 

However, in the midst of this celebrated and rich legacy, I have always been intrigued that among ourselves we sometimes question each others’ approaches to these traditions. 

An unexpected honor has been bestowed upon me that has taught me many lessons in this regard. It is the honor of teaching. I have been given the opportunity to teach music to many hundreds of young children in Jewish schools. 

I teach in JCCs, as well as in a Conservative school, and an Orthodox school. Being from an Ultra Reform SBM (Sunday Morning Bagels) background, I wasn’t sure I was educated properly to teach these precious students. But I was welcomed with patience and open arms by every denomination. 

When I applied to the more Reform schools, I felt they were familiar to me. When I applied to the Conservative  school, I felt a bit nervous. When I applied to the Orthodox school, I wondered what the heck I was thinking. The only Hebrew I knew was a sung version of the Four Questions I had learned in shul when I was seven. And now I was too old to be invited to sing them at any Passover table.  But over time I learned. I now know and teach songs and dances for every holiday. We sing blessings for Shabbat. We act like melting candles for Chanukah, we sing and dip apples in honey for Rosh Hashanah, we form a sukkah with our hands as we sing for Sukkot, and we march on Simchat Torah.  

In every school the children are the same — breathtakingly beautiful,  enchanting, devilish, and irresistible. The children from every corner of the world in the JCCs, the Conservative Jewish children in the Day School, the Orthodox Jewish children wearing kippot and tsitsith. 

For Passover, after we had sung about the baby Moses and pretended to cross the Red Sea, I asked the children at the JCC a question. "How do you say ‘Passover’ in Hebrew?" Their young faces were blank and they were silent. 

I chirped, "Pesach!" They screwed up their faces at such a funny word, then repeated it many times until they said it correctly. 

At the Conservative Day School I asked the children, "How do you say ‘Passover’ in Hebrew?" Half of them responded without hesitation, "Pesach!" 

At the Orthodox preschool, I asked the children, "How do you say ‘Pesach’ in English?" Their young faces were blank and they were silent. 

I chirped, "Passover!" They screwed up their faces at such a funny word, then repeated it many times until they said it correctly. 

The children cause me to ponder the story of the first Pesach, because of course our children are as beloved and exalted today as they were then. Worth every risk, worth the deception of doors painted with lamb’s blood, worth every hastily wrapped bundle of goods to be taken along in a desperate escape. 

I love my talkative, uninhibited tribe, grown-ups and kids alike. I love their similarities and their differences, their twenty opinions. When I hear Jews  making questioning or judgmental comments about the different practices of other Jews, I am reminded of the similarities, which contrary to some appearances, far outweigh the differences. When we give in to the temptation to individuate from one another because of our practices, that might be a good time to think about the children we protected a long time ago, in the Pesach of the Bible. We, as a village, did not check to see if they were like us before unconditionally risking death to save them.We just knew they were ours… and that was enough. 

Jolie Kanat is a Being Jewish reader from San Rafael, California. She is a Jewish music teacher who obviously loves her work and kids. You can reach her at JolieOK@aol.com.

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