Trained in the hard rationality of clinical psychology, Dr. Wendy Mogel was amazed to discover the beauty of Judaism. Now she shows how ancient texts can restore sanity to the chaos of modern parenting
by Micah Sachs

   Clinical psychologist Dr. Wendy Mogel was not raised in a religious home. Her grandfather was president of his shul in Brighton Beach, but he told his son (Wendy's father) on his deathbed, "This tradition will die with me." He was nearly right.

   Mogel knew very little of Judaism as a child. She was not bat mitzvahed, her family did not belong to a congregation. Her father went to shul once a year for the High Holidays.

   So 13 years ago, when Mogel was asked by a friend to join her for a children's Rosh Hashanah service at Leo Baeck Temple in Bel Air, she thought, "Why not?"

   "I really went with the spirit of a cultural anthropologist: I would see how the Jews of Western Los Angeles celebrated their ancient tribal ritual," she recalls now.

   There she didn't find the imperious-looking rabbis she imagined as a child. The rabbi, Sue Elwell, spoke among the congregants, accompanied by a young man playing guitar. Something moved Mogel to tears.

   "I couldn't figure out why I was crying because I knew it couldn't be Judaism. I was looking for an explanation, because I am not an easy cry at all," she says.

   So she returned to Leo Baeck Temple with her daughter Susanna for the children's Yom Kippur service. As 2-year-old Susanna peed on her lap, Mogel was again moved to tears. Having spent much of her adult life devoted to the hard rationality of clinical psychology, she was bewildered. She embarked on one more test: she would go alone, without child, without friend, to a Friday night service at the synagogue nearest her home, Temple Israel of Hollywood.

   She was one of the few people there who was not a retiree. The rabbi was again a non-imperious type; he was 29-year-old, bowtie-wearing Rabbi Daniel Swartz, who had joined the rabbinate after leaving a career as a geologist. Mogel was so impressed by the young rabbi that she returned Saturday morning.

   This time she did not cry. But she gained something more powerful in the long run - she gained insight. Swartz spoke about Exodus 39, and how its discussion of the holy vestments of high priests showed the power of ritual clothing to elevate the spirit. He asked the congregants at his Reform congregation to return the next week in more formal garb.

   Mogel got to thinking. The idea of bigdei kodesh - the need to reinforce authority with signs and symbols - made sense, especially when dealing with children who had taken control of the home from their parents. "So I went back to my practice and talked to parents about being high priests of their home," she remembers, thinking specifically of a successful professional couple whose children had taken over, leaving their toys in every nook of the house including the couple's bed. Their two children, unaccustomed to boundaries, were critical and rude to their parents, and the boy had twice bitten other children at preschool. Mogel spoke to them about the need to establish themselves as the absolute authority. "The families came back the next week and said this was really helpful."

   Now she was onto something. The words of ancient Hebrew scribes had proved more effective than the modern texts of highly trained clinical psychologists. She had discovered a simple truth, shared by millions: Judaism still has something to teach us.

The book
   Soon after, Dr. Mogel went from dabbler to devoted student of Judaism. She eventually left her thriving practice and devoted herself to writing about the connections she'd made between ancient Jewish wisdom and modern parenting. The result? The Blessing of a Skinned Knee, an accessible, best-selling guide to parenting that has already gone through 12 printings.

   Despite its roots in Jewish tradition, the book has developed a large following in the general public as well. Educators across the country have embraced its straightforward lessons on parenting which, in these bewildering times, seem brand new - even though they're rooted in texts thousands of year old.

   "Here's a person who has extraordinary common sense, compassion and reverence for family life," says Richard Hof, assistant head of Saint Andrew's School, an Episcopal school of 415 kids in northern California. "Her advice, whether you're Jewish or not, is rock solid."

   Hof was so smitten by the book that he's invited Mogel to speak several times. He says she is "easily the most popular and well-received speaker we've ever had."

   Closer to home, Carol Hamilton, director of the lower school at La Jolla Country Day School, says, "Dr. Mogel gives parents permission to use their instincts to deal with children… Very often, throughout the school year, a teacher has told me, 'I wish that parent had read Blessing of a Skinned Knee.'"

   The book (subtitled "Using Jewish Teachings to Raise Self-Reliant Children") is completely based in ancient Jewish teachings, from the Torah to the Talmud, from the Mishna to Maimonides. Much, if not all, of the book runs counter to the conventional wisdom in modern parenting.

   Indeed, what led Mogel to write the book was her sense that modern approaches, like therapy, tutoring and sending kids to the best schools, were not helping a certain kind of child - and a certain kind of parent. In her practice Mogel saw family after family come in with children who were both bossy and timid, who had been so protected and catered to at home that they were unable to deal effectively with the outside world. "I started to notice that when I had good news to give parents, when I could tell them there was nothing wrong with their child, when I told them that their child doesn't need an educational therapist, doesn't need psychotherapy, doesn't need medication, doesn't need tutors, they were disappointed," she says. "And at the same time I heard from a lot of school administrators that children were being very overprotected, and that parents weren't letting them suffer in any way, that there could be no pain, no disappointment, no longing, no 'cold, wet, hungry.'"

   It's a common phenomenon, especially among parents raised in the '60s and '70s. Parents, especially financially comfortable ones, protect their children from every possible distress, treat them as utterly unique, schedule their child's every moment and work especially hard at making sure their children think they're "fair" parents. All of which, according to Mogel (and Judaism), is dead wrong.

   "Everybody is treating their children like idols. They're worshipping their every special breath, and anything that might lead to some earth-shatteringly good talent on their college applications," says Mogel.

   Dr. Mogel bases her book in the basic Jewish concepts of moderation, celebration and sanctification. Moderation, because it can help parents temper the desire to do everything for their child - and to push their child to gorge himself on homework and extracurriculars. Celebration, because it can restore some of the joy to children's lives that has been sapped away by hyperkinetic schedules. And sanctification, because the recognition of some things as sacred can restore order to chaotic modern family life.

Undoing the damage    One crucial mistake modern parents make is to assume that their child is absolutely "special." Anyone who has been to an elementary school in recent years will know the word well; every student, every art project, every play, every bake sale is, in some way, "special."

   When parents assume that their children have limitless potential, they're bound to be disappointed. "In their view," says Mogel in the book, "a diagnosable problem [is] better than a normal, natural limitation. A problem can be fixed, but a true limitation requires adjustment of expectations and acceptance of an imperfect son or daughter…

   "Why are parents so anxious to be raising perfect children? The answer is twofold: pride and fear of the future."

   Feeling the pressure of what she calls "pornography" (U.S. News & World Report's ranking of the best colleges), many parents push their children, even at a young age, to do multiple sports, play an instrument, learn a second (or third) language… in short, do whatever is necessary to ensure acceptance into the right college. In their preparatory fervor, parents push their children to be generalists, good at everything, while not recognizing the hypocrisy in front of their faces: rarely are adults expected to be generalists.

   Another culprit is the move towards standardization in public schools over the last 20 years. By standardizing curriculum and instituting standardized tests for nearly every grade, schools are held accountable for their student's education; the flipside is that each child is stuck in a "one size fits all" mode. Worse, with test scores available on a regular basis, parents have another means to compare their children.

   Mogel asks parents to work against the impulse of high expectations for their children. She wants parents to give their children the time and space to pursue their own, unstructured, seemingly unproductive interests, even if that means they spend all afternoon building forts of leaves in the backyard.

   Mogel finds Judaism's attention to holiness in simple things a "an antidote to specialitis." The holiest day is not a High Holiday but every Saturday; the holiest food is plain egg bread; the holiest building is not a cathedral but a sukkah - which is little more than a fort of leaves in the backyard.