Many school systems today function like factories, with standardized curricula that act as an assembly line for every student. This industrialized approach to education does not take into account the individual learning styles or interests of each student, leaving little room for developing their innate potential and particular gifts. As Einstein succinctly put it, “Everybody is a genius, but if you judge a fish by its ability to climb a tree, it will live its whole life believing that it is stupid.”

In place of such a homogenizing method of teaching, King Solomon writes in the Book of Proverbs:1 Educate a child in his own way, so that even when he grows old he will not stray from it. This more personalized approach is reflected in the Hebrew word for education, chinuch, a variation of which is used in the Mishnah2 to describe the act of hewing out stone inside a catacomb, fit specifically to size. Similarly, education is meant to be tailored and responsive to each individual student.

Judaism therefore supports a more child-centered, rather than top-down, paradigm of education, in which each child is seen to possess both their own unique way of learning as well as their own wellspring of wisdom. As we learn in Proverbs,3 Counsel in a man’s heart is like deep water, but a man of understanding will draw it out. Targum Yonatan4 explains that the man of understanding in this verse refers to a teacher who “draws out” the wisdom from within each student by asking them the right questions.5

Fittingly, a common Hebrew word for teacher, melamed, is etymologically related to the word for midwife, meyaledet.6 A good teacher will aid the student in “giving birth” to their own innate wisdom and ideas.

Notably, the two-letter root of the word chinuch, chein (usually translated as grace), is translated by the Targum7 as rachamim, meaning compassion, which is related to the word rechem or womb. A classroom is therefore like a womb—a place filled with a ruach cham, a warm spirit of nurturing and burgeoning new life.

Accordingly, a teacher must be a person of kindness, warmth, and sensitivity, so that their manner of teaching will be infused with these qualities. As our Sages say8 : “The words of the wise are heard when they are spoken gently.”

Furthermore, our Sages caution that one who easily loses patience is not fit to be a teacher.9

In addition to its personalized approach to education, Judaism is ultimately focused on the development of the whole person. Contrary to the current focus of many schools, in Jewish thought the ideal result of education is not limited to the acquisition of knowledge and information; rather, it is integrally concerned with the more holistic formation of a mentch—a fully developed person with refined moral character. Jewish education is therefore not just about the honing of the intellect; rather, it is about the development of the person in their entirety.

In this sense, the goal of education is to set the student up for life. As Rashi writes,10Chinuch refers to a person’s entrance into a trade that they will eventually take up.”

Ideally, education provides the training that will help students develop the ability to think independently and act with integrity.

Accordingly, our Sages teach11 : “Derech eretz kadmah laTorah,” meaning that common decency and dignified behavior is a prerequisite to higher knowledge.

In the words of R. Schneur Zalman of Liadi:12 “...there can be no Torah without fine character.”

Regarding this, the sixth Lubavitcher Rebbe, R. Yosef Yitzchak, writes13 that “the main effort of an educator lies chiefly in transforming the base and ignoble traits of his pupil.”

Expanding on this, the Lubavitcher Rebbe writes:14 “Children, by nature, do whatever they see fit, without any restraints...[and] must therefore be trained to set boundaries and change their habitual natures, until they attain sovereignty of mind over heart.”

This philosophy is based on a verse in Job15 that states: A human is born as a wild donkey. Meaning, a person’s natural tendency is to follow their most base and animalistic instincts, with no consideration for the deeper meaning or long-term impact of their appetites and actions. The work of the teacher, therefore, on a deeper level, is to help their students develop a more refined character by instilling in them a spiritual worldview, which includes a set of positive habits and values.

Such a process of character refinement is not as simple as conveying information; rather, it must be taught by example—the teacher must be a mentch16 and someone the child can respect.

It is for this reason that the word chinuch is understood by some scholars17 as a derivative of the word chein, which means charm or rapport—referring to an invisible bond, an emotional connection and mutual appreciation, that exists between the teacher and student. To describe this invisible connection, the Steipler Gaon quotes from Proverbs,18 Just as a person’s face is reflected in the water, so too a person’s heart is reflected in that of their fellow. This is yet another indication of how deeply relational and effective meaningful education truly is.

It follows that the essence of the teacher-student relationship and the internal work of the teacher is to connect to his student. In this sense, a more accurate translation of mechanech, teacher, is a connector. In this spirit, the Talmud19 relates that the Sage Rabbah would begin his class with a light-hearted remark to get his students to laugh and create an air of camaraderie, and only then would he turn to more serious matters and begin the lesson. Commentaries explain that he did this to open the hearts of the students so they would become more receptive to learning.

Elsewhere,20 the Talmud advises that an educator should teach their students subjects that genuinely interest them. To quote our Sages: “A person should learn Torah (only) from a place [topic] that the heart desires.”

This is because wanting to know something is essential to any intellectual process. Conversely, disinterest and indifference dull the mind and its faculties of comprehension. Those who genuinely seek to understand a subject will apprehend it, no matter how difficult.

Put simply, the mind doesn’t just open the heart, the heart opens the mind.

Such an approach requires a teacher to be both perceptive and sensitive to where each of their students’ interests lie. Such fine attention is a subtle but clear communication to a student that their teacher cares about what captivates them.

All of this points to a single essential truth: For education to be truly effective, the most important component is the quality of the relational connection that exists between teacher and student. The student needs to feel that the teacher sincerely cares—not just about the subject matter, but about them. Only when the student is made to feel loved, respected, and cherished will their hearts be opened and the environment be ripe for real learning and growth to take place. As the saying goes: People don’t care how much you know until they know how much you care.

A moving example of such care and devotion is illustrated by a story in the Talmud.21 Rav once found his colleague, R. Shmuel bar Sheilat, who was a schoolteacher, tending to his garden. Seeing that he was not with his disciples, Rav asked: “Have you abandoned the children entrusted to your care?” R. Shmuel replied: “I have not seen my garden for thirteen years, yet, even now, I cannot stop thinking about the children!”

Teaching isn’t just another nine-to-five job; a great teacher is one for whom teaching is a lifelong calling. And it is from such a dedicated midwife, mentch, and role model that students learn most and best.

As the Hebrew word chinuch, which literally means inauguration, suggests, the ultimate objective of a teacher is to initiate a student on the path of lifelong learning. For, ultimately, to quote Socrates: “The purpose of education is not to fill a vessel but to kindle a flame.”

The Big Idea

Education is what remains after one has forgotten what one has learned

It Happened Once

A man once shared his parenting frustrations with the Lubavitcher Rebbe, saying, “Rebbe, I don’t understand! Despite raising all of my children exactly the same way, one of my kids chose to leave the path of Jewish faith and practice! How could this be?! I raised them all exactly the same way!”

The Rebbe replied gently, “Perhaps raising all of your children in exactly the same way was precisely the problem... For when it comes to raising and educating children, it’s absolutely essential to take each of their unique personalities, needs, and interests into consideration…”