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Dining, Not Feeding: What Jewish Education Can -- and Must -- Be (Reflections from the 2025 Innovators Retreat)


Manette Mayberg delivers her remarks at IR25.
Manette Mayberg delivers her remarks at IR25.

Last week, I had the honor of serving as Project Manager and facilitator for the Jewish Education Innovation Challenge’s Innovators Retreat. It was, as always, a place where bold ideas and holy discontent meet. A space where you leave with more questions than answers – but the right questions. 


And the loudest one I keep coming back to is: What now?


There’s something uniquely energizing about being in a room full of people who are willing to wrestle with the reality that Jewish education – despite all its heart, dedication, and tradition – still isn’t delivering what our students most need.


Manette Mayberg, the visionary behind JEIC and trustee of the Mayberg Foundation, opened the second day the retreat with a compelling analogy. She told a story about Joaquin, her family’s long-time “Mary Poppins” and a graduate of the Culinary Institute of America. After an especially memorable dinner, Joaquin smiled and said, “Now this is dining.” When she asked him what he meant, he explained: most places feed people. Only a few places offer a dining experience. Feeding, he said, is about efficiency. Getting the food out. Hitting the marks. Dining is about care, customization, and intention. It’s about the guest’s experience, not the kitchen’s output.


And then she asked the room full of Jewish educators and leaders: Are our schools feeding students? Or are they giving them a dining experience?


That question has been haunting me in the best way.


Feeding students means giving them information, structure, benchmarks, and tests. It might even mean good teaching. But dining? Dining is immersive. It’s intentional. It’s personal. Dining invites the student to savor, to internalize, to come back for more.


In many Jewish day schools today, including in the realm of Jewish studies, the experience can often feel more like feeding. We’ve inherited a model rooted in the industrial age – standardized, efficiency-driven, results-focused. Get the students through the curriculum. Hit the benchmarks. Prep for the next test, the next high school, the next stage. The same model that, as Manette reminded us, Rabbi Berel Wein once called “a failed experiment."


But Jewish education – real Jewish education – was never meant to be about production. It’s supposed to be about transformation.


We don’t need to “deliver content.” We need to cultivate connection.


And we don’t have to accept this. In fact, JEIC exists because people like Manette and others out there refuse to accept this.


Manette outlines a powerful new GPS for Jewish education: the “God Positioning System,” built on three essential components: GC – God-Centered, SC – Student-Centered, CC – Culture Change.


These aren’t buzzwords; they’re road signs.


God-Centered doesn’t mean dogma or doctrine. It means anchoring the school experience in meaning, purpose, and a sense of something greater. It means helping students see themselves as part of an eternal story, not just a temporary academic game.


Student-Centered means honoring the unique soul of each learner. Not in a vague, feel-good kind of way, but in the real, sometimes messy work of meeting kids where they are, helping them see their strengths, and giving them room to grow into their potential.


And Culture Change? That’s the real engine. Without shifting the culture – how we talk, how we lead, how we assess, how we engage – we won’t get anywhere. That’s what makes this route so profound. GC and SC aren’t just parallel priorities; they flow from the same source. Our ability to foster a relationship with God in students is directly connected to our ability to foster meaningful relationships with students. And both require a culture that supports the work.


I’ve been sitting with all of this since the retreat. Turning it over. Feeling inspired, yes, but also restless. Because as powerful as it was to be in that room, the question that keeps circling back for me is: What now?


It’s not a rhetorical question. It’s an invitation.


My professional life is dedicated to empowering excellence and innovation in education, particularly in Jewish day schools. That means helping schools not just dream bigger, but build better. It means working alongside school leaders and educators who are hungry to do things differently. Who are tired of feeding and want to create something worth dining on.


I’m looking for those people – the ones who hear Manette’s words and don’t just nod along but feel something shift inside. The ones who want to reimagine what their school can be, not just incrementally improve what it already is. The ones who are willing to experiment, who are ready to move past short-term wins and start designing for long-term impact.


Because Jewish day schools should be known for the best education. Period. Not “best for a religious school,” or “best given our constraints,” or “best we can do with what we have.” The best.


And we have everything we need:

  • The wisdom and values that have sustained our people for millennia.

  • The language to name what we want—and the tools to start building it.

  • The creativity and brilliance that pour out of our educators and students every single day.


So: what now?


If you're a school leader, now might be the time to revisit your vision. Is it truly a God-Positioning System…or just a mission statement on a website?


If you're a teacher, now might be the time to look at your practice. Are you feeding your students…or creating moments that leave them hungry for more?


If you're a funder or community partner, now might be the time to ask what kind of educational experiences your investments are supporting. Are they creating the kind of Jewish identities we hope to see 10 years from now…or just next year’s test scores?


And if you're like me, someone who believes in what Jewish education could be, then now is the time to find your fellow travelers.


This isn’t easy work. But it’s necessary. And it’s sacred.


Let’s choose the route that brings us closer to our authentic destination. Let’s make sure our students don’t just get fed – but are fed well, with meaning, depth, joy, and purpose. Let’s make Jewish education something worth coming back for.


The table is set. Let’s serve something unforgettable.

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