Opinion

THE MAKING OF A MERGER

Education as a bridge: Uniting Jewish philosophies through shared programming

Can two Jewish day schools with very different roots come together to create something greater, or is the divide in their philosophies and practices just too wide?

That was the question hanging in the air as a group of us lay and professional leaders from Rodeph Sholom School and Schechter Manhattan sat down to talk. The stakes were high, and none of us knew how things would turn out.

But one thing was clear: we had no choice but to try. 

Both schools were academically strong, but we were facing the same storm. Enrollment was shrinking. Families were leaving Manhattan for Brooklyn. Public schools were getting better. And the financial reality of running a day school, costing close to $60,000 per child per year, was daunting. The Schechter Manhattan stakeholders all cared deeply about the future of our school, our students and our Jewish values, but how could we bridge our differences when even agreeing on how to teach Hebrew felt like walking a tightrope?

For me, this wasn’t just a professional conversation. I was there as a Schechter board member and a former parent, but I also wore another hat: I was a donor. I’ve spent years supporting Jewish education because I believe we need to raise a generation of non-Orthodox, egalitarian Jewish leaders who feel a strong obligation to community, both Jewish and non-Jewish; who have the ability to seriously engage with and find meaning in Jewish texts and practice; and who are committed to creating a more peaceful world. I felt it was important to step in and support these two incredible schools, ensuring they had a chance to find common ground and avoid any potential hurdles along the way.

It quickly became clear that combining the schools made sense. But it also became clear that it wasn’t going to feel “fair” to everyone. Rodeph, with its larger student body and stronger resources, was naturally going to retain more control — its name, its synagogue affiliation and much of its programming. That was a tough pill for the Schechter side to swallow. But when we turned to Jewish and Hebrew studies, which were Schechter’s strengths, Rodeph was faced with its own compromises.

Here’s where things got interesting.

Someone floated the idea of offering two tracks for Jewish and Hebrew education, similar to the math tracks available in many schools. One track would be based on Schechter’s philosophy, emphasizing Hebrew fluency, hands-on Jewish practice and text study in the original Hebrew. The other track would align more with Rodeph’s approach, focusing on Hebrew competency and learning about Judaism using translated texts. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but it was enough to keep us moving forward.

When the dust settled, we had something new: the Makor (“Source”) program. It was essentially the Schechter track, and Rodeph had agreed to make room for it. Schechter, in turn, had agreed to merge into Rodeph’s broader structure. Compromises were made on all sides and we all had moments of doubt, but in the end, we emerged with hope — hope that we were creating something remarkable. 

It wasn’t certain at first, but together we built something extraordinary.

Of course, merging schools isn’t just about educational philosophy. There are also finances to consider. Rodeph agreed to honor Schechter’s lower tuition rates for incoming students, with gradual increases over time. Schechter donors stepped up, funding Makor for at least two years, including bringing experienced Schechter teachers to lead the program. They also covered a learning specialist, a Schechter-trained science teacher, synagogue dues for Schechter families who weren’t members of Rodeph (a requirement) and even a marketing fund. Was it expensive? Sure. But it was far cheaper and much better for the kids than running two schools that were both facing obstacles of their own.

And now, here we are. The Makor program is thriving, with dynamic learning opportunities and deeply engaged students. Enrollment in the program has been stronger than expected and includes 64 Rodeph students representing 76% of the total program enrollment. These students will gain a level of fluency in Hebrew and familiarity with Jewish texts they wouldn’t have otherwise. Families touring the school now see options that meet a wider range of needs. Some who might have found the idea of a Jewish day school “too Jewish” are reassured they can choose a different track. Interest in Rodeph Sholom School and Makor is growing.

Even more meaningful to me, we’ve shown that it’s possible to bridge history and ideology to build something better. Rodeph and Schechter didn’t agree on everything — far from it. But we found a way to work together, and the result is a stronger, more sustainable school.

Could this pave the way for other schools and Jewish institutions to try something similar? I hope so. The challenges we faced weren’t unique, and neither were the solutions. With creativity, flexibility and a shared sense of purpose, more collective organizations might find a way to thrive together rather than struggle apart. It’s not easy. It requires compromise, humility and risk. But as I look at what we’ve accomplished together, I can say this with confidence: it’s all been worth it.

Sally Gottesman is a strategist, donor and leader in the field of Jewish education. She currently serves as the board chair of Encounter and was a co-founder of Moving Traditions. She has also held board positions at Schechter Manhattan and co-founded the Neurofibromatosis Therapeutics Acceleration Project (NTAP) at Johns Hopkins University.