When Shuvu schools throughout Eretz Yisroel opened two weeks
ago, many changes in the school system weren't immediately
apparent to most students. For the people behind the scenes
who made the opening day of school happen, however, the
changes were striking indeed.
In Petach Tikva, for example, dozens of first-graders stepped
into freshly-painted, airy classrooms that only days before
had been dingy, musty chambers in a neglected, deteriorating
building. Little did they know that for the previous two
weeks, teams of electricians, plumbers, and contractors had
worked in shifts to get the building ready. The school's
entire sleep-deprived staff had also worked themselves ragged
transforming the vacant building into an ideal learning
environment that is now the envy of local secular schools.
A miracle of an entirely different kind took place in Shuvu's
Tel Aviv school which, as of last week, did not have the
capacity to accommodate even one more child, never mind the
150 newly-enrolled students from Cholon who were on the
waiting list.
Wondering where they would put the new students ("It never
crossed my mind that we would actually turn them away," says
the school's principal, Leah Chevroni, in retrospect) the
school's staff turned to Shuvu Director Rabbi Michael
Guttermann and asked him to find a bigger building.
"It's just one of the countless instances of Hashgochoh
protis with which Shuvu has been blessed since the
beginning," says Rabbi Guttermann, when asked for more
details concerning the Tel Aviv incident.
While assuring the Cholon parents that a school large enough
to house their children would materialize, Shuvu hanholo
members reconnoitered the city in a desperate search for
a suitable facility. They knew that even on the slim chance
that they found one, it would be impossible to complete the
renovations that it would most likely require in time for the
first day of school.
How then did Shuvu manage to find a bigger facility and open
on time? Simple -- the contract between the landlord and a
secular school system fell through at the very last minute,
and Shuvu walked into a fully functional, furnished school
all ready to go.
"We couldn't believe it when we walked in to inspect the
facility," said Mrs. Chevroni, the principal. "It was as
though it dropped down from Shomayim."
The non-religious landlord of the facility was just as
impressed.
"You must be very special people," he said to Rabbi
Guttermann. "I had an agreement all sewn up with the other
school, and suddenly it just unraveled."
Two days later, some 400 Shuvu students came in to learn, as
though having such a spacious and well- designed school
building was the most natural thing in the world.
According to Rabbi Guttermann, these kinds of miracles have
been part and parcel of Shuvu since its opening day. "It has
always been like this," he says, "a few days before school
opens, all of the different components of our school system
have yet to fall into place -- facilities, principals,
teachers, operating licenses, furniture. There are so many
variables when you attempt to do the impossible. But somehow,
often at the very last moment, all the pieces of the puzzle
fit together and everything clicks."
This is also true in the bigger picture, says Rabbi
Guttermann. "Shuvu has entered a new stage in its
development. When it was first founded 11 years ago, Shuvu
ran Jewish studies enrichment programs for Russian immigrant
children attending Chinuch Atzmai schools.
"Then it entered its second stage with the establishment of
its own schools in the 1990s in response to the big waves of
immigration from the former Soviet Union. This has evolved
into a network of schools and kindergartens that stretches
from one end of Eretz Yisroel to the other.
"This year, I see a third stage. Most of our young students
are not olim who were born in Russia but children of
olim, who were born here in Eretz Yisroel. Unlike in
past years, much less effort needs to be invested in
convincing Russian parents to send their children to our
schools. Nowadays, Shuvu is the Russian-speaking parent's
first choice of education for his children. They come to us
virtually on their own. All we have to do is let them know
that we're here."
One of the most patent signs of Shuvu's growing reputation
among Russian-speaking families is in the organization's
facts and figures for the 2002-2003 school year -- 28 new
first grade classes opened comprising 700 children, and a
kindergarten network of 30 kindergarten groups numbering some
400 new children - - statistics that signal stability and
increased growth for the organization in years to come. In
addition, 400 children in grades 2 and up joined Shuvu
schools this year, totaling a net gain of 1,500 new students
for the school system.
Another sign that the organization has switched gears, says
Larissa Litvin, who mans Shuvu's school registration
telephone department, is in the relatively low number of
emergency phone calls she had to field this year on opening
day.
"Usually on the first day of school," says Larissa, "the
phone rings off the hook with hysterical parents complaining
about logistical problems, such as the school bus not having
shown up to pick up their kids, or he or she not having found
the textbooks that appear on the book list. It's normal.
There are always going to be such mix-ups, and when you think
of how many parents have their kids in the network, it's
really a very small percentage.
"This year I thought, `Oh no, what's going to happen this
time! We've never been so big -- 30 kindergarten groups, 15
elementary schools, 16 high schools, a yeshiva and a
kollel! I was expecting the roof to figuratively fall
in on me.
"You can imagine how surprised I was when I received only 15
calls the entire day. `Hey,' I said halfway through the day
to Nechama, the secretary, `I think our people out there
really have this down to an art.'
"She said back to me, 'And let's not forget the Hashgochoh
protis factor, either. It's a big one.' "
