Although I go to SAR High School, a progressive, coeducational modern Orthodox institution, I am not particularly ideological about educational models. I believe that some girls learn better in single-sex environments, whereas others thrive in coed schools. However, my years at SAR have made me realize that coeducation has many benefits that a single-sex education could not provide. I deeply appreciate coeducation, and I would like to explain why I think it is an important mainstay in modern Orthodox society.
I have never attended a single-sex school. From nursery through high school I have always been in religious and secular classes with both girls and boys, taught by men and women. It has always seemed normal to me that a woman taught me Gemara or that I was in hevruta with a male classmate. However, this year, there have been several moments when I was more aware of the tensions that may arise when learning the same material as boys. When we studied the rules of tzitzit, my rabbi conceded that women are not actually forbidden from wearing tzitzit and that in this day and age, the main restriction is to prevent “haughtiness.” Women who wear tzitzit are seen as instigators, wearing the garment for the statement it proclaims rather than out of devotion to Hashem. As my rabbi broached this idea, my class was forced to confront the notion that much of our tradition has historical context and many of the limitations on women today are a product of society, rather than textual prohibition.
Naturally, Jews are wary of change, because we are ultimately rooted to the Torah, and it is difficult to call a Divine text transient, mutable, or, God forbid, archaic. These kinds of class discussions help us understand how to balance progression and adherence to the word of the Torah. Aside from the issue of tzitzit, which I personally do not find so pressing, I know several boys who are uncomfortable with the idea of women’s tefillah groups; many of them reject this movement simply because they are unaccustomed to it and have not taken the time to study the sources delineating the halakhot of tefillah. Confronting the opinions of these boys has made me want to go back to the root of our tradition, and educate myself sufficiently so that I am well equipped to debate combatants against change. I believe that the boys in my class have gained in equal measure. If not convinced, they are, at least, opening their minds to the notion of change and beginning to reformat their perception of women and their role in the Jewish community.
At SAR, our dedication to the inclusion of women within the education sector extends beyond having a coed student body learning in coed classes for all subjects. SAR is unique in that we have female Gemara teachers, who join our rabbis as models of serious Torah study. They show both male and female students that women are capable of a deep level of learning Torah, which, as a Jewish girl, I find to be very inspiring. These are formative years in which I am really establishing a vision of who I want to be and what I want to contribute to the Jewish community now and in the future. Seeing female teachers teach male and female students has made me realize that, even though women cannot necessarily participate in every Jewish practice, education is one front in which women can be, and I believe should be, equal to men.
Despite its benefits, there are some drawbacks to coeducation. There are times when it is difficult to go to class with boys. Boys seem more naturally inclined to criticize what they perceive as “dumb questions” or shortsighted resolutions to a problem in a gemara. This definitely inhibits girls, such as myself, from fully engaging in class conversations. When I feel confident in a particular insight of mine, I have no problem voicing it. However, I am more wary when taking educated guesses or offering my own interpretations. Over time, my comfort has increased, and I think this exercise in discomfort has been crucial to my growth as a competent Torah learner. There are still times when I am free to explore the text without these limitations, such as in hevruta, when I can pair up with one of my girl friends to learn the text. In class, though, I am challenged to dissect and interpret the text alongside my male peers. Although many girls naturally discount themselves and their scholarly abilities because gender inequality is a natural product of our tradition, learning in a coed environment has forced me to hone my confidence. Because I am physically sitting in the same classroom as the boys around me, which means I am in the same Gemara track, I can consider myself equally qualified to study the text.
Another issue that many people cite as a hazard of coeducation is that it leads to unseemly interaction with boys. I strongly disagree. The issue of sexual tension interfering with education has had little impact on my experience, although it is not an unfounded concern. Even though it is possible to get a little distracted, I think being in school together actually sublimates our natural desire to hang out with boys and relocates our interaction from surreptitious hangouts to the classroom.
Overall, my experience at SAR has made me comfortable with studying Torah and deep analysis of Jewish texts in the presence of boys, but it has also made me comfortable with being uncomfortable at times. Jewish coeducation is a system built on both tradition and modern values, and thus is often confronted with these dueling tensions. Grappling with certain halakhot that apply only to men strengthens my Jewish education and identity, and engaging in these struggles alongside my male peers assures me that women are not the only ones who are facing challenges in Judaism and halakha and that we are not the only ones accepting change.