Yeshiva Tuition Crisis: Whose Fault?

October 30, 2024

Financial Perspectives

Rabbi Kohn welcomed the young man warmly into his home. Tomorrow was Yossi’s bar mitzvah, and he was meeting with the Rav for some personal guidance and inspiration.

Several important-looking people were seated around the dining table, so Yossi lingered back.

“Here, just have a seat on the couch, and you can listen in. This gathering actually has relevance to you. These gentlemen are here to discuss the yeshiva tuition crisis.”

“We have a representative from four primary stakeholders: Mr. Schwartz is a parent in the yeshiva, Rabbi Silver is our school administrator, Rabbi Levi, who, as you know, is one of our star rebbeim, and Mr. Gold is chairman of the board and a communal philanthropist. As a yeshiva student, you round out the group perfectly.

Okay, Mr. Schwartz, please share your perspective as a long-time parent in our local cheder.”

“Sure, Bershus HaRav. The perspective of the parents is quite simple. Everyone understands that sending your children to Yeshiva is obligatory and vital. So, this becomes a matter of mathematics. I have six children: K”H, three boys, and three girls. If the school administration insists that I pay roughly $10,000 per child, post-tax, mind you, I need to earn an entire salary just to pay yeshiva tuition!

But I also need to pay my mortgage and buy food, clothing, health insurance, etc. It is unreasonable, actually impossible, to expect so much tuition from the average frum family. Some have over six kids, and some schools charge more than $10,000. The schools need to be fair with the parents. That’s it.”

“Okay. Du bist gerecht, Mr. Schwartz. Parents are mamish choking.

So, Reb Silver, as the administrator of our wonderful yeshiva, can you please address Mr. Schwartz’s tainah?”

“Yes. And I hope this is not too blunt, but there’s nothing to address here. That $10,000 you mentioned is simply the cost per student. Even though our building was donated, thanks to the hard work of my staff and Mr. Gold’s generosity, running a well-functioning school costs a lot of money.

To be even more plain, the overwhelming majority of your tuition dollars, Mr. Schwartz, goes directly to teaching staff—our wonderful Rebbeim, Moros, and the principals. They also have families and bills to pay. Cutting tuition would equal cutting Rabbeim’s salaries. Is that on the table here?”

An awkward silence spread, and Rabbi Levi’s face turned a deep, raging red.

“Reb Silver, du bist gerecht. We all know how hard you and your staff work, mamesh 24/7, to run the school while paying the bills. But, of course, our Rabbeim need to be paid. And more, not less.

Rabbi Levi. Can you add to that, please?”

“Thanks, Rabbi Kohn. And anschuldigs, Reb Silver, but even mentioning such a thing is highly offensive to all Rabbeim. We are grossly underpaid now, and most of us need to moonlight as tutors, camp staff, etc., to supplement our modest paychecks. We are not immune to inflation, either. Salaries need to be raised, not cut!

What we do is NOT unskilled labor, and being a top-notch Rebbi or Morah is exceedingly challenging and strenuous. We are proud and grateful to serve in this holy role, and no one expects to get rich here. All we ask is to be able to pay for our modest lifestyles with dignity.

For the talk about lack of funds, all we know is that the Pesach programs are full, the clothing boutiques are packed, and many people today live in mansions, vacation overseas, drive luxury cars, and wear wristwatches that cost hundreds of thousands of dollars. So respectfully, please don’t tell me our community can’t pay their Rabbeim and Moros. If Chinuch were a communal priority, there would be no money issue here.”

“Okay. No question, Rabbi Levi. Du bist gerecht. And I’m glad you are speaking candidly, even if this is getting a bit heated.

Mr. Gold, you are the board’s chairman and you donate most generously to the school and every other community initiative. May I say that Rabbi Levi meant no disrespect to you, of course? He’s speaking passionately about something we all care about deeply and meant his words about mansions and watches generally, not personally.

Can you please address his key points, however? I understand where he is coming from.”

“No apologies are necessary. I am on the school’s side, and the Rabbeim and Moros are definitely worth every penny and more!

However, it is easy to overestimate the capabilities of those who support the community and underestimate the stresses they endure. The money we donate does not grow on trees or fall into our laps. Building a business is exceedingly risky and stressful.

There’s a limit to how much we can give. As the rabbi can attest, I and the chaverim in my circle never say no or shut our doors. Sure, I could trim my lifestyle down. However, the communal needs far exceed what my pichifkes cost; ultimately, the first line of tuition obligation is with every parent.

And I give far more to tzedakah than I spend on my lifestyle. Far more. Are we not entitled to some level of comfort and convenience? Even some kosher pleasures here and there? I barely see my wife, kids, or that mansion you speak of. I feel stressed 24/7. The baubles and trappings are small consolation prizes to them and me for enduring the downsides of never-ending business and communal obligations.

We are here to fill the gaps in communal needs, not pay the entire bill. And if we expect people who kill themselves to build wealth to give it all away and not partake of the luxury it enables, very few would undertake the tremendous risk and stress in the first place.

So, who are we helping by blaming people who are already doing way above their obligation?”

“Du bist gerecht, Mr Gold. We know that you prioritize communal giving far beyond your comfort. Our philanthropists are exceedingly generous with their money, time, and support. Of course, we cannot expect them to jeopardize their businesses or begrudge them some pleasure and menuchas hanefesh.”

Yossi, who had been seen sitting quietly throughout this exchange, could not contain himself.

“But Rabbi Kohn! I don’t understand how these gentlemen can all be correct. Rabbeim must get paid decently, and administrators claim the school can only function with more funding. But the parents, like the philanthropists, say they can’t afford to do more.

How can all these people be right? Something’s got to give!”

“Ah, Yossi. You’re takeh ah kleege bochur. Du bist oichet gerecht!”

As Klal funding runs dry in this tight economy, fingers are being pointed. But sometimes, there’s no villain or bad boy; no one party is in the wrong or holds the key to an easy resolution. It’s just a tough situation. In that case, blaming others helps no one. Instead, all parties need to share some pain to keep things functioning until Hashem increases the shefah and things ease up. Because, ultimately, it must keep functioning.

For some ideas and perspectives on how parents can try to cope with tuition in these challenging times, click here.