We, I told them, your parents and I, are the most fucked up generation.
In the generation before us, I explained, the problem had not yet been born. In the generation after us, yours - the solutions have already begun to be invented.
We're right in the middle: we already knew we had a problem, but we didn't have exactly anything to do with it, so I'm pretty jealous of you. So I told them, and they seemed to agree. They even laughed.
"They" is a hall full of hundreds of young Haredim, candidates for admission to the Kodkod program, which offers young Haredim a fairly accelerated training track, it should be said, for the most prestigious technological professions and a very quick placement in units like 8200.
"I" is me. A man who, at their age, was a pretty natural candidate for these kinds of tracks, only there weren't. Ultimately, what? I find myself hosting an event to introduce them to the program. A beautiful circle closes.
I looked at them from the stage. But of young ultra-Orthodox and beloved people, the vast majority of whom do not know English more than at the basic level, and a large proportion of them, a little more than half according to the experience accumulated in the previous cycle, will write software for 8200 in eight months. I think it's totally crazy.
The plan is ambitious, no doubt. She is very trusted by the system, which is very beautiful. Most of the people who are supposed to make decisions about it – and here we are talking about mainly far-reaching budgetary decisions – are not entirely familiar with the human material, but they overcome prejudices and prevailing opinions, go for it and see results. How do I know? Because on the stage next to me as the moderator of the panel sat five graduates of the previous class. A year and a half ago, they were exactly in the same situation as the people sitting in the hall. ABC level. All five hold a majoring certificate, achieve achievements in the technological work they perform, win praise and make the system want more and more and more.
The plan is ambitious, no doubt. She is very trusted by the system, which is very beautiful. Most of the people who are supposed to make decisions about it – and here we are talking about mainly far-reaching budgetary decisions – are not entirely familiar with the human material, but they overcome prejudices and prevailing opinions
And they're all ultra-Orthodox, if you ask. Not only those whose place here is natural. There were Hasidim and Lithuanians and Ashkenazim and Sephardim, married and single, curly wigs of different lengths and velvet hats of different Titorah diameters. Hasidim who reported consulting with the Rebbe he encouraged, and others who said they didn't ask but it was okay, are more enthusiastic – and those who need to reassure their father-in-law and mother-in-law. Everything. Real ultra-Orthodox. At one point, one of the questioners pointed. I immediately saw that he was Chabadnik, so I jokingly told him: Yes, Mandy, please ask. And he said: Hello, my name is Mandy - in short, ultra-Orthodox.
These days are characterized by a debate, albeit restrained and curated, regarding the recruitment of ultra-Orthodox. Let's be honest: that's not what it's about. The promised tectonic movements are supposed to yield anxious warriors and change basic perceptions. Create an ethos and carry out a revolution. In my hall this week, no tectonic plates moved and no boiling lava was poured. What it did have were healthy, stable and good buds of what I have liked to crown for many years as the magic word of this whole issue and its ilk: process. Healthy, strong, stable, and one that happens from within.
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