The Pebble in the Pond by Rafi Sackville

Israel today The Pebble in the Pond

by rafi Sackville

the morning after the assassination of Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin in November 1995, I walked into a class of angry 12th graders. I was 38 years of age, and despite having found my feet in my chosen profession, I felt uncertain how to deal with such a crisis.

Yet, there I was, first lesson of the day with a group of kids on the brink of being drafted into the army, the country in crisis, and no one knowing how to react because who does after such a tragedy?

One of the girls suggested we all march to the Knesset and demand reform. Her classmates were in agreement. Her suggestion was obviously flawed; what influence can budding 18-year-olds have in the world of politics?

What I told my students then is something I learnt from a very wise man, Rabbi Chaim Bar-On, a former neighbor of mine.

He told me that with the world becoming smaller due to inter-connectedness, people had begun to place too much emphasis on areas in their lives in which they had no influence. As a result, their efforts had little effect.

He explained that whereas we should view our influence seriously, we would serve ourselves better where we to concentrate our efforts exclusively where it counts. He likened it to throwing a pebble into a pond. The pebble’s splash creates well-defined circles close to where it lands. These circles are our immediate family and close friends. Emphasize those people in our lives and work hard on those relationships, he told me. The further away from the pebble’s entrance into the water, the less definition and thus the less importance we should place on such relationships. How, he asked me, can we have influence over ill-defined and blurry circles of human interaction?

This is one of the main problems facing the world today: social media has found society placing undue value on distant, faceless relationships. The problem is only getting worse.

One of my students naively explained how being a Twitter subscriber to a celebrity gave her a feeling of closeness that, for all intents and purposes, does not exist.

I mention all of this because of the plethora of incidents occurring among the student population I work with. Incidents of bullying, trolling, and inappropriate messaging have become the norm.

I conducted a survey among my 11th graders by administering a questionnaire that rated their level of interaction on social media. One of the questions asked was: to what degree would you bully someone/anyone?

To the amazement of the class, one student’s rating was borderline criminal. Ironically, he is quietly spoken and popular with everyone. Who would have known or guessed?

I asked him to provide an example of his behavior. He did. I won’t describe what he actually did (it involved comments inappropriate enough to make the color black blush). The reaction by his peers was overwhelmingly negative.

When asked how they’d feel if they knew their “attacker” was this young man, they said they’d laugh it off as nothing more than a joke – which is not at all surprising, because who would take his actions seriously when they know who he is? Unfortunately, the world in which we live is full of faceless and nameless trolls unknown to their victims.

In other words, if you know someone well, you are less likely to be affected by their online shenanigans than if you don’t. If we apply the pebble in the water parable, we should “water-proof” ourselves against meaningless trolls. Yet we don’t.

My 10th graders have a group WhatsApp account for general messages. One such recent dialogue suddenly turned dark. The subject matter is not important. What is pertinent to this discussion is the fact that once the dialogue became heated, one of my female students voiced a fair, but strong opinion. In reply, a student, someone who had never spoken a word to this girl before, a boy she only knew existed by sight, posted a message telling her to do away with herself.

The girl was stricken. She took his stupidity seriously. She couldn’t come to school the following day; she couldn’t function for a week; she needed psychological consultation. Despite pointing out to her that her attacker was not worth his weight in salt, she could not be consoled. She even agreed he was not worth the bother. She said that having her name and the comment flying around cyberspace was what hurt her most.

Her sentiments cannot be dismissed. This is the cyber-plague individuals across the world have to deal with on a daily basis.

Seven years ago, my wife and I were invited to a television studio to be interviewed about our attempts to secure legal rights for our sons who were all in a special educational framework. Accompanying the interview was an article in the newspaper the following day.

A day after this, I was called by a close friend bemoaning the terrible content in the comment section of the article. Some had labeled us some very unpleasant things. My friend considered this an outrage. I told him not to sweat it as I never read the comments section, and I never took them seriously. “How could I not?” he asked me. I told him all about the pebble in the pond. He was somewhat mollified but not convinced.

In the real world, nothing has changed. The circles closest to the landing pebble in the pond must remain our main focus in life.

Last November, on the 26th anniversary of Rabin’s death, I gave a talk to a class of 12th graders on the pebble parable. They heard me out, but I felt as if the horse had already bolted from the barn.

For them, it doesn’t matter where the pebble lands. Whether the lines are well-defined or blurry makes no difference to them. They should be able to discern the difference.

Shouldn’t we all?

I’m sure you’ll agree.