Last night I was truly privileged on many levels to attend a very special and noteworthy graduation. I have to admit that even though I was overjoyed by the event, it was, in some ways quite bittersweet. I am referring to the final graduation of Shearim Hebrew Day School.

Last night I was in attendance at the graduation, because my son Dovid graduated from the school. It gave me a lot of nachas to see him at this special time. I was also proud to see Natan Ross also graduate and it was wonderful to see his parents Doug & Shonna so happy and proud.

Everyone of the over twenty graduates of the school had reason to be proud of themselves. Every one of them traversed a long and rocky road to get to this special ceremony. Children from virtually every Jewish day school in Toronto whose special needs and unique learning abilities directed them to this very special school. Shearim was a school that built self-esteem, gave dignity and educated the children who, for one reason or another, were square pegs in round holes.

We listened to the words of the principal as she announced the background of each child and where they would be going next year. It was worth noting how children came from the gamut of schools to get to Shearim. Students from Eitz Chaim, Bialik, USDS, the public system, Chaya Mushke School and others were able to learn together, to play together, to laugh together and to grow together.

One would think that such a thing is not a big deal. They are all Jews. Why should they not all get along together? However, while it seemed just normal to the kids that they could all get along with each other, regardless of their background, it does not appear to be the same for us adults.

You see, the evening was bittersweet because the decision was made to close Shearim this year and last night’s graduation was the last one that this wonderful school would ever have.

Why?

Well, some would tell you it was the deficit, others might say it was the dwindling student body and a third would say that both reasons are true.

You see, however, as Mr David Diamond interjected by his spontaneous speech at the ceremony, money problems are certainly not the issue and a dwindling student body not the cause, but rather an effect.

So what was the issue? The bottom line, I believe, boils down to statements made by people of authority that had nothing to do with the education, nothing to do with deficits or student body- but rather of religious observance, environment and tradition.

Yes, what our kids can do, we cannot do.

Our kids have the ability to see Jews as Jews, to care for each other regardless of the teachers wearing skirts or not, the amount of kipot or the religious affiliation of the parent body, staff or educators.

These statements, as lashon hora (read bigotry) has the habit of doing, started the ball rolling and eventually led schools to not refer their students to the school they need, but rather to stay and be “mainstreamed”. This is not the place to discuss if mainstreaming is better than segregating students of special needs, for; in this case, it is truly not the issue.

There are times when for the greater good we Jews need to see beyond our own way. In this case, there is a need for a school that will give hope to the kids (and parents) with special needs.

Jewish kids from public school and yeshivot were able to come together and become self assured, strong in their belief in themselves and able to cope with the demands of Jewish education.

Shearim gave its students a real shot at a future as productive, proud Jews. Yet, we adults seem to have not been able to get past the sectarianism, sinas chinam and stereotyping. That hatred came to a head last night when Shearim was forced to close its doors on all of the children who need it.

My son graduated from Shearim. He is off to the next stage of his life. Yet, I cannot help but wonder what of all those students who will not have a Shearim (or similar school) to turn to? Can it really be that our internal strife will allow us to sacrifice these children? That we can accept that our dislike, mistrust and fear of each other is such that we will allow our children to be sacrifices to the god of divisiveness?

I know that I often write and speak about the importance of unity, of getting along, of caring for our fellow Jews. I know that I stress it, perhaps too often. Yet, here it is and this time its effect is so profound, so devastating that we really need to take a step back, pause and think about what we are doing to each other.

I am not a master educator, I do not know if mainstreaming is better then segregating in the area of special needs. But I do know that the students I saw last night and over the past number of years who were fortunate to be educated by Shearim have been given a real shot to be successful. They can and have proven it.

Yet, in this case, the question is a smokescreen blurring the real issue of sinas chinam and this time our kids are paying the price, a price none of us can afford.

It was a bittersweet ceremony last night, I saw the dignity in my son’s face as he received his diploma and I have seen little in my life to compare to that. Yet, I cannot help but wonder what of the others, the one’s whose opportunity for self-esteem, dignity and hope were squashed by our small-minded hatred.