Perception vs. Reality,Elki Rosenfeld

Parshat Vayigash is the final chapter in the "Yosef and his Brothers" trilogy, which began with the Torah telling us that Yaakov loved Yosef more than his other sons. Hence, he gave Yosef a ketonet passim (colorful tunic) which consequently set the tragic chain of events in motion. The brothers' hated (Vayisna'u) Yosef, threw him into a pit and, ultimately, landed Yosef in an Egyptian dungeon and brought unfathomable grief upon Yaakov.

The main questions of the entire saga is how could he [Yaakov]? How could they [the brothers]? Didn't Yaakov Avinu know that favoring one child would cause animosity in his other children? How could the brothers hate him [Yosef] so passionately that they were willing to kill him, and, though they let him stay alive, sold him to a caravan of merchants?

Was this a case of classic sibling rivalry? Did a father prefer one son and single him out for special attention? Did the brothers, therefore, hate the more beloved son?

The Torah can be explained on four major levels, P'shat, Remez, Drash and Sod, from the textual to the hidden. Chazal (our Sages) delve deeply into the inner recesses of the Yosef story and analyze every act to evaluate its meaning.

The Torah can also be understood on those same four levels with psychological insight. As you've read many times in this column, our forefathers were on a level way beyond our grasp. Yet, they were also human beings and not heavenly robots.

Here I will focus on the psychological and behavioral "How could " and not bring the vast interpretations of the master commentators on Torah.

Many stories are written in the Torah, and many others have been excluded. Hashem chose to write in the sacred Torah those events that affect us all eternally. Let us extrapolate from this complicated story what lessons we are to learn from Yosef and his brothers, starting in Vayeshev and culminating in Vayigash.

In order to grasp these very complex Parshiot, I will use updated contemporary examples to which we can all relate.

"My teacher hates me." "My parents hate me." "My brother is the favorite child, since he's the only boy. He gets royal treatment whenever he's home."

Sound familiar? Surely in one form or another, "__ hates me" resonates within each of us.

As a principal, how many times did a parent report to me, "My daughter can't get along with her teacher because Mrs. A. hates her? So can you please switch her into Mrs. B's Navi (Prophets) class? They always got along fine."

Saying that my parent, teacher, classmate hates me is a perfect example of teenage drama. Or is it?

I didn't coin the phrase but it's often repeated in psychological and sociological literature: "The Difference between Reality and Perception." What may at first sound paradoxical is a companion quote: "There is no reality - only perception." We create our own reality based upon what we perceive to be so, rather than what it is.

Let's revise all the " hates me" examples above to, "I feel that my parents favor my brother." "I feel that my teacher hates me." What the speaker feels - perceives - has become his or her reality. What we perceive about an important person in our lives impacts us in the moment and sometimes well into the future. This may be the case more often than one imagines.

The student who feels that her teacher hates her needs to have that bad feeling validated and proven untrue. How can you provide evidence that what a child (or adult) believes is not real?

In my early years of teaching, if parents ever told me that their daughter said I "hate" her, I would protest that it's not true. I would ask the parents to report to their daughter that I like her very much and cannot imagine why their daughter would possible think that I don't. After a few years of experience, maturity, the essence of something that you can't really put into words, a grasp of what really counts that guides you to do the right thing, I realized that if a student thought I didn't like her, it was my responsibility to change her perception.

I think this little vignette depicts the topic well. When a small child can't sleep because "there's a monster under my bed," saying, "no there's not" is meaningless and will not allay the child's fears. He or she will probably insist repetitively that there is so a monster in the room, because words alone can't prove that and will have no impact on the child's terrifying fantasy. But, what if that same parent showed the child that there are no monsters in the room by lying down on the floor, checking under the bed, opening all the closet doors and drawers and proclaiming that there is absolutely no monster in the room? I am almost certain that the child will smile in relief, say good night, turn over, and fall asleep without fearing the monster lurking over her.

Apply this to the adolescent who says a teacher or parent hates her, responding that it's not true changes nothing. I had to acknowledge to myself that I must be behaving in some way that caused the student to think I hate her, and then I faced the truth and asked myself if I really did like her less than some other girls. Then I tell the parent, "I do like your daughter. I need a little time to think why she feels otherwise." When the parents repeat this message to their child, it conveys the message that I hear and accept her feelings as legitimate and will be proactive in reevaluating my relationship with the student.

So, too, in Chumash, Leah felt hated (senu'ah) because Yaakov preferred Rachel. Yaakov expected and was promised Rachel as a wife, and Lavan tricked Yaakov so that he married Leah first. That alone could make Leah feel hated, knowing that she was not the wife Yaakov wanted. The Torah reveals Leah's emotions at being second-best by stating that she felt hated. I think that the Torah uses a powerful word - hated - to accentuate Leah's feelings and impart a lesson to us of how the less loved one literally feels hated.

Similarly, the brothers felt that Yaakov did not love them the way he did Yosef. Hence, they "hated" him.

I hope that this column imparted the message that how we treat one another can make that person feel, not just less liked, but actually hated. A friend I respect very much once commented that the more unlovable someone is the more that person needs to be loved.

Shabbat Shalom.

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