I was working together with a teacher this week as he planned to try a new teaching method that would ask (and train) Middle School students to do some complex, independent work and to learn from one another. After considering different options, he decided to, as he put it, go into the deep water. He picked a choice with high risk but potentially high reward. And it could only work by trusting his students, by believing in them. The metaphor of deep water he used resonated with me this week as we read Parshat Noach. Noach’s story is powerful and disturbing, but ultimately deeply hopeful and grounded in faith and trust. It is a narrative about human violence and cruelty that prompts a terrifying form of justice. Yet while the narrative recognizes the human capacity for evil, things turn around because Noach has faith in G-d, builds the ark as instructed, and trusts that G-d will protect him, his family, and the creatures on board. Notice that Noach isn’t simply being saved by G-d. Noach must do long, hard work building the ark, and trust that by following the explicit directions G-d provided he will save himself, his family, and the world. The faith and trust Noach displays is mutual. Despite G-d’s regret at how His creation of the world and humans has turned out, saving Noach is an act of faith and trust that humans can do better, can learn, and are worth trusting. In the last week, I have observed a few students nearly giving up when the learning seemed too hard. And then I saw them, bolstered by their teacher’s belief in them and their teacher’s patience and love, slowly come around to continue the work. I also saw classes this week in which many students enthusiastically tackled very difficult texts and concepts, willing to go into the “deep water” where success isn’t a sure thing, where they will make mistakes and have false starts. The common thread in these cases was the faith and trust our teachers had in their students. As educators, our trust in students is foundational. This is what gives our students the strength to try something they cannot yet do. When they see that we think they can learn, and when they believe we are going to be there to make sure they succeed, it is amazing what strong, independent learners we can develop. Every day at Maimonides, across all ages, I see this mutual flowering of trust turn into great learning. Seeing the work of our students and teachers every day, I cannot help but be optimistic about our children. The narrative of the flood ends with the symbolism of the rainbow, a sign that G-d will not give up on humanity even though we will sometimes fail, and sometimes give in to fear or hate. It reminds us that trust doesn’t require closing our eyes to the complex and occasionally disappointing actions of people. Trust and faith see us through those dark and sad moments to the other side. Trust allows us to believe that obstacles are temporary and can be overcome. The learning that happens at Maimonides, both in and out of the classrooms, is no different. When adults trust and have faith in kids, the children have trust in us and faith in themselves. This is what we all must lean on when the road is difficult. If I had to name the one indispensable element of great education, it is that every adult, with eyes open, loves and trusts and has faith in every single child in our care. That is the deep optimism I see reflected in the narrative of Noach. Jacob Pinnolis Chiel Educator-in-Residence Acting Humanities Department Chair | 
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