“Although I’m still dyslexic and struggle with dysgraphia, I read and write, I have friends, and I make an impact. My t’filla was accepted. It is only that the Rebbe understood that it is necessary to ‘cook’ me properly, in order for the final product to come out better, and that’s why I thank the Rebbe and thank G-d for everything I went through in life.”
Interview by Menachem Mendel Arad
I THANK G-D FOR MY CHALLENGES
The first day of school: Yosef Chaim gets up early; he’s excited. “Today is your day,” he thinks. He puts his briefcase over his shoulder and walks excitedly into class, wanting to arrive before everyone else, to pick a front seat, to start anew. To be a boy who loves to learn, who does well, a beloved child.
Shortly before eight o’clock, Yosef Chaim went to the bathroom, so he will be as ready as he can be; so he won’t even need to raise his hand for anything not directly connected to the lesson. When he returned, he discovered to his dismay that his briefcase wasn’t there. Children in his class have thrown it out the window, into the yard.
Hurt, offended, humiliated, he quietly went down to retrieve his briefcase, ready to swallow his shame. The main thing was that the new school year should start out right, with him being a regular child, like everyone else.
When he went back upstairs, the teacher was already there. “Why are you late?” he asked. He was about to tell him about coming early, getting a seat, his briefcase, but the teacher did not let him continue. The teacher cut him off and said, “It doesn’t matter. Go to your place at the back of the class.”
A CHILD IN SEARCH OF MEANING
I spoke to Yosef Chaim Bolton, today a successful personal coach who helps young people who, for whatever reason, dropped out of school, to retrace their steps to the breaking points in their lives, to try to learn from them and to become stronger. Word of advice: you may want to prepare some handkerchiefs.
From the perspective of an adult, what kind of child were you, the kind that would be called today “kid at risk?”
“To the people in Kfar Chabad, I was a problem child. If you ask me what I actually was, I was bored. I lacked meaning.”
When I asked Yosef Chaim to explain “lack of meaning,” he feels compelled to revert to his role in his work with struggling youth. It hurts him to see parents and teachers who don’t understand how critical it is to the life of a child that he should feel he matters, that he does matter.
“It’s a very simple definition. A child whose teacher doesn’t think he has worth feels worthless. A child like that will do anything to feel a sense of worth, and at any price.”
Why did you feel worthless?
“Because when you don’t know how to read and write, when you can’t open a book and study, and you are in school, then you are lacking worth.”
REAL LIFE PAIN
When I try to challenge him with a question, whether he is conflating feelings with facts, he is not put out and readily pulls a horrifying story out of his memory drawer.
“At the end of eighth grade, I wanted to go to a certain yeshiva. I worked very hard to learn the material. I sat with my teacher, Rabbi Yaakov Assaraf a”h, who put his neshama into me and reviewed the material back and forth. I knew it well.
“I’ll never forget that test. The rosh yeshiva opened a T’hillim and said, ‘Read.’ I told him the truth, that I can’t read. The rosh yeshiva looked at me and smiled and said, ‘Then how do you want to learn Gemara?’ I said, ‘Right, I can’t read, but I catch on quickly. You can test me on the Gemara.’ But he wasn’t convinced and that broke me. I realized I was devoid of any worth.”
I decide not to be a friendly interviewer and once again, I challenge him with a pointed question: Do you think he should have accepted you into the yeshiva where learning inside the Gemara is what is done most of the day?
Bolton’s voice trembles. “Do you understand that there are children who just want to be part of what everyone else is doing? When a child goes to yeshiva, you need to see what he has, not what he doesn’t have. There is no child who does not bring something unique with him, a child who does not have something special. Believe me; I’ve seen hundreds of extreme cases of boys and youth. Every bachur has difficulties; it’s just that some know how to hide it better and there are those who hide it less well.”
AUSPICIOUS TIME
What was your social standing?
“Terrible.”
Do you want to tell me about it?
“My childhood revolved around abuse. I experienced a lot of abuse, physical and verbal. You could even say that abuse was my lot in life. It came from everywhere, from the kids and the teachers. Yes, those who are supposed to defend you. Even when I went to shul or on the street, I was surrounded by abuse.”
The conversation with Yosef Chaim flows and touches the most exposed nerves, the moments of life’s breaking points. The fighting and abuse became his daily fare. Somehow, he managed, clenched his teeth and carried on. He put up with it. But the next chilling moment that he experienced became a moment of personal building for him.
“On 7 Teves 5747, two days after Didan Natzach, the Rebbe announced it was an eis ratzon (an auspicious time) and suggested that people write what they wanted and he would take it to the Ohel. The Rebbe said that those in Eretz Yisroel could go and daven at holy sites like the gravesite of Rabbi Shimon in Miron and the graves of the Patriarchs in Chevron.
“I was very excited. I knew it was an auspicious time and what I really needed was an auspicious time. I needed Hashem to listen to my prayers. I had three requests, very simple ones. First, I should know how to read. Second, I should know how to write. Third, I should have friends.
“I sat and wrote a letter with all my heart, with lots of mistakes, in an illegible handwriting, with much effort. I remember it all today, down to the little details. I was so excited, so confident in this auspicious time. The next day, I got up early, excited. I would finally have friends! What had I asked for already…?
“I was standing near the entrance to the school and three boys came from the shikunim (an area in Kfar Chabad). I tested the fulfillment of my requests, the miracle. I said, ‘Good morning,’ to them. They hit me. I was devastated. I didn’t know where to bury myself, my shame, my faith. I decided not to go into school and went to the central shul. I opened a T’hillim there to pray to Hashem. I had wanted to read and saw that I still did not know how to read, not even with vowels.”
What a terrible story. How did it affect you?
“At that moment, I had a crisis of faith. ‘It’s all nonsense,’ I said to myself. ‘Nothing happened, nothing is true. There is no reason to anything. Do whatever you feel like.’ That is when my spiritual deterioration began.”
THE REBBE AND I
You know, lots of people who work with kids at risk point to a common denominator of all Lubavitchers, that all of them, no matter what they went through, love the Rebbe. You just told me about a crisis of faith in G-d and the Rebbe. How did you go through that break in terms of your relationship with the Rebbe?
Suddenly, in the middle of the interview, Yosef Chaim was at a loss for words. He was thinking. It took him time to respond. “I’m trying to find the words,” he finally says.
“Not long ago, I was sitting and talking with R’ Moshe Kahana, who is also an alumnus of the school in Kfar Chabad. I tried to think together with him, how it was possible that nobody wrote to the Rebbe about the suffering children. How was it that nobody wrote about me? Why didn’t I write to the Rebbe about myself (until that auspicious time)?”
What answer did you come up with?
“From the perspective of today, although we don’t see the Rebbe, the hiskashrus of the youth to the Rebbe is strong; it’s a bit hard to understand it, but to a certain extent, back then we saw the Rebbe as above everyone else, not someone accessible to a child in the sixth grade.”
Did you go to the Rebbe?
“Of course. I was there for Tishrei in 5752, 5753, and 5754. And you know what? I am embarrassed to say that I wasn’t really there with my nefesh and neshama. It’s complicated … also from the general perspective, how I perceived myself, how I dealt with the crisis of faith and the emotional disconnect that I made, no expectations equals no disappointments. I have no idea where my neshama was then …”
Did you have a moment with the Rebbe?
Instead of answering, Yosef Chaim sends me his picture with the Rebbe. I examined it, seeing a 13 and a half year old facing the Rebbe. He looks at the Rebbe and the Rebbe looks at him.
An amazing moment… how did it affect you?
“On the one hand, not at all. On the other hand, every which way.”
Explain.
“I’ll tell you about another moment which will explain it to you. On Erev Yom Kippur 5754, I got out of the subway in front of 770 with a sweater on my shoulders, without a hat and jacket. I saw a line of bachurim waiting near 770 to pass by the Rebbe. I debated whether to go or not. I felt that I couldn’t miss it and joined the line. Friends rebuked me, ‘What? You’re going to pass by the Rebbe like that?’ I told them, ‘Do you think that the hat and jacket can hide me, who I am?’ We all went past the Rebbe. We saw the Rebbe for a moment. And that’s it. Honestly, at the time, it did nothing for me. Sorry for ruining the story for you …”
You say it did not affect you at the time. Yet, you always have the Rebbe’s picture with you.
“Today, I draw endless strength from the picture of me with the Rebbe, from the Rebbe, from the Rebbe’s letters.
“Later, when I started working through the data, to internalize, to understand that all stations in life are part of the best route for me and that Hashem arranged it for me, I was able to go back to that time with my letter to the Rebbe, on 7 Teves 5747, to take in the pain and grow from it. To my delight and good fortune, I have moments, like that moment with the picture of the Rebbe, that I can go back to, and draw strength.”
BREAKTHROUGH ON THE WAVE BREAKER
Let’s reconstruct the route that you took to get back home. Can you point at something that caused you to go back?
“It was a very long process, with many stages, that actually is ongoing. Within the moments of ascent, there are descents too; and within the descents, there are moments of ascent. It’s a dynamic life. I can say that one stage in my journey was when I said to myself, enough, you are not taking any more blows. And in order to be a boy who is not a punching bag, I will be the one to deliver the punches. In order not to be the boy who suffers, I became the aggressor. In nature, the strong prevails. I took Shimshon’s approach, ‘May I die with the Plishtim.’ If I have nothing to lose, you will lose too. I reached a rock bottom level that I don’t wish on anyone.”
What message do you want to convey from that stage?
“Parents and teachers must know a twofold fact. First, a physically aggressive kid is basically defending himself, because he experienced abuse from someone stronger than he. He lets out his frustration against whoever was stronger than he was on whoever is weaker. Second, a child must be protected. A teacher or parent who does not provide protection and security to children will likely be raising, with their own hands, violent children in the best case scenario, and empty shells devoid of all sense of meaning in the worst case.”
What made you decide to come back?
“There was a period in which I walked around Kfar Chabad with a kippa not out of respect but in fear of the reactions. I didn’t keep anything and I lived in Tel Aviv, Teveria and Eilat.
“I can tell you that from a material standpoint, I didn’t lack for anything. Not money, not friends and approval from those around me, and not power. But it was then, in that calm period, that I found myself waking up in the afternoon in an apartment in Tel Aviv, a boy under 18, and thinking, ‘Okay, where do I go from here? Where do I want to get to? What are my ambitions in life?’
“I walked to the beach and sat on a wave breaker and thought until the realization floated to the surface inside me that G-d exists, in the world and within me, whether I want it or not. The question is whether I am willing to believe in Him or not. The significance of believing in Him is to know that ‘I am with him in the straits,’ that He is with me and I believe in Him and rely on Him and trust in Him, at every moment and at every stage in life.
“I chose to choose Him and at that point I began a slow climb up the ladder.”
Looking back, if you could have chosen a different path in life, what path would you have picked?
“Precisely the path that I took.”
Why?!
“When my son Mendel [Yosef Chaim and his wife Bracha have two children with CP. The oldest is Menachem Mendel, known as Mendul to all, and the younger one is Shlomo Dovid Chai – M.A.] attended school in Kfar Chabad, it was very hard for me to walk into the schoolyard. I’m an adult, not a little boy. I’m already a father. But a person’s feelings are stronger than himself. It was hard for me to stand in the yard, hard for me to stand in the entrance to the principal’s office, hard for me to enter the office. Every step brought me back to Yosef Chaim Bolton, the child. I was with my wife and at every floor tile I had what to tell her – here is where such-and-such happened with so-and-so and here with so-and-so.
“It’s hard, not just the past but the present too. I bite my lips every time but it’s what gives me strength, to deal today with the challenges that I face. The life that I lived gave me the inner strength to withstand challenges and decide: I am not quitting, I am not giving up, I am not throwing up my hands, I am not willing to fail.”
Forgive me for asking, but I’m trying to understand. You are saying that G-d gave you a hard life when you were a child so that when you married and had children you would be able to handle the hard life and challenges He would give you?
Yosef Chaim sighed. “I won’t lie to you. Obviously, when Mendul was a boy and I saw his friends walking and he had to be pulled in a carriage, it was hard.
“Raising Mendul was very hard. Then, when Shlomo Dovid Chai was born, I felt a real desire to just scream at the top of my lungs. But I realized that all the ups and downs are part of the trip, my journey, the journey that Hashem has prepared for me, the best one to bring me, my wife, and my children to the destination.
“Look, in retrospect I understand that G-d created me and knows me best. And I’m the type that likes challenges. The harder the challenge, the more I enjoy it. G-d made me such that if I had a banal life with an 8-to-4 job, I could not handle that life. I need a challenging life, a demanding life, one that requires me to go all out.
“When I am invited to speak to educators, when I meet with families experiencing difficult times, when I have to deal with someone that no one believes in, I know that G-d gave me a hard life in order to give me strength so I can understand and help others. This is my mission in life.
“My worldview is as the Rebbe taught us that a person experiences what he goes through in life for two reasons: one, because G-d knows that he can withstand the test and he receives the necessary strength to withstand the test. Second, because he can grow from it. In a sicha about the golden calf, the Rebbe explains that the greatest descent ever is really teaching us that what seems like a breakdown and descent is part of the journey. I am happy that I have gotten from G-d the brains to understand that all the descents, upheavals, and flat tires are part of the journey.”
BELIEVER AND COACHING OTHERS TO BELIEVE
Addressing me directly, he says, “G-d did not give you the tests that He gave me because maybe you would not have withstood them or you would have been shattered by them. Likewise, G-d did not give me your tests because maybe I would not withstand them or I would be shattered by them, rather than grow. Understand? G-d provides just what each of us needs, precisely, for our good.”
Going back to that painful moment that shook your faith: today, when you see that your prayer is seemingly not answered, how do you understand that?
(Firmly): “It is unequivocal, the prayer was accepted even if I am still dyslexic and suffer from dysgraphia, but I can read and write and I have friends, and I make an impact. My prayer was answered. It is only that the Rebbe understood that it is necessary to ‘cook’ me properly, in order for the final product to come out better. That is the cooking process that my soul needed, slow cooking. Thanks to the hardships and challenges that I went through, I turned into a personal coach (me’amein), and thanks to the hardships and challenges that I went through, I turned into a believer (maamin).
“I love HaKadosh Baruch Hu because He loves me, and He loves me because I love Him. I don’t love Him because of what He does or does not give me. I love Him because He believes in me, because He relies on me, because He entrusts me with jobs and challenges that are far from simple. I do not know where I would be, where my wife would be, where Mendul and our entire family would be, if not for the Rebbe, the one who gives us a proper outlook on life, to properly understand our relationship with Hashem.”
Where does the issue of preparing to greet Moshiach come up in your work?
“I am not one of those who screams ‘Yechi.’ I believe the work has to be done and not just said. On the other hand, I once met a friend who does not maintain the belief in the Rebbe as Melech HaMoshiach. I asked him, ‘Tell me, if your son had to undergo an operation, and an expert doctor was recommending to operate and the Rebbe said not to operate, what would you do?’ Of course, he answered that clearly he would listen to the Rebbe.
“I expressed my surprise to him, ‘So that is what we are, Chassidim who listen to the Rebbe, even when we don’t understand. So how is it possible that when we come up against something that does not make sense to us, for example what the Rebbe says about the Nasi HaDor being the Moshiach of the generation, and for some reason that does not compute for us in our minds or eyes, we suddenly listen to the expert and not the Rebbe?’
“The main thing is that we should be mekushar to the ‘head,’ and we should see the Rebbe, immediately now.”