O pinion
We’re in a Shmita Year. So Why Aren’t American Jews
Talking More About Student Debt Relief?
BY RABBI EMILY COHEN
WHEN I FINISHED rabbin-
ical school in 2018, I entered
the “real world” with $40,000
in student loans.

I acted fast, prioritizing
repayment over everything
else. Within six months, I
paid nearly $10,000 to elimi-
nate interest, and I continued
allocating three times my
expected monthly payment.

Interest didn’t get much chance
to build, and when we hit the
pandemic pause, I was on track
to clear my loans in two years.

I am unbelievably lucky.

My parents were able to help
me with undergrad (due to
generational wealth resulting
from many Jews being coded
as white after World War II), I
had a scholarship covering half
of rabbinical school, and my
financial education set me up
to make the decision to throw
as much as I could at my loans
as soon as I finished school.

One of my closest friends?
Not so lucky. To pay the loans
he took for his advanced degree,
he would need to pay twice
his rent each month just to
scrape the top off the principal.

His best hope (and current
plan) is Public Student Loan
Forgiveness, but the problems
with that program have been
well documented, and it’s
nerve-wracking to watch his
balance go up each month as
interest continues to build.

When our
president campaigned, he acknowledged
the burden of student loans and
promised to forgive $10,000 per
borrower. Some are also calling
for student loans to be forgiven
entirely due to predatory loan
practices coupled with the
often-false promise made to my
generation that it was through
school (and the “good debt” of
student loans) that we would
reach financial stability. Yet the
White House announced this
week that a pandemic-induced
moratorium on loan repayment
will end in February.

While it’s never a good
idea to claim that Jewish text
has a single opinion on any
topic, debt is a subject with
clear limitations. In the book
of Leviticus, our ancestors
are instructed about shmita,
which literally means release.

One year of every seven, Jews
were to let the land rest and its
volunteer produce be eaten by
all. The instruction deepened in
Deuteronomy, with the call to:
... release, every possessor of a
loan of his hand, what he has
lent to his neighbor. He is not
to oppress his neighbor or his
brother, for the shmita [release]
of God has been proclaimed! ...

(Deut. 15:2)
As you might imagine, the
practicalities of shmita were
difficult to enforce and, over
time, the practice of shmita
largely disappeared from
Jewish life. It’s only in the last
few decades that it’s returned
to public consciousness. This
brings us to 5782.

This year is a shmita year.

Jewish organizations across
the denominational and polit-
ical spectrum are addressing
this with intentional slimming
down of programming and
with fundraisers to alleviate
medical debt (another shame
of this country). But I haven’t
heard many Jewish organiza-
tions calling for student loan
forgiveness. I don’t blame Jewish organi-
zations for having other
priorities. We’re going into year
three of a public health crisis
while reproductive justice, fair
housing, voting access and the
right of BIPOC simply to live
safely are all in jeopardy. And
yet? We’re a quarter of a way
through a tailor-made oppor-
tunity to bring Judaism to bear
on this pressing public policy
issue that deserves attention.

What if we were to apply
this one-in-every-seven-year
debt release to student loans?
What if, every seven years,
loan servicing providers had to
forgive debt? You go to school,
you pay a reasonable amount
for a maximum of six years after
graduation, and then you’re free?
Maybe that’s wishful
thinking considering the prior-
ities of our current society.

Here’s a more realistic thought:
cancel interest. Make student
loan borrowers pay back their
principal if you must, but make
it possible for their balance to
go down each month instead
of up. After all, we have that
instruction in the Torah too:
If you lend money to my
people, to the poor among you,
do not act toward them as a
creditor; exact no interest from
them. (Exodus 22:24)
Student debt affects people
of all ages but particularly
impacts millennials. I’ve
spoken to friends about what
they would do without the
weight of their student loans.

They would be able to save to
buy homes or pay their rent
without fear. They would quit
the higher-paying, corpo-
rate jobs they took to afford
to pay their loans and work
for nonprofits. They would
support their aging parents
and their young kids properly.

They would be able to think
beyond their next paycheck,
perhaps for the first time.

What a worthy release that
would be. l
Jewish youth started “riots” as a
counter-response, presumably
in order to “defend” against
the Arabs. The police found it
difficult to control the rioters.

At the same time, Hamas
was firing rockets on Jerusalem,
Tel Aviv and southern Israel.

During the riots, a 56-year-
old Jewish man was critically
injured by rocks thrown at his
head by Arabs and ultimately
died from his wounds. In Lod,
an Israeli-Arab was killed from
gunfire by a Jewish resident
during riots (the Jewish
resident claimed self-defense).

An 84-year-old Jewish man
died from his wounds in Akko
as a result of arson by Arabs.

Hundreds of people, both Jews
and Arabs, were injured, and a
great deal of property owned
by Jews was deliberately set on
fire and destroyed.

Here in our home, in the
villages of Karmiel and Misgav,
the rioting caused a great deal
of pain. Throughout several
long days, the lives of the Jewish
residents in the region became
difficult to bear. Driving on
the roads in the Galilee after
dark was so dangerous that
the police instructed Jewish
residents not to drive after
sunset. When the fire was extin-
guished, and when all that
was left on the roads were
burnt tires, the residents of
the region were faced with
a difficult dilemma. How do
we continue from here? The
residents of Arab villages in
the Karmiel and Misgav region
were our friends. Good friends.

We bought things from them
and ate at their restaurants,
and vice versa. Their children
studied together with ours and
Rabbi Emily Cohen is the spiritual
leader of West End Synagogue in
New York City, a podcast producer
and an artist.

Refusing to be Enemies
Jews, including life-threatening
riots, began in Jerusalem and
from there spread throughout
the country. The violence took
place in mixed cities (the Israeli
term for cities with both Arab
and Jewish populations), such
as Jaffa, Lod, Akko, Ramle and
Haifa, and in major intersec-
tions in northern and southern
Israel, including in Karmiel
and Misgav.

BY IDITH GAL
These events undermined
the Jewish residents’ feeling of
IN MAY 2021, the fire of hatred security and caused a great deal
grabbed hold of Israel. Violent of harm to the fabric of shared
events by Israeli-Arabs against society. In several places,
14 DECEMBER 23, 2021
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