Kitbag Questions

The other day we packed all the kids into the car and set out for the Malcha Mall in Jerusalem.

Zahava had a long list of things we needed to find, but one of our primary missions was to buy a pair of gym shoes for our daughter Ariella.

We went to an incredible number of shoe and sporting goods stores in search of something that would be both comfortable and functional. She tried on all the high-tech running/cross training shoes (all of which seemed to employ NASA-level engineering and materials), but she has a very narrow foot (like her mother) and none of the stores seemed to stock narrow sizes in the ‘more expensive than gold’ category of sneakers.  Maybe a lifetime of wearing sandals tends to widen the foot somewhat.

This left us to ponder the old fashioned flat-bottomed, canvas sided, high-top sneaker of my youth; Converse All-Stars. Sure, some kids in the 60s wore Keds and PF Flyers… but all the really cool kids wore Converse. I seem to also remember that the girls used to write on each other’s canvas sneakers (feel free to set me straight on that point).

Anyway, in the end she settled on a pair of purple high top canvas Converse All-Stars. Ariella was delighted with the selection (purple being her favorite color) and the style looked adorable on her. 

But, when we got home Ariella began worrying that her gym teacher (who is very strict) might not allow her to wear her new sneakers for gym since they looked so different from the typical modern sneakers. She informed me that he routinely yelled at kids with inappropriate footwear and made them take gym class bare-foot!

I assured her that these sneakers were perfectly appropriate for gym class. I patiently explained that generations of grade school, college and even NBA athletes had played in these sneakers, and that if her gym teacher took issue with her new footwear I would have a talk with him. This seemed to settle things for her and she skipped away, happy as a clam (I constantly wonder about the origin of that expression), in her new purple sneakers.

However, within a few minutes she was back with a statement which indicated to me that perhaps her integration into Israeli society isn’t quite complete: She said, “Since I have gym class tomorrow, maybe I should show the teacher my new sneakers today and ask him if they are OK.”

Up until this moment I’d assumed that the kids were much more ‘Israeli’ than either Zahava or myself. They spoke the language with unaccented ease… they effortlessly navigated the clerical nightmare of the Israeli schoolday… they even blended perfectly into their youth groups. But this statement revealed a remnant of Ariella’s American upbringing that was sure to mark her as an outsider.

There’s an old joke making the rounds that has been attributed to the late Henny Youngman:

A Jewish man pulls up to the curb and asks a policeman “Can I park here?”
“No” says the cop.
So the man asks “What about all these other cars?”
To which the policeman answers “They didn’t ask!”

I have no idea if Henny Youngman ever uttered this bit of humor, but the joke offers a deep look into that most Israeli of concepts; ‘The Kitbag Question’.

It seems that during army basic training soldiers are asked to do a fair bit of walking. Long marches up mountains and through valleys are the preferred method of gaining and holding a young soldiers attention… and as the training progresses, the distances and pack loads are steadily increased.

While the forced marches are often used as punishment for real or imagined transgressions, the unspoken truth is that they provide the best sort of conditioning available, and force untested soldiers to constantly redefine their self-imposed limits of endurance.

Within this framework of nearly endless marching in every sort of heat and inclement weather comes the inevitable simpleton who, when informed that the unit is about to embark on a particularly grueling trek, raises his hand and asks the commander, “Are we going to march with or without our kitbags (the pack that holds all the soldiers gear)?

A stunned silence usually follows, followed by the commander smiling cruelly and barking, “Yes, 20 kilometers WITH kitbags.”

The fate reserved for bright young soldiers who ask such silly questions is not even worth contemplating here.

Since the overwhelming majority of Israelis share the common experience of military service, an aversion to asking ‘kitbag questions’ seems to carry over into most other areas of their lives… and even becomes a basic lesson they teach to their children. The Henny Youngman joke perfectly illustrates this mentality.

As I explained all this to Ariella, a little lightbulb seemed to come on over her head.

Both our big kids have frequently complained of feeling frustrated at the way some of their classmates do things without asking… and get away with breaking rules. As much as I am ashamed to have taught my child this lesson… I gently explained to her that it is often easier to beg forgiveness than to ask permission.

I made it clear that this didn’t give her license to disregard rules willy nilly… especially rules that involve safety, discipline or manners. But it did give her more latitude to observe what other kids are doing and, within reason, become more assertive.

I hope I haven’t just opened a Pandora’s box!