Ilana Gadish: Tribute to Rav Kahn

Ilana Gadish

Today, I have written and re-written reflections on the beloved Rabbi Moshe Kahn, ztz”l, the foremost influential Talmud teacher of countless women, myself included. Much of what I want to say has already been said by many– how Rav Kahn held us to the highest standards, how he quietly, but powerfully educated not just one, but several, generations of female Torah scholars. How he took the job to teach the women’s Gemara shiur at Stern when very few people were willing to do so– how he did this not, as we say, bedieved (ex post facto) but entirely lechatchila (from the outset, ideally), believing in the importance of advanced women’s Torah study wholeheartedly. How he was utterly humble in this immeasurably impactful endeavor, not in a disingenuous way, but in a way that still leaves me baffled as to how to actually achieve true humility in one’s life as he did.

Someone once said to me (it was probably some YU guy) – “You know, if Rabbi Kahn hadn’t gone to teach the women of Stern College, and had he stayed at the men’s campus, he would have been one of the most prestigious rebbeim of YU, with a top shiur, and the highest acclaim.” I want to amend that sentence I once heard, and now reclaim it and rewrite it in my own words: “Because Rabbi Kahn went to teach the women of Stern College, he was one of the most prestigious rebbeim of YU, with a top shiur, and the highest acclaim.” You heard it here.

Someone once said to me (it was probably some YU guy) – “You know, if Rabbi Kahn hadn’t gone to teach the women of Stern College, and had he stayed at the men’s campus, he would have been one of the most prestigious rebbeim of YU, with a top shiur, and the highest acclaim.” I want to amend that sentence I once heard, and now reclaim it and rewrite it in my own words: “Because Rabbi Kahn went to teach the women of Stern College, he was one of the most prestigious rebbeim of YU, with a top shiur, and the highest acclaim.” You heard it here.

Here is the true brilliance and beauty of his career. Rabbi Kahn was not discriminatory in who joined his classes. Every woman who wanted to learn was welcome. Some came with years of Talmud study, some came with no formal Talmud training. Together with this openness, he also held the highest of standards for his class- not by force, not by fear, but by a gentle insistence that we were more than capable, and with an impassioned belief in the capacity of all humans, regardless of biological sex, to achieve the highest level of Torah study. I recall him saying to us something like this: “I once taught the brightest students at Yeshiva College, and I now teach the brightest students at Stern College. There is no difference in their capacity for Gemara learning, intellect, or analytical thinking skills. Anyone who wants to achieve Talmud Torah on the highest level can achieve it.”

With such an intense focus on intellectual understanding, you might think the class or his persona would be one of cold technical emphasis, all about the text, but not about the person or about personal growth. This was the farthest from the truth. His interest in psychology and psychoanalysis infused his teaching, even if you didn’t realize it. Compassion and empathy, paired with rigor, was behind both his methodology and his understanding of the text. In class or in the Beit Midrash, he was careful, patient, and waited to hear our thoughts and analyses. He lit up (I recall the particular expression upon his face) each time when a student reached an understanding- the “aha” moment of his students was his greatest pride and joy.

I remember the first semester I took his Advanced Talmud course, I studied for days for the first bechina (exam). We got our tests back. I got a 70. I left to the restroom and I sobbed (SOBBED!) – here I was abandoning a pre-med track to pursue Talmud study full time, and I got a SEVENTY!? I was utterly inadequate. I came back to class as it was ending, and Rabbi Kahn saw me in the hallway and asked me what was wrong. “Rabbi Kahn!!! I only managed to get a 70 on the test! I am basically a failure! I should switch down to Intermediate.” He looked at me with his always calm, clear expression, and he said to me words I never forgot. “Ilana, you are not a failure. Getting a 70 means you understood 70% of the material perfectly, 100% of the way. You can’t abandon the course just because you didn’t yet master 30% of the material!” His words changed my life, kept me going in my studies, and his approach changed my perspective on mistakes, growth, learning, and most importantly, teaching. Today I say these same words to my students whenever they feel they have fallen short of their own expectations. In the end, I had the great privilege of becoming Rabbi Kahn’s TA for his undergraduate class, helping grade those same exams I once believed were a sign of failure, but in actuality were an exercise in growth and persistence.

The last Torah I heard from Rabbi Kahn was on a zoom shiur presenting him with divrei Torah and messages from hundreds of women who wanted to express their gratitude, hakarat hatov, to him. He recounted a midrash I have heard him teach several times- the midrash of how a baby in utero is taught kol ha’Torah kulah - all of Torah - while it grows in the womb, but right before birth, forgets it all completely. He loved this midrash, even if it was a somewhat tragic one, because it reminds us that even if we forget it, the capacity for the beauty of Torah is within us, the capacity for goodness is within us (he shared this from a psychological and philosophical perspective as well) as long as we put in the care and effort. Rabbi Kahn, thank you for your care and effort.