We also benefited from the elevated teaching and friendship of Professor Samuel J. Konefsky, one of the top constitutional law scholars in the country. He was born in Russia and came to the United States by ship when he was eight. In the course of that trip there was an accident and he was blinded, which made his teaching and scholarship all the more remarkable. As I recall, he wrote three major books. On the first day of his class, he told us that because of his blindness students could interrupt with questions or comments when he spoke, but they had to show respect to their fellow students, whom they could not interrupt.
* * * * *
There was a friskiness, an antsiness, to yeshiva students, perhaps arising from their being in classrooms from early in the morning until late at night. Borrowing I suppose from the give and take that permeates advanced yeshiva courses in Talmud, the Orthodox fellows were prone to interject their comments, at times interrupting the lecturer or fellow students. I had the sense that, in the main, their teachers were energized by these exchanges.
I do not know whether the ad hoc minyanim for Maariv that cropped up in hallways and even classrooms were as well appreciated. Along with the kosher food that was available, they certainly did add to the religious Jewish ambiance on campus.
Interestingly, the Political Science department included two Orthodox faculty members, neither of whom had a Ph.D. One of these was Isaac Handler, who later became a lawyer and businessman. He taught constitutional law. I believe that during this period he was also the principal of the Brighton Beach Yeshiva. Although he could be acerbic, he was an excellent teacher. The other, whose name I shall not mention, was one of the poorest teachers I had at Brooklyn.
Generally, I was liked by my teachers. Students were required to take either music or art and each of these subjects was a challenge to me. Whatever skills I may have lie in other directions. I chose music and the course was taught by Jan Meyerowitz, a fairly well-known composer. Examinations consisted of classical music being played on a Victrola, with students required to identify specific movements. When I told him there was no way for me to take such an examination, he responded that as the record was being played I should simply write how I reacted to the music. I received an A in the course.
For the language requirement I took two courses in Hebrew, as did most yeshiva students, presumably because they would be a snap. With one I did well. The other class was taught by an instructor who was a member of a non-Orthodox congregation and did not like Orthodox students. As I guess happens everywhere in higher education, students would mull around and speak before the bell sounded and the class began. This teacher resented the pre-class buzz and once proclaimed that “This is not an Orthodox shteibel.” My quick and perhaps inappropriate retort was, “Why don’t you sit there like a dummy as those who go to a Reform temple do, so that we can learn from your example.” He gave me a B.
A small number of Orthodox students participated actively in extracurricular activities, including student government and the campus newspaper. Allen and I did not. We were not interested and certainly there was not enough time. But we enjoyed the Brooklyn College experience and greatly benefited from it. Years later, I taught from time to time at Brooklyn and always had a good feeling when I returned to the campus.
