“Yaakov, how did you hear that?” I asked, incredulous.
“I had bent down to tie my shoe, just a little past where they were sitting, and I looked up when I heard that exchange between the two of them.”
“Gosh, I wonder if they recognized you just now,” I said.
“I don’t think so,” Yaakov said. “It was pretty dark, and I didn’t make any eye contact. Did you Esther?”
“Not at all. I did see there was a circle of boys and girls, but I tried not to look at them. They made me uncomfortable. I don’t think they’d have noticed me. I was wearing all dark colors, even a dark snood. And today I’m in a sheitel and this cobalt blue dress, so I don’t think they would even realize I’m the same person, even if they did look my way.”
“I think the dark one was drinking too,” Yaakov said. “She’s the one who sent the bottle to Blondie. But she didn’t have that much. Actually, I did think of saying something. But I figured they wouldn’t pay attention.”
“I bet that blonde girl was hung over,” Esther said. “That’s why her head hurt. Alcohol really can be dehydrating, so she wasn’t making up a story about that.”
My husband came home from his shiur, and the four of us talked about what we (I) should do. Should I speak to the girls? Find out their contact information and call their parents? Phone the school and talk to the administration?
I thought of Mrs. W. and Sammy.
I decided to talk to the girls’ senior madricha, whom I know. She had told me that on Tuesday nights they had a “sicha” session where the madricha presented a certain topic, like “getting along with your roommates” or “belief in the World to Come.” They talked about everything from the mundane to the miraculous, and a lot of it was just open discussion about the week gone by. The girls called these sichot “let it all hang out” sessions.
The madricha was not shocked by what I told her, though she was not happy. The school had strict rules about drinking, and did not condone mixed gatherings. At the Tuesday sicha she talked about drinking – why people drink, what happens physiologically when someone drinks, what the risks and repercussions are. She spoke about peer pressure, and how to withstand it.
“I admit it,” one of the girls said. “I drink when I feel insecure. You’re right, drinking does make me lose my inhibitions, and I like that. But, maybe it’s not the healthiest choice.”
The madricha spoke about what other choices are possible. What can we do when we feel like drinking and it’s so tempting?
After a lot of discussion, the girls did not all commit to never touch another drop, but they did agree to be aware of the circumstances which would lead them to drink, and consider alternatives to drinking – like staying inside someone’s home instead of going to the park.
At the end of the session Short started to cry. “I hate myself!” she said. “I got drunk with friends because … because I didn’t think they really liked me, and … and I wanted them to like me, but I felt awful later. And I don’t think they liked me, they just ended up thinking I was a jerk.”
“But you’re not a jerk,” the madricha said. “You’re a girl who got caught in a social situation which made you uncomfortable. You responded by drinking as a way to feel more comfortable. But, it didn’t really work that way, no?”