In 1983 I decided it would be a good idea to become a psychotherapist. Being Chassidic, I wasn’t going to enroll in graduate school and enter a profession without the Rebbe’s blessing. I sat down and wrote a long letter. My letter explained how I had expected to be a professional when I was growing up. I tried teaching and volunteer work as a Chassidic woman, but these jobs didn’t satisfy my drive to achieve my dreams to be a professional. My letter was written like a proposal. I included my intention to continue to place my family first regardless of my work life.

A few weeks later, Rabbi Groner called. He gave me the Rebbe’s instructions for my studies and professional practice. The Rebbe said the following:

• Begin with your husband’s agreement to the plan.
• Conduct yourself with modesty at all times.
• Be in consultation with a Rabbi that specializes in these matters.
• If you meet these requirements, you have this blessing: “אזכיר על הציון” (I will remember you at the Previous Rebbe’s grave.)

At the very beginning, I consulted with a Rabbi in Crown Heights. He suggested that I find a Rabbi who specialized in medical and psychological issues. I found a Rabbinic authority who wrote books and consulted on medical and psychological ethics. I explained that I was following the instructions of the Lubavitcher Rebbe. He didn’t know what specific law the Rebbe was referring to, but he laid out a few areas for me to be careful about. One of the areas was shaking hands. The Rabbi told me: Although some Orthodox Jews would be lenient about social handshakes, this leniency would not apply to me as per the Rebbe’s instructions. As a Chassidic woman, I was expected to dress and conduct myself according to the standards of modesty and Jewish law regardless of my circumstances. There was no difference between Brooklyn, Jerusalem, or South Los Angeles.

After completing graduate school, I took a job working in South Los Angeles for Child Protective Services. On one of my first home calls, a father extended his hand in a handshake. I didn’t want to appear rude or unprofessional. I disclosed that as a Chassidic Jew, I was meticulous about not shaking hands. To my surprise, he replied: “I understand. I saw that in Brooklyn where I used to live. ” I’m sure that my compliance with the Rebbe’s instructions kept me safe during the four years that I worked for Child Protective Services. When we carry ourselves with respect, other people respect us as well.

The Rebbe’s blessing comes into play in my life over and over to this day. Again, I’m at a transition time in my professional life. The Rebbe, in his wisdom, is still advising me.