Business at an Early Age
- Dr. Lloyd
- 18 hours ago
- 4 min read
By Lloyd I Sederer MD
After school, 3 days a week, from when I was ten until 13, I dutifully walked about a mile from public school to a Shul (Jewish Temple) to take Hebrew lessons in preparation for my Bar Mitzvah, the Rite of Passage for a boy to become a man.
My Bar mitzvah, as I saw it, was a big, expensive party after the solemn Temple ceremony where I would dress in what looked like a fine, silk scarf and yarmulke (a small head covering that was difficult to keep on) to read from the Torah – in the Hebrew I had studied (but not learned) at those dreadful classes at the Hebrew School.
The Rabbi that taught my class was a distant, demanding teacher. There was to be no interruption (by me) of his monotonic instruction of the ancient language of Hebrew, with undecipherable characters, that was spoken 2000 years ago by the Jews - and in my time in Israel. Hebrew was a language I knew about when growing up that was never used by the Jews I knew. Or in my neighborhood (which had plenty of Jews), some who even wore yarmulkes.
Hebrew and Jewish prayer were never spoken in my home or at friends’ homes. What did I need Hebrew for? A five-minute Torah reading that no one wanted to hear. With no meaning or utility to me, a 13-year-old boy interested in basketball and girls. No use in my life and no meaning – that was what Hebrew School was about, I thought. I was there by parental demand when I wanted to be in the playground shooting hoops.
Trapped at the Hebrew school, I therefore turned my attention to starting a small business.
It was spring, with the of 4th of July approaching. Kids, especially boys, liked blowing things up. For teenagers that meant firecrackers. Not only the small ones on a string but also the big bang ones like cherry bombs and the sky-bound rockets of all varieties of colors and fizzles.
From kids in my neighborhood, I learned about where to buy these small explosives and rockets, which carried a fascination for me and my peers. So, I brought some “samples” in my bookbag to Hebrew School and showed them to my classmates, who were eager to see them and use them in their neighborhoods. They had ‘allowances’ meant to buy sweets and comics, but were also ready cash for other desirables, like firecrackers.
Soon I was going to the rooftop of a nearby tenement where boys older than me were selling firecrackers. My meagre allowance allowed me to start buying strings of firecrackers and others that made much more noise or flew into the sky with tails ablaze. My purchases, I soon found, were worth more than I had spent. My allowance blossomed into a steady cash flow that supported my other bad habits, like playing cards and betting on horse races. I had no shortage of fellow students who wanted to buy my firecrackers, which I clandestinely sold on breaks from class. I was a childhood entrepreneur!
Until one kid ratted me out to the head Rabbi.
Which I discovered when I was told to stay after school to meet in the Rabbi’s office. When I did, to my alarm, my father was there as well. I was given a dressing down by the Rabbi, while my father sat there impatiently. I was told I could be dropped from Hebrew School and not allowed to proceed with my Bar Mitzvah – which could hurt my family financially since my father had made downpayments on the Shul and the festivities that followed. But I would be given a chance to mend my ways, the Rabbi said, with no further misbehavior permitted.
In the car driving home from the meeting, my father said nothing. Not unlike him, since he hardly said anything to me except about chores when I was working in the family business. And he seemed to say nothing to my mother, since I would have been scolded by her.
No word that my firecracker business threatened my Bar Mitzvah was uttered in my home. Best I could imagine was that my dad said nothing to my mother. We proceeded to the Bar Mitzvah and the big hotel party that ensued, in Manhattan, no less (we lived in the Bronx). But I did have to shut down my growing business and once again live on a paltry allowance. I received no pay for spending many a weekend working in the family business.
I was glad no punishment came from my misdeeds. Best I could make of it was that my father’s son was becoming an entrepreneur, a businessman (like him) ‘in the works’.
Funny, I “played” at business and gambling until college was over, then almost not at all, except for poker games in medical school. My father remained a gambler – cards, horseracing, and the stock market - all his life. When he died, his playing the stock market was on the winning side (though he had periods of notable losing), which made for security for my mother. But cards, racing, and the stock market remained outside my interests for the rest of my life.
When my father sold the family business, which had done well, there was no turning to me to continue it on. My freedom, if you will, was gained from being a medical student. A good one at that so I was left alone to become a doctor, which made my Jewish mother very happy.
Lloyd I Sederer MD is a psychiatrist, public health doctor, and non-fiction writer.