The Many Problems of Rochel-Leah

"Yolen draws on family lore to tell this rousing historical tale of a Jewish girl determined to read despite prevailing norms in her 1830s Russian shtetl. "More than anything in the world, more than anything in God’s universe, Rochel-Leah wanted to learn to read." Approaching various family members for assistance, the protagonist finds that her female relatives haven’t been taught to read, while her male relatives say no or grow bored. A request to the rabbi initially seems another dead end, but after realizing that his ambivalent response leaves an opening, Rochel-Leah begins eavesdropping on lessons until he relents, finding divine will in the child’s drive for literacy. Ribbons of text—in English and Hebrew—wind across Henditirto’s digital renderings, which rely on paper textures and brushwork to create a layered effect that appropriately highlights the illuminating power of reading. An author’s note and glossary conclude. Characters are portrayed with pale skin. Ages 4–7." —Publisher's Weekly

"Rochel-Leah wants to learn to read, but she lives in a Russian shtetl in 1830. Only boys learn to read. When no one will teach her, she spies on the boys’ school. The rabbi decides to bend the rules. Eventually she becomes a teacher.

This picture book is a delight! The illustrations are full-page color and gorgeous, displaying the time period and community, as well as Rochel-Leah’s passion for literacy. The vocabulary is simple, with a few Hebrew words. End notes explain those words and the author’s relationship to Rochel-Leah. Ages 4-7."—Historical Novel Society

"Despite her deep desire to read the Torah like her brothers and the poetry her papa cherishes, Rochel-Leah’s dreams are out of reach. Growing up in a small shtetl in 1930s Russia, for her the cultural expectation is clear: education is for boys only. Not ready to accept that these rules can never be adjusted, Rochel-Leah seeks the help of both her parents and her rabbi. But when none of them can provide a solution, Rochel-Leah takes matters into her own hands. With determination, resourcefulness, and a little dose of creativity, Rochel-Leah finally finds the answer she is looking for. Yolen spins a powerful tale of perseverance and the pursuit of knowledge. Told with a careful balance between illustrations and well-patterned text, themes of gender equity and importance of education are evident throughout, according to the author’s note, "true-ish" story. Jewish cultural elements are folded into the narrative as well, with context clues always skillfully incorporated. Color and shape are used adeptly throughout to gently whisper messages of hope that pierce the darkness of Rochel-Leah’s current situation. Thoughtful design considerations, such as font size and layout, elevate the text and illustration, making this story an excellent choice for sharing and discussing. VERDICT With important themes, and careful crafting, this is worth considering for most libraries."—School Library Journal

"'The first problem Rochel-Leah had was that she was a girl.' This picture book relates a 'true(ish) story' set in a shtetl in Russia in the 1830s and inspired by a cousin of Yolen’s. Rochel-Leah wants to learn to read, but the cheder, or Jewish school, is only for boys. (Her mother and aunts can’t help her; her father and brothers won’t help her.) But perhaps rules can be bent…with determination, an open cheder window, and a rabbi who can be persuaded. A storyteller’s cadence ('It was very tiring standing on tiptoe, but she managed. Just') brings life to Rochel-Leah’s frustration and her tenacity. Similarly lively illustrations, 'made digitally from combining paper texture and digital brushes,' propel the story forward with frequent instances of words or letters swirling across the page. An epilogue-like coda and an author’s note establish family connections, and a brief glossary defines Yiddish and Hebrew terms."—Horn Book

"Jane Yolen tri­umphs once again in this touch­ing tale of a girl’s search for edu­ca­tion, knowl­edge, equal­i­ty, and enlight­en­ment. In a small Jew­ish town in nine­teenth-cen­tu­ry Rus­sia, girls were not giv­en the oppor­tu­ni­ty to learn to read. They were encour­aged to be sat­is­fied with a home-based life of cook­ing, sewing, serv­ing, and all the oth­er skills required for keep­ing house. But Rochel-Leah want­ed more. She want­ed to learn to read, because only through the writ­ten word could an indi­vid­ual stretch beyond the con­fines of her dai­ly life and begin to see the larg­er world.

Rochel-Leah approached each of her fam­i­ly mem­bers, but none of them were able to help. Her moth­er might’ve liked to help her, but she couldn’t read, either. Her broth­ers tried to teach her before rapid­ly run­ning out of patience. Her father didn’t under­stand why girls have to read at all. But Rochel-Leah was deter­mined. As a last resort, she approached the rab­bi, who was not enthu­si­as­tic, but from their con­ver­sa­tion she got an idea. She hid beneath an open win­dow at the boys’ ched­er and lis­tened care­ful­ly to the les­son. When the rab­bi dis­cov­ered the lengths to which she had gone in her quest for learn­ing, he told her that if she could hide from the inspec­tor who would report them to the author­i­ties if they were caught, he would teach her along with the boys. And this is the way that Rochel-Leah final­ly learned how to read.

Read­ers will get a glimpse of a time and place when edu­ca­tion was denied to many, when only a priv­i­leged few were allowed into the secret world of learn­ing. They will admire the grit and deter­mi­na­tion of a rare soul who would not take no for an answer when her desire was so strong. They’ll begin to appre­ci­ate and val­ue the oppor­tu­ni­ties they enjoy today and the rewards that come from ris­ing above challenges.

In an after­word, Yolen explains that the tale of Rochel-Leah is based on a fam­i­ly sto­ry. She also includes a glos­sary of Yid­dish and Yiddish/​Hebrew words. Fel­ishia Henditirto’s col­or illus­tra­tions are love­ly, evok­ing both Rochel-Leah’s dis­tress when she is denied oppor­tu­ni­ties and her pal­pa­ble joy when her dreams final­ly come true."—Jewish Book Council