Rabbi Dr. Tzvi Hersch Weinreb stood in front of his classroom as a brand-new high school teacher, facing every educator’s worst nightmareārows of bored, unresponsive students. He had tried everything: special prizes and awards, extra privileges, even outright bribes. Nothing worked. His greatest challenge wasn’t the subject matter he was teaching, but finding ways to reach minds that seemed permanently switched off.
The breakthrough came when a wise mentor shared an unexpected insight: “You can’t motivate students by giving to them. You must find ways to encourage them to give to others.”
Skeptical but desperate, Rabbi Weinreb approached his most difficult studentāa bright kid who had completely checked out academically. Instead of offering another reward, he made an unusual request: “I need you to help two classmates with their assignments.”
The student’s reaction was predictable: “Who, me? Why should I help those two dunces?”
But then came the magic words that changed everything: “You’re blessed with talent, and talented people have something valuable to share.”
Suddenly, the student’s entire demeanor shifted. “Do you really think I’m talented?” For the first time, he saw himself not as a problem to be managed, but as someone with something meaningful to contribute. He threw himself into tutoring his classmatesāand in preparing to teach them, he began studying harder than ever before.
Rabbi Weinreb points out that this powerful educational principle isn’t actually modern at all. It’s embedded in a fascinating dialogue from the Torah portion of Beha’alotecha (Numbers 8:1ā12:16), where Moses faces his own persuasion challenge.
As the Israelites prepare to journey through the desert, Moses approaches his father-in-law Chovav, otherwise known as Jethro, with a request to join them. His first attempt follows the conventional wisdom of motivation:
Chovav’s response is swift and definitive: “I will not go.”
But Moses doesn’t give up. In his second attempt, he completely changes his approach:
Moses was essentially saying, you have expertise that we desperately need.
Notice the fundamental shift. Moses stops positioning Chovav as a passive recipient of generosity and instead frames him as an essential contributor whose unique talents are indispensable. He’s no longer asking Chovav to be a taker, but to be a giver.
What Moses understood, and what Rabbi Weinreb discovered in his classroom, is that the deepest human need isn’t to receive, but to matter. When people feel their contributions are valued and their talents recognized, they don’t just participate; they excel.
This insight should transform how we interact with everyone around us. The employee who feels their unique perspective is valued will go above and beyond. The child who understands their role in the family’s success will rise to meet expectations. The friend who knows their support makes a real difference will be there when it counts.
It’s not about manipulation or false praise. It’s about genuinely recognizing what each person brings to the table and helping them see their own value. When someone believes in their importance and worth, motivation becomes internal rather than external, and that’s when real transformation happens.
The ancient sages tell us that Moses’ second approach worked. Chovav was convinced not by promises of what he would receive, but by understanding what he had to give. In classrooms, boardrooms, and living rooms around the world, the same principle continues to unlock human potential thousands of years later.
