Social workers’ constructions of child risk and protection in the Ultra-Orthodox Jewish community

Abstract

Summary

Social workers’ perceptions regarding child risk and protection tend to rely on universal criteria that may differ from the perceptions of minority groups. The Ultra-Orthodox Jewish community in Israel is a strictly religious, segregated, close-knit community with idiosyncratic values and norms that differ from those of social workers in the country. This qualitative study aimed to explore social workers’ perceptions and ascribed meanings of child risk and protection in Israel’s Ultra-Orthodox Jewish community. To this end, 30 in-depth interviews were conducted with social workers working with this community.

Findings

The study identified four distinct primary areas of risk and protection for children in Israel’s Ultra-Orthodox Jewish community: spirituality, collectivism, segregation, and hierarchy. Each of these areas encompasses factors of both protection and risk.

Applications

The study’s findings highlight the gaps between the Ultra-Orthodox Jewish community and social workers who adopt Western universal views regarding child risk and protection. This article advocates a context-informed approach when dealing with minority communities. Adopting such an approach can contribute to better cooperation between professionals and their clients from minority groups and advance the well-being of children.

Keywords

Social work context-informed perspective multiculturalism spirituality child risk child protection Ultra-Orthodox Jewish community

Perceptions and definitions of child risk and protection are derived from theories based on research, clinical experience, and common knowledge. According to Henrich et al. (2010), the vast majority of research about human nature and development is based on samples from countries that are Western, educated, industrialized, wealthy, and democratic, and that do not necessarily represent the majority of human society (Korbin, 1981; Korbin & Spilsbury, 1999). Their findings call into question our ability to generalize definitions of risk and protection to non-Western populations, since many cultures have different and sometimes opposing perceptions and definitions for what constitutes risk and protection for children (Korbin, 1991). Recent research refers to the significant impact of culture and context on risk and protective perceptions (Fernandez & Fogli, 2009; Nadan et al., 2018; Seager, 2009). Fakunmoju et al. (2013) describe different areas relating to the influence of context and culture on risk and protective perceptions, among them: the child’s attributes (e.g. the child’s gender poses risk in different contexts), the family (e.g. families with more children may be considered to be at risk in Western societies), health and sickness (e.g. different cultures differ in their attitude toward sudden infant death syndrome), spirituality, and how to react to risk (i.e. even after a circumstance was defined as a risk, cultures differ in the way they react and deal with it). The tendency of professionals to adopt a universal view of risk and protection creates a gap between them and clients from minority groups, who espouse different definitions regarding what constitutes such factors. The resulting discrepancies can cause errors in assessment, prevention, and intervention and contribute to a lack of client-cooperation (Nadan et al., 2018).

The Ultra-Orthodox Jewish community in Israel

Ultra-Orthodox Jewish communities are strictly religious groups that regard themselves as responsible for safeguarding authentic Jewish heritage. Israel’s Ultra-Orthodox community consists of more than one million people, constituting almost 12% of the country’s population (Malach et al., 2018). Israel’s Ultra-Orthodox community is comprised of diverse groups and sub-groups which, despite their differences, share a number of common attributes that endow them with a shared identity (Caplan & Stadler, 2012; Friedman, 1991).

Strict observance of Jewish law is a central characteristic of the Ultra-Orthodox community, which tends to follow the more stringent interpretation of Halacha—the system of Jewish laws and norms that envelops almost all aspects of a person’s life (Caplan & Stadler, 2012). Ultra-Orthodox Jews believe in a God who looks after, intervenes in, and controls the life of each and every being. They ascribe great importance to the spiritual realm, which they value more than the physical realm (Friedman, 1991). Many of the men in the community are not employed; instead, they devote their time to the study of Jewish texts and the performance of religious duties (Berman, 2000). Religious leaders play a major role in and have immense influence over the lives of community members (Lightman & Shor, 2002).

The Ultra-Orthodox community is a collectivist society. Its members maintain close and extensive social ties and assure each other mutual assistance. In this community, the interest of the whole is more important than the interest of the individual, which is expected to conform to the community’s norms (Friedman, 1991). Ultra-Orthodox Jewish families are patriarchal, have clear gender roles, and are considerably larger (M = 7) than the average family in Israel (Malach et al., 2018). As a result of the large number of children they tend to have, the fact that many men do not work for a living, and the lack of an educational background among most Ultra-Orthodox Jews in Israel, this population is one of the poorest in Israel (Berman, 2000).

To preserve its unique identity, the Ultra-Orthodox community employs a combined strategy of segregation and avoidance. Community members tend to live in Ultra-Orthodox cities or in neighborhoods populated solely by Ultra-Orthodox Jews. They have their own education system and a unique way of dressing, and they maintain strict supervision over the content consumed by that the community, including strict opposition to the virtual media (Freund & Band-Winterstein, 2013). Avoidance is also the approach employed vis-à-vis sexuality, as reflected in the absolute separation between males and females beginning at a young age. Speaking about sexuality is taboo, particularly among children and adolescents, and sexual education is provided only shortly before a couple marries (Caplan & Stadler, 2012). Although the Ultra-Orthodox community maintains ties with general society and makes use of its services in areas such as health, welfare, and finance, it keeps these interactions to a minimum. Recent years have witnessed a trend of change and openness regarding contact with outside secular circles in different areas. Nonetheless, segregation remains the dominant approach (Freund & Band-Winterstein, 2013).

Social workers and child risk in the Ultra-Orthodox Jewish community

The strategy of segregation has impacted the community’s attitude toward the state’s social services, creating an intricate system of community organizations that provide services that are consistent with the community’s values, in which counseling is undertaken by rabbis or informal therapists from within the community (Lightman & Shor, 2002). The community is concerned about the possibility of social workers having a negative religious influence, which is a concern that intensifies when the professional comes from outside the community (Freund & Band-Winterstein, 2013). The past decade has witnessed an increase in the number of social workers coming from within the Ultra-Orthodox community. Most were educated in designated training tracks in which different cultural adaptations occur (Baum et al., 2014). In parallel with the entry of an increasing number of Ultra-Orthodox social workers into the field, there has also been a rise in the number of Ultra-Orthodox clients and a more positive attitude toward social services (Caplan & Stadler, 2012; Freund & Band-Winterstein, 2013).

The research base pertaining to the Ultra-Orthodox Jewish community is deficient in general (Rier et al., 2008), particularly when it comes to perceptions of child risk and protection, with few studies having been conducted on this issue so far. Shor (1998) describes how Ultra-Orthodox parents refer to scenarios of child abuse and risk from a religious perspective. Buchbinder and Shoob (2013) studied the unique interactions between child welfare officers and rabbis, which they perceived as an “essential partnership” (p. 204). Nadan et al. (2019) coin the term “spiritual risk” to refer to a major risk factor articulated by Ultra-Orthodox parents: concern regarding a possible decline in what they perceive as their children’s level of spiritual well-being. Other studies note a tendency among Ultra-Orthodox Jews to refrain from reporting incidents of child maltreatment to social services (Attar-Schwartz et al., 2011), and a general legitimacy enjoyed by corporal punishment among Ultra-Orthodox Jewish fathers (Gemara & Nadan, 2020). Still other studies refer to changing trends in the community and to a new openness to treating child risk and cooperating with social services (Freund & Band-Winterstein, 2013).

The unique context of the Ultra-Orthodox community elicits the assumption that definitions of child risk and protection in this community may differ from those of social workers, who come to embrace the hegemonic cultural value system through their professional socialization. The present study’s aim is to contribute to the field of child protection by considering the constructions, perceptions, attitudes, and beliefs of social workers working with the Ultra-Orthodox community regarding child risk and protection. Our exploration was guided by the following research questions: (1) How do social workers working with the Ultra-Orthodox community perceive child risk and protection in this community? (2) How do social workers working with the Ultra-Orthodox community attempt to prevent and intervene in risk situations? (3) Do the perceptions of child risk and protection in Ultra-Orthodox communities espoused by social workers who are members of this community differ from those espoused by social workers who are not members of the community, and if so, in what way?

Methods

The present study employs the context-informed perspective, which stresses the role of environmental context in studying individual development and seeks to consider socio-political, historical, economic, religious, spiritual, and other contextual elements (Shalhoub-Kevorkian & Roer-Strier, 2016). The study’s qualitative methodology aims at achieving a holistic understanding of the phenomenon by means of investigating experiences, perceptions, attitudes, beliefs, and meanings that are influenced by varying contexts (Denzin, 2017). This approach relies on the perspectives of members from within the community to understand the perceptions, beliefs, and behaviors of a specific cultural group (Creswell, 2012). The researches applied the thematic analysis method, which offers a method for identifying themes (patterns) in a dataset, and for describing and interpreting their meaning (Braun & Clarke, 2006; Patton, 2015).

Participants

In-depth, semi-structured interviews were conducted with 30 male social workers who work with the Ultra-Orthodox community in Israel. The rationale behind choosing only men stemmed from fundamental differences in the socialization and professional paths of Ultra-Orthodox women and men. The cultural expectations of boys vary significantly from those of girls in the Ultra-Orthodox community. For example, boys are much more restricted in terms of their ability to acquire an academic degree such as social work. The researchers assumed that some of these gender-based differences may influence the level of professional socialization and assimilation with the view of mainstream social work and therefore justify independent studies (notwithstanding, a recommendation for a future comparative study). Fifteen of the interviewees defined themselves as Ultra-Orthodox, and the other 15 defined themselves as non-Ultra-Orthodox. Of the “non-Ultra-Orthodox” group, eight interviewees defined themselves as Religious Zionists (“national-religious”), and seven defined themselves as secular. All interviewees were social workers employed by state social services in the field of children at risk. The interviewees held varying positions (administrators, family and community workers, child protection officers, etc.) and the number of years of experience working with the Ultra-Orthodox community (M = 13.76 years) was diverse. The initial interviewees were selected based on a previous acquaintance with the researcher, followed by the use of a snowball sampling method.

Data collection

The interviews were conducted between 2016 and 2018 by the first author, a doctoral student and a social worker who is a member of the Ultra-Orthodox community. The interviews took place at locations chosen by the interviewees (typically at their place of work) and lasted an average of one and a half hours. In addition, the interviewees completed a demographic questionnaire.

The interview guide was developed based on previous research projects that dealt with risk and protection in minority groups (for example Nadan et al., 2019) and was edited and adapted to this specific group after two pilot interviews. The guide covered the following topics: (1) Perceptions regarding child risk and protection (e.g. What in your opinion endangers or protects Ultra-Orthodox children?); (2) Ways of preventing and intervening in situations of risk for children (e.g. What pathways are available for you to prevent or intervene in cases of risk for Ultra-Orthodox children?); (3) Dilemmas and challenges when working with this community; and (4) The training required for working with Ultra-Orthodox Jews (What would you recommend for the training of social workers who come to work with this community?).

Data analysis

The interviews were recorded and fully transcribed with the permission of the participants. The thematic analysis method (Braun & Clarke, 2006) guided the analysis of the interviews. In the first stage, the researchers immersed themselves in the data in order to gain familiarity with its content. The data were read and re-read in order to achieve this goal. The second stage involved open coding in which units in the text that were relevant to the research topic were recognized and identified. Later on, connections and hierarchies between the codes were identified via axial coding until theoretical saturation attained (Denzin, 2017). The analysis was conducted using Dedoose, an online application for analyzing qualitative data. The interviews were conducted in Hebrew. The excerpts included in this article were translated into English by a professional translator.

Trustworthiness

In order to increase the study’s reliability, a peer debriefing was completed, an audit log was kept, and member checking was performed. During the peer debriefing, an independent analysis was performed, followed by a joint analysis. The group consisted of a variety of researchers, including experts in the field of qualitative research, individuals working in the field of child protection, and members of the Ultra-Orthodox community. The varying perspectives provided a wealth of angles for the data analysis, and the discussions of the findings continued until mutual agreement was reached. The audit log included the documentation of the different research stages and reflective parts (Denzin, 2017). Member checking was conducted at various stages of the study. This first occurred during the data collection process, when participants were asked to respond, clarify, and elaborate on issues raised in previous interviews. In addition, when the analysis of the interviews required clarification, the interviewees were approached and questioned regarding the meaning of their responses (Morse, 2015).

Findings

The analysis of the interviews revealed a complex picture regarding the constructs of child risk and protection for children in the Ultra-Orthodox community. Some interviewees described certain situations as contributing to risk, whereas others perceived the same circumstances as contributing to protection. The analysis identified four main areas of child risk and protection that are distinct for the Ultra-Orthodox community: spirituality, collectivism, segregation, and hierarchy. Each of these areas encompassed factors of both protection and risk. The different themes do not stand alone but instead, are intertwined in various ways.

Spirituality

The Ultra-Orthodox community attributes great importance to religion and spirituality and values the spiritual realm more than the physical one. This approach has many implications for issues relating to child risk and protection.

Spiritual risk

Analysis of the findings indicates that social workers described spiritual risk as a major risk for children from the perspective of Ultra-Orthodox parents. Spiritual risk is the threat to the child perceived by parents, stemming from a decline in his or her religious or spiritual level. Meir, an American born Ultra-Orthodox social worker who works with the state social services in a mixed city populated by both Ultra-Orthodox and non-Ultra-Orthodox residents, describes what Ultra-Orthodox children and parents perceive as risk:

What is dangerous for them? The secular world is like a foreign world, a foreign planet, a foreign country, you don’t want to be secular. It is dangerous to be like a secular or to act like a secular, talk like a secular … the children absorb it from their parents, this is not for you, you know, it can endanger you, your spirituality. It’s like inculcated in them. (Shlomo)

Meir describes the Ultra-Orthodox perception of injury to their child’s spirituality as risk. Ultra-Orthodox parents socialize and instill this caution in their children by stressing the need to maintain a distance from anything that resembles secularism.

Despite the community’s perception of spiritual risk, some of the non-Ultra-Orthodox social workers interviewed thought that parents needed to be more lenient regarding the spiritual level of their children. Ben, a non-Ultra-Orthodox social worker working in an Ultra-Orthodox city, describes the problem of parents who do not lower their spiritual expectations from their children:

When the child begins to ask questions and begins to complain – “I don’t want to go to yeshiva, I don’t want to dress Ultra-Orthodox” – the problem is that they [the parents] do not manage to loosen up the demands, perhaps even only in terms of dress. Maybe we won’t insist on the hat and the suit, but you’ll wear a white shirt, or something like that. The absence of this kind of a discourse can result in an explosion. (Ben)

Ben’s belief that parents should be flexible regarding what they perceive as their child’s spiritual decline may testify to a misunderstanding of the immense value that the community ascribes to spirituality.

Spirituality as protection

Some of the participants viewed observance of religious laws and adherence to spiritual values as protective factors for children’s well-being. Below, Moshe, an Ultra-Orthodox social worker and a director of a family therapy service for Ultra-Orthodox families, replies to the question, “Is there something within the Ultra-Orthodox community that contributes to the well-being of children?”:

As an Ultra-Orthodox man, I think that following the path of Torah is a guarantee for maintaining a proper and healthy way of life. I think that this is a strength … the prohibition of malevolent gossip, for example. This means a better and more inclusive society. The importance of the family causes the person to revolve around family life, with all the resulting virtues pertaining to the person’s personal advancement. Somewhere, he is obligated. There is even the commandment of “honor thy father and thy mother.” Someone in an Ultra-Orthodox community who conducts himself according to the Torah knows that his children will respect him. (Moshe)

Moshe perceives the observance of Torah laws and a spiritual way of life not only as a religious duty but as a means to a better, healthier, and more protective life for children.

Belief in God

For the Ultra-Orthodox community, belief in God is a central value. God is perceived as an entity with unlimited power that controls and intervenes in all aspects of people’s lives and does everything for good reason. This belief was viewed as a protective factor by Avi, a non-Ultra-Orthodox senior social worker in the management of the Ministry of Welfare.

Faith is an important strength. People with faith feel as if they have been fated to this or that. It is God’s will. That is their situation. When parents reconcile themselves to a certain situation, the fact that everything comes from above and that this is our fate and we do not always have control – this allows faith to function as a brake, which I regard as very important. (Avi)

Although Avi does not necessarily believe in God, he recognizes that such belief serves as a source of resilience for parents. On the other hand, other non-Ultra-Orthodox interviewees perceived belief in a higher power as posing a risk to children because it leads to passivity, as reflected in the words of Noah, a non-Ultra-Orthodox social worker:

In my work, I have on numerous occasions encountered parents speaking about a traumatic event that occurred [in the family], and when I asked them about their understanding of what happened, the answer I received, which was rather amazing from my perspective, was that we don’t ask the questions – among us, we do not ask why it happened. I am actually trying to find all kinds of factors – emotional, behavioral, and inter-generational – to work with in order to understand it, and the parents treat it like a test, like something that God gave us to contend with – a kind of decree that we don’t ask about. (Noah)

Noah is critical of the Ultra-Orthodox tendency to view difficulties as the result of God’s actions. Western mental health professionals encourage clients to develop an internal locus of control (the perception that they have control over the outcome of events in their lives). In this context, Nadav perceives religious belief that places the locus of control outside the client (in the hands of God) as posing risk to children.

Collectivism

The Ultra-Orthodox community is a collectivist society, and this fact has different implications with regards to child risk and protection. This section focuses on risk and protection for the individual within the community, deviance from the community’s norms, and the view of emotions.

The community

The community is a major source of support and assistance for families who encounter difficulties raising their children. Asher, an Ultra-Orthodox social worker who works with the state’s social services, describes this dynamic as follows:

When there is a family that needs help, you see immense mobilization, starting with the fact that there is a lot of help in the house … This is a badge of honor for the community, that they are not deterred by difficulties. They can look difficulty in the eye, because their values are much greater than the difficulty. You can see undertakings by which people here [in the social services] are simply amazed … Such things happen frequently within the community: when you succeed in mobilizing the community with you, your power increases many times over. This is what has been learned here over time: the creativity and the solutions you can find there are amazing. (Asher)

The strong sense of belonging that exists in the Ultra-Orthodox community functions in conjunction with the religious commandment of mutual assistance. Asher recommends mobilizing this resource to enhance their work with Ultra-Orthodox clients. Other interviewees, however, identified elements of risk in collectivism. Samuel, a non-Ultra-Orthodox administrator of a family service office in an Ultra-Orthodox neighborhood, recalls the situation surrounding a divorced woman who was actively pressured by the community.

The shaming that occurs in the Ultra-Orthodox community is terrible. My wife has an Ultra-Orthodox cousin that is her age. She has 12 children, and she wanted to get divorced from her husband … and they [the community] decided to physically eliminate her. I’m not talking about exerting pressure on her, [I am talking about] crushing her, or beating her. She fled her home, left all 12 children, and it took her 10 years until she was able to get divorced. In the course of those 10 years, she became a walking wreck. She has health problems, and today she is ruined. The power of the community is something else. They boycotted her. Her mother did not speak to her for 10 years. These are extremely severe measures. (Samuel)

The collectivistic nature of the community enables power holders to oppress individuals by exerting immense pressure by means of the community and the close family.

Deviance

The collectivist nature of the community demands that the individual conforms to the norms of Ultra-Orthodox society. Both non-Ultra-Orthodox and Ultra-Orthodox interviewees repeatedly described the community’s difficulty containing children who do not conform to the accepted social norms. As Dan, an Ultra-Orthodox social worker working in the criminal justice system, explains:

Attention disorders is an area in which adolescents are at very great risk. Why? The Ultra-Orthodox take Ritalin less. Treatment carries a major stigma, which means that many people do not get treated. The Ultra-Orthodox community is an enveloping community as long as you are in the mainstream. The moment you deviate a little, are a bit unique, or have some kind of special need, it can no longer function. When you are on its assembly line, it works extremely efficiently. Perhaps the most dangerous thing for a child is to be atypical in some way, or to have a physical or emotional disability, or an impairment, or something. It’s like in Africa – a herd of animals in Africa. As long as you are within the herd, your situation is relatively good. The moment you leave the herd, even for a little bit and you’re no longer in it, you will be devoured. (Dan)

Being different in the Ultra-Orthodox landscape is perceived as an enormous risk. Choosing not to contend with certain risks, according to the interviewee, may actually stem from an effort to protect the child against deviance, which is perceived by parents as a greater risk.

Segregation/closedness

The Ultra-Orthodox community attempts to segregate itself from general society. The purpose of this segregation is to safeguard the values of the community against outside influence. Although the Ultra-Orthodox community makes use of various basic services from external secular sources, it keeps such imports to a minimum. This section demonstrates some of segregation’s impact on child risk and protection.

Sexuality

One issue that received significant attention during the interviews was the Ultra-Orthodox community’s attitude toward sexuality. Talking about sexual matters in the Ultra-Orthodox community is taboo, especially among children. As a result, children are not provided with guidance about how to avoid or to deal with sexual abuse. Many of the interviewees related to this failure to talk openly about sexuality as a source of risk for children. Amos, a veteran non-Ultra-Orthodox child protection officer, articulated this view as follows:

There was a matter in which we investigated dozens of Ultra-Orthodox children there because there were Ultra-Orthodox guys who were hurting large numbers of them [sexually], in exchange for a piece of candy or gum. There was such exploitation of children, and the naivety there was something else. This is amazing, you say to yourself. Where is this naivety coming from? Do they simply not educate them? (Amos)

Amos, who has many years of experience treating sexual abuse in the Ultra-Orthodox community, is still surprised at, and judgmental and critical of, the community’s failure to educate children about sexuality and safety. He does not seem to take into consideration the community’s cultural logic underlying this educational approach.

In contrast, Shlomo, a social worker from the Hasidic stream of Ultra-Orthodox Judaism, depicts refraining from talking about sexuality as a means of protection:

I know one of the Hasidic streams that is extremely closed about this issue – they’re really strict. For example, swimming in a public swimming pool is prohibited … They say: We don’t want to make things hard for people. We want to help them. We know the troubles, the problems, and the results, and it makes sense to be strict. They do not touch each other. At yeshivas, they are very strict about it. Two [boys] do not sit on the same bed. There are all kinds of boundaries and restrictions that are meant to avoid situations. I think it does prevent a lot of problems. (Shlomo)

Unlike Western psycho-educational discourses that advocate open dialog regarding sexuality, the above-quoted interviewee describes a cultural logic of prevention based on the elimination of situations that may arouse sexuality. This is the goal of enforcing complete separation between the genders and constructing extensive guidelines and restrictions: to prevent sexual risks.

Social workers

Members of the Ultra-Orthodox community perceive the social work profession as espousing values that differ from their own value system. As a result, they view all contact with the social services with suspicion and caution. When asked “What do Ultra-Orthodox parents regard as risk factors for children?” an Ultra-Orthodox social worker named Shimon who lives in an Ultra-Orthodox city responded as follows:

[You know] what’s risky? Social workers. Ultra-Orthodox parents possess an understanding that they know what to do with their children, and that no one should interfere – certainly not someone who comes from outside, and especially not a social worker. (Shimon)

Shimon’s words reflect an ironic phenomenon. Social workers, whose role it is to protect children, are perceived by the Ultra-Orthodox community as a risk factor due to their contradictory value system. Ultra-Orthodox interviewees pointed out that their opposition to the social services stems in part from the social worker’s identity as an outsider. Isaac, a new Ultra-Orthodox social worker working with the state’s social services in an Ultra-Orthodox city, speaks of a process that is underway, which he views as positive:

There’s been a change to the department, a change that everyone understood needed to be made. To work with Ethiopians, you need Ethiopian [workers]. To work with the Ultra-Orthodox, you need Ultra-Orthodox [workers]. And with the secular, you need secular [workers]. It requires peeling off eight hundred shells to reach a professional level, to achieve an objective perspective. So instead let’s start at the end. And it changed; it was a change that had to be made. Because without faith in social services, the trust was terrible. There has been a change in the trust here. (Issac)

Isaac explains that the lack of trust on the part of Ultra-Orthodox clients stems from the different culture and value system they embrace. Contrary to Ultra-Orthodox social workers, non-Ultra-Orthodox social workers need to do a great deal of work to reach a position of objectivity. According to Yitzchak, this gap causes a lack of trust on the part of the clients. Once there is a social worker who shares their culture, the clients can trust the system.

Internet and media

One of the main arenas from which the Ultra-Orthodox community isolates itself is the Internet. From the community’s perspective, the Internet is a dangerous source of content through which external influence may be exercised. Yehuda, a non-Ultra-Orthodox social worker, views this isolation as a protective factor:

Even though the whole issue of smartphones and the Internet, and exposure to all kinds of problematic content and things like that, exists among the Ultra-Orthodox population, it is much, much less. And even if a child does something like that, he knows he is doing something that is not good. He knows it’s not okay, and therefore, he tries to overcome it or to confess. He feels that it is not good for him. This is very protective. (Yehuda)

Yehuda explains that in addition to the technical difficulty faced by Ultra-Orthodox children attempting to access virtual media, they internalize the message underlying the ban, and the resulting understanding serves as additional protection. In contrast, Tzvi, a veteran non-Ultra-Orthodox social worker who has spent years working to develop services for the Ultra-Orthodox community in the realm of sexual abuse, views this closedness as having a problematic impact. When asked his opinion regarding the community’s perception of being closed off from the Internet as a protective factor, he responded as follows:

We know that [this closedness] has pros and cons. Because when you are closed off from day-one, the sexual realm becomes taboo. And then you have all those elements of voyeurism and curiosity. (Tzvi)

The above-quoted interviewee views the community’s efforts to avoid coming into contact with challenging sexual content as an approach that actually puts children at risk, due to the stronger desire and curiosity to come in contact with this content it creates within them.

Hierarchy

Another theme related to child risk and protection that emerged from our analysis of the findings is the hierarchical nature of the Ultra-Orthodox community and family structure.

Rabbis

Rabbis play a central and significant role in the lives of Ultra-Orthodox families. Every family has a personal relationship with a rabbi, who guides them through many of life’s decisions. Avi, a non-Ultra-Orthodox social worker who has done innovative work with the Ultra-Orthodox community, portrays the complexities of trying to secure rabbis’ cooperation in dealing with issues pertaining to child risk and protection:

The Ultra-Orthodox sector is greatly influenced by rabbis. Overall, the more connected you are to rabbis, the better the feedback you receive from the clients … We often do not do things without a rabbi. [In social services] in Jerusalem, we have a committee of rabbis who also sit on a planning and treatment committee (meetings at the Social Services agency during which the plan of treatment is decided on) and help parents enter different frameworks … If there is an enlightened rabbi, he can give advice. There are also a lot of rabbis who studied psychology or social work, and they [members of the Ultra-Orthodox community] go to them. They do not go to the social services. It is also a kind of brake on the outbreak of serious problems … Unfortunately, some rabbis are opposed. And there are rabbis who say, unequivocally: I’m sorry, and with all due respect, but you are not going anywhere. I will help you. God will help, etc. We also have phenomena of that kind. (Avi)

Avi describes the great influence rabbis have on their followers and the many advantages of cooperating with them. At the same time, he appears to adopt an ethnocentric position by differentiating between rabbis who are aligned with social services and Western psycho-social discourses and therapies, and rabbis who oppose the formal forms of treatment.

Corporal punishment

Corporal punishment for educational purposes is a common child rearing practice in the Ultra-Orthodox community and is based on values relating to the familial hierarchy. The vast majority of interviewees opposed this practice. Eliyahu, a non-Ultra-Orthodox social worker, describes the problem as follows:

Interviewee: When we look at what goes on inside the heder, [we see that] there is no supervision. There is no one to tell them that the punishments they give are sometimes prohibited.

Interviewer: What kind of punishments?

Interviewee: Punishments – sometimes blows, sometimes on their fingers, like we would hear about 100 years ago in the United States or England. (Eliyahu)

The above-quoted interviewee appears oblivious to the cultural and contextual justifications for corporal punishment and attributes the practice to the lack of external supervision. Yonatan, an Ultra-Orthodox social worker, was more empathetic toward the practice of striking children for educational purposes:

[In terms of] physical violence against children, which exists more, I think that much of the negative view stems from a specific perspective and narrative, which is very contemporary, Western-academic, and professional, and which stems from cultural and social movements. That is to say, when I say physical violence, it sounds shocking. But when you break it down into means of education and the like, there is a cultural and ideological issue of what is permitted and what is prohibited. I am not troubled by every touch. When there are many more children, the culture adapts new rules for itself. And if it is a choice between whether to have more children or to have stricter rules of caution, the choice as far as I am concerned should be the Ultra-Orthodox way of life. (Yonatan)

According to Yonatan, the context of the Ultra-Orthodox family, and the large number of children in particular, creates different needs that require alternative educational means. From his perspective, it is not valid to apply recommendations derived from a Western context to the Ultra-Orthodox context.

Sibling supervision

The large number of children in Ultra-Orthodox families creates a sibling subsystem with its own hierarchy. In many Ultra-Orthodox families, older siblings, primarily girls, assume responsibility for younger siblings, supervise and care for them, and are perceived as parental figures of sorts. Ron, in addition to other non-Ultra-Orthodox interviewees, referred to this circumstance phenomenon as a risk factor, stressing the responsibility borne by these older sisters:

When there are extremely large families, girls – big sisters – [become] an object as opposed to a subject. That is to say, they have a role. I don’t know how much personality there is behind the role. Many times, it is as if the personality is erased in the role. That is, the role of the big sister, and not her personality. She goes and takes, goes and brings home … The older sister has a role that is very significant, a bit like an assistant mother. But it is a role that is objective. It is not a role of “I like this and I’ll do it, my sister likes something else … ”. (Ron)

Ron’s criticism of the arrangement by which older daughters are responsible for their younger siblings is based on Western values of independence and self-actualization. A different perspective is articulated by Mendi, an Ultra-Orthodox social worker:

Our reality is one of older siblings. There are a lot of siblings, and the older siblings take care of the younger siblings. It’s clear that this exists, and it works, without a doubt. This reality – that my four-year-old son is downstairs [in the street, outside the apartment building] with his 10 or 11-year-old sister and their eight-year-old sister, etc. – means a few more pairs of eyes watching the children. (Mendi)

Mendi’s words explain how the context of the Ultra-Orthodox family having many children brings about the norm of girls taking care of their younger siblings. In these situations, having the older girls watching over the younger children is not a risk but rather protective for children.

Discussion

This article presents a study that explored perceptions of social workers working with the Ultra-Orthodox Jewish community in Israel. The interviewees noted a variety of factors that are perceived as creating risk or protection for children within the Ultra-Orthodox community. The analysis of the findings yielded four main themes: (1) spirituality, (2) collectivism, (3) segregation, and (4) hierarchy. The different themes were described as factors of both risk and protection by different interviewees, reflecting a complex and dual construction of risk and protection for children.

Social workers tend to determine risk based on universal indicators (Barry, 2007), and the literature on risk tends to focus on factors such as large family size (Murray & Farrington, 2010), a low level of parental education (Sonego et al., 2013), parental unemployment (Pissarides & Wadsworth, 2013), corporal punishment (Gershoff & Grogan-Kaylor, 2016), and the lack of access to educational and enrichment activities (Marchetti et al., 2016), among others.

Different models have been proposed to incorporate environmental components into the study of child development (Bronfenbrenner, 1979; Williams et al., 1989). Regarding risk and protection for children, Fakunmoju et al. (2013) refer to different contextual and cultural elements influencing risk and protective perceptions. In a similar spirit, this article presents findings that illustrate how a different context, in this case the Ultra-Orthodox context, generates significantly different terms, definitions, and perceptions of what constitutes child risk and protection. In fact, some of the interviewees in our study perceived many of the known “universal” indicators for risk as protective factors. This contrast in perception challenges the applicability of rigid indicators for risk assessment among minority groups, as has been found in other studies (Fisher-Borne et al., 2015). Social workers who were interviewed for our study and were inattentive to the ramifications of the contextual differences tended to assess their client’s behavior in the context of ignorance, often leading to pathologization and blaming. Our findings highlight the importance of considering the child’s context in order to assess risk to children, protect children, develop proper prevention and intervention programs, and refrain from oppressive practices. We would like to offer insights that emanate from our findings and broaden the importance of considering context in the study of child risk and protection.

The findings reflect a duality of definitions of risk and protection. The same situations were perceived by some as risk and by others as protection, highlighting the complexity and the unpredictable nature of risk and protection. This duality further challenges the prevalent norm of relating to rigid pre-described indicators for risk assessment (Barry, 2007). The fact that certain circumstances were described in opposite ways further emphasizes the need to include context in assessments of risk and protection vis-à-vis families and children from minority groups.

Furthermore, the stance of the observer had a strong effect on the manner in which this duality of risk and protection was perceived in our study. Interviewees from the Ultra-Orthodox community tended to view circumstances as protective whereas non-Ultra-Orthodox interviewees tended to view the same circumstances as posing a risk. The research base of the insider/outsider debate regarding the pros and cons of caseworkers from the same or different cultural group focuses primarily on the efficacy of treatment and the preferences of clients (Cabral & Smith, 2011). The literature tends to overlook the interpretive nature of the observer with regard to the subjective approach to definitions of risk and protection (Garb, 1997). As seen in our findings, differences in perceptions between insiders and outsiders may create bias, thus negatively affecting the ways in which social workers assess and intervene in cases of children at risk.

The observer’s subjective nature vis-à-vis risk and protection inevitably involves the dynamics of power relations. The findings indicate that the interviewees’ perceptions regarding risk and protection affected their practice in essential areas, such as out of home placement, resource allocation, enforcing mandatory legislation, and clinical intervention. In all of these areas, whereas the client’s opinion may have been considered, the final decision was in the hands of the social worker. The ecological model and other environmental models have been criticized for under theorizing the roles of power relations in the child’s environment (Houston, 2017). As a result, Shalhoub-Kevorkian & Roer-Strier (2016) incorporates counter-hegemonic theories into the ecological model to achieve a more critical view of social phenomena. Nadan et al. (2013) also assert that multicultural practice requires critical awareness of the social–political context. Our findings reinforce the need to consider issues of power in the contextual assessment of child risk and protection, especially with regard to minority groups. Social workers possess significant power to influence the well-being of children and their families. Their encounter with clients is characterized by an uneven balance of power, giving them precedence in terms of whose definitions regarding risk and protection are valued and enforced. This study highlights the importance of social workers developing reflexivity toward their own often privileged social locations, attitudes, beliefs, and perceptions, as well as toward the potential gaps between them and their clients. This reflexivity can aid in social workers’ efforts to avoid abusing their power against communities that possess a different contextual and value system.

The study’s findings can help social workers engaged in work with the Ultra-Orthodox Jewish community, and other close-knit religious communities, develop cultural competence (National Association of Social Workers, 2015). Lum (2011) introduces the notion of “inductive learning,” which holds that professionals need to listen to the meanings that clients assign to their lives and their experiences within their unique life contexts. Blom (2009) also maintains that social workers should adopt an un-knowing stance toward their clients and should try to understand the idiosyncrasy instead of relying on known universal theories. This article reinforces the importance of incorporating clients’ voices into the theoretical discourse on risk and protection, as well as into practice. Further research is required to determine which norms are cultural and context bound, and which are exploitations in the disguise of culture.

Limitations of the study

This study has a number of limitations. First, as in many qualitative studies, the sample may be influenced by a sample bias stemming from the snowball and convenience sampling method used. Second, the interviewees consisted solely of male social workers, thus providing a limited perspective of what social workers in the field perceive, especially due to the fact that social workers in Israel and around the world are mostly women (Mallinger et al., 2017). We assumed that differences between male and female social workers may arise due to major differences in terms of their socialization path, and discrepancies between social expectations between men and women in the Ultra-Orthodox community. We recommend that future research explores the perspectives of female social workers as well. In addition, the article did not consider differences between the sub-groups and the different Ultra-Orthodox streams within the sample.

Footnotes

Ethics

Ethical approval for the study was granted by the ethical committee of the School of Social Work at The Hebrew University of Jerusalem. The participants signed an informed consent form. For the purpose of confidentiality, pseudonyms were used, and other identifying details were omitted during the different stages of research.

Funding

The authors disclosed receipt of the following financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article: This work was supported by the Israel Science Foundation (ISF; Grant No. 1958/17).

ORCID iD

Netanel Gemara

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