Dear Crown Heights Community,
I’ve rewritten this letter at least five times, trying to find the right words—trying to say what I want to say without sounding angry or bitter. Because I’m not. Okay, maybe a little. But mostly I’m grateful. I’m doing well, baruch Hashem. But I need you to hear this from someone who’s been there.
I’m 19 years old. I grew up right here in Crown Heights, went to Beis Rivkah, walked up and down Kingston like every other girl, and spent years learning how to smile when I didn’t feel okay. My parents got divorced when I was eight.
No, this isn’t the nebach “poor me” article.
Try to resist the urge to click away.
Give it two more minutes—
it might mean a nine-year-old won’t have to go through what I did.
It’s way beyond the scope of these few hundred words for me to share what it’s like growing up without the stability of a home. But that’s also not the point. For the purposes of what I want to share, let me just say that I spent almost every day of my childhood feeling different from everyone—and had to contend with the added injury of no one in Crown Heights noticing.
No one ever asked what it was like to come home and set the table for just one parent. No one realized how strange it felt to get invited to a friend’s house for Shabbos and see a father making Kiddush. Or how I used to dread school events that highlighted having both parents. I learned to blend in, to laugh at the right times, to make sure no one saw what I was carrying. Because in our community, most people just don’t talk about these things.
And maybe that makes sense. If you grew up with two loving parents, a steady home, a warm Shabbos table—how would you know what it’s like to live without it? And if I’m being honest, you probably couldn’t even explain what it gave you. That’s the thing about family: when it’s healthy, you don’t even realize it’s there. Like air. You just breathe.
But I noticed. Every day. I noticed everything. Every father picking up his daughter from Beis Rivkah. Every mother and father sitting together at PTA. Every small moment that reminded me of what I didn’t have.
I’m not writing this for pity. I’m writing this because there’s one place in this neighborhood—one exception—that did see me: My Extended Family. MYEF runs weekly clubs, mentoring, and emotional support for kids from single-parent homes—like mine. They didn’t just give me something to do on a Thursday after school. They gave me something to belong to.
Thursday nights were my lifeline. I’d count down the days. We’d hang out, talk, do homework, eat pizza. There was no judgment, no labels—just a room full of girls who didn’t have to explain themselves. And the staff? They weren’t staff. They were people who cared. The big sisters, the mentors, even the social workers—they didn’t try to “fix” us. They just showed up.
I used to think the divorce was my fault. That if I had been easier, quieter, more helpful, maybe things would’ve been different. My mother told me otherwise, but it wasn’t until I came to MYEF that I started to believe it. That maybe I wasn’t broken. That maybe I was just a kid trying to grow up in a situation I didn’t ask for.
Everyone’s worried about teens these days—where they’re going, what they’re doing, how to bring some of them back. But what you call “at-risk teens” were once kids just like me—quiet, smiling, trying to keep it together. That’s why My Extended Family is such a critical part of the community. They catch us while we’re still soft enough to heal, before we harden, chas v’shalom, in the wrong shape.
I don’t know where I’d be without My Extended Family. And I’m not the only one. There are hundreds of girls—and boys—in this neighborhood going through things you will likely never see, and the angels of My Extended Family are showing up for us every day.
So I’m asking you, as someone who sat next to your daughters in class, stood behind you in line at the bagel store—please notice us. Notice the kids who seem “fine” but stay quiet. The ones who laugh a little too hard or not at all. The ones who could really use someone who gets it.
And please support the one place in this neighborhood that’s doing something about it.
Click here to support My Extended Family of Crown Heights
If you’re wondering where to start—start by seeing us.
Thank you for listening.
— 19-Year-Old “graduate” of My Extended Family
To everyone involved with this group — keep going strong! I wish it had existed when my kids needed it. Hope you raise a lot of funds!!
This broke my heart to read. Thank you for bringing this to our attention.
It’s not your fault your parents got divorced, and you deserve to be treated better.
💔
You’re right. We should be more on top of noticing kids like this.
The crime committed by a parent who makes life so unbearable for a family that it necessitates divorce is one that can never be forgiven.
Do not get married if you’re not healthy enough to have a relationship.
An abusive parent home or a divorced home is not life.
I’m a trained mental health professional. MORE THEN HALF of my clients are children from abusive or divorced homes.
People do not understand what is going on here.
The Torah gives room for divorce. It is not a crime. Not every divorce is a result of abuse. There are children of divorce who have two loving parents – amicable to each other but not good as partners in marriage. Many grow up with two sets of loving grandparents and are very used to a father making kiddush. They are told over and over the divorce had nothing to do with them and both parents love them. Their father picks up from school when he’s lucky enough for them to be coming home to him. Divorce is not fun… Read more »
The way I read it, it said parent,not both parents . It’s actually true that divorce should only happen when theres abuse and its quite false that most divorced are amicable once they get divorced and children arent spared from being in between the whole mess. Still, you can’t tell someone who is abusive not to get married and damage others ,like they care.
No kidding. I’m a project of this mess, and please get help. Don’t be immbarresd of your issues get rid of them instead. Yes I’m talking to you! You need help. So get help
The mom that her son is now in yeshiva. Has no husband, no parents, no place for shabbos or yom tov.
She sits home alone.
Be a volunteer for My extended family
It takes two to tango and two to divorce. Why does this community turn the Moms into victims? The Dad is now solo. He may be a wonderful father but the entitled wife wanted more. He may have been a kind husband who needed his children’s mother to be more connected to Torah. There are thousands of reasons couples today get divorced. It’s a hard situation to live with and there’s no need for the added stress of guilting one side about the other’s now lack. The single Dad has no wife to make Shabbos, light the candles with his… Read more »
It’s not about the mom, its about the child’s perspective
Thank you dear author for this raw, honest and well-written peek into your inner world and a glimpse at what you had to go through in your childhood and into adulthood. I strongly resonated with everything you mentioned, being the son of divorced parents and having to bear the “pity” of people who couldn’t understand what kids like us went through or the heart-wrenching times when we really needed a second parent at our side, to take us to Shul, to just be there for us, throughout adolescence and beyond. It was really encouraging to hear you bring up this… Read more »
Were all all living in different planets. trying to cope with our own challenges, some have SO MUCH completely blind or capable to see outside their own circle while others have absolutely NOTHING Beyond human understanding or how to deal/fix this terrible ongoing plus so many other issues in our lifes The command/control center seams non existence total chaos on so many levels, hard impossible to believe there is someone flighing the plane, which is bond to crash, and nothing able to make a difference Totally out of control But the privilege have ZERO perceptions understanding clue of the reality… Read more »
Even today as an adult I have a hard time walking into shul. It triggers all the loneliness I had as a child walking into shul. . Alone….reading this brings healing to my soul. Thank you My Extended Family!
Wow, that sounds hard
I’m also from a divorced parents home, know that the past doesn’t equal to the present. You can get over any beliefs that you grew up with, that’s what I did and it feels liberating
I’m divorced myself and I understand you’re not trying to make it about you and you’re in a horrendous situation but this article is about a child perspective in a divorced home,its not about you,vent in another article, its inappropriate and not giving space to what this message is about, please don’t detract from the point ,a child is trying to get support from living in a divorced single parent home and you’re not allowing it,thus proving how invisible children in divorced homes are.