The Hidden Art of Education: What Plumbers Can Teach Us About Raising Children

Dr. Blaylock was on the verge of making history. As a pioneering heart surgeon, he developed one of the first heart-lung machines and began experimenting with open-heart surgery on animals. Yet his research hit a wall. Time and again, infants were born with a fatal condition — so-called “blue babies,” deprived of oxygen, who tragically did not survive.

Unexpectedly, help came from an unlikely source: his African American assistant, Vivian Thomas. Though officially employed as a lab technician, and often referred to dismissively as a “plumber,” Thomas possessed remarkable insight. He explained how the “pipes” of the human body could be rerouted to restore proper blood flow.

Dr. Blalyock listened. Together, they developed a revolutionary procedure connecting the subclavian artery to the pulmonary artery. On November 29, 1944, a crowd of physicians gathered to witness this groundbreaking surgery. But in the middle of the operation, something went wrong.

“Call my plumber, Thomas,” Dr. Blaylock said, to the astonishment of those present. “He’s the only one who knows what to do.”

Defying the racial prejudices of the time, Thomas was urgently brought into the operating room. Calmly and skillfully, he stepped in, and saved the infant’s life. That moment marked the birth of modern heart surgery.

When a System Gets Blocked

Standing under a kitchen sink fixing a clogged pipe, I found myself thinking about Yanky, a yeshiva student who had recently been expelled, yet was later seen learning diligently on his own.

Yanky had developed what he called an “allergy” to authority figures. Years of feeling misunderstood had eroded his self-esteem. In his eyes, if he was right, then it didn’t matter who stood on the other side — even a respected head of yeshiva.

Labels like “disrespectful” came easily. But beneath the surface was pain. He struggled socially, often sarcastic, reactive, and blunt. Gratitude was difficult for him to express. Yet in quiet moments, there were glimpses of something deeper — a smile that revealed he was capable of joy, even if he couldn’t articulate it.

After much work, we began identifying the root of his inner “blockage.” Slowly, as he developed a sense of purpose and agreed to a structured plan, he returned to the very yeshiva that had once rejected him.

The change wasn’t dramatic, but it was real. His reactions softened. His interactions improved. The bitterness hadn’t disappeared, but something had begun to flow again.

Educators as “Plumbers” of the Soul

There is an interesting comparison between plumbers and educators.

A plumber fixes blockages in pipes. An educator addresses blockages in the human soul.

When a pipe is unclogged, there is often an initial surge of dirty water. It’s unpleasant, but necessary. Anyone who cannot tolerate that mess cannot do the job.

The same is true in education. When you begin to address a child’s inner struggles, resistance often surfaces, including pain, anger, distrust. These are not signs of failure; they are part of the healing process.

Experience sharpens the ability to diagnose. A seasoned professional can quickly tell whether a simple fix will suffice, or whether a deeper repair is needed. The same applies to educators who, with insight and sensitivity, can identify what lies beneath a child’s behavior.

The Art of True Leadership

My late father-in-law, Rabbi Hillel Cohen, was a master educator — what one might call a “spiritual plumber.” Once, during a tense real estate negotiation, he sensed that the seller was uncomfortable and overwhelmed.

Within minutes of speaking privately with him, everything changed. The tension dissolved, and the deal was completed smoothly.

Later, he explained: “I realized he couldn’t read and was afraid of the contract changes. He preferred to walk away rather than risk being taken advantage of.”

With a simple solution of reading the contract aloud, the blockage was gone.

This is leadership.

The Torah describes God’s guidance of the Jewish people with the words: “You led them with strength to Your holy dwelling.” Rashi explains that “led” implies leadership. But the Targum adds a deeper layer: true leadership means to carry and to bear.

A true leader is not defined by status, salary, or outward appearance. A true leader is one who can carry the burden of others, who can endure, who can remain connected to the people.

Moshe exemplified this throughout his life, by carrying the people’s struggles, advocating on their behalf, and supporting them even in their most difficult moments.

Opening the Flow

Real leadership and real education are not about control. They are about connection, and identifying where things are blocked and helping restore flow.

To guide others, one must be willing to bear, to listen, and to act with patience and empathy. Because sometimes, all it takes to change a life, is someone willing to fix the blockage.