By: Nomi Kaltmann as seen in The Australian Jewish News

10 July 2026

Ask anyone in the workforce today whether they expect to still be in the same job in forty-two years, and they will probably laugh in your face. Most people are not even sure they will still be there next year. But every so often, someone stays long enough to shape an institution so completely that their name becomes inseparable from it.

For thousands of Australian Jewish women, that person is Rabbi Shmuel (Mulik) Gurewicz. To generations of Beth Rivkah students, he was, and remains, simply Mr G.

This week, he celebrates his 90th birthday.

I know I join thousands of former students in wishing him good health, and in marvelling that a man who spent more than four decades wrangling teenage girls into class and out of trouble continues to live here in Melbourne, where his influence is still felt every day.

I have many memories of Mr G, mostly because I spent an unreasonable amount of time in his office. “Nomi,” he would say, with the weary patience of a man who had seen it all before, “what are we going to do with you?” I know that beneath the exasperation was something unmistakable: a deep love for every single Jew who walked through his doors. Mr G’s love for all of his students shaped every Beth Rivkah student, whether we realised it at the time or not.

I asked my old classmates, the Class of 2010, what they remembered most about Mr G. The stories they sent me were not about assemblies or exam results. Together, they painted a portrait of a principal whose kindness extended far beyond the classroom.

One classmate remembered getting food poisoning on camp. Mr G decided she was too sick to face the bus ride home, so he and his wife drove her home themselves while she spent the entire journey sprawled, green and miserable across the back seat.

Another remembered his Tanya lessons, delivered in his office and woven together with stories from his years fighting in Israel’s wars. For Mr G, Jewish history was taught not from a textbook but from his own lived experience.

A third classmate told me about the day she stood in front of the school to ask everyone to give charity in memory of her grandfather who had recently passed away, only to dissolve into tears halfway through. Without missing a beat, Mr G stepped in and finished her announcement, encouraging everyone to donate to make sure her grandfather’s memory was honoured.

Finally, another classmate described Mr G as a “Chassidic Zionist”, and I don’t think two words have ever suited a person more. He served as a soldier in Israel’s wars and saw firsthand the miracles G-d had performed for the Jewish people. Alongside his devotion to Chabad and Chassidic values like Ahavat Yisrael, Mr G instilled in generations of Beth Rivkah girls both an abiding love for every Jew and a deep connection to Israel.

Forty-two years of service in a role as demanding as school principal is hard to imagine, but for Mr G it is his life’s work. Of the thousands of Beth Rivkah students Mr G taught, so many have gone on to become mothers, teachers, professionals, community leaders and even grandparents, still carrying lessons they first learnt under his leadership. Schools are built from bricks and mortar, but communities are built by people, and precious few have built as much of one as Mr G has.

I was, by any honest account, one of his naughtiest students. And yet he never gave up on me. He believed in me, encouraged me, and made sure that when I left Beth Rivkah, I carried with me a lifelong love of Torah, of Israel and of Chassidut. I know I am only one of thousands who could say exactly the same thing.

I know I join thousands from across our community, as we wish Mr G a very happy 90th birthday. From me, and from the thousands of women fortunate enough to have sat across the desk from him over the decades, we say thank you.

Thank you for your leadership, thank you for your teaching, thank you for your faith in your students and for your unwavering devotion to the Jewish people. Your influence reaches far beyond the walls of Beth Rivkah, and we remain, all of us, profoundly grateful to you for everything.

May you continue to be blessed with arichas yamim!