Teaching the Shoah to Younger Students

Yesterday in Italy we observed il Giorno della Memoria, aka Holocaust Memorial Day or Holocaust Remembrance Day. I was asked recently why this day exists when we already have Yom HaShoah. My response was that Yom HaShoah is an observance within the Jewish community, when we mourn our families. Perhaps one might say it is like a communal yahrzeit. 

HMD is for all communities of the world, and for all victims of Nazi evil. In my experience, it is much more connected to the concept of memory as an educational tool, which certainly includes paying one's respects to the victims, but really focuses on the more universal aspect of how to fight intolerance and hatred.

Once a week I go to a local state/public school and at the end of the school day I teach 2 hours of English language conversation to 19 children in the First class (c. age 11). They've just finished their first term of regular English lessons in the school, so our vocabulary is a little limited. However, since our weekly lesson fell on the exact date of HMD, with the support of the regular English teacher, we decided to devote yesterday's class to the Shoah.

It was quite a challenge to figure out how to present something appropriate for their age and language skills. But their teacher was quite excited to have me as a resource - I am the first Jew that any of the children have ever met (or, as young G. noted, as far as they know!). We have spent the last couple of lessons learning about family relationships ('niece' & 'nephew' use the same word in Italian as 'grandchildren', i.e., 'nipote'. This has been very confusing for them!), so I decided to tell them the stories of two of my relatives, using their experiences as prompts for further discussion.

The video above is the slideshow/Powerpoint presentation I used as a prompt for our class. V., the regular teacher, sat with us and translated when necessary. Even though this was supposed to be an English lesson, it was important she was there, and I was most grateful.

I think the lesson went quite well. The students had spent the previous 3 hours studying the Shoah, as mandated by the state. And last week I also spent a little time in our class preparing for the discussion. The spectrum of knowledge was broad, ranging from someone who could quote Anne Frank's Diary to someone who didn't know what a Jew was. So we did some basic history. For the main lesson, I had two concerns - how to present the horror without being too horrible, and - and this was the biggie - to address why they need to study this. Why should an 11-year-old kid from Modena care about what happened to an old woman from Chodziez a gazillion years ago?

Nu, you can see in the video how I tried to deal with it all. In very simple English. At the end there are photos of my parents with Otto Frank - I had mentioned a family connection and promised to bring the pics to show them. I thought that would be all, and then I was surprised and touched to be presented with a card that the children had made for me, and some of the pictures they had drawn.

Afterwards I had a quick word with the teacher and offered to work together for next time so that there might be a curriculum for the school. Apparently they got a letter with links to some videos to be watched and the command that creative work such as drawing and writing poems must be encouraged. I would love to help them develop something more structured. There was a positive verbal response, so we shall see ...!

Kristallnacht 2020

[Cannot seem to embed YouTube video so please have a look via this link:  Kristallnacht]

My father was in Berlin during Kristallnacht. Actually, his family had been warned about the possible pogrom and had gone into hiding in the attic of a house in the suburbs. They were there with about 10 other people, for quite a few days. The video above gives a brief version of what happened next. For the rest of his story, the Museum of Jewish Heritage in NYC features "Albert's Story" as an educational tool in their Shoah curriculum. You can see more of it here.

To be honest, my father never talked that much about his experiences. He always said that he would answer any questions that we had. The problem for me was, I didn't know which questions to ask. With regard to Kristallnacht, the most striking part of his story for me was always when he spoke about going back home after it was (supposedly) all over. The family travelled separately, and my father was with his father, Alex. He told me how he could feel the shards of glass as he walked along the street, he could feel them through his shoes. And he said that there was a moment in the U-Bahn when he lost hold of his father's hand. That is the memory that sticks with me, the feeling in that instant.

Today, this date also marks the moment when I went to the German Embassy in London with my mother 3 years ago and we reclaimed our German citizenship. It was not a conscious choice to have the appointment that day, yet it made sense that it was then that a smidgeon of something we had lost was returned to us. 

We mourn what cannot be restored, and we are hopeful that a new chapter of healing is now possible. There's a lot to do - let's get busy!

Why it's Important to Remember

the last Red Cross note received from my mother's grandmother, who was murdered in 1942. All that is known is that they went to Riga, then to Stutthof concentration camp. There are no other details on record. Her final message to her daughter expresses joy at the news of her granddaughter's birth. 

Someone on Facebook posted today regarding their feelings about Holocaust Memorial Day. They felt strongly that they did not want to make grief from a dreadful past appear to be the central tenet of contemporary Judaism. They argued that the best way of action is to live a joyous Jewish life, thus making sense out of having survived. I wrote the following in response to that thought:

"This afternoon I shared my previous blogpost with my English language class of 18-year-old Italian young men. The Giorno della Memoria is taken very seriously in Italy. For at least one week beforehand, the television and other media are full of programmes and articles related to it, and there are public events in towns and cities across the land.

In class today I spoke to Alessandro, Singh, Riccardo, Luca, Mohamed, Matteo, Issam and others. I shared a brief version of the short life and cruel death at Buchenwald of my great-uncle Hermann. And then we talked about remembering.

What does it mean to remember? On a personal level, I mourn my family members. Our community mourns its victims. But what are these students of mine supposed to remember? I asked them what they thought. One said, murdered Jews? Ok, I said, Why? They looked puzzled.

It so happens that there was an election here yesterday, and most of these kids didn't vote. I asked them why. Well, the politicians are corrupt, and even if they say they will do what you want, they change their minds after the election. What's the point? I then asked, do you know what important event happened in Germany in 1933? Nobody knew. Someone guessed - did Hitler become Dictator? No! I said. That was when Hitler was democratically elected.

People with extreme views generally vote, I said. Those who decide not to take part leave the field free for such people. And then look what can happen. Hitler got enough power democratically, and then was able to become a dictator. You need to remember this. You need to remember what this can lead to. And you need to remember that it is in your hands to make sure such things cannot happen again.

We are not only grieving the worst thing that humans have ever done. We are witnesses, to help the world remember, so humans do not do it again. So we must remember.

If sharing a little personal remembrance on a national day of memory may help to illustrate the horror in a way that is more tangible than incomprehensible numbers, I will do it.

As for living our tradition joyfully in spite of the Holocaust, that is the other side of the coin. What a gift it is to the world to show that it is possible to live again, to love again, to build lives and families again after such a disaster. For me it goes hand in hand with remembering, rather than choosing between one or the other."

Once the last eyewitness of the Shoah has died, and that time isn't far away, we need to have a good explanation for why the new generations should care about what happened. If they are not Jewish or Roma/Sinti or LGBTQ+ or Communist or connected to any of the most well-known groups that are named when speaking about Nazi persecution, there will be little difference between this historical event and any other throughout history. We need to find a way for this memory to be relevant to all future generations.

When will they realise that remembering what happened, how it all went pear-shaped, will give them vital information for the safety and well-being of their own lives, and their families and their communities. This is work we still need to do. And it begins with telling the story.

Holocaust Memorial Day 2020

Teenage Bubi in Essen early 1930's

Six million Jews were murdered by the Nazis in the Shoah. Millions of others also suffered and died. These numbers are so large that it is hard to get your head around them. The Paper Clips project was a brilliant way to try and make 6,000,000 tangible. Still, it is overwhelming.

Tomorrow is the annual observance of Holocaust Memorial Day. This year also marks 100 years since the birth of my grandmother's baby brother Herman Albert, known as Bubi, who was one of the victims of the Nazis. There is a Jewish teaching that the death of one person is equivalent to the death of a whole world. Thus this year I begin my observance in memory of my great uncle Bubi.

The story that I was told by my grandmother was that there was a window of opportunity to buy people out of Germany. It cost £50, I think, per person. Omi worked hard to earn the money as a maid. First she was able to save her fiancé, then her sister Ilona. The window was closing, and Omi knew that she didn't have enough time to earn another £50, so she made the rounds of Jewish charities to see if she could borrow the money. Unfortunately, nobody would help. Some did not believe that there was really such imminent danger. Others told her that it was hard enough to have established themselves in the community, and they didn't want any newbie immigrants around to give the Jews a bad name! The window closed, and Bubi remained in Essen.

The situation in Germany deteriorated, and Bubi decided he would have to run away. He was still a teenager. He managed to get across the border to Switzerland. However, the Swiss said that he was a German citizen, and sent him back to Germany. He fled to Hungary, where he had cousins, but in 1944 the Hungarian Jews were also deported, and he was murdered in the concentration camp called Buchenwald.

The Central Database of Victims' Names at Yad Vashem has the following testimony:

Name:  Loewy, Herman Albert

Date of birth:  11.09.1920

Place of birth:  Essen, Germany

Citizenship:  Germany

First name of victim's father:  Simon

First name of victim's mother:  Itta

Permanent residence:  Essen, Germany

Deported from Hungary to KZ Sachsenhausen. Hanged in Buchenwald.

Residence during the war:  Italy, Switzerland, Czechoslovakia, Hungary

Place of death:  KZ Buchenwald

I think Omi never got over her guilt for not having managed to bring her brother to London. 

As for Holocaust Memorial Day, the randomness of fate meant that my grandmother made it out of Germany. She gave birth to my mother, and my mother to me. And it is my job to make sure that evil such as this does not happen again. Not just to my family. Not just to Jewish people. To anyone. So this is a day to remind each other to stand up against hate. To stand up for tolerance. We don't all have to love each other. But we have to treat each other with respect. It seems so simple, but apparently it is difficult for a lot of people. I hope that these words of mine aren't just hot air. I hope that every student I teach, every person I encounter experiences me walking this walk. And when I fall down, as all humans do, I hope I am brave enough and strong enough to correct my mis-steps and continue walking.

In the name of all whose names are remembered tomorrow, and for all who have nobody to remember them, I remember Herman Albert Loewy.

I'm (not) a Belieber

So a young Canadian popstar, a boy with millions of fans and the crazy life such attention can bring, has made a comment in the guestbook at the Anne Frank House in Amsterdam. What he wrote has caused rather a lot of fuss and bother.

The Guardian reports on it here. I'm not a big fan of the lad or his music, but I have to say that I agree with the Indy reporter (here) in that it is a pleasant surprise that this young man took the time to visit the Anne Frank House and show an interest. Indeed, his visit may bring Anne's story to many people who otherwise would never have encountered it.

Meanwhile, if people need something about which to make a fuss, perhaps there are other issues that could use their energy, e.g., how would you like to help children no longer be hungry and die from malnutrition? Check out Live Below the Line for their 2013 initiative here. If this doesn't appeal, I am sure you can find something that does. Ok, preaching over.