A lot of our journey consisted of going to
concentration and death camps. We went to Auschwitz-Birkenau, Majdanek,
Plaszow, and Treblinka. In the camps there was an eerie quiet. I've never heard
anything like it before in my life. The snow was sparkling; in Auschwitz the
sun was shining and it would have been a nice day, if we weren't in a place
were over half a million people were killed. As I walked out of the gates of
Auschwitz on the second day of the journey a weird sensation came over me. I
was able to freely and proudly walk as a Jew out of the gates of Auschwitz. I
was now able to do what hundreds of thousands of people dreamed of doing,
including my great-grandmother. The whole day I kept thinking how even though I
was walking the same paths my great-grandmother walked I had a completely
different life - free of persecution and attack. I can't begin to describe how
grateful it made me feel for my life and for the resilience of my family...All
I have of my great-grandmother are a few stories and a picture, but I have
never felt so connected to my ancestry before. It was terrible that it had to
be in such a desolate place, but that is the case for the collective story of
the Jews of Europe.
Majdanek is still totally intact. The barracks
are the same. The gas chambers still have blue stains from the Zyklon B. Its
claustrophobic, and filled with a sense of despair and total tragedy. At the
end of the camp there is a pile of ashes that was found in the fields
surrounding the camp. As we left that despicable place we were asked a very
interesting question. What is the opposite of all of that, of the camps, and
the Nazi regime? The answer that came up most often and easily was
relationships founded on love, trust, and deep respect. And a lifestyle based
on Shivyon Erech Ha'adam (the equality of human life). It was so meaningful for
us to have these discussions because these are the exact relationships and
lifestyles we are trying to form by living collectively and doing messima. IT
sparked a little hope in a dark and desperate place.
The central part of our journey, however, was
not to visit the camps and see the atrocities and go home depressed. Our last
day brought to our attention the real purpose of the journey. We were in
Warsaw, but instead of walking the 'Path of Suffering' we walked the 'Path of
Heroism'. We went to places that were in the Warsaw ghetto that were
instrumental in the uprising. We saw the building that housed the Dror commune.
And read testimonies about the joy, love and warmth always present in the 34
Dzielna Street (the commune) even through the darkest days of the ghetto. We
went on to see the barrack where the members of the underground hid, at Mila
18. We heard the story of Antek, Zivia, Chavka, and Mordechai the leaders of
the same youth movement we are a part of. The story of the Warsaw ghetto
uprising is a story of courage, inspiration, and great strength. A group of
teenagers were able to hold off all attempts from the Nazis to enter the ghetto
for 6 hours straight in some places. For almost 3 weeks the underground of the
Dror movement held off the Nazis, fighting desperately and valiantly, not even
for their lives but for the 3 lines in history that say there were Jews who
fought back, who rose up, who died with dignity, honour and courage, and who
lived. But this story isn't only a line in the history book for us. They were
members of the same movement we were a part of. Their actions serve as proof of
the power of values and belief. Their story inspires us; but it also demands a
lot of us. It demands us to be empowered, to recognize the issues in our
society and to uphold the standard of the movement of being a powerful force in
creating a more just society.
The tales of the Holocaust are not just stories
of the past. Next to Plaszow there is a sign for a Pizza Hut. Next to Majdanek
there is a town. Next to Auschwitz there is a road that people drive down every
day to go to work. Every street corner, every other building in Poland has some
horror story of Nazi atrocities. But what does that mean for Poland? What does
that mean for the people that drive past the monuments of mourning every day?
What do they remember? How do they remember? I don't think that every building
that housed a Nazi officer should be destroyed, nor should it be preserved as a
way to remember. Poland still deals with the dilemmas of how to educate, and
how to take responsibility. The Holocaust still affects us today but the only
way to make "Never Again" a true statement is to be aware of the
injustices in our world and to actively live a life that direct counteracts
them and improves our society. The Holocaust showed that we are all
responsible, regardless of religion or status or location. But now it is up to
us what we are going to do with that responsibility.
"The fiercest storm does not destroy the
seed hidden in the ground" - Antek Zuckerman on education.
