Parker- Final Blog Post

It is difficult to fathom the enormity of the Holocaust. So many millions of lives lost. So many stories that will never be told. But it is our duty to struggle with it. It is our duty to wonder how, in the twentieth century, such unspeakable atrocities could occur. We owe it to those who perished and those who survived to do so. If we do not remember the past, then we will repeat our mistakes. History will reoccur. These crimes against humanity still matter because they are a reminder of why we must fight to uphold our ideals and a warning of what will happen if we do not. This unit has given me a new perspective on the Holocaust. When we think of it, we often consider the statistics; 6 million Jews murdered, 1.5 million Roma. But the Holocaust is not just numbers. It also encompasses the stories of millions of ordinary people with aspirations, families and lives. Reading about Elie Wiesel’s experiences in Night helped me approach a difficult topic from a viewpoint that I can empathize with. His perspective is relatable for two reasons: when the memoir took place, Wiesel was slightly older than I am now, and we are both Jewish. Though I do not know of any immediate family members that perished in the Holocaust, it still connects to my life. Many members of the community at my synagogue are descended from or related to survivors. For them, as well as me, remembering the Holocaust and working to prevent future genocides are significant aspects of Judaism. An important part of honoring trauma victims, such as Holocaust survivors, is bearing witness. Remembering them and carrying their stories with us is a small way to relieve them from their burden. By bearing witness we are also acknowledging that the atrocities they witnessed did, in fact, happen. This concept is reflected in the Hall of Remembrance at the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum. Having a room dedicated to the commemoration of victims is making the statement that the Holocaust happened and disproving those who claim otherwise. We must be like Elie Wiesel, who spoke so eloquently upon receiving the Nobel Prize: “Do I have the right to represent the multitudes who have perished? Do I have the right to accept this great honor on their behalf? I do not. No one may speak for the dead, no one may interpret their mutilated dreams and visions. And yet, I sense their presence.” Wiesel bore witness to many stories of suffering despite his own traumatic past. He could not represent the dead, but kept their stories alive through his writing. We must emulate him, putting aside our sadness to commemorate the victims in whatever way we can. To never tell one’s story is to deprive oneself of remembrance. Though it is difficult to relive traumatic experiences, doing so is better and healthier in the long run. If trauma survivors share their stories, then they will have great weights lifted off them. Telling others will allow them to gain some peace from the horrors they experienced, and let them know that witnessing such horrors was not in vain. They may be able to prevent what happened to them from occurring again. If we do not remember the stories of Holocaust survivors and victims, then we will be giving the Nazis their own tiny victory. Instead of knowing the names of the perpetrators, we should know the names of the victims. When there are no Holocaust survivors left, we must remember their stories for that, in itself, is a small form of immortality.