This poem reflects the intensity of bearing witness at Majdanek, the Nazi extermination camp located in Lublin. The title, “Know Before Whom You Stand,” is a phrase that often appears above the Ark in the sanctuary of the synagogue.
A high school student explains what he learned about Jewish tradition from his experience developing a smartphone app for a virtual Yom HaShoah candle.
Have you ever noticed that when we teach the Holocaust, we let the perpetrators dictate the story for us? We use their pictures and their propaganda to tell our story, forgetting that their agenda was to dehumanize the Jews.
Yom HaShoah cannot be the only day we remember the Holocaust, but rather a frequent reminder of our obligation to end all forms of oppression.
“NOVA”’s new one-hour film, “Holocaust Escape Tunnel,” reminds us that in an era of alternative facts, science and history still can separate fact from fiction.
Genocide has been in the news lately. On March 17th, Secretary of State John Kerry declared, “In my judgment, Daesh (ISIS) is responsible for genocide against groups in areas under its control, including Yazidis, Christians, and Shia Muslims.” But unless the world’s most powerful nation fulfills its legal and moral obligation under the Genocide Convention, thousands more men, women, and children will fall victim to the crime that once had no name.
Yom Hashoah arrives this year on the eve of two historic anniversaries: the 80th anniversary of the coming into effect of the Nuremberg Race Laws, which served as prologue and precursor to the Holocaust, and the 70th anniversary of the Nuremberg Trials, which served as the foundation for the development of contemporary international human rights and humanitarian law. We must ask ourselves two questions: What have we learned? What must we do?
In North America, Holocaust remembrance services and programs often include special musical selections in memory of people lost during the war and in honor of those who fought against the Nazis. Such music is profound and varied, and often was used as a vehicle of resistance. For example, “Zogt Nit Keynmol” (“Never Say That You Have Reached the Final Road”) was written in April 1943 in reaction to news of the Warsaw Ghetto uprising. Composed in Vilna by underground fighter Hirsh Glick and set to a Soviet cinema tune by Dmitri and Daniel Pokrass, the song spread like wildfire throughout Eastern Europe, becoming the official hymn of the partisan brigades.
I recently visited Majdanek, a concentration camp in Poland, with my classmates. Afterward, I wrote this piece - part poem and part essay - about what spoke to me there.
I remember the absence of sound,
deeper than silence
and more lonely,
like the moment just
before Creation,
all stretched and
attenuated, waiting,
except there was no time
to measure
eternity,
so waiting was
Now.
I wait for God to
say my name,
so that I will