Things come full circle, a very personal account

Today I went through the archives of Charlotte Weber.  They included her personal files, with correspondence and letters between Charlotte and many of the people in her life.  I saw two amazing things that I feel the need to post about.  The second is even bigger than the first, and brings my research and life full circle.

First, Charlotte had many letters from children who were refugees in Switzerland during the war, both Jewish and non-Jewish.  The children, now grown, were writing to her in 1994, which (from what I gathered) was the last year of her life.  There were cards for the holidays, for New Years, and some just because.  Most of them were in German so I couldn’t read too many, but the idea that Charlotte received many letters, over 50, from those children she helped, was inspiring.

Digging deeper into her file, I came to “thing two”.  Charlotte knew and had much correspondence with a woman named Sarah, in Israel.  Sarah is a woman who I met through my internship in Israel with Ziv Tzedakah Fund in the summer of 2006.  Sarah runs a foundation, Keren Hanan Aynor, named for her late husband, that grants scholarships for education to Ethiopian students in Israel.  Sarah and Hanan were Ambassadors in Africa for many years, and had a deep connection to the culture and community.  During my Ziv summer, I spent a lot of extra time with Sarah, mostly because she spoke French and was active in France during the war years, working with the Youth Aliyah movement.  Sarah worked, voluntarily, as she was a citizen of then Palestine, not Europe, in children’s homes and orphanages, looking after the children and then helping them make Aliyah from a war-torn France.  I spent many Shabbat lunches and afternoon coffee dates in her apartment, speaking French and learning about her work.

Meeting Sarah in 2006 was a major turning point for me, as it opened my mind, and I began asking questions about Jewish rescue and resistance during the war, and looking into the role Jews played in the resistance in France.  It allowed me to discover that therewas a Jewish resistance movement in France, and that there were also Jews involved in other, secular resistance movements in France as well.  Hearing her story opened my eyes to the knowledge of Jewish resistance, the world in which I live today through my current Fulbright and prior research.  I had always intended to go back and interview Sarah, and it took six years for me to get back to that apartment on Alharizi in Jerusalem.

The story continues.  In March 2012, this year, when I went to conduct my field research in Israel, I contacted Sarah and arranged a meeting with her.  I had nearly forgotten about her through the whirlwind that this year has been- meeting new people, conducting interviews, and scheduling each item on my two-week Israel agenda.  Somehow, I remembered that I should contact her, and dug through my old emails to find her number and address.  We made an appointment, and I showed up (with moral support-Laura) to the apartment.  Standing outside, I remembered being on that exact street six years earlier.  I remembered the smell of the wildflowers growing on the block, the sight of the makolet on the corner, and the building, with windows open to let out the heat.  I stopped for a minute, took a breath, and walked up the stairs to the apartment where I had sat so many days in 2006.  Sarah greeted me, with an aid who lives with her now, and we spoke for over 2 hours.  I am not sure if she remembered me from so many years ago, but I still felt so connected to her. I told her the story of how she inspired my work, and she reassured me that I had chosen the right path and that my work would be successful.  I have the passion, she said, she can tell that people will listen to me because of the power and passion in my voice.  I decided not to tape the interview with Sarah for various reasons, and I know I will never get the full interview.  I just have to rely on my memory of sitting with her and listening to her stories from years ago.

Flash forward to today, in the ETH archives, Zurich.  I found a collection of letters written between Charlotte Weber and Sarah that made me stop and cry.  Reading Sarah’s letters reassured me of the type of person I remember her as, strong, honest, caring, and innovative.  Her friendship with Charlotte was close and personal, as I remember her being with me.  I could not believe that I had found and was able to read the letters from Sarah, at this point in my work and in my own life, which makes me feel as if things have come full circle.  There is so much left to be done, but I am lucky to have these experiences now and to be given gifts that give me the strength to carry on. 

a few words about Zurich…

I have been in Zurich since Sunday evening, working in the ETH Archives of Contemporary History.  One thing I love about historical archives are that they are generally underused.  Therefore, when a researcher shows real interest in discovering new things and working on an in-depth project with the archivist and the documents available, they are pretty much able to do and see what they want.  I have had a wonderful experience in the clean, well-lit room of the ETH archive, and have been warmly welcomed by the main archivist there.  Contrary to popular belief, archival research does not involve me in a small cubicle in a dark, stuffy room, unless you find me working at certain archives in NYC, sans reading room.I am excited to have found individual collections from rescuers, adults in charge of kinderheims and orphanages for refugee children, and the documents, at least some of them, of the ORT and OSE in Switzerland (which I have been searching for!)  I’ve accumulated over 400 new documents (mostly electronic, thankfully), and now have a lot more to work with.  I know it doesn’t sound too exciting, but the documents are the basis for proving certain things that historians believe about how the situation was during a time period that we did not experience.  It shows who provided money, who provided support, who was in charge of different aspects, such as children’s homes, camps du travail, travel, housing, etc, and what types of individuals these people were.  Finding archival documentation makes the testimonies real, and highlights the things that are important trends in them. 

I walked off the tram on Sunday evening in Zurich in the neighborhood where I was staying, only to find that there is, indeed, a Jewish shtetl in Zurich.  There were young women with long skirts, boys with kippot riding bikes, in masses.  Not just a few Jewish people like in Lausanne, but many.  It was exciting to walk through this quartier and see that Jewish life in Switzerland was still alive, even if only in a few blocks.

Tomorrow evening I have an interview with a 91 year old woman in Zurich who worked for the SHEK, a women’s led organization that was responsible for over 5000 refugee children in Switzerland, both Jewish and non-Jewish, during the war.  It should be very interesting!

I am off to Israel on Thursday.  My parents will be there with me, which is very exciting!  I’ll have to balance work and travel, but it can be done! Also, I am looking forward to my presentation at Yad Vashem in Jerusalem.  I found out that some of the biggest Shoah scholars will be in attendance, but no pressure.  I’ll keep you all posted!

 

Reflection on an article by Michael Berenbaum

Reflection on an article by Michael Berenbaum.

Reflection on an article by Michael Berenbaum

I was very inspired by an article that was shared with me from The Jewish Daily Forward, written by Michael Berenbaum of the Sigi Ziering Institute: Exploring the Ethical and Religious Implications of the Holocaust, and a professor of Jewish Studies at American Jewish University in Los Angeles.

The article is entitled: What the Survivor and Historian Know, Detente Between Those Who Lived the Shoah and Study It.

I feel that Berenbaum spoke justly and rightly about the perceived tension between survivor and historian, between testimony and archival documentation, between memory and history.  These are concepts I grapple with all the time in my “line of work”.  I will point to the cycle of learning that has occurred for me from my first interviews to those I conduct now, 10 months and 60 individual stories later.  During my first interviews, I did not know the names of the camps d’acceuil, camps du triage, or kinderheims where Jewish children and adolescents were places once they were allowed to remain in Switzerland.  I did not know the border crossing sites, the rescue and resistance hubs, or the location of any of these places.  What I knew was limited, from books about the OSE and MJS, from other historians, scholars, and mentors in the field, and from the legwork I had already done.  When I asked questions, I listened intently for answers, for names of specific homes or maisons for children, for names of rescuers, passeurs, and educators, and for places that existed in a survivor’s memory over 60 years ago.

 

Soon, a shift occurred.  I had learned about the places; Le Camp du Bout Du Monde, Charmilles, Champel, Asocna, Adleswil, Les Mureilles, Home de la Foret, Versoix, Institut Ascher, and I heard stories about children passing through border towns of Annecy, Veigy, and Annemasse.  I went to visit these places, I traveled across the border, and I started to learn more specifics from the archival work and dossiers.  I was then able to ask more educated questions, and I started to realize the consistencies and themes that occurred in the interviews, from individuals who experienced the same camp d’acceuil or kinderheim.  Having a strong basis and knowledge of the history and facts shows the survivors that you respect them and their stories.  I realized this as I continued to conduct the testimonies, and as survivors opened up and trusted me with things they had never shared before.

 

I was taught that history and memory play into one another, and if a historian is not careful in his work then lines become blurred.  However, each aspect has merit in its own right.  History, including archival documents, letters, journal and diary entries, police reports, media reports, speeches, and other primary source material is extremely important to verify the facts, although, as Berenbaum mentions, some documents represent special interests of the time and are not completely objective.  Testimonies show the more human aspect to the story, the things that historians cannot explain solely through studying documents; the feelings, the emotions, the connections, and what it was like to be somewhere and in a circumstance that is unimaginable today. 

 

I do not interview many concentration camp survivors, although I know many.  I mostly work with Jewish children who were refugees in Switzerland during the war.  The fact is that most of these children survived the war, and, though traumatic, their stories have a different sense than those survivors of concentration camps.  At the Warsaw conference this summer, one survivor, a hidden child, told me that she used to believe that her story was not as important as those of survivors of the camps.  She did not feel she could contribute to the study of the history, as she did not go through the same experience as them.  Now she knows, as I do, that all who lived through this time period have something to share, something that will soon be lost if we do not act now. 

 

As a historian, I aim to find the truth to the story, which is not an easy task.  It will always be tainted by my own analysis, convictions, and beliefs, no matter how hard I try to be objective.  However, for the sake of education, of remembrance, and of not repeating the mistakes of humankind, historians must do their job, in telling true stories based both on fact and oral history, on archival and testimony, and on history and memory.  I believe strongly in this, which, to me, is as certain as fact can be.

Read the original article: http://www.forward.com/articles/155681/what-the-survivor-and-historian-know/?p=all#ixzz1uD2joILv

 

 

Field working photos Part 2

Possessions kept by a survivor, from her mother.

A man traveling 2000 km with a shell, walking toward Jerusalem.  Met outside of Geneva.

The dead sea, and it’s salt.

Jerusalem

The former Institut Ascher, in Bex, Switzerland

The synagogue in Lausanne

Another perspective of Bex

Sunset in Jerusalem

Photos from field working days.

In the field.

I have not yet learned how to embed photos into my blog like some Fulbrighters.  But I did want to write another post before Shabbat and the weekend begins, as a lot is happening here in Switzerland.

I am happy to say that the Museum of Tolerance New York has agreed to host an event featuring Laura’s photography and my research.  I am excited for this event, which will take place in NYC in the fall.  Here is a link to their website:  www.museumoftolerancenewyork.com/.

The most exciting thing about being here in Switzerland has been the “field” aspect to my research.  Many historians don’t get to engage in field work when working on their research.  Besides the presentations and lectures I’ve given, I’ve had to go inside communities, speaking to all types of different people, in order to find the survivors with whom to speak, engage in their trust, and allow them to have a good interview experience, too.  I’ve been speaking to experts on testimonials, to learn how to best conduct the interviews and to find out how to learn what I need to learn from them.  When I began the Fulbright experience, a friend and colleague asked if I was going to spend time in the local communities where Jewish refugees actually were.  I had never thought of this as a potential part of my Fulbright research, in addition to the interviews and archival work.  I am happy to say that I have spent many days traveling the French-Swiss Border, at the former Institut Ascher in Bex, in Versoix and Geneva at the homes, and at other places.  I am also planning a trip to Le Chambon to look into the community there and see where Jewish children were hidden during the war, in addition to meet with a historian and archivist there who will help me navigate and learn.

I have been preparing a paper for a presentation to a scholarly research circle, and subsequently spent over two hours with an archivist at the Cantonal Archives in Geneva yesterday.  The goal was to create a list of Jewish refugees, age 2-18, who were accepted into the Canton of Geneva between 1 August 1942 and 1 June 1945.  After the archivist spent 30 minutes telling me the limitations of the search and some of the inherent problems with creating such a list, he agreed to work with me on it.  In the end, we were able to create the list. The thing that surprised me the most was that around 3,000 children and adolescents were accepted into Switzerland during those dates, with only 114 (or possibly 118) refused.  There are a lot of complexities and codes with the list, but it was very exciting to see some numbers, even if they are not 100% accurate at this point. 

More to come soon!  I am going to try and post more photos and reflections in these last few months!

The Interview Table

Photo Credit: Laura Bernier

Yom Hashoah, and not Yom Hashoah

I originally sat down to write this post on Thursday, which was Yom Hashoah in the Jewish calendar.  I had a lot of feelings and ideas flowing, but after reading all of the posts on Facebook from friends, colleagues, and others (magazines, archives, museums, etc.), I was left with a sense of overwhelming sadness and found I could not write a single word.  So I am writing this post today instead, with Yom Hashoah still in mind.

I started off this Fulbright year in August, in Warsaw, Poland, at a conference for survivors of the Shoah and their families.  I had many interesting discussions, met many inspiring people, and participated in a wonderful panel on resistance and rescue.  I met Bertha and Bracha, and Paula and Rene, who inspire me each day to continue the work I do.  But I realized, I do not need a Yom Hashoah to do this work.  It doesn’t compel me in the same way- to have one day to remember, but all the other days we go about our lives, sometimes thinking of others, sometimes not.  I don’t usually get overwhelmed, or sick, from my work.  I can count the number of times it has happened.  In March, when at Yad Vashem with Laura, I told her I would meet her in the museum after I had a few meetings.  Two hours later I wandered through the museum and found her in the section about the concentration camps.  I looked around, and started to literally feel sick to my stomach.  I told her I would meet her at the end of the museum, and quickly walked to the end of the exhibit.  I had been in the museum at Yad Vashem 5 times before, and never had this visceral reaction.  I pinned it back to Poland, as I had visited Majdanek, Auschwitz, and Birkenau in August, and for the first time witnessed first hand what had happened to 2/3 of my people in Europe.  The second time I felt sick was on Thursday.

I don’t need a special day to think about the horrors of the Shoah, and the importance of new and focused scholarship on the subject, with the main goals to teach and show so that we can learn and never forget.  I have been told- why are you focusing on this subject?  It’s all been done, it’s all been told.  People are sick of hearing about the Shoah, especially Europeans, so why waste your time?  But when I have a survivor who emails me for four weeks straight, asking when we can conduct his interview, as he does not know how much longer “he has” and wants so badly to speak with me, I know I am doing the right thing.  Ultimately, it is not about me.  I was almost embarrassed at the conference in Warsaw, that I did not have any family who survived the Shoah, and that I did not even know what happened to my great-grandfather’s family after he left Bialystok in 1929.  But in documenting the stories of others, I feel redeemed, that I can be a witness to their stories that they sometimes can’t even tell their own children and grandchildren- at least not yet.

I have 12 weeks left of my Fulbright in Switzerland, although I know that when June 30 arrives, I will still not be finished with this subject.  It has been the biggest blessing in my life, to have this opportunity.  During the 12 weeks, I will attend a conference in Strasbourg, will work in the archives in Bern and Zurich, travel back to Israel to work at Yad Vashem, will conduct 10 more interviews, and will present my research at the US Embassy in Bern and the Jewish Community in Lausanne.  I will work with Laura to find the most appropriate photos to show the human side to this project, and display them.  I will be busy, but it will be worth it.  We need some people in the world to think about the Shoah every day, not just on Yom Hashoah.  It can’t be everyone, each person finds their niche and changes the world in his or her own unique way.  This is my way, and the way of my colleagues, little by little, to shed light with information like “Jews Rescuing Jews”, my colleague and mentor Pat Henry’s new book about Jewish Resistance to the Nazis in Europe, and more. 

I hope to post again in the next few weeks to keep you all updated.  Thank you for allowing me to engage my philosophical side for this post. 

Ups and Downs…and Stateside on Monday

Things are always growing and changing with this project.  That’s the theme of this post.  I didn’t make it to a 2nd post in March which was my goal, but I’m only one day late. 

I already explained what it was like in Israel for Laura and I.  Now that I am back in Lausanne and have had some time to reflect on the whirlwind of a trip, I realize how truly amazing it was, and lucky that everything worked out!  Only one person cancelled their interview, but I also was able to schedule another one, keeping the number at 12 total in 2 weeks.  I also received more names of people to interview, which is always exciting.

These past two weeks back in Lausanne have been both positive and negative.  First, my laptop was stolen at the university cafeteria.  The funny thing is I am only at the university once a month on average, but it happened to me.  The up side is that I had done a post-Israel full computer backup the DAY before it was stolen, so I didn’t lose anything from the project.  I’m lucky to be an obsessive back-uper.

I’ve been learning a lot of new French words, words that I had trouble finding before.  I attribute this to having a few close French-speaking friends, and the amount of time I spend with native French speakers.  I have been trying to do more social and fun things here as my time is coming to a close, and this past week was a good example of that. I took a 4 hour walk through Geneva with another Fulbrighter, saw a small library exhibit from a Swiss friend, went to a sushi-making party, and spent time with friends in general.  It definitely has enhanced my week.

I am going back to the US for Pesach for two weeks.  However, everyone in Lausanne made sure I’m coming back, as they said they will miss me too much.  I do feel like I have some family here. Some upcoming things: working with a talented film student from the University of Lausanne on a short film/video for my upcoming presentations, meetings in NYC and DC at the Museum of Tolerance and the Swiss Embassy about presentations in the fall, and lots of advice-seeking about the book and article writing process.  Also, a car trip with Laura in June to Le Chambon and some of the other places where Jewish children were hidden and saved during the war in France.  Any suggestions would be appreciated!

Sorry there are no new photos this time.  I will post some when I get a new computer.  I can’t believe it’s the last 3 months of my Fulbright experience. I could use another year! Chag pessach kasher v’sameach and Happy Easter to everyone who is reading!