Jewish in Europe

It is strange being Jewish in Europe. There are not that many Jews here anymore.

Being Jewish and living in Europe seems different than being Jewish in America. In the U.S there are lots of cultural symbols to affirm one’s identity: popular tv shows, movies and songs that reference Jewish culture. Many of us have Jewish friends and some window displays sport menorahs and “Happy Chanukah” in addition to “Merry Christmas.” This is not so in Europe. As any student of history knows, and as someone now living here can attest to: most of the Jews are gone. I am told that there are Jewish populations in the bigger cities. Maybe.

That being said, my Dutch friends enjoy me teaching them a bit about my culture. For example, during one night of Chanukah I lit a menorah with my Dutch roommate. I said the prayer over the candles; I think she liked it.

The only Jew I have met here was my professor that lead my class trip to Berlin. His father was the only Jew to survive in his Dutch town. It so happened that he was away (perhaps playing at a friend's home)the day the village was evacuated.

At the Anne Frank Museum in Amsterdam I asked to see a book that catalogues the names of all Dutch Jews killed in the Holocaust. I was able to look up a few family member’s names. It was eerie.

I am reminded of my Jewish history everywhere, particularly in Berlin. Three of the four branches of my family tree stem from Germany (the other from Russia.) And all the branches are Jewish. Fortunately, most of my family moved to America, many to West Virginia, in the late 1800’s. In West Virginia they helped build Charleston's first temple (Jewish places of workship can be called both synogogues and temples.)

My grandmother Marian, my mother’s mother, arrived in America in the early 30’s as a three-year-old. Her parents had incredible foresight. If they had waited any longer to leave, the borders would have been closed. Short story: I would not be here. I am so grateful to the prescience of my ancestors.

Before the war, my great-grandparents Helmut and Hildegard lived in Berlin in a beautiful home. They had many friends and nice things. Helmut was a professor and violinist in the orchestra. Hildegard (who I called Mimi as a child) was a singer in the Berlin Opera. Helmut starting speaking out against Hitler in the university (a no-no.) He was either told to be silent or fired (I forget which). But, at that point, he had a premonition; he knew things were going to get bad. How did he suspect so early? I do not know. And so, Helmut and Hildegard and their little girl, my awesome grandmother, left behind everything and came to America. They would always crave their life in Germany and everything left behind.

So, when walking around Germany, I think of these things. This is one of the reasons I am ambivalent about Berlin and sometimes Germany.

Certain things make me ponder. One example was the time my class visited an exhibition in Berlin on the Third Reich in the winter.The thing that got me was an enormous bolt of cloth stamped with yellow stars that said Jude (Jew in German.) By law, the stars were to be cut and worn by all. The stars were intended to be a badge of shame associated with Judaism. It was compulsory in the Middle Ages for Jews to wear such a star and then it was brought back by the Nazis. For some reason that bolt of cloth, with the edge cut in a jagged line, meaning that fabric had been used a lot, struck an emotional cord causing me to hurry through the rest of the exhibit. The rest of my classmates took their time.

My visit to Berlin made me think more about this sad past. Another thing that fueled my reflection on the Holocaust was being around adults and students on my Rotary trip. I wish I could say that the adults and students were different...I caught a few of the trip leaders (not all) and the bus driver, as well as the students making countless hurtful and prejudiced jokes and comments. The bus driver, for example, called gays "pedophiles and sub-human," he was being serious. Such violent thoughts lead to violent actions, I believe. There happened to be a gay student on the trip with us. The adult Rotarian, leading the trip, listened to the bus driver and said nothing. Later, the trip leader made sweeping generalizations about Mexican-Americans that I found horribly offensive. Ironically, at the same moment he was asking me about whether I agreed with what he believed was a fantastic idea to build more walls on the Mexican border to keep others out, we were at the sight of the old Berlin Wall....

If you are wondering how the above comments relate to the Holocaust...The lesson of WWII is that large-scale persecution begins with people being treated differently at a small level. I believe that words are as poweful as actions and have the ability to become actions.

The Holocaust did not happen overnight. It started with the government whittling away freedoms. For example, at one point Jews had a strict curfew when they could go outdoors, they could not ride trams, own bikes (this would have been a big deal in Holland); they could not visit Christians, date Christians, go to the cinema or swim in swimming pools. And, it wasn't that long ago (during my parent's childhood) in America, when both Jews and African Americans were forbidden to swim in many private swimming pools....

The point of this post is two-fold. First, it is to tell a bit about my family history. The second point is to help us see connections between the injustice of the Holocaust and today. We must be on the lookout for inequity in our own backyards, whether it is the earth being destroyed, or schools that do not teach reading and writing early enough or wages that are higher for men than for women, or not high enough period. It is a reminder for us to have the courage to say something when we hear destructive remarks made about people. Even when it is unpopular to do so. We adults need to serve as positive role-models for young people. And, it is never too late to give up prejudices. Also, by giving what we can to charities and groups, volunteering, and being on boards and in organizations (like Rotary, the American Civil Liberties Union or Amnesty International, for example)we do our part to create the world we want to live in. A just world. A world worth fighting for.