Holocaust – Page 35

Vilna, the place, its people

It is a master storyteller who can make you feel like you’ve met someone you never knew, visited a city to which you’ve never been, make you long for a people, place and culture you’ve never experienced but from a generation, location and language once, twice or thrice removed. Abraham Karpinowitz (1913-2004) is such a writer. And, thanks to local master storyteller and translator Helen Mintz, more of us can now visit Karpinowitz’s Vilna – a city full of colorful characters, both real and not, and share in a small part of their lives.

Vilna My Vilna (Syracuse University Press, 2016) is a collection of 13 short stories and two brief memoirs by Karpinowitz, translated from Yiddish into English by Mintz. For context and a better understanding of Karpinowitz and his work – notably one of the main “characters” in his writing, Vilna – there is a foreword by Justin Cammy, an associate professor of Jewish studies and comparative literature at Smith College in Massachusetts, and an introduction by Mintz. These two scholarly essays are invaluable, but if you’re completely unfamiliar with Karpinowitz, perhaps jump ahead and read a few of the stories before heading back to these parts of the book. It’s kind of a Catch-22, in that their insight enhances the enjoyment of the stories, but the stories enhance the understanding of the analysis and history.

Romantics will appreciate most the linked stories of “The Folklorist” and “Chana-Merka the Fishwife.” In the first tale, Rubinshteyn heads to the Vilna fish market to collect material for YIVO (the Yiddish Scientific Institute) because he knows that, if the “genuine language of the people” is not documented, “it would be a great loss for the culture.” Dedicated to his work, and a dedicated bachelor, he fails to notice that Chana-Merka has fallen in love with him and, once his research is complete, he stops visiting the fish market, much to her – and his – sadness. In the second tale, Chana-Merka heads to YIVO herself to make sure that Max Weinreich, its director, knows from whom all of Rubinshteyn’s material came: she makes lists of curses for Weinreich, such as “May you speak so beautifully that only cats understand you,” and “May you be lucky and go crazy in a more important city than Vilna.”

Weinreich is one of the real people who appear in this collection where fiction and non-fiction meld. Yoysef Giligitsh, a teacher at the Re’al Gymnasium, is another. Most readers will not be able to identify all of these people and, while there will be added realism for those who can, the characters stand on their own. Besides, these people are secondary to the protagonists, who are the fishwives, the prostitutes, the criminals, the poor.

Despite that everyone is trying to eke out an existence, even the criminals follow a moral code. For example, Karpinowitz notes, in “Vilna, Vilna, Our Native City” that the Golden Flag criminal organization’s constitution includes the admonition, “Our members should behave properly and not forget that even though we are who we are, we are still Jews,” and that “[t]here was a directive for the general treasury to provide dowries for poor brides.”

Karpinowitz pokes fun at communism, capitalism, politics in general. His descriptions put readers right into the scene, almost as if they’re standing on the opposite street corner watching events unfold. And he has some wonderful turns of phrase. In “Shibele’s Lottery Ticket,” for example, Sheyndel’s husband goes off to fill the water bucket and never returns: “Sheyndel missed her husband, the shiksa chaser, less than the bucket.”

Or, in one of the two memoirs, “The Tree Beside the Theatre,” Karpinowitz writes about his father’s choice to sell his print shop to run a theatre, “If he’d stayed in the print shop, he’d be a rich man. My mother reminded him of this every time she couldn’t cover expenses. But everything in the print shop, including the machines and the letters, was black, and everything in the theatre was colorful, even the poverty.”

Karpinowitz’s characters have self-dignity and hope. They are not passive, for the most part, but are actively trying to change their situation for the better or to help someone else. Not surprisingly, many of the stories have bleak endings, with the narratives going from charming and/or humorous to horrific, illustrating just how abruptly and brutally this world came to an end.

These stories that turn on a dime are so moving. They emphasize just how little people at the time understood that most of them would soon be murdered. As Karpinowitz writes in “Vilna, Vilna, Our Native City”: “For years, a Jew with blue spectacles stood on Daytshe Street begging, ‘Take me across to the other side.’ His plea was so heartrending that, rather than asking to be taken across the few cobblestones separating Gitke Toybe’s Lane from Yiddishe Street, he sounded like he needed to cross a deep and dangerous abyss. Maybe he was the first Jew in Vilna with a premonition about the Holocaust. Just the name of the street, Daytshe Gas, German Street, drove him from one side to the other. We could all see the little water pump and Yoshe’s kvass stall on the other side of the street, but through his dark spectacles, that Jew saw farther. Fate didn’t take him to the safer side. He ended up in the abyss at Ponar with everyone else.”

Karpinowitz survived the Holocaust in the Soviet Union, having left Vilna in 1937. He briefly returned in 1944 and then, after two years in a displaced persons camp in Cyprus, moved to Israel. Mintz notes that he wrote seven works of fiction, two biographies, a play and five short story collections. He was awarded the Manger Prize (1981), among several other honors.

In the stories of Vilna My Vilna, the geography of the city is integral, and the maps included are useful in situating the action. The glossary is also an essential part of the book: kvass, for example, is a “fermented beverage made from black or regular rye bread.”

Adding even more value to this collection are three illustrations by Yosl Bergner that were in the original 1967 Yiddish publication of Karpinowitz’s Baym Vilner durkhhoyf and the painting “Soutine Street” by Samuel Bak is the cover of Vilna My Vilna. Both artists (and the Pucker Gallery, in the case of Bak’s painting) gave permission for their work to be used at no charge, which is an indication of the translation’s import beyond entertainment.

Mintz’s acknowledgements are many, and that she accepted so much input into the book speaks volumes about her integrity and the quality of her work. “Translating these stories brought me great joy,” she writes. “While never swerving from the truth, Abraham Karpinowitz answered genocide with love: love for his characters and love for his craft as a writer.” With Vilna My Vilna, Mintz adds her love, and that of many others, to ensure that Vilna, its people and its stories will not be forgotten.

Revenge story with humor

Before you get to the fifth page of text, it will become apparent that you haven’t yet encountered a period. Don’t be put off by that. Curt Leviant’s King of Yiddish (Livingston Press, 2015) is a page-turner. It is a comedic tour de force, interspersed with a detective story that will have you following Shmulik Gafni through Poland in an obsessive pursuit. He is hunting the man he witnessed murdering his father and uncle in Kielce, Poland, a pogrom that occurred 14 months after the end of the Second World War.

Shmulik is described as an “overlyfull professor” of Yiddish at the fictional University of Israel in Jerusalem. The pogrom in Kielce is a well-known tragedy that did occur, but Leviant’s fertile imagination weaves an original tapestry from that terrible time and place.

So, where’s the comedy? The humor centres around a basic human failing: men will be men, and Shmulik falls under the spell of Malina, a Polish Catholic linguist determined to become proficient in Yiddish. She also happens to be half Shmulik’s age and is unbelievably beautiful and well built. Malina is his second obsession.

The two stories, solving his father’s murder and getting to the bottom (and the top) of Malina, are interspersed narratives that keep you guessing and entertained. Along the way, the reader encounters a Chassidic un-kosher kidnapping that goes awry (imagine the Marx brothers in black hats) and a bris (kosher or not depending on whether you are Orthodox or Reform) that are grist for Leviant’s mill of linguistic tomfoolery. You meet other academics, letting you in on university rivalries and gossip. Believe it or not, but a cookie with an incredible miniature topping in a Vienna café is an important character in the plot development that might have been written by Kafka, Borges or Nabokov, but it is pure Leviant, plying his considerable art as a fabulist.

Leviant also steps outside the narrative and talks to the reader. At one point, the author says you can skip a chapter. Take my advice: keep reading. As you join Gafni in his quest for justice, you will also find allusions to previous works by Leviant. These, he jokingly attributes to famous Hebrew and Yiddish writers, telling us that other colleagues translated those books. One of these is the Icelandic writer, C. Urtl Eviant, a self-referential invention who also plays a role in King of Yiddish.

Considering all the word play in English, Yiddish and Hebrew, my favorite occurs when a colleague of Shmulik’s is calling 911. He tells the operator he is a linguist with the City University of New York. Propriety in a family publication requires you figure it out for yourself. Revealing any of the other plot twists would spoil the fun.

If you have read Leviant’s other critically acclaimed fiction, you will catch many of the references here. If you haven’t, you may want to back up and read some of his earlier novels. The Yemenite Girl, The Man Who Thought He Was Messiah and Diary of an Adulterous Woman are good places to start. He has produced a body of work that has been widely translated throughout Europe.

John Irving has written that he always composes the last few sentences of his novels before he begins page one. Leviant must have done this with his novel. For those of you who like to look at the end of a book before you begin … please resist. King of Yiddish is a gripping narrative that will fascinate you from the opening paragraph to its surprising last.

Sidney Kessler is a freelance writer in Glen Allen, Va. His most recent articles have appeared in the Wall Street Journal and the Richmond Times-Dispatch.

The old town that Jan built

Zamosc town hall. (photo by Tomasz Zugaj)

If you were rolling in money, what would you do with it? Would you build a town for yourself? That’s what Jan Zamoyski did.

As you approach the town’s main square, you might be inclined to think that someone has fooled with your itinerary. On first glance, it might well appear that somehow you have been detoured from Poland to Italy. Before you stands Zamosc, which can only be described as a stunning example of a planned, late-16th century Renaissance town. Designed by Italian architect Bernardo Morando, it follows the model of the citta ideale, or ideal town.

More than 400 brutal years have passed since the town’s inception. Yet, Zamosc has remarkably withstood the enormous devastation of the Second World War and the utilitarian, unesthetic architecture of the communist era. It largely retains its original layout, a large number of original buildings and fortifications.

Zamosc stands in southeast Poland, 142 miles (228 kilometres) from Warsaw. Zamoyski founded Zamosc on his own property in 1589. He was an intriguing character, an extremely wealthy and educated man who juggled a variety of careers, including in the military and politics. He was a hetman (head of the army) and a chancellor. His taste in things Italian probably began during his student days at the University of Padua.

photo - A statute of Jan Zamoyski, founder of Zamosc — A statute of Jan Zamoyski, founder of Zamosc. *(photo by Tomasz Zugaj)*

While he was an army man, Zamoyski’s focus in establishing Zamosc was seemingly more economic than military. It should be noted, however, that he did not forget to commission an imposing fortress and city ramparts.

Located on the trade route linking western and northern Europe with the Black Sea, Zamoyski envisioned Zamosc as a thriving trade centre. He invited Italian, Turkish and Dutch Jewish merchants to work and live in his new town. His liberal policy toward outsiders was likewise extended to Armenian, Greek and Scottish merchants, and to Ruthenes (Slavs of the Orthodox Church). His outreach to foreigners did not spring as much from liberality, as from a strong desire to see Zamosc succeed. At the time, all of the mentioned ethnic groups had reputations for jump-starting floundering economies.

Zamoyski’s concerns went beyond the economic, though. As an intellectual ruler who was likewise a devout Roman Catholic, he had an academy – located today at Academy and Perec Streets – a high court and a large church, which was originally dedicated to Saint Thomas the Apostle and the resurrection, but was elevated in 1992 to cathedral status, and an imposing palace centrally constructed. Altogether, Zamosc’s buildings reflect the idea that institutions should be in physical harmony with the residents of a town. Just as the organs of the body support the human being, so Zamosc’s institutions were designed to organically mesh with the populace.

As mentioned, when Zamoyski decided to build his town, he imported a skilled Italian architect. It seems clear, however, that the chancellor also considered Morando because of his sensitivity to Polish culture. Morando had already worked in Poland and had gained an appreciation of Polish life.

The 16th-century Great Market Square features colorful arcaded houses characteristic of Morando’s native Padua. These houses, located at the northern end of the square, were designated for the Armenian merchants, hence the street’s name, Ormianski.

photo - The town’s 17th-century synagogue — The town’s 17th-century synagogue. *(photo by Tomasz Zugaj)*

In length and width, the square measures exactly 100 metres. It is here that the two main axes of the old town cross. The 600-metre longitudinal axis runs east to west: from Bastion No. 7 to the Zamoyski Palace. The 400-metre crosswise axis runs north to south, joining the Great Market Square to the two smaller market squares: Solny (this area, translated as the Salt Market, was assigned to Jewish merchants) and Wodny (translated as the Water Market). The original buildings in these smaller markets complemented those of the Great Market.

The town hall in particular was an enormous enterprise, taking nine years to complete (1591-1600). It was meant to draw attention. And, with its fan-shaped double staircase and imposing tower, it certainly achieved this purpose. During the early part of the construction work (1591-1593), Morando also served as the town mayor. His appointment ended before he was able to hang his name on the door of town hall’s mayoral offices.

In 1992, the town of Zamosc became a UNESCO World Heritage site. Hopefully, this award will help to preserve the beauty of this Renaissance town for years to come.

More on Zamosc

From July 11 to July 18, Zamosc is hosting the international folklore festival Eurofolk. About seven international carriers fly regularly between Vancouver and Warsaw.
Famous people who lived in Zamosc include L.L. Zamenhof, founder of Esperanto. He had the revolutionary idea that hatred would disappear if people spoke the same language. A revolutionary who was born in Zamosc was Rosa Luxemburg.
The old town of Zamosc stands largely intact. Humans fared far worse. For instance, the Jewish population, which had comprised almost half the city’s pre-Holocaust population (12,531), has vanished. Those who could, fled from the Nazis. Others were forced into a ghetto. In a series of four deportations, many Jews were sent to Belzec. Others were shot in marches and in roundups. As a reminder of the once-thriving Jewish community, visit the synagogue (9-11 Zamenhofa St.), which has been undergoing an extensive renovation project.

Deborah Rubin Fields is an Israel-based features writer. She is also the author of Take a Peek Inside: A Child’s Guide to Radiology Exams, published in English, Hebrew and Arabic.

Possibility of a better future

Teens light candles on March of the Living. (photo from March of the Living Canada)

In April 2015, a group of 80 teens, under the guidance of three chaperones and a Holocaust survivor, arrived in Poland for a two-week journey exploring Poland’s tragic events and followed by the joy of celebrating the birth of the Jewish state on Yom Ha’atzmaut.

The mission of March of the Living is to pass the torch of Holocaust memory to new generations. The experience provides young people with an opportunity to bear witness to the Holocaust and to the stories of survivors, so that this important part of our collective history is never forgotten. It is also a unique opportunity to strengthen our children’s Jewish identity and to strengthen their connection to Israel.

The march itself took place on Yom Hashoah, and we marched from Auschwitz to Birkenau with nearly 10,000 other young people. The march commemorates the death marches that the last surviving prisoners were forced to take, where many perished, but a few survived thanks to the liberation by the Allies. It is the most powerful event imaginable, and one that unites all young Jewish and non-Jewish people across the world.

By the end of the trip, these beautiful young people were so open in their expression of their deepest and most profound insights and emotions. They were no longer afraid to show their vulnerability, because the support they received from each other throughout the trip was absolutely unconditional. It was a beautiful experience and a privilege to be a part of.

The commitment to Judaism and Israel that the participants acquire on this trip is so clearly represented in the following statements by March of the Living participant,

Barbie Clark:

“For me, March of the Living created an emotional connection to my tradition, enabling me to understand and appreciate the importance of remembering our history.

“During the trip, we witnessed firsthand the magnitude of mass destruction that occurred during the Holocaust. As we traveled around the country, we were constantly reminded of these horrors in every city, town and community that we visited. At the height of Auschwitz’s productivity, it was able to murder and cremate up to 12,000 Jews a day – a number greater than the mass of us who were able to complete the walk. To realize that every single one of us participating in the march could have been destroyed in the space of one day, defies understanding and description. Also, at Majdanek, we were witness to a horrifying monument containing ashes and bones of … 20,000 Jews killed in the Nazi’s Fall Festival of 1943. This monument is alarmingly large, reiterating the magnitude of what occurred. I found this terrifying and incomprehensible.

“The horrors witnessed in Poland are to be contrasted with what I experienced in Israel,” continued Clark. “While in Israel, I had the unique privilege to witness both Yom Hazikaron – Israel’s Remembrance Day for its soldiers – and Yom Ha’atzmaut, Israel’s birthday. On Yom Ha’atzmaut, the entire country is in celebration – the euphoria is palpable. Despite the sadness one is left with after [bearing] witness, I was left with contagious optimism and hope. Hope for a future without enemies; hope for the Jewish people and the Jewish nation surviving despite all previous oppression.

“The entire experience created for me a new sense of being connected to Judaism, in a way I never thought possible…. The trip symbolized for me all [the] adversity, intolerance and persecution of Jewish people, yet at the same time creating a sense of survival and the possibility of a better future, for not just the Jewish people, but for all mankind.”

Charlotte Katzen, co-chair, March of the Living committee, was a chaperone on the 2015 trip. This article was originally published in Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver’s Yachad. More information about March of the Living, click here. For information on the adult program – which is new this year – click here.

Holocaust awareness

The Post-Survivor Exhibit in Mystic Market, one of the busiest spots on campus. (photo by Chorong Kim)

The following remarks have been modified from the original address given during Hillel Victoria’s Second Annual Holocaust Awareness Presentation during Holocaust Awareness Week, which took place at the University of Victoria Jan. 25-29.

When my co-organizer, Dr. Kristin Semmens in the history department at the University of Victoria, and I embarked on planning Holocaust Awareness Week, we decided to put a call out for poster submissions to include in the Post-Survivor Exhibit to be publicly displayed in Mystic Market, one of the busiest spots on campus. The aim was to feature personal stories of post-survivors – UVic students who are descendants of Holocaust survivors – and we welcomed submissions from survivors of other genocides and atrocities. We thought that, between all the Jewish students and the diverse student body, we would be overflowing with submissions and would struggle to select 20 stories to include in the exhibit. As it turned out, our struggle was to get any submissions at all. Why am I sharing with you our experience of failed expectations? Well, it’s quite simple. This has been a learning experience for us, just as much as it has been for the students we approached to participate in the exhibit.

Many of the Jewish students said they knew very little about their grandparents or their survival story, and felt they didn’t have enough to write personal reflections about it. I was coming from the point of the view that you can write about “not having enough to write about” and attribute that to the implications of being a descendant of a survivor and the negative effects of post-Holocaust syndrome (a form of transferable post-traumatic stress disorder). Others didn’t want to share their story in public and recommended that we ask people to submit anonymously; some were too scared to be identified as Jews on campus. Both Kristin and I were not surprised by the reasons we received but, as advocates of Holocaust awareness and education, we thought the students could overcome their fear and disassociation from their family’s past.

photo - Dr. Orly Salama-Alber, left, and Hannah Faber sing “Mi Ha’Ish,” while Cheryl Noon, left, and Kaitlin Findlay light the second candle — Dr. Orly Salama-Alber, left, and Hannah Faber sing “Mi Ha’Ish,” while Cheryl Noon, left, and Kaitlin Findlay light the second candle. *(photo by Chorong Kim)*

As a granddaughter of Holocaust survivors from Poland (and today Belarus) on my mother’s side and a granddaughter of interned Japanese-Canadians on my father’s side, I can tell you that there are two types of survivors. Those who talk and those who don’t. My maternal safta (grandmother) spoke about the Holocaust and would tell everyone that the only reason she survived was because of her blond hair and blue eyes, whereas, my other three grandparents chose to never talk about what happened to them. So much so, that my Japanese bachan and gichan (grandmother and grandfather) completely abandoned their Japanese heritage and opted to raise their children with English names and, tragically, my maternal saba (grandfather) couldn’t even recall the names or faces of his murdered first wife and baby girl. That’s how he dealt with his past.

I only know about my histories because I wanted to know about them and I asked questions. That got me thinking, how can I ask students to write about their stories if they haven’t gone through this process of asking yet? And who am I to pressure them to do so? I know now that I may have asked too much of the students. Perhaps we are not as ready as I thought to share our stories, let alone share them collectively as an international community.

I thank the handful of students who did send in poster submissions for their bravery in sharing their stories. Each one was on a different page in their personal journey to coping and understanding their family or nation’s past. Some already knew all the details while others had to ask their families for help in obtaining old photographs and putting all the bits and pieces of their grandparents’ stories together into one cohesive personal reflection. One of my students wrote to me on Facebook, “I just found out a ton of information that I didn’t know before, and I’m still kind of processing it”; another texted me saying that, although they have decided not to submit a story, this has started a personal desire to find out more about their family’s history. Coming to terms with the past is not easy, we all need healing and we all have the right to look to a brighter future.

photo - Carmel Tanaka with, left to right, Dawn Smith, Thomas Laboucan-Avirom and Rachelle Trenholm of the Indigenous Law Students Association — Carmel Tanaka with, left to right, Dawn Smith, Thomas Laboucan-Avirom and Rachelle Trenholm of the Indigenous Law Students Association. *(photo by Chorong Kim)*

This weeklong exhibit and the presentation today have already served their purpose – Holocaust awareness. It was not smooth sailing organizing this event. The Holocaust is a very sensitive subject and everyone has their views on how to approach Holocaust education. I am very moved by the outpouring of support from participating organizations in our very diverse community. May this be an example of collaboration, tolerance, compassion and love towards our ultimate goal: peace on this campus, in our community and around the world.

Traditionally, during Holocaust commemorations, six memorial candles are lit to represent the six million Jewish lives lost in the Holocaust. Today, we have chosen to light seven memorial candles, to be lit by UVic students representing various communities and causes, with our seventh candle symbolizing our hope. Performing “Mi Ha’Ish” is post-doctoral fellow Dr. Orly Salama-Alber, accompanied by Hannah Faber, the volunteer coordinator of UVic’s Jewish Students Association, and the same song that has been incorporated into our gift to Dawn Smith, who performed the First Nations acknowledgement earlier. In English, the lyrics read: “Who desires life, loving each day to see good? Then guard your tongue from evil and your lips from speaking deceit. Turn from evil and do good, seek peace and pursue it.” (Psalm 34:12-4)

Our first candle will be lit by undergraduate students Shelly Selivanov, Paige Gelfer and Anat Kelerstein and master’s student Keenan Anthony, grandchildren of Holocaust survivors, and they will be lighting on behalf of the six million Jews who perished in the Shoah.

Our second candle will be lit by I-witness Field School student Cheryl Noon and history graduate student Kaitlin Findlay on behalf of all other persecuted victims of the Holocaust.

photo - Holocaust educators at UVic, left to right, Dr. Helga Thorson, chair, Germanic and Slavic studies department; history professor Dr. Kristin Semmens; and Dr. Charlotte Schallié, co-chair of the European Studies Program — Holocaust educators at UVic, left to right, Dr. Helga Thorson, chair, Germanic and Slavic studies department; history professor Dr. Kristin Semmens; and Dr. Charlotte Schallié, co-chair of the European Studies Program. (photo by Chorong Kim)

Our third candle will be lit by international students Moe Ezzine and Abbie Urquia, who are members of the African Awareness Club, on behalf of all the victims of genocide, including, but not limited to, the Armenian genocide, the Rwandan genocide, the Ukrainian genocide and, more recently, the Syrian genocide.

Our fourth candle will be lit by student advocates Lane Foster and Maks Zouboules from the Sexualized Violence Task Force on behalf of all victims of sexualized violence on and off campus.

Our fifth candle will be lit by undergraduate student Nicola Craig Hora and graduate student Lauren Thompson, who are co-designing a teaching unit on the Holocaust for high school students, on behalf of all the children whose lives were cut short and were robbed of their bright futures.

Our sixth candle will be lit by members of the Indigenous Law Students Association, Thomas Laboucan-Avirom and Rachelle Trenholm, on behalf of all victims of residential schools and Japanese internment camps here in Canada.

Our seventh and final candle, our candle of hope, will be lit by Multifaith Services work-study students Olivia Bos and Gabriela Turla, on behalf of all humanity, regardless of their race, religion, creed and sexual orientation.

photo - Team leader Mike Brosselard from Campus Security — Team leader Mike Brosselard from Campus Security. (photo by Chorong Kim)

On stage, between the candles is our broken window. This window is shattered and represents Kristallnacht, the night of Nov. 9, 1938, on which a massive coordinated attack on Jews occurred and swept across Europe, marking the beginning of the Holocaust. This night is otherwise known as the Night of Broken Glass. Throughout this presentation, we will be reclaiming the broken pieces of glass and rebuilding this very window in a communal act of resilience.

The eight window pieces were placed by members or representatives of the following groups: 1) First Nations community; 2) UVic Multifaith Services; 3) Jewish Federation of Victoria and Vancouver Island; 4) UVic Holocaust educators; 5) Campus Security; 6) student leaders (Jewish Students Association, Indigenous Law Students Association, History Undergraduate Society, Multifaith Services work-study students, Germanic and Slavic studies students, I-witness Field School students, and student advocates from African Awareness Club and Sexualized Violence Task Force); 7) UVic administration (Equity and Human Rights Office); and 8) children of Holocaust survivors and members of the Kristallnacht planning committee.

It takes a community to overcome trauma and rebuild a peaceful future. It also takes a community to prevent trauma from happening in the first place.

Carmel Tanaka is the Hillel BC director at the University of Victoria, a granddaughter of Holocaust survivors and an advocate for Holocaust awareness.

March of the Living impact

March of the Living International (MOLI) has published a study examining the effects that the program has had on its participants. The educational program takes, on average, 10,000-20,000 students annually to Poland and Israel with the goal of educating and inspiring future generations to learn from the destruction of the European continent during the Second World War. MOLI accepts applicants from all walks of life and religions, hoping to ensure that not only is the Holocaust not forgotten, but also that it is never repeated.

The report studies the impacts that the program has on its Jewish participants, and highlights the educational and religious changes that the program has inspired since its creation in 1988. Of the population surveyed, most initially signed on to the program in order to better understand their Jewish culture. Many of the participants in the study said that the program has directly impacted them, leading many to visit, study in or move to Israel. Fifty percent of the respondents said that the program caused them to consider moving to Israel later in life.

The study was conducted by Prof. William Helmreich of CUNY Graduate Centre and the Colin Powell School at City College, a sociologist and expert on ethnic identity. “What’s most remarkable about the March is how deeply it impacts participants over a period of many years,” he states. “These include life choices like selecting a mate, moving to Israel and career choices. In addition, it greatly impacts not only on Jewish identity but also on compassion toward other people as well.”

Indeed, 54% of respondents said that the March had made them more tolerant towards other groups. And the effect increases over the years, as 66% of those who attended the March 10 years ago, reported it had made them more tolerant.

The study also found that 86% of the participants asserted the importance in their spouse being Jewish, and 91% in raising their children with some sort of Jewish education; 65% felt the importance of raising their children in a Jewish neighborhood.

Of those surveyed, 90% felt the March instilled in them the importance of reacting to confrontations with antisemitism, and 95% stated the March had strengthened their sense of Jewish identity.

“To think that the March is such a successful program in terms of ensuring and enhancing Jewish identity and in making people realize the importance of engaging as a Jew within their communities and caring for those outside of them, truly illustrates the goals that we had when initially forming the first March so many years ago,” said Dr. Shmuel Rosenman, MOLI chair.

March of the Living brings individuals to Poland and Israel to study the history of the Holocaust and to examine the roots of prejudice, intolerance and hate. Since the first March in 1988, more than 220,000 participants from 52 countries have marched down the same three-kilometre path leading from Auschwitz to Birkenau on Yom Hashoah as a silent tribute to all victims of the Holocaust. March of the Living is a partnership between March of the Living International, local MOTL foundations, the Claims Conference, individual donors, private philanthropists and Jewish communities around the world. Visit motl.org.

A long time in China

A model of the Kaifeng synagogue at an exhibit at the Diaspora Museum in Tel Aviv in 2011. (photo by Sodabottle via commons.wikimedia.org)

With the Chinese New Year taking place next week, it is an appropriate time to reflect on the close and positive relationship between Jewish and Chinese peoples, which reaches back almost 2,000 years.

It might be simplest to begin with the fall of Jerusalem to the Romans in the year 70 of the Common Era. This was the climax of the first of three Jewish-Roman wars that would take place over the first and second centuries. The net result of these conflicts was the deaths of hundreds of thousands of Jews, the enslavement of many others, and those who managed to escape such tragedies fled as refugees. This scattering of Jews across the world we call the Diaspora ultimately resulted in the formation of the various communities we are familiar with today, such as the Ashkenazi, Sephardi and Mizrahi Jews. But there was a smaller, lesser-known Diaspora community that settled in China.

Between 206 BCE and 220 CE, China was ruled by the Han Dynasty. The Han established a vast international trading network that came to be known as the Silk Road. According to the oral history of the Chinese Jews, their ancestors first settled in China during the late Han Dynasty. Such a period would correspond with the Diaspora that followed the Jewish-Roman wars.

After the collapse of the Han Dynasty, the Silk Road trading network collapsed, but was reestablished in 639 CE during the Tang Dynasty. The Silk Road interconnected Tang Dynasty China with the wealthy states of India, East and North Africa, across Asia and into Europe. During the Medieval period, many Jews made their living as merchants. At this time, Christians and Muslims refused to trade directly with each other, and Jews earned great profits acting as intermediaries.

Many Jews traded along the Silk Road, the most prominent group of whom were the Radhanites, who inevitably found themselves in China. It is during this period that the first document indicating the presence of Jews in China has been found. It describes how a rebel leader executed foreign merchants and Jewish residents in the city of Guangzhou. Discovered at an important stop along the Silk Road in northwest China, the document dating to some point around the eighth or ninth centuries was written in a Jewish-Persian script on paper, which at the time would have only been available in China. Some historians have suggested that the Radhanites were responsible for bringing Chinese paper technology to Europe, although this theory is contested. The presence of Jews in Guangzhou at this time should not be surprising, considering it was an important port city linking Chinese and Middle Eastern trade. Guangzhou has one of the oldest mosques in the world and, at the beginning of the ninth century, may have had a population of as many as 100,000 foreigners.

In 908 CE, the Tang Dynasty fell, the Silk Road trading network again collapsed for several centuries and the prominence of the Radhanites declined. But this did not mean the end of the Jewish presence in China. Between 960 and 1279 CE, China was ruled by the innovative and prosperous Song Dynasty, with their capital city at Kaifeng. Kaifeng has been described as the New York of its day. It was a massive cosmopolitan city, a centre of global trade and the largest city in the world, reaching a population of 1.5 million people.

Though Jews would settle in other cities, such as Hangzhou, Ningbo, Ningxia and Yangzhou, most were in Kaifeng, and it became the centre of Chinese Jewry. The first synagogue was built in Kaifeng in 1163 CE. It was made of wood, in a Chinese architectural style. It would be destroyed and rebuilt many times throughout its history. The Jews of Kaifeng were held in high esteem by the Song emperors, and went on to pursue successful careers not only as merchants, but as court officials, scholars and soldiers. There is still a Kaifeng Jewish community today.

In the early 12th century, the first Jin emperor, Wanyan Aguda, unified the Jurchen, a group of tribal peoples living in Manchuria. The Jurchen waged war against the Song Dynasty and, in 1127, Jurchen forces conquered Kaifeng, an event that has come to be known as the Jinkang Incident. After this battle, the Song capital was moved south to Hangzhou, and many of the Kaifeng Jews accompanied the Song rulers in their migration. Nevertheless, there were some who stayed in Kaifeng. The Jurchen established the Jin Dynasty, and continued to wage war against the Song Dynasty for more than 100 years. Eventually, both the Jin and the Song were conquered by the Mongols in the 13th century.

In 1232, the Mongols besieged Kaifeng. During the conflict, the Jin used rockets against the Mongol invaders, which is the first use of rockets in warfare in recorded history; a technology all-too-familiar to the modern residents of Israel. In the mid-14th century, the Mongol rulers of China established the Yuan Dynasty, with their capital in Beijing. When Marco Polo traveled to Beijing in 1266, he wrote about the importance of Jewish merchants there.

In 1276, the Mongols conquered the Song capital of Hangzhou. In 1280, the Mongol emperor, Kublai Khan, issued a decree banning Jews from kosher practices and circumcision. Yuan Dynasty documents written in 1329 and 1354 issue a request of Jewish residents in China to go to Beijing to pay taxes. Though many atrocities occurred during the Mongol invasions, their rule was nevertheless marked by flourishing trade and the Jewish communities of China persisted.

At the site of the synagogue in Kaifeng, several stone steles have been recovered. The oldest, written in 1489, commemorates the construction of the synagogue in 1163. It describes how the Jews first entered China during the late Han Dynasty, and the Jinkang Incident, including how many of the Jewish population of Kaifeng fled to Hangzhou. Also inscribed on this stele were the following words: “The Confucian religion and this religion agree on essential points and differ in secondary ones.”

A second stone stele was made in 1512, which describes Jewish religious practices, which is fascinating considering it is written in Chinese. In 1642, a third stele commemorated the reconstruction of the synagogue in Kaifeng after it was destroyed by a flood. The synagogue was destroyed again by a flood in 1841, but was not rebuilt. This is likely due to the sociopolitical turmoil occurring in China at the time. It is interesting to note that, while Jews were persecuted, rejected and alienated by the nations of Europe, they were accepted and assimilated into Chinese culture.

During the 19th and early 20th centuries, persecution of Jews in Europe began again on a massive scale. The worst events of these times were the many pogroms in the Russian Empire, where hundreds of thousands of Jews were murdered, raped, robbed. Many Jews were forced to flee as refugees, some migrating to North America, some to Palestine, and some to China. The Russian Revolution in 1917 resulted in the deaths of around 250,000 Jews, and the orphaning of around 300,000 Jewish children. Many Russian Jews fled to the city of Harbin, in Manchuria, whose Jewish population reached 20,000. However, when the Japanese annexed Manchuria in 1931, many among that population left for Shanghai, Tianjin or Palestine.

Many Chinese intellectuals understood the plight of the Jewish people, and compared it to their own. The Chinese Nationalist and founder of the Republic of China, Dr. Sun Yat-sen, made the following comparison: “Though their country was destroyed, the Jewish nation has existed to this day…. Zionism is one of the greatest movements of the present time. All lovers of democracy cannot help but support wholeheartedly and welcome with enthusiasm the movement to restore your wonderful and historic nation, which has contributed so much to the civilization of the world and which rightfully deserves an honorable place in the family of nations.”

During the course of the Second World War, the Jewish population in China would swell to 40,000, many of whom resided in Shanghai. A number of Chinese diplomats helped smuggle in Jews using special protective passports. One such hero, a Chinese diplomat working in Vienna named Ho Feng Shan, helped Jews from Nazi-occupied Europe get to China, ultimately saving around 3,000 lives. Ho Feng Shan was posthumously awarded the title Righteous Among Nations by Yad Vashem in 2001.

photo - A plaque erected at Shanghai Jewish Refugees Museum and Ohel Moishe Synagogue in China in honor of the late Chinese diplomat Ho Feng Shan (1901-1997) who saved thousands of Jews between 1938 and 1940 — A plaque erected at Shanghai Jewish Refugees Museum and Ohel Moishe Synagogue in China in honor of the late Chinese diplomat Ho Feng Shan (1901-1997) who saved thousands of Jews between 1938 and 1940. *(photo by Harvey Barrison via commons.wikimedia.org)*

In 1943, the Japanese forced the 20,000 Jews living in Shanghai into a ghetto that was around one square kilometre in size, with conditions described as squalid, impoverished and overcrowded. The Shanghai ghetto was also inhabited by some 100,000 Chinese residents.

The Nazis pressured the Japanese to execute the 40,000 Jews living in China, but the Japanese purposefully delayed the planned atrocity, ultimately saving the Jews’ lives. When the Japanese military governor of Shanghai informed the leaders of the Jewish community of the planned execution and asked them why the Germans hated them, one rabbi responded by saying “because we are short and dark-haired,” a reply that allegedly caused a smile to appear on the serious face of the governor. After the war, most of the Jews in China migrated to the newly formed state of Israel.

Ben Leyland is an Israeli-Canadian writer, and resident of Vancouver.

Memorial reflects loss, hope

On Jan. 26, Robyn Driedger-Klassen (soprano), Joseph Elworthy (cello), Mark Ferris (violin), François Houle (clarinet) and Mark Fenster (baritone) will be joined by Lani Krantz (harp) and Kozue Matsumoto (koto) in a performance of Renia Perel’s Songs of the Wasteland. (photo by Lindsay Elliott)

On the eve of International Holocaust Remembrance Day, Jan. 26, Renia Perel’s Songs of the Wasteland will be presented by the Vancouver Academy of Music (VAM).

The musical memoir is written for two singers and an instrumental ensemble. The first part, “From Tragedy to Triumph,” features songs of remembrance, including to the children who died in the ghettos and to Perel’s family who were killed – she and her sister Henia were the only ones who escaped. The second half, “Survival,” begins with a song Perel dedicates to her husband, Morris, who passed away in 1999, and concludes with “Jerusalem,” Perel’s hope that, one day, there will be no more war.

“I regard Songs of the Wasteland as an epochal work of art that hopefully will in future be as commonly heard during times of Holocaust remembrance as say Britten’s War Requiem during Nov. 11 observances,” Joseph Elworthy, executive director of VAM, told the Independent. “This was one of our far-reaching goals when I first discussed with Renia about mounting the production on Jan. 26, the eve of the UN International Holocaust Remembrance Day.”

Perel approached Elworthy in December 2014 about collaborating with VAM, he said, “as she held a long-standing respect and admiration for the quality of music education we deliver. Songs of the Wasteland was the perfect instrument to realize this desire.”

And Perel’s work connects to VAM’s vision and purpose.

“VAM believes in the transformative power of music to influence our personal development and daily existence,” he explained. “Music has the power to express the inexpressible while allowing room for the listener to formulate their own inner narrative. It is not surprising that Renia turned to music to express her sense of loss and remembrance for the victims of the Holocaust.”

Elworthy also noted, “It is important to point out that VAM is first and foremost an educational institution and not a concert-presenting organization. This allows us more liberty to choose repertoire and projects that will bring educational value for our 1,400-plus students, as well as the community of music appreciators throughout Greater Vancouver.”

This will only be the second public presentation of the work. Elworthy – who, in addition to being executive director of VAM, serves as the head of the academy’s cello department – will take on the cello part.

“The cello so closely resembles the timbres of the human voice, therefore making it a perfect instrument to capture the beautiful nuances of the Jewish liturgical tradition, which are so rooted in song,” he said. “The cello writing for Songs of the Wasteland is exquisite and greatly reminds me of established cello masterpieces such as Max Bruch’s Kol Nidrei and Ernest Bloch’s Schelomo.”

Elworthy will be joined by VAM faculty members Mark Ferris (violin) and Robyn Driedger-Klassen (soprano), as well as Mark Fenster (baritone), François Houle (clarinet), Lani Krantz (harp) and Kozue Matsumoto (koto).

“We are fortunate to have Mark Ferris (VAM violin faculty and concertmaster of the Vancouver Opera Orchestra) as the music director of this production,” said Elworthy. “Mark was part of the original cast and has great insight to the totality of this composition.”

Also part of the original performance was Fenster, the eldest child of Holocaust survivors.

“When Mark Ferris called me and described the piece, I was immediately interested, mainly because of my own family heritage and musical connection with Yiddish and cantorial singing,” said Fenster about why he chose to participate in the 2010 presentation. “Then, later, when I met with Renia and discovered that she and my father lived quite close to one another in prewar Poland, this was an even stronger reason – I could, with my small part, possibly help these two souls, and the many others this piece would surely touch, find some peaceful healing through the expressions in this powerful piece.”

While the music and message of the work remain the same, Fenster said, it somehow “feels more intense this time. I cannot say why. Perhaps because there seems to be more publicity, more media coverage, more interest in the story behind the music, the composer’s journey and her wishes, or because there seems to be intolerance and hatred quite present in the news today. Also, since it is being performed at the VAM this time rather than the Telus Theatre in the Chan Centre, I also feel this may offer a more intimate performance experience for the audience.”

Fenster said that, in performing the work again, his “feelings around the healing and peace-wishing elements of the piece have grown stronger, more profound. Otherwise, I still feel very much as I did in 2010. I still see my mom and dad, their (our) families, and all they went through. And I also see and feel the hurt so many still carry, the ripples from these times and how they have projected into our beings, no matter which faith or personal connection. We’re all affected.”

What also hasn’t changed for Fenster since 2010 are the emotions that Songs of the Wasteland invoke.

“The most difficult work for me in singing this piece is being able to share this art with an honest, open heart, but without it drawing me to tears,” he said. “It took me several weeks of practise in 2010 to get past the tears, and it hasn’t become any easier this time…. I hope we all realize that it doesn’t matter which flag is flying or being torn down, the result is always the same – deep experiences of loss, pain, for us all, from generation to generation. I hope this heartful piece penetrates our fears and leads us to the light that guides us to see love in everyone. That is what I believe is offered in all the scriptures in every tongue.”

One of Fenster’s personal and professional goals is to help people feel peace, believe in themselves and find their own unique joy. In that context, he said, “I wish my own parents could be here to see, hear and feel this piece and all that the composer, arranger, musicians and technicians are sharing. I know they would cry, and smile, and inside they would feel a sense of completeness, a sense that what they went through is understood, compassionately accepted, and that it has led to some wonderful miracles, like their own gratitude, liberation, joy and family.”

For more on Renia Perel’s life and musical work, see “Renia Perel is a ‘survivor who is blessed.” For tickets to Vancouver Academy of Music’s Jan. 26, 7:30 p.m., performance of Songs of the Wasteland, visit vam.eventbrite.ca.

Germany trip changes views

In fall 2015, Yael Levin, third from the right, participated in the program Jewish Life in Germany – Past, Present and Future. (photo from Yael Levin)

Last year marked 50 years of diplomatic relations between Germany and Israel. To celebrate this milestone, events took place everywhere. The Canadian West Coast was no exception. The Centre for Israel and Jewish Affairs, Pacific Region, was approached by the German Consulate in Vancouver to plan the celebrations locally.

I had the privilege of working with a fantastic team at the consulate. I was impressed by the fact that everyone, from the consul general himself to the person that welcomes visitors, was involved. Among other activities, we held a concert by operatic soprano Johanna Krumin and pianist Markus Zugehör performing pieces by Jewish and non-Jewish German composers.

Following months of hard work, it was not only a memorable celebration with the German and Jewish communities but also a strong relationship that led the consul general in Vancouver, Josef Beck, to invite me to participate in the program Jewish Life in Germany – Past, Present and Future. Put together by the Federal Foreign Office and the Goethe Institute, the fall program packed eight days of nonstop activities that allowed North American Jewish professionals and lay leaders to visit Germany and explore both the current reality of Jewish German life, as well as the Israel-Germany relationship.

photo - Interior of Ohel Jakob, Munich’s main synagogue — Interior of Ohel Jakob, Munich’s main synagogue. *(photo from Yael Levin)*

My experiences on this trip could fill several pages so I will share just a few that left a special impression on me.

We began with a visit to Berlin’s historic Jewish Quarter, on the trail of Moses Mendelssohn. We visited the site of the first synagogue, the Centrum Judaicum, the old Jewish cemetery, the Jewish high school and the house of the world’s first female rabbi, Regina Jonas, ordained during the Nazi regime in 1935. Hers is a little-known and fascinating story that would be an inspiration for every Jewish woman (and man).

Following the theme of female leadership, we sat with Deidre Berger, managing director of the American Jewish Committee in Berlin to discuss their work lobbying the government on issues that affect the Jewish community and Israel, such as the European Union’s newly adopted guidelines for labeling goods from Israel’s disputed territories, combating the boycott, divestment and sanction movement, and antisemitism. Their work doesn’t stop there: they are actively engaged in Jewish interfaith dialogue, particularly with the Turkish community, and they work closely with the government helping develop civic education curricula in schools.

The next day, we moved to the subject of anti-terrorism at the Federal Ministry of the Interior, where we spoke with Richard Reinfeld, head of Division ÖS II 3, the office of terrorism and extremism by foreigners. Among other topics, we heard about the great cooperation between Israel and Germany in terms of intelligence exchange.

After the imperative, behind-the-scenes visit to the Jewish Museum of Berlin, the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe and the Topography of Terror Foundation, we had the opportunity to meet with Gerhard Friedrich Schlaudraff, head of the Near East division of the Federal Foreign Office, which covers Israel and all its neighbors. It was frustrating to confirm something that we all know: while there is always someone on the Israeli front to be held accountable for negotiations with the Palestinian Authority, no reliable partner can be found on the PA side.

photo - The “Corridor of Remembrance” inside Ohel Jakob commemorates the 4,587 Munich Jewish citizens murdered by the Nazis — The “Corridor of Remembrance” inside Ohel Jakob commemorates the 4,587 Munich Jewish citizens murdered by the Nazis. *(photo from Yael Levin)*

We left Berlin after meeting with some of the many Israelis that continue to move to the city. More than 18,000 Israelis have made Berlin their home. Listening to their stories got me thinking about our homeland. Many leave Israel, we were told, because it has become hard to stay, a situation they described with words like “incredibly expensive,” “stressful,” “constant anxiety” and “hopelessness.” I still have mixed feelings about this. While I’m happy they are able to live in a situation that is better for them, I think about the irony: the very place where, years ago, life became absolutely unsustainable for Jews has today become a safe haven of sorts for many.

Our next stop was Munich, where we met with some outstanding people. Listening to Janne Weinzierl from the Stolpersteine Initiative was uplifting. This initiative is a whole topic on its own, but, for now, I will just say that this woman and her husband, neither of whom is Jewish, have volunteered tirelessly to keep the memory of thousands of Jews, and other minorities across Europe murdered during the Nazi regime, alive with a simple “stumbling stone.” To learn more, visit stolpersteine.eu/en/home.

From Dr. Charlotte Knobloch, we heard about the 200-year history of the Bavarian Jewish community and its 70th re-founding anniversary. Knobloch is a pillar of Jewish life in Munich, at 83 years old still actively working for the community.

I particularly enjoyed a conversation with Rabbi Steven Langnas, who is very involved in interfaith dialogue. At some point during lunch, he asked us to pass this message on to our communities: “Many people think that Jewish life has come to an end in Germany and practically in many places in Europe. We are showing that the Holocaust was a tragic pause but it wasn’t the end … the Chabad House now stands across from Hitler’s Munich residence. He’s not there anymore and we still are; just that, is a reason to go on….”

After a special and vibrant Shabbat service at Ohel Jakob synagogue, we headed to Dachau. Can you imagine how it felt after walking to shul to gather with another 300 or so Jews – including some survivors – in the middle of the city, praying the same prayers and singing the same songs that we have sung for hundreds of years (at least) and then proceeding to the sombre and moving visit to a concentration camp?

photo - The memorial for the murdered athletes and coaches of the Israeli Olympic team at the 1972 Games in Munich — The memorial for the murdered athletes and coaches of the Israeli Olympic team at the 1972 Games in Munich. *(photo from Yael Levin)*

The entire trip, in fact, was so intense that, most nights, I could not sleep. There was so much to think about at the end of every day. We had sad moments, including our visit to the memorial for the victims of the 1972 terrorist attack on the Israeli Olympic team, and amazing, positive experiences that no one in the group will forget.

I rediscovered Germany on this trip, saw it as never before and, like many mission participants visiting Israel on CIJA trips, I changed many of my opinions about the country – one that marked our people in a very profound and complex way.

It is evident that there is still antisemitism in German society, though definitely not more than in other European countries. I also perceived ambiguity in some of our meetings with German government officials, especially with regard to Israel, but don’t get me wrong, I could see that Germany is one of Israel’s strongest and closest partners today.

It is also clear that Germany has completely changed for the better in relation to our community – not only acknowledging a heavy responsibility for the past but also honestly seeking to create a better future by supporting, protecting and fostering Jewish life and by educating the new generations against antisemitism and hatred.

This is important for us both as Jews and as advocates of justice and tikkun olam.

Yael Levin is manager, community relations, at the Centre for Israel and Jewish Affairs, Pacific Region. This article was originally published by CIJA’s The Exchange.

Teaching about Shoah

Eyal Daniel (photo from Eyal Daniel)

Three Vancouver-area teachers who traveled to Israel last summer for an intensive three-week symposium on teaching about the Holocaust now plan to share their knowledge with other educators throughout the region.

The three were chosen to study at Yad Vashem, the Holocaust Martyrs’ and Heroes’ Remembrance Authority, with many of the world’s foremost scholars on the Shoah. The focus was on how to educate students of diverse cultures and faiths about the Holocaust and to leverage that knowledge as a framework for teaching about human values, responsible citizenship and social justice.

Eyal Daniel, former head of school at Vancouver Talmud Torah elementary and high school, the latter of which became King David High School, now teaches at Buckingham elementary in Burnaby. As a Jewish person and a native of Israel, Daniel said his experience was somewhat different from most of the other participants from across Canada, but he tried to go into the process ready to absorb everything presented.

“The symposium was three weeks, from 8:30 to 5:30 every day,” he said. “It included lectures about all the different facets connected to the Holocaust by really top lecturers.”

The group also visited different parts of Israel, including Kibbutz Lohamei Haghetaot, the Ghetto Fighters’ Kibbutz, formed by survivors of the Warsaw Ghetto. In addition to teachers, participants included Christian clergy, researchers and some people from the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington, D.C. The Canadian teachers were sponsored by the Canadian Society for Yad Vashem.

Among the most impactful aspects, said Daniel, was meeting and hearing from people with perspectives on well-known aspects of the Shoah.

“One of them was Anne Frank’s childhood friend, a woman at the age of 94, who knew her personally because she met her before [Frank] died in Bergen-Belsen concentration camp,” he said. “The second one was a couple that was on Schindler’s list, people that worked in Schindler’s factory and knew him personally.” Hearing firsthand accounts leaves a deep impact, he said. “You’re part of this history.”

He was also impressed to see how many non-Jewish people are touched and moved by the Holocaust and how committed they are to teach people from different cultures, he said.

The provincial education ministry curriculum does not require educators at any grade level to teach the Holocaust, although it usually comes up when studying the Second World War. It falls to the individual teacher to determine what to emphasize. Daniel has incorporated the topic into social studies, language arts and art. His students, for example, wrote poems about the Holocaust and Daniel sent the seven best to a competition for young writers by the Poetry Institute of Canada. All seven were published in an anthology.

He also incorporates books like The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas, The Old Brown Suitcase (by Vancouver writer Lillian Boraks-Nemetz) or Anne Frank’s diary, and films like the documentaries Paper Clips and Freedom Writers.

“The Holocaust is a one-time event, but it is also connected to racism and prejudice and stereotypes and genocide,” he said. The multicultural students of Metro Vancouver can often personally relate to the historical or contemporary manifestations of these topics.

“The idea is to show that, first of all, you need to learn about this kind of an event because even though it’s an exceptional event, it can happen – or may not happen – because of you,” he said.

Delta high school teacher Stephanie Henderson participated in the program, as well. She too tries to weave the topic into the curriculum when appropriate. When studying the history of Venice, for example, she will note the history of the Venice ghetto, the original Jewish ghetto but not the last.

“The Holocaust is getting to be far away,” she said. “Slowly, people are forgetting about it. This is giving us the ability to keep talking about it.”

The third local teacher on the program was Surrey high school teacher Mark Figueira. “Having been there, it’s something that I think about every day now, whereas before I had been to Israel, it was a topic that I covered in my class, but now it’s become much more than that,” he said. “When I teach about the Holocaust now, it’s so much more rich. It’s stories about people that we met. Just having been there gave me such a really good context for it now.”

The three have created a presentation they will share with other teachers during professional development days, beginning in Delta next February. They will offer advice and approaches on educating about the Holocaust for teachers at every level of knowledge and experience.

In the last decade, the Canadian Society for Yad Vashem has sent more than 200 teachers to attend the summer seminar, where they acquire pedagogical tools for teaching about the Holocaust to Canada’s multicultural students.