The Power of a Teacher's Love

    Confession:  In fifth grade, I was terrified after a trip to the United Nations where there was an exhibit about Hiroshima and Nagasaki.  For a few years after that visit, I couldn't sleep at night.  First it was the sound of planes that scared me.  Then, the idea of roaches emerging from the ground when human life had all but come to a stop.  Soon, I moved on to thinking about Pompeii, another city frozen in time.  Dreams transform reality, and reality transforms dreams.  I spent hours staring at the ceiling of my room, wondering what disaster might happen in my safe little community.   Sometimes I still feel my heart thumping with that same terror.

    Eventually, though, I comforted myself by assuming that no nuclear bomb would fall on Long Island;  NYC would be protected because it is near the United Nations.  (Ah, youth!)  And there are no volcanoes nearby, so molten lava was not a fate that I needed to worry about.  However, there still were vestiges of anti-antisemitism in my home town, or, if not flat-out antisemitism, steady microaggressions.  Therefore, eventually the focus of my fear became "What if there were another Holocaust?  Who would hide me?"   As soon as I figured out the answer (Mr. DeFina), those nightmares went away.

Jerry DeFina and my younger sister.
I like to think that he is protecting her in some alternate dimension now,
or that she is making him laugh that hearty bellow I remember from my youth. 

    Later, I began to have other real fears.  My younger sister, Mel, spent a lot of time in the hospital. I knew that she was very sick with a platelet disorder, but I didn't know the full extent of her medical problems until years later.  What I did know is that on many occasions, she was in a life and death situation.  Once, my father even had to abandon her at the hospital to ensure that she would get immediate treatment. (An abandoned child must be seen immediately!)  Another time, my mother and I showed up at the pool to pick her up from swimming class just as a medical helicopter was taking off under an ominous sky.

   At school, I would go through the day knowing that Mel was in the hospital and sensing that the situation was touch-and-go.  Again, I'd think to myself:  What if Melinda died during the school day?  How would I find out?  Of course, this didn't come to pass.  But in my mind, I had a plan.  My parents would let Mr. DeFina be the one to hold me tight when I fell apart when hearing the news.

    Once, when we were grown up, my parents went on vacation.  It was a much deserved vacation to Europe and it was the longest I had ever gone without hearing from them.  At this point, after a relatively healthy spell,  Melinda ended up in the hospital.  Her teacher, Ava Favara, came to visit, and I spent a lot of time with both of them.  But at a certain point, decisions needed to be made.  I had no idea what to do.  So, of course, I called "Uncle Jerry" (as I had begun to call him) and he devised a plan with me to reach my parents.  I'm sure they weren't happy to have their credit card stopped with the message to call home.  But it worked!

    Growing up isn't easy.  Growing up in a world where there is a history of war isn't easy.  Growing up in a family with a chronically ill sibling is certainly not easy.  But Mr. DeFina and my other mentors saw me through.  I really believe that it takes a village to raise a child, and I take my role as mentor teacher very seriously.  Likewise, I am forever honored by the trust students and their parents place in me.

http://www.storyhousepro.com/the-teacher-who-defied-hitler/

    As I've been studying the Holocaust, I've been reading a lot about teacher mentors in that impossible time period.  The next few blog posts will be about teachers who made a difference. Leonore Goldschmidt is an inspiration to me, and someone I'm excited to learn more and more about.
 
    As the Nuremburg Laws went into effect in pre-war Germany, this teacher of eleven years lost her job.  Jewish people were considered enemies of the state and therefore were not allowed to teach in public institutions.  However, she was extremely clever.  She read the laws and found a critical loophole.  Jewish teachers could take on up to five "non-Aryan" students.  With this added information and a surprise inheritance, she opened a school for Jewish students near Berlin.
 

http://collections.ushmm.org/search/catalog/pa1175585

    Now Leonore was a really smart woman, someone with insight who could see several steps ahead.  She knew situations weren't going to get any better for the Jewish population; she knew she needed to help her students prepare for a different life.  So, she made sure to secure links to England and took risks to make a connection with Cambridge.  She brought in a teacher, Phillip Wooley, from Oxford, and eventually tried to transfer the school to him so that it could be preserved as British property.  (As a Jewish school, after Kristallnacht, it was in great danger.) She even sought help from Albert Einstein and Eleanor Roosevelt, but could not find refuge in the United States for her students. Eventually, she moved the school to Folkstone, England, and many of her students followed her there.  A large percentage of the school's population survived against all the odds.  This is because of her foresight and passion.  (Unfortunately, of course, not everyone did.  The accounts I read made me sad and angry, too.)

     A full account of her story is available at this website.   The Smithsonian Channel made a brief movie about her efforts, and it is available on Netflix streaming.   A German version of the movie was a success overseas last year, too.  Julien Bryan, an American filmmaker, even got some firsthand footage of the school children.  It is immensely powerful and worth the time.  Here is one segment that is available on YouTube.

 

   I am a teacher in a different time and with a different set of challenges than Leonore Goldschmidt faced, or even than those that Mr. DeFina faced.  I'm fortunate in so many ways, and I don't sleep with terror as in the past.  However, I hope my love for the field is as evident as their love was.

   I will end this post with two uotes from Leonore Goldschmidt.

"I wish to say how deeply indebted I am to the love, imagination and happiness of my pupils."

"I have greatly enjoyed the cooperation and friendship of my pupils. I have learned that, in the end, nothing remains as satisfying as the love of those who come after us."