Humpty Dumpty

    We all know the rhyme; poor Humpty Dumpty!  All the King's Horses and all the King's Men couldn't put Humpty together again.  Sure, I can read through the Annotated Mother Goose or simply look up the political history of this nursery rhyme.  Instead, though, I want to spend a little time today looking at what people do when the world seemingly falls apart.  How do some people jump back after the irreparable?

      I've experienced pains that have felt irreparable.  Yesterday would have been the anniversary of my mentor, and I miss him every day.  But Uncle Jerry wasn't shattered when he fell off the wall; he lived off the wall!  Like him, I follow my creative spark to make people think.  He fought bad health for as long as he could, but now he lives on in me and everyone who loved him.  His loss feels irreparable, but his life was eternal through his wise and wild impact.

      I've experienced disappointments that have felt irreparable.  My career is changing, and I will have to recreate the magic and wholeness of my class in a new kind of environment.  Whether and how it is repaired is partially up to me, and I will hopefully do a better job than all the king's horses and men did.  But my heart aches and I am still trying to find pathways to resilience.

    One of the key tenets of Holocaust education, as we discussed today, is to find the moments of light in the darkest places.  Use this light to direct yourself and future generations to a better world.   Today I attended one of the most inspiring workshops I've ever been to about the relevance of Holocaust education.  Before I go on, I'd like to share a few quotes which deeply struck me.  All of these are from Shani Lourie.

• "Education is about positiveness. It is about inspiring people to be better.  If we take students on a journey that makes them repulsed by humanity, we are not inspiring them.  When you see evil, it does not mean you'll become a better person."
• "This doesn't mean we ignore the darkest chapter.  But there were sparks of light, even back then.  Sure, anybody can find the darkness.  That is not a challenge. But the art of teaching is helping students to find the light without losing the greater context."
•  "If you can't love your students, you can't be educators. In order for this profession to be really professional, you must start with loving your students."
• "Teaching in the ghetto wasn't only about giving of yourself.  In the ghetto, teachers were constantly losing their students to death, to illness and starvation.  Each day, you'd notice the students who weren't there and yet, again, you would invest in the students who ARE there because you are committed to creating a better world in the darkest place on the face of the universe."
• "Educators are experts in weaving things together.  We weave a group of diverse students into one group. We weave their diverse experiences into a fabric of understanding with different patterns and layers."

      I told you she was deeply inspiring, and confirming of what I hold dear!

      So, if I am going to look for ways to foster resilience (in myself and others), if I want to help Humpty Dumpty, I want to look at the darkness and find the light. In fact, I have to.  This is why I am compelled to be someone who can talk about death and illness and sorrow and war.  If I can't look devastation in the eye and bring out some hope, then who will?

     So, I think about the days after the Holocaust.  I think about the survivors I have met, the ones I have read about, the ones I have yet to meet.  (We will meet three on this trip.)  I think about what Shani told us: it wasn't just a RETURN to life.  For most survivors, it was and is a constant process of RETURNING to life.  The past is there.  Each turn reminds us of losses and horrors.  But each turn also gives a choice to go on or not.  The survivors I have met are ones that have pushed through hell and kept going.  It is a constant process.  

     Nothing I know compares to the extreme depravity and dehumanization of genocide victims.  However,  each of us needs to know we have choices.  How do we take what each day gives us and turn it into the narrative of our lives?  Going back to my earlier post, how do we write our own stories while we are still alive so that others may someday find a light in telling our story?  I don't always choose well. But I like to think about this as a guide.

      Then, I think about the way leaders had to come together to shape the historical narrative after the Holocaust.  Today I learned about the verbal and emotional spars between two of my heroes:  Elie  Wiesel and Simon Wiesenthal.  In a workshop on "The Unprecedentedness of the Holocaust", Dr. David Silberklang spoke to us about how there was no word for what had happened to so many in the Nazi Regime.  The Hebrew word, "Shoah" already existed, meaning "Total Destruction, leaving nothing standing", but that isn't exactly what happened.  "Holocaust" refers to a huge inferno, where everything burns.  "Genocide" is the murder of a whole people, but this falls short, too. Neither of these are adequate.  

     Then, once the word Holocaust came into usage and there was a commission to create something commemorating the victims and heroes, it became crucial to define who was being included in the term "Holocaust."  Under Carter, the view was that it was mostly Jewish people and that others who were also a threat to the Nazi Regime were similarly killed, so the 6 million Jews, 11 million people in total came about. The numbers were approximations.    Under Reagan, the umbrella extended, not only to the civilians who were killed (35 million) but also to the perpetrator Nazi soldiers who were brainwashed to kill and torture.  In this view, when Reagan visited Nazi Cemeteries, this would include about 60 million people.

     Outrage ensued, but death is death.  A life lost is a world of possibility and love and connection shattered.  And we are all part of the aftermath.

     Elie Wiesel felt strongly that the term "Holocaust" should just refer to the Jewish people who were killed.  Simon Wiesenthal thought it was necessary to extend the number to all who were killed by the Nazis-- more like the 11 million number.  This was in part because he thought the world needed to see that it was many peoples who were murdered, not just Jews. (There still existed anti-semitism after the war.)  It was also because he offered a more humanistic, expansive approach.  (I am in agreement with Wiesenthal, by the way, though I understand both of their points.)

     The takeaway, though, is that after the unthinkable, people began to think how to tell the story.  Sometimes there isn't language for what happens.  Back in Humpty Dumpty's day, nursery rhymes were made.  I compose music and write poems. I have friends who make artwork.  One of my friends "runs out" her feelings.  (I'd go crazy! But I admire her.)  However, we need to find a way to keep our head out of the sand. 

     We will not always agree with one another. Wiesel and Wiesenthal hated each other, and Wiesenthal was particularly enraged because Wiesel got the Nobel Prize, which he thought should be shared.  But I always err on the side of communication.  Sometimes, this isn't what people want to hear.  But I believe in communicating with love, with passion, and with the desire to make the world better.  

    Can Humpty Dumpty be put back together again?  Probably not.  But scrambled eggs are still eggs.  We are all scrambled from life's experiences.  But by finding moments of hope and using language to do what we can to honor moments of loss and bravery (and ensure that the egg doesn't go Splat! again), we can move forward in hope.  That's how I can spend summer days focusing on the (improperly named) Holocaust.

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