Jews
I'm trying to post twice a week here as that's important to me. Originally I was going to try to write something scholarly for today. But I'm just not able to right now, for various reasons. Some of you may know that I posted a musical piece I recorded the other day along with some commentary, but had to take it down the next day because it had a vocal track (alongside the customary piano track) and that, I found out rather forcefully from the inside, was too personal to share. I will post it again, without the vocal track, once I am able to record a slightly better piano solo.
Over the holidays, I found a cache of poems I wrote in the early 90s. I had a difficult time choosing which to post today. I know my last post was an optimistic review of where I've come from and what I've been able to accomplish. This poem is an 180 degree turn from that. It's not purposeful. I am not really this pessimistic. But lately I have been trying to get in touch with where I've come from, and I'm trying to connect the broad pieces of my life. I cannot forget where I was back many years ago, but at the same time I cannot be swept up by it either. This poem seemed to be the most appropriate to share, though I'm not particularly clear on why.
Here's the poem:
They had a name for those who were tortured...
But millions more stayed alive They are wrong!
Really we are Jews
They were Jews
Millions of them died at the hands of others
They have a name for those who stayed alive
"They are survivors," they say
The poem is perhaps a bit controversial. I hope it doesn't offend anyone. I was not raised Jewish, but rather Roman Catholic, so maybe I am stepping over some boundary. I am not really sure exactly what I was trying to say. I can see the obvious meanings.
I am nearly certain I wrote this poem shortly after seeing "Schindler's List" in Winter of 1994. I remember seeing the film alone, and I remember crying for hours afterwards.
I wonder what you all think?
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I have posted and commented to this very issue. Not the issue of being Jewish, but being a survivor. I have a huge issue with labeling, though, to some extent I understand why there are so many labels. However, I don't want to be a survivor. I survived a horrible ritual and sexual abuse, yes, but I want to be a writer. Even more than a survivor. I think your poem speaks for the millions of Jews who put their religious beliefs before any other "worldly" experience. They are the strong ones. This is a wonderful tribute to all of them.
Ivory, I have trouble with the labels myself. Mainly because I want to be labelled the other things that I consider what "normal" people want in their lives... like writer, or musician, or teacher, or husband or father. But I also know that it's important to some portion of me to know we are also survivors (no greater or lesser than those other things). The word is overused. Taken literally survivor sounds very passive. But to me, when I use it and when others use it, it is taken to mean that I acknowledge I have been abused and injured and lived through it, but I am also committed to the process of healing.
I'm a librarian. Librarians take "things", categorise and organise them. Possibly because of this, and my understanding of search algorithms, I see labels in a different way. We all carry labels, with mine including being a sister, daughter, survivor and cynical. But my librarian brain allows for those labels, because individually they don't define us. What defines us is how these labels build on each other to create the person as a whole. The Jews that survived the Holocaust, were/are both survivors and Jewish. They carry both labels, but those labels don't have to define their entire being.
Whether it is my librarian brain, or my stage of healing, I don't mind being labelled a survivor. It's one of the better labels I carry. At times I need that label to hang onto, to know that I got through that experience and can keep on going. I often joked with a previous therapist that I survived my past, now I just need to survive myself.
"Schindler's List" is a movie I can't watch, I dissociate through it's entirety. I'll never know a concentration camp, or the reality of what the movie depicts, but it is too much for my system to take. Like all poetry, there are layers to what you have written Paul. I can see a truth for how I interpret it, but then that interpretation comes from my history and associated labels...
Kind regards,
M
Hi CG. Do librarians ever step out of their libraries? Just curious. :) I love how you described labels and what they mean for you and how they can build on each other. Thanks!
I found it interesting how you switched from "they" to "we". It brought the message home that you felt a kinship to the suffering of the others.
We have survived... but I am hoping for more than survival. I'm working very hard at learning how to live my life and not just survive it. For that reason, the term "survivors" does not seem like anything I want attached to me. When you say someone survived, you know that there is a dark side to them, something that they carry around with them fromthe past.
That is not to belittle survival. If you were trapped in a burning house, the only thing you could think of is surviving. Once you are safely outside the house, you can enjoy all the things the world has to offer. I guess to live is to be without constant fear, anger, and grief. Survivors have not always achieved that.
Shen. Yes, I am wanting to make it clear that this was my 1994 view of the world and NOT my 2010 view of the world. I do have a much broader interpretation of what survivor means, as I said in the prior comment. I think the way you describe "survivor" as just having "lived through" is more akin to victim. But, no, I think of survivor in the broadest possible sense and, while it does have some negative connotations, I am most happy with it being applied to me. As long as all the other labels I carry are added along with it. If there were a word that meant the same but was different, I would adopt that, but I don't believe there is another. I'm trying to think of an example. Well, here's one: Let's say you call someone a "baseball player". Well, there are some who have played the sport rather poorly and some who end up in the Baseball Hall of Fame. They are still all technically baseball players. That's probably a horrible example. But, the bottom line is how you perceive it personally and how others perceive you. OK. I'll get off my soapbox now!
I can relate a lot to what has happened over the centuries to those of the Jewish faith and heritage. I can relate a lot to the Holocaust. We did survive and we went through a kind of personal holocaust. I know that it is nothing like a genocide. It is still something that feels eerily similar.
Good and healing thoughts to you.
Kate
Thanks Kate. I think the connection for me began in 10th grade when we saw WWII footage about the holocaust. I believe it caused a "chink in my armor" so to speak.
It is very difficult for me to write about it. I'm not able to see a movie about the WW2, also not Schindler's List. I can not bear it and dissociate the whole time. I think the fate of the Jewish people is comparable with nothing else that happens in the world.
I agree with Castorgirl that we all carry different labels. I have different feelings to labels. For example: the label "survivor" doesn't hurt me. But I can not endure it, if someone call me a "victim".
I am not sure I would be able to watch Schindler's List now. I'm not sure I can compartmentalize all of that as well as I used to. Though if I had to bet, I would say I probably could do it. Well, I am sure I could do it. But there would be a cost. I do not want to be called a victim either. At one point, that was what I was. But, honestly, I have to say that for many parts, victims are exactly what they are oftentimes. That's just a reality.
I am Jewish. While I don't like to see the entirety of Jewish identity wrapped up in the Shoah (Holocaust), I can also understand, and that you wrote this after seeing Schindler's List is actually hopeful to me. It says the film did what it was supposed to do. It helped a new generation see, and care. With Shoah survivors coming to the natural end of their lives, and G-d willing, some peace, it is for us who remain to make sure the world never forgets. Unfortunately, it seems the lessons are still unlearned: Bosnia, Rwanda, Sierra Leone.
Your poem brought to mind the Arch of Titus in Rome. It depicts the Roman victory in the year 85 CE (Common Era) and shows Romans carrying off ritual items from the Jewish Temple in Jerusalem. Now, over 1900 years later, the ancient Roman civilization is gone with no survivors. Yet we Jews are still here. Our saying when seeing that arch is Am Yisrael Chai--the People of Israel live!
Inner Family. Thank you for reading so many posts. I will write you offline. It's a bit hard for me to really know what I was thinking in some of them. Luckily the comments help me piece things together. But, I'm not sure I have a unified or consistent view of anything that's written here. I have a unified view that 2+2=4, I know that. I think, for me, that this poem spoke of a special kinship I felt with a period in history that each time I learned more about it, had huge personal meaning. I see in one of my earlier comments on this post, that I talked about seeing footage of WWII in high school. I distinctly remember this and remember it being, at the time, a rare glimpse into my inner experience. I love the Arch of Titus example. Yes, the people of Israel do live, as do we. Thank you!