A dear long (we never say old) friend, also a grandma, said her grandson, age six, overheard her discussing a Holocaust movie with his mother. He asked her what the Holocaust was. She vaguely mentioned that there once were bad men but they no longer exist. She then called me, a child of Holocaust survivors, and asked what age I thought she could explain this to the grandchild. My immediate reaction was that he was way too young.
This Grandma, being born right after her parents had survived the Holocaust with severe physical and psychological effects, was exposed from birth to their nightmares and day mares and overheard their stories and comforting of each other for as long as I can remember. This led to my own nightmares into my late forties.
My father, who truly believed I knew nothing, gave me the book, The Wall, by John Hersey , when I was thirteen, and started with telling me which mila (bunker) he was in as a Warsaw ghetto fighter, that he knew the people in the book, his fighting experiences, and showed me the scar on his forehead where a bullet had just grazed his skull. It was as if he did not think I had noticed it before in my childhood. He then described a scene he personally witnessed also described in the book. My father said children were being secreted out of the Warsaw ghetto hidden in hay wagons. Someone had revealed this to the Nazis, he believed, because he was in the center square when Nazis began machine gunning a hay wagon. He described in vivid detail, his voice quivering and body heaving, with tears in his eyes, how he heard the children’s cries and screams and saw the blood dripping down and the hay turning red. In the way I heard this story, thirteen was too young for me.
This Grandma tried to protect her children from hearing such stories too young from their Holocaust survivor grandparents, but think they also overheard and learned too early. My parents were more years away from the horrors they experienced, but not much less traumatized. I remember asking a psychologist friend who might provide counseling to my father to ease his pain when my father was in his late sixties or early seventies. The psychologist said to let him be, to let him suppress the memories, rather than bring them fully to the surface at that point in his life.
At the same age now, I understand better. It is easier for me to suppress the memories. I do wish I could erase them, but I am concerned about bringing them to the surface. It does not take much for me to tear up, feel my voice quivering and feel my body heaving upon exposure to anything about the Holocaust. I now know about the symptoms of panic attacks and post traumatic stress disorder which I am convinced my parents suffered. Why would I want to go there? Why would I want my children and grandchildren to go there? We are Holocaust second and third generation survivors. But what of those who are not?
I waited until my children were in their teens, at fifteen going on the March of the Living, to the concentration camps in Poland followed by a trip toIsrael for them to learn everything. As my mother called her handwritten book, “Out of the Darkness,” they saw the hell and went to the light. My mother, however, addressed her life before and after the Holocaust in her writings,
never the experiences of horror. She was only able to speak to me of them when she was well past the experiences. Wisely, my mother, GG (great grandmother) said, “sometimes it takes sixty years for the words to come out of your mouth.” Then she told me of horrors she experienced she could not verbalize to me earlier. The Nazis made bonfires on Friday nights in the work camps in which she was interned, and threw babies and toddlers into the fire, making the young women and mothers of child bearing age dance around the fire naked. If the women cried they were whipped. My mother said she saw mothers jump into the fire after their babies. I realized, then, it was my nightmare, and she had told me earlier. I had been about four years old and she was coming out of a screaming, heaving day mare, clearly reliving her own personal horrific experience. To this day, it is the worst horror I have ever heard. My nightmares ended that day.
Realizing that I must remove my own emotional “baggage” from answering my dear long
friend’s question, I intellectually decided to explore when Holocaust education is introduced in schools. It seems middle school and high school is when the Holocaust is taught.
Finally, I checked Holocaust books for children. This Grandma was surprised. There were books starting for age 5-8! Anne Frank’s Chestnut Tree (Step into Reading) Paperback, by Jane Kohuth was the first book I came across and the reviews gave it five stars and said the story was written very well for young children.
The review from From School Library Journal states:
“Gr 2-4-This beginning reader introduces Anne Frank as she admires the chestnut tree that stands outside the window of the Secret Annex. The next statement instantly catches readers’ attention: “she had not been outside for 597 days.” Observing it helped her keep track of the passing seasons and calm her emotions. The changes wrought by the Holocaust are described in terms a child can understand: Anne cannot go swimming, is not allowed to go to movies, and must change schools. However, due to the book’s controlled vocabulary, some concepts are oversimplified; for example, the term concentration camp is used but not defined, though “Anne’s parents knew that when Jews were sent away, they were never heard from again.” Readers are told that “Anne did not survive the war. But her diary did.” They also learn that the chestnut tree no longer stands, but that seedlings from it have been planted all over the world. Like Anne, its legacy continues. The somber colors in Sayles’s paintings contribute to the serious tone and historical feel of the story.”
There is another book designated age five and up: Willy and Max: A Holocaust Story, by Amy Littlesugar.
The review from From School Library Journal states:
“Grade 3-6-A story set in Belgium during World War II. Professor Solomon is intrigued by a beautiful painting, The Lady, displayed in the window of the antique shop owned by Willys papa. Entering the store to make their purchase, the professor and his son, Max, meet Willy, and the two boys soon become inseparable companions. Sealing their bond with a photograph showing them in a friendship embrace, the youngsters promise to be friends forever. But the political climate in Antwerp becomes darker as the conquering Nazis approach and the Jewish professor and his son must escape. Before leaving, the painting is rolled up and brought back to the Christian shop owner, where Willy hides it in the basement. The effort is in vain, however, and the prized artwork is lost to the soldiers.
Littlesugar and Low have created a moving story about stolen art during this period. Both Max and Willy eventually move to America, but are never reunited. A serendipitous discovery made by a museum curator results in The Lady being returned to Maxs family. Told by Willys grandson, this important aspect of the Holocaust is a facet that deserves discussion. Lows mixed-media paintings in deep, dark hues have a textured, rugged look, contrasting a neighborhood at peace with the frightening atmosphere of one under wartime occupation”
In this age group, there are books about a Jewish child being sent away to live with strangers in a strange land, a allegorical picture book about “terrible things” taking animals away in a forest, a book about a child opening a drawer in his grandfather’s house and learning of the Holocaust. What strikes this Grandma is what is said about each of the Holocaust books for this age group in different words but content the same, that they take “up the difficult challenge of discussing the Holocaust with young children, of teaching its heritage and memory, all in a gentle and unobtrusive manner.” This Grandma thinks “difficult challenge” means don’t do it. This Grandma does not think any discussion of the Holocaust is in a “gentle and unobtrusive manner” for this age group. Why expose young children to such horror.
Middle school is early enough. But, then again, that is each family’s choice and decision, who may not have the personal experiences with the horror.
With little joy,
Mema
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