Ten Days of Remembrance, a Lifetime of Learning
Yom HaShoah (International Holocaust Remembrance Day). Yom HaZikaron (Israel’s day of Remembrance for Fallen Veterans and Victims of Terror). Yom HaAtzmaut (Israel’s Independence Day).
Three critical days.
For many Jews and non-Jews alike, the ten-day period that these commemorative holidays fall into every spring serve as an incredibly important time of deep reflection and introspection. The arc of this time is unlike any other; commanding the recollection of seminal events in history, in a way that traces the spectrum of the horrors of humanity to moments of miraculous achievement.
Yom HaShoah firstly instructs us to bear witness to the past, so that it may never be repeated. Year after year, the call for ‘never again’ rings through our minds and through our souls; asking us to contextualize this tragedy in its own history, all while reontextualizing its learnings for our present day. For me personally, over the years, I’ve experienced this particular day in different ways. As a young child, I remember lighting Yahrzeit candles with my late grandmother (Baba Shulamis) in memory of not only countless members of our own family who were murdered, but for so many others. As a teenager, I went with my mother to events where Holocaust survivors, who could somehow muster up the strength, would bravely share their testimonies. These individuals found the courage to speak about the unspeakable, inflicting great self-pain as a result, all with the goal of educating those who came after. Yet one of the most sentimental experiences for me was when I was seventeen and marched in Poland, on Yom HaShoah itself, from Auschwitz I to Auschwitz II-Birkenau; joining with thousands of other young Jews from around the world with a message of we are still here. The feeling of privilege in being able to physically walk out of a camp that millions of Jews never got to leave, including most of my own family, was harrowing. I will remember that day for the rest of my life.
But perhaps in all of this, was a fundamental lesson that I took away and have reflected on during every Yom HaShoah since — the power of education. And, in my adult years, I was able to apply new meaning to it. In 2018, I took a trip to Rwanda with JDC Entwine, where we spent the week at the Agahozo-Shalom Youth Village (ASYV). ASYV was built in the years following the Rwandan genocide, to help orphaned and vulnerable children based off a model that was used in Israel following the Holocaust. It was through the emphasis placed on education in this model and the astute vision of founder Anne Heyman, that ASYV — which translates to ‘a place where tears are dried’ — was able to come to fruition. This exemplified for me just how critical the Holocaust, and its recollection, were and are to helping lessen the suffering of others.
Yom HaZikaron, the second day of significance in the sequence, holds tremendous meaning for Israelis and Jews around the world. The day denotes the somber reality that has accompanied the formation of the state of Israel, and the rebuilding of the Jewish nation — that close to 24,000 individuals have lost their lives on active duty or in terrorist attacks targeting Israelis.
As a child I recall lighting candles on this day as well, reflecting on the young lives lost in the line of fire for the dream of a better future for the Jewish people. In 2012, I actually had the opportunity to spend this day in Israel. To mark its commencement, an alarm sounds through the entire country, asking its citizens to pause for one minute in a demonstration of respect. Partaking in this moment, followed by a memorial ceremony and a visit the next day to Har Herzl (Israel’s national military cemetery in Jerusalem), was deeply impactful. Seeing the graves marking fallen soldiers around my age was striking. It became evident to me that the price paid for a Jewish homeland was significant. Yet, it also begged the deeper question of what sacrifice meant and continues to mean. It reaffirms Israel not as a byproduct of the Holocaust, but as a conscious choice for self-determination; a choice to continue on, despite the tribulations thrown our way.
Yom HaAtzmaut offers quite a significant change of tone. Just a day after Yom HaZikaron, Israel’s day of independence is ushered in. With an impassioned energy of renewal, this day reminds Israelis and Jews around the world alike that despite the persecution of Jews for thousands of years, the expulsion of Jews from their homes across the globe, the near wipeout of European Jewish life in the 20th century, and the sacrifices sustained along the way — that they still have a reason to celebrate. In fact, this is the very spirit of resilience; it is what, in my opinion, has allowed Jews to overcome so many obstacles over time. It is the deliberate effort to not forget the past, yet still choose to move forward.
Evidently, each day in this arc evokes its own strong emotional memory. Yom HaShoah has taught and continues to teach the power of education, Yom HaZikaron the power of sacrifice, and Yom Haatzmaut the power of resilience. Yet while each lesson holds significant strength in its individuality, there is great power that comes with holding them in a collective. That where our past can inform our future — that where there is dedication to learning and to overcoming — we can begin to carve out a better path ahead for all.
I think about Ralph I. Goldman almost every day as a part of my work in this fellowship. His devoted practice and vision was strongly tied to, and rooted in, both the values of education and in his love for Israel. Throughout his vast career, he bore witness to the array of realities that existed for Jews around the world, and with each day, he consistently worked to shape a better future for our people and the world. During this year, it is my dream that by continuing to learn from Ralph’s extraordinary legacy, the teachings of these holidays, and the learnings from the rest of the year to come; that I too can play a role in the continuity of these values, and the empowerment that they can hold for generations to come.
