Yad Vashem a monument and a name" is Israels official memorial to the victims of the Holocaust. It is dedicated to preserving the memory of the dead; honoring Jews who fought against their Nazi oppressors and Gentiles who selflessly aided Jews in need; and researching the phenomenon of the Holocaust in particular and genocide in general, with the aim of avoiding such events in the future.
During my early career as a Youth Worker in the 70’s, I had the opportunity to act as a leader and escort 40 teens for during three consecutive summers to Israel. Our mission was to provide the Jewish Community Center teens with a six-week experience in Israel to hopefully provide insight, intellect, involvement and a practical understanding of life in country which for the jewish population held great importance. We were able to work in the Kibbutzim, visit the Negev and Sinai deserts, spend a week in then Gadna (a youth army camp) and visit the relics and monuments to ALL of the religious movements which claim home in the state of Israel. For three summers in a row, I was lucky enough to see, smell, touch, and live a spiritual life, but most importantly share these moments of my life with teens aged 15 through 17, ages in which some impressions actually lame a lasting and touching mark upon their consciences.
I have dozens of sheer magical moments i can recall, but one in particular resonates for me regarding the actions of Trump and the men and women of the Republican Party who seem to discard the past, refuse to embrace any future and who seem to ONLY care about the here and now. One summer, as usual I took my 40 kids to visit Yad Vashem, a young man from the Memphis JCC, part of my group, we walked into the building, and at the time there was a collage of photos of just some of the millions of people who had once lived a life of freedom, family and the potential for a future. Holding a photo his parents had given him, tightly in his hand, this young man scanned the collage took a few steps as close as he could toward the rope which kept the public away from actually being able to touch the wall, speed left and then a little to the right, then held up the photo, still clutching it as if his life depended upon holding it with all his strength. With a voice in between tears of sadness and over joy, he at first in a hushed voice spoke, thats my Grandpa Maxie. Then looking down to the picture and up to the collage, shouted THAT IS MY GRANDPA MAXIE. needless to say we all huddled around this young teen looking at his photo and the photo in the collage, and all of us shouted GRANDPA MAXIE.
There has always been great joy in my professional career as jewish Communal Worker. I have provided knowledge to those with whom I worked and in many moments have received greater understanding of life, and my purpose in living it. I am appalled, angry, that the issue of immigration IS an ISSUE in this nation. I DO NOT understand the lack of compassion, empathy or common sense which flows from the White House to the chambers of Congress as if it was filled with Monsanto GMO’s killing every bit of decency and democracy upon which this nation once was built. When, oh when will the real Americans come back to life?
