Category Archives: Nance’s Writing

But How Do you Know?

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How I now know.

This writing was previously published by The Samis Foundation on 12/15/2025 their blog – https://samisfoundation.org/but-how-do-you-know-by-nance-morris-adler/

Often when asked what I do for a living, I will respond “I make Upstanders.” This is usually met with “But how do you know?”  In 2007, I created a curriculum on the rise of Nazism in Germany in the 1930s for 5th grade. The goal of my curriculum was that my students would know “what the world looks like when it is going terribly wrong” and that they should do something if they see it happening. In 2008 at a Facing History and Ourselves (FHAO) seminar I learned a word for what I was asking my students to become, Upstanders. Usage of this word can be traced to Samantha Power in 2003 in connection to her book on genocide as she discussed those who spoke out against the Holocaust and Armenian genocide. You can read more about the word here on FHAO’s website. 

I brought this word back to The Jewish Day School of Seattle (JDS) where I have taught for the past 21 years. At JDS, this word spread from my classroom to the wider community and is now integral to JDS’s Mission, which reads: “JDS empowers children to grow into capable, wise, and compassionate upstanders by integrating an innovative academic program with Jewish education and traditions.”
But how do I know? I have anecdotal evidence: the student who wanted to make “the film to end genocide” and created a documentary about the Rwandan genocide, the student who went to India to help improve educational opportunities for the poor, students who spoke up to school boards after 10/7 about the antisemitism they were facing. But is this enough to really know? 

As part of  my course work in the Mandel Teacher Educator Institute (MTEI)/Hebrew Union College Graduate Certificate in Educational Leadership, I was asked to research my own practice as a teacher. I immediately knew my research topic! Does learning in my classroom empower young people to be Upstanders? If so, what experiences in my Jewish Studies classes and, at JDS in general, contribute to this? How does a JDS education show up in our alumni and their life choices? 

To prepare, I read three articles to see how others have researched this question. While the educational settings were different from mine (a college classroom, a summer seminar and a public school), all used familiar instructional methods. They used stories and role models to inspire their students and generate discussion about what it means to be an Upstander. While these articles did not clarify a methodology, it was reassuring to see their successes. 

My inquiry was guided by the Structured Ethical Reflection approach, as outlined by Stevens, Brydon-Miller and Raider-Roth (2016) in The Educational Forum. I selected values to guide each step of my research. Knowing that I was researching myself and my impact on students, I felt it was important to keep humility, objectivity and transparency at the center of my methodology and analysis. I wanted to be inclusive of as many voices as possible and curious about the true impact of time in my classroom and at JDS.  All of these values were reflected in each step of my planning and research to assure that my findings would be valid and honestly reflect the input of my participants. I checked in with my participants after analyzing the data to verify that their input was properly interpreted in my findings. They confirmed that it was and found it powerful to see their experiences reflected by others as well. 

My primary research tool was a Google survey that was sent to graduates from the classes of 2011 through 2025. My main research query was: 

What experiences during your middle school years at JDS do you continue to tap into for inspiration for being an Upstander in your life? What choices have you made in life because of these experiences and the values learned from them?

However, I did not ask these questions directly. It was important for me to know exactly how respondents defined “Upstander” and how they present as one in their lives, so they were first asked to define this word. Next, they indicated the degree to which they agreed that “JDS had a significant impact on my understanding of the importance of being an Upstander.” Their rating of fourteen experiences from across three years of Jewish history, Tanakh and rabbinics for how much of an impact each one had on their development as an Upstander allowed me to see what experiences were formative. In addition, respondents had an opportunity to share their thoughts on the listed lessons, other Jewish learning that I had not listed, and general studies experiences that had been formative.  My goal was 25 responses, and I was thrilled to receive 32. I also did six interviews.

So, what did I learn? I learned that JDS does make Upstanders. All responses to the core prompt “JDS had a significant impact on my understanding of the importance of being an Upstander” were in the positive range, with 71.9% agreeing strongly with this statement. I learned that lessons and activities that allowed students to take a deep dive into the story of one inspiring person had the strongest and most lasting impact on their awareness and confidence in being an Upstander. Respondents reflected about the impact of learning in depth about a Jewish partisan, writing their own historical narrative as a young Jewish person in Germany in the 1930s, learning about morally courageous people, and the Righteous Among the Nations. Connecting in a meaningful way to the stories of inspiring and brave people, who stood up for what was right at risk of their lives, helped my students see the difference one person could make, that even young people can make a difference, and that we never know what we are capable of until we have to.  

Word Art of the 32 definitions of Upstander

From the 32 definitions of the word Upstander, as well as from the interviews and free responses, I was able to compile a list of “habits of mind and practice of Upstanders.”  This list was then organized into the graphic below which shows the skills and values JDS students learn in their Jewish Studies classes that in turn become character traits. Graduates found that having this foundation allows them to have the daily practices necessary to take action when they see a wrong in the world. Practices are different from actions in that they are regular habits, or ways of thinking, which then contribute to the knowledge that action is needed, and the ability to take it. Skills such as  critical thinking, knowing the lessons of history, and the ability to hold multiple perspectives and speak across differences are taught implicitly and explicitly in the lessons in my classroom across three years. Values, both Jewish and universal, like seeing the humanity of all, community, empathy, compassion, gratitude and morality are modeled and taught across their years at JDS. These work together to instill traits that result in confident young people who can speak up and who ask questions and are reflective. These Upstanders allow the joy and gratitude they feel in their own lives to feed their knowledge that it is their job to help others who are not so privileged. In their daily lives they are mindful and use their awareness of history to make connections to what is going on around them and to see where change is needed. They take action, they speak up and give voice to the voiceless, they advocate and educate for change. 

As importantly, I learned that lessons I had not included, like the God Talk series in my 8th grade Theology course, are also hugely formative. This speaker program, which I viewed as a comparative religion experience, is seen by my former students as key in their development as Upstanders and many expressed their surprise that it was not included in the listed units. Yael’s comment states it most strongly: 

Besides teaching about other religions, G-d Talks allow us to empathize and understand other religions, creating a general environment of tolerance and open conversation.  When one learns from a young age that engaging in difficult conversations (like those surrounding religion) are not only allowed but encouraged, one feels more comfortable pursuing those throughout one’s life. When you fundamentally understand that even people who disagree with you are human, you are drawn to stand against hate/oppression towards any person or group of people.

As a result of my research, I have already added new learning goals for this program that makes clear these skills are not a side product, but a desired outcome. 

Seeing the impact of my teaching over the past 18 years has been humbling and deeply rewarding. I presented my work to my fellow MTEI Cohort 11 members in October, and was moved to tears by their responses to my work. One comment that really stuck with me was about how “vulnerable” I was able to be in asking these questions. This connects to the values of curiosity and honesty I included in my Structured Ethical Reflection and really being open to whatever the answers might have been to my questions. Doing this practitioner action research project provided me with data about the impact of my teaching, and enabled me to visualize the outcomes of what I teach in a way that enables me to strengthen my own teaching, as well as create workshops to educate other teachers. I shared my findings with the faculty at my own school during our fall orientation week and am working to help other teachers bring more of these valuable lessons into their classrooms. My school will be using my findings to help create a “Portrait of a JDS Graduate” that incorporates this real world data that shows what our graduates already look like. Having transferable and replicable outcomes that can be shared with other teachers allows me to help others create more Upstanders…something our world sorely needs.

Making Abraham an Upstander

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Parashat Vayera D’var 5786 – 8 November 2025

(A video of my reading this d’var is linked at the bottom)

Years ago I heard Rabbi Donniel Hartman speak about the Abraham of Genesis 18:16 – 33 versus the Abraham of Genesis 22. Rabbi Donniel taught that our choice of which Abraham speaks to us said a lot about our relationship with God and Judaism. Do we want a patriarch who argues with God to save strangers – to make sure that the Judge of all judges fairly and does not punish the righteous with the wicked – or do we want an Abraham who quietly agrees to take his “only son, the one you love” and offer him up on some mountain cliff to be determined later? Do we want a Judaism that encourages us to foster a habit of standing up  – even to God – versus one that models bystanding even in our own lives? 

When asked what I do for a living, I will often respond “I make Upstanders.” Not what most people expect for an answer and usually results in a few questions – “what is an Upstander?” and “how do you know?” being most common. I define an Upstander as one who takes action when they see an injustice – who does not stand by and watch others bully, oppress or persecute people, but rather steps in to do something about it – or better, work to prevent it in the first place. I have stories of amazing things my former students have done since leaving my classroom and this anecdotal evidence is impressive, but does not convince those looking for a more evidence based response. I have been privileged to be part of the Mandel Teacher Educator Institute for the past two years and as part of this fellowship was able to do a graduate certificate at HUC in Practitioner Research. The work of this certificate has been researching my own practice as a teacher and my research question came to me quickly – Do I make upstanders or not? And if so, what are the experiences in my classroom that most impact this development?

A Google survey completed by 32 JDS alumni from 2011 – 2025 and six interviews later,  the answer is a resounding yes – that the coursework in my classroom, as well as other classes at JDS – does instill in young people a clear understanding of the importance of being an upstander – and now I have 32 definitions of this word and not just my own –  as part of my research I had the respondents write their own definitions for the word “Upstander.” This information was very informative and provided a window into how each of these young people thought about being an upstander. Respondents also had an opportunity to respond with details about their learning in Jewish Studies as well as their General Studies classes and these free responses were also very helpful in getting a full picture of what the formative lessons were during their years at JDS and just what went into making an upstander. 

As I coded these responses I began to compile a list of the “habits and practices of an Upstander” on a giant post-it note on my wall. I then sorted these into different categories – skills, values, character traits, practices and actions. This work helped me create a graphic that shows the development of a JDS upstander. 

I would like to use the traits and the actions of an Upstander – as determined by my research – to discuss these two stories of Abraham and think about what might have helped Abraham in Genesis 22 be more like the Abraham of Genesis 18. 

The traits that were named by my former students as essential to being an Upstander are: brave, a leader, questioning, confident, positive, action oriented, grateful, joyous, reflective, and possessing a growth mindset. 

Abraham facing God as he is given insight into God’s plans for the home of his nephew Lot and the neighboring town is seen as a leader by God. God shares his plans with Abe because God plans to make Abraham the father of a great nation by whom all the nations of the world will bless themselves. Abraham takes the time allowed by the other two visitors to leave to consider what God has said. He then acts bravely and asks a question of God – “Will you sweep away the innocent along with the guilty?” He is confident that God could not mean to punish the innocent and puts forth a positive vision of saving the city for the sake of the innocent. He challenges God “Shall not the judge of all the earth deal justly?” 

Civil discourse is an action that upstanders use and Abraham is trying to have a civil discussion with God, Abraham is giving a voice to the voiceless – he is speaking for the innocents of Sodom and Gomorrah who stand to be wiped off the earth for the sins of their neighbors and he is advocating for change in God’s plan. Abraham is considering all the residents with dignity and he is standing up for what is right. All of these are actions named as those of Upstanders by JDS graduates.  Abraham continues to question God – being willing to accept that there  might not be 50, 40, 30, even 20 innocents in these towns – and lowers the bar with each increasingly meek request. His bravery in continuing to lower the number with each request and to continue to press God to do the right thing is impressive. Who among us can imagine making such requests of a human leader let alone God!? Abraham reflects on each request, on God’s agreement and is grateful for this agreement – but also knows that the number might need to be lower. His reminding of God that God is the judge of all and should be just reminds God of God’s role and to educate God about what God’s actions look like to the leader he has chosen. He is mindful of the terrible fate awaiting those in Sodom and Gomorrah and acts in a way informed by this perspective.

Abraham in this story also demonstrates many of the skills of an Upstander as found in my coding of my data. He is advocating and using his public speaking skills to confront God. He is thinking critically about what might be acceptable to God – he stops at 10 perhaps sensing God was not willing to go lower. He is making connections for God – reminding God of how God’s actions have lasting consequences and lessons for humans. Values of an Upstander include compassion, empathy, justice, morality, community, respect and gratitude – Abraham demonstrates all of these in his interactions with God in chapter 18. His compassion for those in Sodom and Gomorrah – empathy perhaps for his nephew and his family, his demanding God be just and act morally are clear as are his sense of community with these people. He speaks to God, even as he challenges him, with respect and expresses gratitude when God agrees to each request. 


Abraham in this story is a patriarch worth emulating. He is being a role model – a practice of Upstanders – and showing how to stand up to unjust power and to demand that even God acts with morality. He does not go along with God’s plan, he does not just request God spares Lot and his family, he advocates for all the innocents of Sodom and Gomorrah and pushes God to find a reason to not destroy these communities. So what happens between here and the story of Akedat Yitzhak – the binding of Isaac just four short chapters later? 

In Chapter 22 God speaks to Abraham and Abraham responds with that word of destiny “Hineini” “Here I am.” This word indicates an openness to what follows and a willingness to be commanded or used for God’s purpose. God then proceeds to command Abraham to take his son “your favored one, Isaac” and to go to Moriah and offer him up as an “oleh” burnt offering on one of the heights there that God will point out later. Now, prior to calling out to Abraham we are told that GOd is putting Abraham to the test. Abe does not know this and I feel that we are left to determine if he passes it or not. I would say that he does not – he certainly fails at being an upstander. Being commanded to offer up your son – a son of your old age that was born after a promise from God that you would finally have a son with your elderly wife, the only son you have now because you already sent the other one away because your wife asked you to – is not a command that anyone should follow unquestioningly – but Abraham does. That questioning and confident leader who was brave and stood up to God is gone. There is no discourse – civil or otherwise – as Abraham silently gets up and starts preparing for the journey. Abraham does not show any compassion or empathy for his wife, whose only son is about to be killed, there is no evidence he even tells her where he is going and midrash says her death in the next parsha is due to her finding out from HaSatan where father and son have gone. There is no reflection on the justice or morality of this request. A wondering when we started doing child sacrifices might have been voiced. 


Abraham is action oriented as he gets up early, packs a donkey, and heads off with his son and some servants. Again there is no discussion, only a few words are recorded on day three and those are vague and either hopeful or lies. “God will provide for the sheep” is the response to Isaac wondering where the offering is. In the end, God does indeed provide the ram for the sacrifice and it is God, or the angel, who gives voice to stop Abraham’s blind obedience to God’s command. 


Abraham’s lack of curiosity or demand for justice continues when God declares that “For now I know that you fear God, since you have not withheld your son, your favored son, from Me.” I would have been furious. God needed this proof? Abraham has gone through so much at the command of God and has proven his faithfulness over and over. I would have demanded to know why God needed even more proof – and proof gained in such a cruel and unjust manner. I would have asked God about the damage done to my son, the sorrow caused for my wife, my own trauma and guilt at being willing to do this just so God – the all knowing God – could be sure of my faithfulness.  We get none of this from Abraham. In one of my favorite Rosh HaShanah books – The White Ram – which I read each year to my middle schoolers – Abraham does question why God needed Abraham to prove his love and faith since God knows all. God responds “Oh, I knew, but I wanted to be sure everyone else knows so that would follow your example.” Follow his example?? This is hardly an Abraham whose example we should follow. Back in the text in the Torah, God makes Abraham some more nice promises and then Abe returns to his servants and heads to Beer-sheba. Next we know Sarah is dead and Isaac never speaks to his father again. Abraham’s days as a role model are over. 

My research, and that of other researchers who have set out to figure out what it takes to “create Upstanders” shows that an inspiring role model has an incredible impact on helping young people know that they should take action. In my findings I name this as “The Power of One Significant Story.” In my classroom these role models are Jewish Partisans, RIghteous among the Nations, individuals who show moral courage and create change in the world or save lives, Rabbi Avraham Joshua Heschel who marched in Selma, Jan Karski, Hebrew prophets who spoke out against corruption at the highest levels and others throughout our history who stood up and led rather than allowing history to happen to them. Abraham in Genesis 18 would be a Significant Story. Abraham in chapter 22 would not. Jewish values of v’ahavta re’echa k’mocha – treat your fellow as yourself – the core text of Judaism which teaches love and empathy – as well as “lo taamod al dam re’echa” “do not stand on the blood of your fellow” which means that we should prevent blood from being spilled and act to protect those who are likely to be harmed – are taught in sixth grade in my classroom to provide a values based framework for why it is important to be an upstander. Chapter 18 Abraham demonstrates these values – he is actively working to stop the bloodshed of innocents in Sodom and Gomorrah – Akedat Yitzhak has Abraham ready to spill the blood of his own son. 

Remaining engaged and capable – let alone willing – to be an upstander can be exhausting. I know this is very true in our current reality. Compassion fatigue is very real and there is so much going on that we would like to fix, but which we are powerless to really impact. So how does one remain mindful and engaged? The three traits of an Upstander as named by my former students that were most surprising were joyous, grateful and positive – add to this the practice of mindfulness which several of those interviewed gave much credit to for their commitment to doing good in the world. Gratitude for what we have creates a capacity for wanting others to have the same things and reminds us that our work for their rights and well being isn’t leaving us without. Being joyous also gives energy and creates the positivity needed to face situations that feel overwhelming or frightening in order to help others. Mindfulness as a daily practice allows these young people to be aware of what is going on in their worlds and to stay in a mindset that is open to what others are experiencing. It allows them to not be overwhelmed by all that is going on and therefore have more capacity to help. One of my former students, let’s call him Solomon, said that daily mindfulness sessions help him to focus on being his truest self “Solomon Solomon”  and his truest self is an Upstander. “Solomon Solomon loves all people and cares and is trying to be empathetic and the best, most righteous Jewish version of myself would be to stand up for the inequities that I see in the world. They also help him monitor his energy and that it is being spent in productive ways that allow him to make an impact. “And not just that upstanding is exhausting. So when are the right times to upstand and what are the times to pick your battles and say today’s not that day?”


One might surmise that being Abraham in his old age, having sent away Hagar and Ishmael, pressured to create a people who will worship God and be a great nation when you have only one son to start with, might have been a lot to deal with. Perhaps Abraham no longer had the joy, positivity and gratitude necessary to have the capacity to stand up to God again. Perhaps his failure to save Sodom and Gomorrah weighed on him and made him less likely to make demands of God? Following the commands of God, who had given him all that he had, might have been how he thought he was to show gratitude – rather than by acting according to the values that God sought to instill in him. To know God should be fair and just in chapter 18 but not demand it in 22 when your own son’s life is at stake, indicates a serious shift in energy and mindset. How might Abraham have been better able to be an upstander for Isaac?  How do any of us find the energy to push back against all that is wrong in the world? 

Community, gratitude, mindfulness, seeing failure as a stepping stone to success, and having the perspective of history can help us to know what is important and to continue to find the energy to defend it. Finding role models who inspire us, being a role model for others can also give us energy and ideas. Remembering the core values of our traditions as well as the universal values of empathy and compassion keeps us centered. Remembering that all humans are made b’tzelem elohim – in the image of God and are worthy of the same dignity and respect will guide us in our choices and actions. Let us not be like Abraham and sacrifice what is most important to us because we have lost our abilities to be upstanders – let us lean into community, joy and gratitude and remain strong. 

Working Towards Full Repentance – D’var Parshat Vayiggash 8738 – given 31 December 2022

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Working Towards Full Repentance – D’var Parshat Vayiggash 8738 – given 31 December 2022
Recording of me delivering this text

When learning about the steps of Teshuvah – the repair and return to a good place that is meant to happen after we “break” a relationship, a trust, or someone else’s property – we don’t always learn about the final step – the proof that the intention behind the apology and repair was sincere and lasting – that “don’t do it again if the opportunity arises” step. Maimonides wrote “What is perfect Teshuvah? This occurs when an opportunity presents itself for repeating the offense once committed, and the offender is able to commit the offense, but refrains from doing so because of the Teshuvah – not out of fear or failure of vigor.” We see this in action in this week’s parsha. Joseph, incognito as an Egyptian official, frames Benjamin and tells his brothers that they must leave Benjamin behind. Having been that spoiled and favorited youngest child and having seen how his brothers treated him many years prior, he is interested to see what their response will be. He is moved to tears, and to revealing himself, when Judah throws himself on the ground and begs, in the name of his elderly father who has already lost one son, to keep him instead of Benjamin. Joseph dismisses his servants and reveals himself to his brothers and tells them that it was God’s doing that sent him to Egypt and that they should not blame themselves.

Some may feel Joseph was being manipulative and mean to set up this test, but his brothers wanted to kill him and “settled” for selling him into slavery. They faked his death by wild animal and broke their father’s heart. Surely Joseph is allowed to test to see if they have learned to overcome their jealousy and love even their father’s favorites. Rabbi Sacks in a d’var on this parsha says that Joseph is acting “for the sake of his brothers” in his actions so that they can perform – for the first time in recorded history – that final step of Teshuvah.

How often do any of us get a chance to make this final proof of our sincerity and change of heart when we have wronged someone? Not just for a small hurt, but a big one? One hopes that we won’t actually be back in a situation where we could again cause pain and loss to a loved one or friend. But if we are, how will we respond? Have we changed? 

This past summer I traveled to Germany at the invitation of my friend Alan who teaches at a Gymnasium in the small town, village really, of Eppingen. He teaches history, English, Spanish, and anti-racism. He and some colleagues, all non-Jews, work with teachers in Israel and have a longstanding exchange between their schools. This fall was the first time the students from Israel had visited since October 2019 and Alan’s students will travel to Israel this spring for the first time in three years. Alan invited me to Eppingen for a couple of weeks and offered me up to speak at his school and several others in nearby towns. I ended up teaching in four schools in three towns and to grades 5 – 11. I was invited by English teachers, history teachers and religious studies – primarily Catholic education- teachers. Religious or Ethical Education is part of the state curriculum and what is offered is based on the majority religions of the area with an Ethics course for those who do not want one of the denominational offerings. They also learn about other religions – including Judaism – and I was the guest teacher for part of this learning. 

Informational plaque on the Alte Synagogue in Eppingen

One of my first activities was accompanying the 9th graders on a field trip to Natzweiler-Struthof Konzentrationslager. Visiting a concentration camp is a fixed part of the history curriculum at Alan’s school and is recommended by the state authorities. The students were visibly disturbed by the camp, one boy almost passed out and had to be taken to the bus to rest. The girls were warning each other about what was in the next building as the groups passed along the roads in the camp. They were absolutely serious and somber the entire time. I toured this camp, a prison and labor camp primarily for members of the French Resistance, with Alan’s group of students who did not know who I was or why I was with them. A few asked as we walked through the camp, but most were only introduced to me during the “debrief” circle after the tour. Their reactions were varied as they figured out that I was actually Jewish – apparently saying I am a “Jewish teacher” did not have to mean that I was Jewish – just that I taught Jewish topics. A fact that made more sense to me after attending a course at the Center for Jewish Studies in Heidelberg where I was the only Jew in the classroom. Once they knew I was Jewish and a Holocaust Educator, they asked some questions about my thoughts on the camp. One question was “why would Nazis work the prisoners to death if they needed them to do the work?” This can only be answered by addressing the true evil of those in charge and this explanation was met with sad nods of agreement.

Anyone who has seen me teach knows that I love questions – asking and answering them. So, in all of the classrooms I visited in Germany, asking me questions was either the entire lesson – for example in English classes where they were practicing their language skills and learning about the US from me – or encouraged after I had presented a lesson on Judaism or on Jewish resistance during the Holocaust. The questions were many and varied – I wrote a whole blog post just on questions I answered – but a few stuck out. One relates to my topic today. I will preface sharing it with the context that most of the questions made me painfully aware of how the USA is viewed overseas. This was not long after Roe V Wade was overturned and one 11th grade English class requested that we discuss separation of Church and State and role [rule? Could be either really or both] of law versus religion in the US. They had done research and presented what they had learned about religion in the US versus Germany and its influence on everyday life. In every single class I was asked about guns. So, my response to this particular question was not so far off base. I was asked by a very earnest young woman “How does it feel to be in a country with an embarrassing past?” Bold question I thought. I began with my honest opinion that we needed to be doing a far better job of teaching about and righting the wrongs of our past connected to the genocide of the Indigenous people of our country, related to African Slavery and ongoing racism…and the young woman stopped me. “I meant Germany” she said. I laughed at my error. And then I said this –

“I am Jewish. When I first was thinking about coming to Germany a few years ago I wondered how I would feel and many questioned why I was coming here. My husband’s family is from here and they never wanted to come back and visit. But I came for the first time in 2017. I came to Berlin. And everywhere I went in Berlin was a reminder of, a memorial to, a monument to the absence of… the Jews of Berlin and of Europe. “The Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe” stands in Berlin and its museum or information center, as it is called there, is the most frank and honest presentation of what the Nazis did that I have seen and I have been to many Holocaust Museums. I know teachers in Germany who are working hard to teach the history of this time, to show what was lost and preserve what remains.” I went on to mention that I know the strictness of laws in Germany for anything connected to the Nazis. I spoke of restitution both general and specifically to my husband’s family members. I then said – “Your country faces its embarrassing past and is actively working to make sure it is not repeated here or elsewhere. My country has much to learn in that respect. I am happy to be here in Germany.”

I in no way want to imply that anyone can make up for the evil that was done by Nazi Germany and its collaborators. They cannot. Or that Germany is perfect in its work to keep antisemitism, bigotry and racism at bay. No country is or can be. But there are teachers I met at each school, including my friend Alan, whose jobs include specifically addressing and confronting these hatreds when they show up. These teachers were eager to have me come and speak to their students. To teach their students about Jewish resistance and to introduce a new idea  – being an Upstander – into their understanding of this time. The students I spoke with were visibly moved when they learned I was Jewish and had come there to speak to them. The older students who I taught about Jewish resistance were gobsmacked by the actions of Jews to save themselves and others. Learning about rescuers who willingly risked their lives to save Jewish lives brought some to tears. Discussing a German woman saving the son of her Jewish neighbors, they said “she made the right choice.” They were shocked to see the way this woman was treated when the Nazis thought she was Jewish versus when they learned that she is Aryan. They go from insults to flirting. And the students commented that the Nazis could not tell which she was without her Ausweis – her ID. 

In every little town and village that I visited in this corner of Baden-Württemberg there was either a still standing Alte Synagoge or a sign or memorial on the site where the synagogue had stood until Nov 9th, 1938 – Reichspogromnacht – or Kristallnacht. In a few places, Alan and I wandered upon these plaques while “lost” and I would comment that we clearly were not lost but exactly where we were meant to be. Where there is a surviving synagogue, it is maintained and cared for by those in the community – meaning non-Jews. While clearly there was a Jewish presence in all of these small rural towns and villages in the past, there is none now. This is not all because of the Holocaust, many had moved to more urban areas prior to the 1930s. Alan is part of a “Friends of Jewish Heritage” group that cares for some of these sites and does educational programming around them. While I was there I spoke to this group during a Stammtisch – their monthly gathering on a Friday evening – we had dinner at a pub that used to be owned by a Jewish family and still has the cut in the door frame for a mezuzah. – and also was a docent at the Medieval mikveh in Eppingen at their invite during a day celebrating Jewish life in Germany.

Memorial in Sinsheim where the synagogue formally stood
Teaching in Heidelberg

In Steinsfurt, the Alte Synagoge is cared for and shown by Jutta, the Catholic Educator at the Gymnasium in Sinsheim and she took me to see it after I spoke at her school. It was preserved, in quite good shape, because the Jews sold it to an Aryan farmer in October of 1938 before the last families left the village. This farmer stopped its destruction on 9 Nov 1938 “This is now an Aryan building. Leave it alone.” While using it to store potatoes, he also preserved the murals on the walls and some furnishings. Jutta views her work both to maintain the building and to collect the Jewish history of the village as an important mitzvah. She is also working to have Stolpersteine placed in Sinsheim and Steinsfurt. Jutta works with Muslim refugees who have moved into the area, including a refugee who has lived with her family for seven years. She clearly personifies the spirit of true Teshuvah that I am wanting to touch on. Her work, and her personal actions, are meant to create a world of “Never Again” for any population. This is that final step. And it is being done by many educators that I have known for years and those I met on this trip – in Germany and other countries where the Holocaust happened. And while many educators here strive to do the same with our “embarrassing” history, the past few years have made their work even harder.

Synagogue in Steinsfurt

I know that this is not a perfect metaphor as those who did the evil of the Holocaust are not the ones showing that they would not repeat those actions. Thank God those who did commit them were not offered such an opportunity. But it does work to explain my confusion at the student’s question. It is the same as here, those of us being asked to make right the mistakes of our country’s past are also not the ones guilty of its crimes. Some would use this as an excuse to not address the errors of the past, many do, both here and in other countries. But those who committed these atrocities are no longer alive and if we don’t address the ongoing hurt and damage, who will? Generational trauma, as many in this community sadly know, is a very real thing. So, so must be generational responsibility for working to heal that trauma and absolutely to end ongoing systematic inequalities based in those past actions.

Joseph has to manufacture an elaborate ruse to test his brothers to see if they have learned from their treatment of him and its impact on their father and family. He sees that now they place their father’s wellbeing over their envy of any favoritism towards Benjamin, and so, he is able to reveal himself. Our human relationships can be obscured by past hurts that have not been fully healed. We may have to present ourselves as someone else and hide behind disguises or positions of power to protect our feelings and safety. Forgiveness follows repentance and forgiveness allows a break from the past. Hannah Arendt states in The Human Condition “Forgiveness liberates us from the past. Forgiveness breaks the irreversibility of reaction and revenge. It is the undoing of what has been done.” Rabbi Sacks states “Humanity changed the day that Joseph forgave his brothers. When we forgive and when we are worthy of being forgiven, we are no longer prisoners of our past.”   When offered with an opportunity for that final test of repentance, I hope that we are all able to both show and receive proof of sincerity and an opportunity for healing. Humanity will not move forward until this happens on both the small and large scale. 

A thank you to Yiscah Smith whose posting about this week’s parsha led me to Rabbi Sack’s writings on it and provided the Hannah Arendt quote. Shabbat Shalom. 

(As an aside – after reading this out loud I opened Twitter on my phone – the first post was about teaching the narrative of resistance by Africans in the Atlantic Slave trade and specifically the number of rebellions – and the third was about listening to Black people about what they think is best related to reparations from an account entitled “Antiracism best practices.” The one in between was about Putin.)

A Pandemic Poem by a Teacher…

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It felt good…and awful at the same time…

It all began with having to tell 8th grade we weren’t going on our trip to Israel.

Heartbreaking. Disappointing. 9 years of waiting, and now nothing.

Then talk of having to go remote.

Our small school managed the beginning really well.

We were prepared – already planning to go remote when the decree came.

We are ready to “pave the road as we are already driving on it.”

Worked hard to connect and be “live” as much as we could with the kids each day.

Check-ins in the morning and at the end of the day.

Story time with teachers, even for middle schoolers

Finding ways to play a game in TEAMS

Adjusting the schedule in response to student needs and our own.

Office hours. Asynch. Synched. Doing what works, each day.

Doing Color Wars virtually with teams and themes and games

Graduation online with parents presenting diplomas

For a horrible situation we did as well as anyone could. 

It felt good…and awful at the same time.

Fall. 

Supposed to be able to be in person again. Still too risky.

Preschool is on campus. Outside, all day. Every day. It’s Seattle.

They have rain gear and snow gear and boots and hats.

Kindergarten, First, Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth.

Slowly they return and are masked. Distanced. Doors open. Windows open.

Sanitizer sprayed. Hands washed outside. Lunch outside. Recess masked.

But they are here and they, and the teachers, are healthy.

Middle schoolers begin to return. Alternate days. Hybrid. Kids at risk still home.

The worst – trying to teach to kids in the room and on Teams at the same time

Exhausting. Sore neck. Migraines.

It felt good…and awful at the same time.

Testing begins. Spit test. Once a week. Everyone on campus.

Middle school returns full time except those at risk. Hybrid continues. I hate it.

“Time to spit” Not words I ever thought I would say to a student. Let alone weekly.

We are masked. Hands washed before each class – outside – cold water – frozen hands.

Windows open. Doors open. Sanitizer by the gallon. Wiping desks hourly. Distanced

Lunch in the “wedding tents” outside. Recess with a mask. Warm, cold, wet, dry, windy, snowy.

If it’s 35 outside, it is 35 inside. No snow days but two “cold” days off. But we are here.

We are on campus. The kids are together. They are learning.

I am happy. I am also stressed. I am tired. I am worried. I am sad.

It felt good…and awful at the same time.

Israel cancelled again. A promise to go somewhere. Do something. 

But where? What?

So much angst and anxiety and stress and sadness in the students.

Mental Health issues like no other year.

VACCINES! For teachers! 

Gov Inslee makes teachers first line workers, and we can get them NOW!

Trip for first shot with two colleagues. We cry. We are so happy and relieved and grateful.

Every adult on campus vaccinated in the first couple weeks.

Still spitting. Every Wednesday. Time to spit kids!!!

VACCINES! For teens! A ray of light. An opening. A trip could actually happen.

Second shots for teachers 

Again with my colleagues – wearing our “Science is Real Shirts”

A gift from me at the start of the year to make it clear where we all stood

It felt good…and awful at the same time.

We begin to plan a four-day trip to the Olympic Peninsula – the kids are thrilled

It’s a lot of work. Planning food, activities, rooming, transportation

Students and teachers are podded. 

Extra spitting and tests so we can be unmasked on the trip.

We leave campus masked then, take them off. Van ride fun.

“Peaches” by the Presidents of the United States on full blast. Car games.

Seeing their whole faces for the first time in a year – wow they’ve grown!

First night they realize that if they can be unmasked, they can hug. 

14-year-olds so happy to hug

Lots of hugging. Big bear hugs. Crying. Laughing. Joy. Relief.

It felt good…really really good.

Four amazing days with kids who are grateful for every minute of it

Four days of almost “normal” Four days of just being teens with their friends on a trip

It WAS good…really really good

Graduation in person. Limited guests. Must be vaxxed. Masked. Distanced.

But in person.

Peaches is the class song (yes, I take the credit).

I love this class. 

We have been through so much together and have had so many great discussions

We have lived through a pandemic, remote learning, spitting each week, supporting each other

Being grateful and giddy when we can see whole faces and maybe even hug.

It was good…and it was also sad, but things seemed to be lifting. 

Maybe I would get to travel?

No travel. Thanks Delta Variant.

Spitting. Testing. 3000 plus tests. Not one positive test. We made it through the year Covid free.

That was very good.

School year three – what will it be?

Windows still open. Doors still open. Masks still on. Seats still distanced. Sanitizer on tap.

But everyone on campus. Middle School teachers refuse to do hybrid.

Learning begins. Stress builds. Tired and short tempered even from the start.

Why are we still in this place? Frustration. 

Testing.

Rapid Tests now. Every Thursday. I have the period free so offer to help.

Kindergarten through 8th parade through my room to get a swab.

Little ones cry and refuse. 

They get to know me and enjoy my room. Even if they hate the swab. 

It felt good…and awful at the same time.

Gratitude we have tests. Gratitude that the state is providing them.

Anger that this is how the students know me – the one with the swab that they hate.

But we get through the fall. Students get vaccinated. Masks are worn. Teachers boosted.

We persevere. We are here. On campus. Learning. Masked/Vaxxed/Distanced/Tested

Break. Talk of travel quarantines. Rules for vaxxed and un. More testing. Days gone.

Return from winter break. Kids out with Covid. Families sick. Omicron.

Testing day one – one positive.

Testing day two – another positive. 

And another,  after being at school all day

Testing day three – another positive. 

And it is cold. So cold. Miserably cold as you try to learn, to teach

Staff is stressed. Angry. Feeling at risk. Feeling unheard.

Day four – another positive. Teacher out. Classes exposed. Teachers exposed.

School will be closed tomorrow. Staff to talk and plan, then to rest. 

To be home and warm and safe.

Kids to rest. Exposure chain to hopefully be broken. Masks to be upgraded/doubled.

Back on Monday. Middle School now tests every day. Every day starts with a swab.

“Morning. Here’s a swab.” “good to see you. Here’s a swab.”

Teachers test and text their results to each other each morning.

We are excited to be negative day after day after day after day after day

Every morning testing 22 students. Praying for 22 negatives.

It felt good…and awful at the same time.

I am grateful for the tests. I am grateful for the science. I am grateful for the ability to be on campus and feel safer. I am grateful to have my students in front of me and able to be together and learn. I am grateful for a school, and admin, a community that enables us to test, supports wearing masks, eating outside, freezing cold classrooms, and vaccinating their children and themselves. Very grateful for colleagues with humor and baked treats and a sense of shared destiny or adventure that has bonded us tightly together. I am grateful for the “Core Four” middle school teacher back-channel chat where we can vent and connect while isolated in our own rooms. All of this has kept me sane and showing up.

Greeting my students each day with a swab makes me sad. Knowing what they have missed, have lost, have had to experience makes me sad. Looking at probably a third year of no trip to Israel makes me sad for them, and for me. Seeing them struggle to know who they are and how to be in this world where we are paving the road as we are driving makes me sad.

It felt good…and awful at the same time

It is almost two full years since this began. I am sure that the anniversary of telling that first 8th grade class that Israel was cancelled will come soon. I am healthy. I have not had Covid. I have three shots on board and will get a fourth, a fifth, whatever it takes. We are now double masking against Omicron.  It is again cold, and we are again bundled up. Students wrapped in blankets. I get to wear a knit cap most days, and that is a small happiness.  

I am depleted. In need of travel. In need of the infusion of energy and new learning that travel and seeing colleagues in other places gives me. I have done 100 zoom webinars but none of them can replace walking in another country breathing in history and new information. I work each day to bring my students the learning I want them to master but adjusted by the awareness of the past two years and its impact on them. On their mental health. On their skills. On their patience. On their focus. On MY focus.

I am well. They are well. We are here and whole and over all very lucky. It is very good…and it has also been very bad. It will continue to impact us all well past the “end.” Whenever that might be.

It felt good…and awful at the same time.

Nance Morris Adler

8 February 2022

Written in a stream of consciousness in about an hour

Arguing for the Sake of Justice – William Cooper and Kristallnacht

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Arguing for the Sake of Justice – William Cooper and Kristallnacht

In the story of Sodom and Gomorrah  Abraham has the holy chutzpah to argue with God about God’s plan to destroy Sodom and Gomorrah along with all of their inhabitants. Abraham bargains God down to an agreement that 10 righteous people will save the cities. We learn from this story that we need to speak up, that we need to be brave to face those in power when we feel they are planning unjust actions and that even if we feel completely powerless – either in relation to those whose actions we are questioning – like God – or perhaps because we truly are – we cannot be silent in the face of injustice.  In my classroom, this awareness is fostered so that my students learn to be Upstanders – rather than bystanders. I have been teaching towards creating Upstanders for 12 years and this summer I was brought to Perth, Australia through a grant from the US Department of State, Office of Cultural Affairs to speak about what and how I teach to create Upstanders. This grant was awarded through We Are Here! Foundation for Upstanders, which was founded by Eli Rabinowitz for the purpose of promoting my work and the Partisan’s song as tools for inspiring Upstanders. For my speaking tour, where I would be speaking mostly to non-Jewish audiences, I wanted to have an Australian angle to my presentations and so looked for an Australian Upstander. I would like to share about this Upstander today.

 

In my 8th grade Jewish History class I teach my students about the Emancipation of Jews under Napoleon. They learn that almost immediately after the Declaration of the Rights of Man awarded the Jews of France equal rights, they had to fight to keep the rights they had just won.The Jews had to prove that they deserved these rights and to show that they were ready to be French Jews, rather than just Jews who lived in France.  We look at the questions posed to the Jewish Notables by Napoleon to determine if they were worthy of being full citizens of France and possessors of equal rights. Students work to answer these questions on their own and then we look at the answers given to Napoleon by the Paris Sanhedrin. We learn that they got to keep their rights, then lost some of them, and then got them back again.

 

After we learn about French Jews getting and, eventually,  getting to keep their rights – and about the spread of this equality across Europe as Napoleon built his empire, we then turned to our “going further” portion of our unit – I teach using an Inquiry model and this penultimate step in the Inquiry Cycle is about taking your learning and applying it in a new way. For this unit we skip ahead to today’s world and look at the rights we would all like to have – the rights we are meant to have -the rights proclaimed as “universal” in 1948 in the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. This document lays out 30 articles giving all humans rights meant to guarantee them a life of dignity and a world where all of one’s needs – not wants – are met in a way that does not cause embarrassment or require feeling beholden to anyone. This document was produced after WWII and the horrors of the Holocaust and was meant to work towards a world where “Never Again” was a realtity for all populations. We review this document and the students are meant to mark any article that they feel is not being “upheld” in today’s world – and I make it clear that I do not mean not upheld in developing nations where one might expect a lapse in full human rights, but right here in their affluent Seattle or Bellevue communities.

 

When my students ask how this project connects to our learning or to Jewish history, I remind them that once we have rights, it is our job to make sure others have them as well and to work towards making the world more equal and kind. It is one thing to think about the rights of others when your own are secured. It is yet quite another to make a stand over the treatment of or loss of rights by another group when the group you belong to has not yet won its own rights – or is even considered fully human. I teach my students that it is their responsibility to fight for the rights of others EXACTLY because they have them and enjoy the benefits of being full citizens. But to belong to an oppressed group, a group deprived of their ancestral lands and still not viewed as equal and full citizens in a nation created on territory where their people have lived for millenia and to go and fight for the rights of others is quite extraordinary.

 

Kristallnacht – or the November Pogrom as it is also called – happened November 9th – 10th, 1938. It was meant to look like a spontaneous popular uprising against the Jews remaining in Germany and Austria in response to the shooting of a minor Nazi diplomat in France by a Polish Jewish teenager. “Regular” Germans were meant to be the main participants in this action and the official Nazi party and SS were meant to be less visible. Evidence from Nazi Party documents shows that this “spontaneous” uprising was carefully planned and carried out according to detailed instructions from the Nazi leadership. Who and what could be attacked was specified in a way to make it so that it was a German issue – no Jews from other countries were to be touched, nor was their property. The goal of keeping other countries out of a German issue was very clear in the instructions. That it was also supposed to be carried out in every town, village and rural corner of Germany was also clear. All the plan was waiting for was an excuse for it to be “spontaneous” and the shooting provided this cover. In addition to millions of Deutsche Marks worth of damage to Jewish businesses, homes and houses of worship, around 30,000 Jewish men were rounded up in the first mass arrest of Jews and taken to Dachau and other concentration camps. Thousands of Jews were beat up and at least 100 died. The Jews were billed 1 billion Reichsmark to clean up and repair the damage done by others to their properties! The message “you are not welcome here” was now heard loud and clear and those Jews who had remained to this point realized that they needed to leave and as quickly as they could. In our own congregation there are several people who left Germany within days of Kristallnacht. My husband’s family only left then, urged on by the arrest of his great- uncle Paul. It was a clarion call that no, you are not “more German than Jewish” and no, this will not “just go away.” News of the events in Germany were reported around the world and the message of the dire situation in Germany was clear to not just the Jews living there.

 

The news found its way to Australia and reached even those in the Aboriginal community. One of the people who read about these events was William Cooper. Cooper was a leader in the Aboriginal Rights movement and had spent much of his adult life advocating for recognition of the Indigenous population of Australia as humans, as citizens and has having equal rights and equal access to a productive and meaningful life. He had petitioned the Australian Parliament and even wrote a letter to the King of England because, while he was not recognized as a citizen of Australia, he was still a subject of the English Crown. William Cooper was a leader of the Australian Aboriginal League and was a member of a people who had suffered much at the hands of white settlers in Australia. Much like the native peoples of North America, the Aborigines were victims of attempted genocide, cultural genocide, loss of land and were viewed as unequal to white Europeans. I was horrified as I read about the treatment of Aboriginals by European settlers and the continued oppression of them. That they were classified as “flora and fauna” – literally equivalent to rabbits and other pests that could be shot if they were on your land – up until the year I was born – actually until just 8 days before I was born – is mind boggling. While state laws in the early 1960s had given the Indigenious rights in parts of Australia, the 1967 Referendum, is seen as giving them full status as Australian citizens, and was passed on 27 May, 1967. I was outraged as I read about their struggles for their rights and recognition as human beings deserving of equal treatment.

William Cooper learned about the events of Kristallnacht and assumed that there would be a protest in the white European community. He waited to hear what would be said and done to get Germany to stop their oppression of the Jews. But there was no outcry. So, on December 6th, 1938, William Cooper  tried to present a resolution condemning the actions of the Kristallnacht to the German/Nazi Consulate in Melbourne. He had made an appointment but when he arrived with a group of protestors and was discovered to be Aboriginal, he was refused entrance. Cooper left the letter at the Consulate and, despite some press at the time, the story was quickly  forgotten until a few years ago.

 

So, why did this man and his fellow Aboriginal activists take this action? Why did they write a letter and then walk 7 kms from Footscray to downtown Melbourne to try and present it to the German consulate? Shouldn’t their concern for their own fight for rights have taken all their focus? How did they have energy to fight for others when they were still deep in their own fight? They had suffered much of what the Jews had experienced over centuries in Europe and what they would go on to suffer at the hands of the Nazis in the next seven years. They were able to see beyond their own suffering and humiliation to recognize another group similarly suffering and to speak out on their behalf. They knew, all too clearly, the atrocities that are committed against those with no rights and who are seen as less than human. They did not want this to happen to anyone else. This is the empathy one would hope that suffering creates in one, but it is often hard for those still actively oppressed have the ability to step outside their own fight for justice to fight for others. They just don’t have the energy or time or bandwidth. Even more rare when those others are thousands of miles away, and when even those who should be raising an alarm are not doing so. While many other groups in Australia went on to raise concerns and call for a stop to the inhumane treatment of Jews by the Nazis, that the first group was Aborigines is quite astonishing and worth investigating and honoring.

 

In learning about the history of white, European settlement of Australia, it is clear that the Aboriginal population were seen as racially inferior and dispensable. The parallels between their experiences over 150 years and those of the Jews under Hitler are startling. These similarities give rise to the idea that perhaps the appeal on behalf of the Jews by William Cooper was also a call to give attention to the treatment of Aborigines in Australia. Perhaps if people could be directed to give their attention to pending genocide on the European continent, they might have their eyes opened to what was occuring on their own. Encouraging Australians to protest the treatment of Jews could lead to a confrontation about their attitudes towards their own minority that was being oppressed and eliminated. This brings to mind the story from King David’s life where Nathan the Prophet gets David to see his crimes against Uriah by telling a parable about a rich man with many sheep who steals and slaughters the one sheep of his poor neighbor rather than one of his own for an unexpected guest. David – who had stolen Uriah’s wife and had Uriah killed – declares this man should be harshly punished and Nathan says “This man is you.” Perhaps Cooper and his colleagues hoped the same could be accomplished with the Australian government and society.  It is also common that those who have suffered come to the support of others who are suffering the same oppression – Jews were allies of Blacks in the fight for Civil Rights in the US, and also involved in the work to gain rights for Aborigines in Australia. But this is usually after the first group has freed themselves from oppression – It is easier to work for others when you feel secure – so much braver and harder when you don’t yet have that security of equality before the law.

 

Viv Parry, an amazing Australian woman who uses art therapy with Aboriginal men who are in recovery, learned the story of Wiliam Cooper and decided to make a film about it.  Viv is Jewish and she was already using the lessons of the Holocaust to help counter prejudice in her clients. Having them hear the stories of Holocaust survivors was impactful as they connected to the commonalities of experience. She brought Alf Turner- known as Uncle Boydie – who is William Cooper’s grandson – and Moshe Fiszman – a survivor from Poland together to talk about their experiences and the histories of their two people. In the film “The Ties that Bind” – Moshe  tells Uncle Boydie, that he can’t believe that the Aborigines would come down and protest at the German Consulate when they themselves were “not treated as others by the Australian government.” Moshe continues “The Aborigines could feel it – because they themselves were subjected to a lot of problems…” This film is a record of a meeting between these two men in 2016 to discuss their experiences and the parallels in them. Moshe shares his story of survival and the miracle that he is alive and “here” to have this conversation. Uncle Boydie reaches out to pat Moshe’s knee and tells him “Well, I am glad you are here mate.” It is the place in the movie that got a response from every audience I shared it with in Australia – from middle schoolers to adults – they all loved this moment of human connection between these two survivors of hatred and oppression.

 

Uncle Boydie, as a young boy, went with his grandfather and the others on that march from Footscray to the German Consulate – a walk he has since re-enacted as seen in the film. He shares in the film, and also told me when I was privileged to get to speak to him by phone while in Melbourne, that he “knew my grandfather would do this – that was the man he was – he was not fussed a bit to go down there and protest. I lived with him for 8 or 9 years and I knew he would do it.”  Moshe Fiszman compares Cooper to Gandhi in terms of a fighter for the rights of his own people, and for the Jews.

 

When a group is being oppressed, it often relies on the help of those not in the group to survive and escape persecution. During the Holocaust, Jews in many countries were helped by their non-Jewish neighbors and friends – and often by complete strangers. These people were motivated by many things – religious conviction that what was being done was wrong and needed to be resisted, friendship and love, a shared humanity that made not helping not even a possibility, past favors being returned and a shared resistance to the Nazis, Hitler and fascism in whatever form it was in their country. These individuals have earned the distinction of “Righteous Gentile” or “Righteous among the Nations” from Yad Vashem. To earn this title, one must have acted out of altruism – this means that there was no reward, or payment for what they did. These people almost always acted at great risk to themselves and their families. If caught, they, along with the Jews they were helping, would be likely shot on sight. The vast majority – in fact almost all – of these Righteous lived in countries were the Holocaust was happening. They were giving material aid to Jews in their country, town, village, neighborhood. Some were from countries not directly impacted, but were serving in a diplomatic capacity in those countries – Ambassadors Sugihara and De Sousa Mendes come to mind. Each of these men wrote hundreds of illegal visas so Jews could escape to a safer place.

 

William Cooper is a Righteous Gentile. As he did not live where the Holocaust was occurring and did not provide direct aid to Jews, he cannot officially be given this title by Yad Vashem, but I have little doubt if he had lived there, he would have acted in a way that would earn him that title – as Uncle Boydie said “He wasn’t fussed a bit to do it.” He was honored at Yad Vashem by the establishment of an endowed Chair of Resistance Studies in the International School of Holocaust Studies at Yad Vashem. The Jews of Australia were not many, and they were not at risk. It is William Cooper’s actions, as an individual, as a member of a disenfranchised group himself, that have earned him his place in history. While other groups in Australia may have spoken out and called for Germany to cease its inhumane treatment of Jews, they were usually motivated by a connection to those being persecuted – and all of them, other than the Aboriginal League – were full citizens, with full rights in their country. Unions protested the persecution of unions, communists and other political groups – which likely included Jews but they were not the first concern. Discussion of providing a haven for Jewish refugees is peppered with mentions of their hard working attitude, assumed wealth, and the benefit they would have to Australia as settlers in all that open land – likely taken from those Cooper represented. That Cooper and others from the Aboriginal community took it upon themselves to protest is a striking display of their sense of a shared fate with the Jews of Europe. Of their awareness of what could happen when you were seen as less than human. Of their desire to prevent the Jews from suffering what they themselves suffered. William Cooper stood to gain nothing from his actions. He had no connection to the Jews of Europe. But he knew what it was like to be persecuted based on one’s racial or ethnic identity and did not wish that on anyone else. We should all be so inspired by the sufferings of our people to work for all who are at risk.

Dancing with the Remnants – My Reflections on The Bielski Partisan Gathering

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Dancing with the Remnants – My Reflections on The Bielski Partisan Gathering

Dancing with the Remnants 

Marking the 75th Anniversary of Liberation from the Nazis with the Bielski Partisans

Nance Morris Adler

Shabbat Shuva 5780 

 

Shomer Yisrael, Sh’mor Sh’erit Yisrael

V’al yovad Yisrael, ha-omrim: Sh’ma Israel.  

 

Guardian of Israel, guard the remnant of Israel; and preserve the people of Israel, who proclaim: “Sh’ma Yisrael. 

 

Shomer Israel is one of my favorite pieces of liturgy. I love singing it each Sunday morning that I lead minyan. As a student and a teacher of Jewish history, I know far too much about our remnants and the importance of remembering them. This summer I was privileged to be invited to attend the first ever reunion and gathering of the descendants, and one surviving brother, of the Bielski Partisan brigade. These truly were the remnants – children and grandchildren of the less than 10% of Polish Jews who survived World War II and the Shoah. While we were in what is currently Belarus, Naliboki and Novogroduk were in Poland at the start of the war and the residents of those places would be counted as Poles. 

 

I have taught about the Bielskis – brothers Tuvia, Zus, Asael and Aron and their partisan brigade – for 10 years – really since I first learned about them at a workshop of the Jewish Partisan Education Foundation – and before they were made “famous” by the movie “Defiance”. It is because of this that I was encouraged to attend by the organizer of the event, Tamara Vershitskaya, who is the main historian of the Bielskis and Novogroduk. I have proudly worn my shirt with the image of Zus Bielski on it on every trip I have taken to Israel with my 8th graders, usually on the day we go to Yad Vashem. My students learn about Jewish Partisans and Ghetto Fighters and know that there are Jews who fought back. Never did I imagine that I would be able to visit the Bielski Camp – a place that I try each year to describe to my students, using a crude map that was drawn after the war, and GoogleEarth images of dense Eastern European forests. That I would sit and eat breakfast several mornings, as well as lunch and at least one dinner, with Aron Bielski – the youngest of the four brothers – and become friends with children and grandchildren of Tuvia, Zus and others of the Bielski clan – never ever could I have imagined this. And I am sure that Tuvia and Zus never imagined that I, a Jewish history teacher from Seattle would help their grandchildren hang a mezuzah on a tree in the Naliboki Forest – Forest Jerusalem – in the middle of the site of the Bielski Camp. But this summer I got to do these things. 

 

The city of Novogrudok was multicultural and there were good relations between its Jews and Gentiles. When WWII broke out, it was firmly in the part of Poland that had been given to the USSR in the secret Molotov-Ribbentrop agreement. When later the Nazis invaded and came to Novogrudok, neighbors helped neighbors. It was this many years of cooperation and relationships that contributed to the events that followed. The arrival of the Nazis meant that a ghetto was of course formed and the Jews were put there. As time passed and it became clear that the ghetto would be liquidated and what that meant, the leaders in the ghetto decided that something must be done. They decided to build a tunnel. They had contacts outside the ghetto and they knew that if they could get out they could get to the Bielski Camp and have a place to be safe. This history of good relations was evident still today in the welcome that this gathering received both in Novogroduk and in Naliboki. The gathering began on the 75th anniversary and the same dignitaries and nonagenarians with their chests covered in Soviet war medals that were at the commemoration in the center of Novogroduk were present at and participated in the welcoming ceremony for the Bielski reunion. In a land where Jews visiting the sites of their ancestor’s homes often return with stories of stony silence and a less than friendly reception, we were greeted like long lost relatives and friends. 

 

One example of actions of the citizens of Novogroduk is the Kozlowski family who sheltered over 500 Jews over the occupation. When someone was able to get out of the ghetto or was passing from another village or town through Novogroduk to the Bielski Camp, the Kozlowski’s would hide them for a few days until it was safe to travel and then send them on their way. I met Lola Bielski and her two grandsons. As a very young child Lola was hidden in Novogroduk by a Polish family during the occupation. She shared her story with us at breakfast one morning, including photos from an earlier visit when she went to see the house where she had been hidden. The two ladies who worked in the kitchen of the hostel where we were staying were so excited by these photos. They knew the house, they knew the people. They knew the family that had hid Lola. They knew her friend, or at least his children, who had kept her company when she was a hidden child. They were so excited to see the photos and hear Lola’s story.

 

Back to the tunnel – so the tunnel was dug. It was hard work – hard to dig – hard to hide the digging -hard to hide the dirt. But 203 meters later, they were sure they were past the ghetto wall and were ready to plan the actual escape.  120 people successfully escaped from the Novogroduk Ghetto – it is the most successful escape from a camp or ghetto in the entire Holocaust. They were able to survive because they had help outside the ghetto and a place to go – the Bielski Camp where Tuvia Bielski was known for his policy of accepting every Jewish person -men, women, the elderly and children – into the camp and keeping them safe. Tuvia believed that every Jewish life saved was a victory over Hitler.  100 of the escapees went to the Bielski camp. 

 

At the reunion, when I would meet someone new the usual greeting was “Partisan or Tunnel?” I would answer “Neither.” The person would generally look confused and then ask why I was there. I would explain I was a teacher and had been teaching about the Bielskis for 10 years. This slowly turned me into a bit of a celebrity and instead of “Partisan or Tunnel” by day 2 the greeting was “So, I understand you are a famous American historian who knows everything about the Bielskis.” To which I would reply, “I am sure you have the wrong person.” (Apparently they didn’t) But it was a bit less awkward than being quizzed so I learned to say “well, not quite, but yes.” This at least made me feel like I was no longer crashing someone’s family reunion and more like the second cousin no one met before. 

 

And in reality by this time, I did feel a bit like family. I was staying at the Catholic Hostel in Novogroduk and Aron Bielski and his wife were also there along with Lola and her two grandsons and Bella Bielski Rubin and her two sons and other Bielski relatives. This meant we spent a lot of time together visiting and sharing meals and a few l’chaims. Aron and I had become buddies the first night over l’chaims with the priest. Shahar and Uriyah Rubin and I spent a lot of time talking and they, in my mind, most truly embodied the spirit of their grandparents and the partisans. Shahar lives in the Carmel Mountains in Israel and teaches survival skills. He was clearly at home in the woods and very much in his element here where his relatives had provided a haven for the Jews who could reach them. 

 

Aron spoke to this the first evening – very briefly – public speaking was not his favorite activity. What he said, says a lot about the realities of Polish Jewish life in this area – a Jewish world that was lost and is not really understood today. 

 

“When the Nazis came, our father told us “Go to the woods and live.” And we did. And we survived not because we were the smartest, the most educated or most worldly. We weren’t. We were country folk. We knew the woods. We knew how to take care of ourselves. We knew how to survive in the woods. And so we lived.” 

 

The Bielskis were the only Jews in their village. They ran the mill. The boys ran wild and were – as lovingly described by Uriyah “hooligans” – they survived because they were tough and knew how to get by. Their Polish was perfect without a Yiddish accent. They passed as Polish and were able to move about in the towns and villages finding Jews who needed their help. They were tough as nails and had to make tough choices to protect those in the camps – but also saved 1200+ Jewish lives because that was the right thing to do. We forget that Jews in Eastern Europe were as or more likely to be millers and farmers than urban intellectuals. This awareness is part of what was lost in the destruction of Jewish life village by village by the Nazis. 

 

On the second day we went to the “Forest Jerusalem” – the Naliboki Forest where the Bielski camp was located. On the way there we stopped in the village of Naliboki where we were greeted again like returning heroes. The mayor, the head of the local Communist party, and a troupe of traditional musicians/singers greeted us in the Main Street. The Mayor presented us with a beautifully decorated loaf of bread – the traditional greeting in this area – and the group sang. A downpour began in the middle of this and it did not stop the welcome or the singing. The local villagers were all going about their morning and were also welcoming and friendly. Uriyah joined a group in the bus stop and asked me to take a picture.  This “what might have been” snapshot is one of my favorite pictures from the trip. The same troupe welcomed us back after our visit to the Forest and the locals provided our group with a “Partisan’s lunch” which featured local produce and lots of homemade vodka. The head of the local Communist party was preaching love and togetherness of all peoples facilitated by “more vodka” as she worked the room filling (to the top) people’s cups with her peace-making liquid. And yes, I did finish all of mine. 

 

We then moved on in a long caravan of vans and cars and locals who joined in as we headed into the forest. There is a sign at the entrance to where the camp was and I was thrilled to see the familiar map of the camp that I and my students look at each year as I teach them about how developed the camp was – with a bakery, hospital, school and various workshops as well as ziemlankas – underground bunkers covered in logs and branches as camouflage – for living in. I wandered off into the woods on my own as the speechifying went on a bit long – there was a representative from the Israeli Embassy to Belarus there as well as other dignitaries. In the quiet of the woods I wandered through looking for signs of the camp, indications of where bunkers might have been dug into the ground. It was an amazing feeling walking through this place that I have tried to imagine and then describe to my students for 10 years. I reached a point in the path where a tree had been used to make an arch over the pathway and entered a wide meadow. Past this meadow I went off the path and into the woods. I found what appeared, and was confirmed later, to be a small storage ziemlanka/bunker that was still intact. I continued to meander back towards the group and found others exploring on their own as well. These were the children of those whose lives had been saved in these woods and, based on my own emotions,  I have to imagine this was a very emotional experience for them. 

 

When I rejoined the main group, many were standing in the deepest of the remaining ziemlanka depressions. Some metal artifacts from the camp had been found and people were looking for others. We then all moved back towards the center of the space where Shahar had determined that we needed to dance. Fiddles were brought out and a circle made. The Bielski children and grandchildren joined in the middle of the circle and danced as everyone else clapped and sang. I was standing next to the daughter of Asael Bielski – born the day he died and named Asaela in his honor. Watching the children and grandchildren of those whose lives were saved in this very spot was an amazing experience. I wept both for joy at their being alive and here and in sadness for those who were not there. The sheer joy in their faces and the sense of vindication and victory over Hitler, the Nazis and their collaborators was overwhelming. Dancing with the remnants of the Jewish community of Novogroduk and Naliboki was a spiritual experience and I felt so blessed to be part of it. 

 

After the dancing Sharon, the granddaughter of Tuvia, wanted to put up a mezuzah she had brought with her. She had brought it on her first trip to the camp years before but the weather had prevented her being able to hang it. I offered to help with the blessing and rituals of hanging a mezuzah and set off with Sharon, her cousin Matty (Zus’s grandson) and a few other Bielskis. They picked a tree to the side of the path and began to look for something to pound in the nails. Before we hung the mezuzah, Matty put on his tefillin and said the Sh’ma. He was wearing them as he hammered in the nails using a thick branch – this felt very authentically “Partisan style” way to hang a mezuzah. I have amazing photos of him putting it up and then Sharon saying the blessing and the Sh’ma. This was also an incredible experience – to be marking these woods, this camp that kept safe 1250 Jewish lives during the Shoah, as a Jewish home was so significant. Lola brought over her grandson to kiss the mezuzah as well. This sense of reclaiming the woods, of making it a Jewish place, of honoring those who lived and died there 75 years before was quite holy to me. It might have been the Bielskis and the other partisans who were physically guarding the remnant here during the war, but the sense of the Divine was clear to me in those woods. They were and are a holy place where the sanctity of Jewish lives was not dependent on the ability to fight or having shown up with a weapon that could be used to kill Nazis. Tuvia made sure that every Jewish life that could be saved, was. Those who joined him and supported this mission did their part to keep safe women, children and the eldery. And the non-Jews who helped, protected, fed, and hid their Jewish neighbors were all doing holy work as well.  To be able to celebrate this with the descendents of those who were saved, or did the saving, was truly inspiring.

 

I teach my students about the partisans to show that Jews did fight back, they resisted and they helped each other survive – what that looked like was not always as impressive as the Bielski camp and the lives they saved, but each act of resistance was done by – to quote Eli Wiesel – those who were “beaten, starved and tortured” and whose ability to resist was almost nonexistent. I want my students to know these stories so they can feel pride. So they are inspired to also be Upstanders and help when they can – even when they themselves might feel powerless. Being able to bring back to my classroom this experience, the pictures, the stories, to tell a boy who made a copy of the camp map for a project last year – “I stood right here” and point to a place on his map and see the look on his face is so powerful. I danced in the Bielski Camp in the Naliboki forest on the anniversary of their liberation – and even though it is not my story or my history – even though I am not “Partisan or Tunnel” it will count as one of the most emotionally powerful moments in my life – a moment when God was close – perhaps even dancing with the remnants as well. 

D’var Shabbat Shuvah 5777 – Two Modes of Reconciliation with a Difficult Past – Terezin and Berlin

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Terezin or Berlin – Two Models for Reconciling with a Difficult Past
Shabbat Shuvah 5777 – Parshat Vayelekh
Nance Adler
I hadn’t originally tied my d’var to the Parshat this week – I was focusing on the theme of t’shuva for Shabbat Shuvah – but was struck by these verses as the Torah was being read this morning. I will read these two verses and leave them there – they will make sense later.
“Gather the people – men, women, children, and the strangers in your communities – that they may hear and so learn to revere the Lord your God and to observe faithfully every word of this Teaching. Their children too, who have not had the experience, shall hear and learn to revere the Lord your God as long as they live in the land that you are about to cross the Jordan to possess.” Deuteronomy 31:12-13

This summer I participated in my third Centropa Summer Academy. Centropa is an organization with its headquarters in Vienna, Austria that is working to document Jewish life in the 20th century in Central and Eastern Europe and the Balkans – that of the “Jews who went home after the Holocaust” as I refer to them. I use their materials heavily in my classroom and do many projects in collaboration with other Centropa teachers in Europe, Israel and other US schools. This year’s trip was to Vienna, Prague, Terezin and Berlin and focused on the experience of refugees. But I am not here to talk about refugees – though I could.
Today is Shabbat Shuva – the Shabbat between Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur – a day focused on the theme of return, repair and fixing the past as best we can. We are focused for these 10 days on tzedahka, teffila and t’shuva. But can we always fix the past? How do we repair what is broken when the break is so severe and those who were wronged are no longer here? How do we return to a point where “normal” life can continue in places where huge ruptures have occurred? Not individual ruptures or breakage – but cultural/national/regional ruptures that are not easily healed over. How do we dwell in the places where these things have happened and obtain a sense of normalcy again? Can we?
I would like to think about this question in relation to two places I visited this summer and then try to bring these analogies down to the personal level. I will start with a short blog post I wrote on the bus immediately after visiting Terezin.
“Terezin – Today I visited Terezin – Theresenstadt – the fortified city that became a Jewish ghetto during World War II. Prior to the 1940s and, again since then, Terezin was an actual town. First for the military and then for civilians as well. Walking through Terezin as visitors to a “museum” of the Ghetto, it was jarring and upsetting to be shaken out of the past by cars careening down the streets with their stereos blaring. The former housing and associated buildings used to imprison tens of thousands of Jews now house hair salons, bars, shops and even a pension – a small inn near where Jews would be loaded into trains for the trip to Auschwitz. The man in his speedo on the deck of this inn was really the final indignity. I personally can’t imagine living on the site of a Nazi created ghetto – a place where 33,000 people died from illness, starvation and poor treatment. How do you give your address? How do you invite people to visit you at your home? The atmosphere in the town is heavy with history – it was hard being there two hours – how does one live there? On the edge of “town”, just past the quaint little pension, there is a directional sign to the crematorium. I cannot imagine driving daily past this sign on my way in and out of town. Yes, evil and awful things happen/have happened in many places in the world, but some places are more tainted with this evil. For me, the idea of living in such a place is unthinkable. To try to have a normal, mundane life with the daily reminders of ultimate evil all around seems absurd. Perhaps the blaring radios and unsafe speed for streets full of museum visitors are just symptoms of this insanity.”
At Terezin there is both a memorial and museum to the past and an attempt to have life go on. They are side by side. There is no seeming connection between the two. Normal life goes on – or tries to – shoulder to shoulder with groups touring a place where people were starved and worked to death because they were Jews. I get that the Czech citizens living there now are not the descendants of Nazis who ran the camps. I get that it was on occupied territory and run by the occupying government. But, still, how does one wake up in the morning and start your day positively if part of your commute includes driving by sites of mass murder? How do you disconnect your reality from that reality?
Berlin – In Berlin we visited the “Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe.” Let me repeat that name – its official name –Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe. There are no punches being pulled here. No euphemisms or soft selling of the fact of what happened and that this was the capital of the government that made it happen. It is a visually moving memorial with an equally moving and powerful “information center” built directly underneath it. This memorial is made up of different sized stelae or cement pillars. There are walkways between them which are uneven and give you the feeling of being off balance. Being in the center of it, where the pillars are tallest, is a whole body experience and very disorienting. While on the outskirts of the memorial – which is not well marked and very open to the public – people are not really aware of where they are, in the middle of it, it is hard to not be impacted by the experience.
When we entered the Information Center – it is not referred to as a museum – Ed Serotta – the founder and director of Centropa – spoke to our group before we toured the exhibits. Ed is not a man known for filtering his opinions or moderating his views – one of his more endearing features in my opinion. He said “When I first came here, before it opened, I went through looking for places where they had pulled their punches or been less than truthful. I found none.” To me this was a very high recommendation of the place – Ed is always quite happy to find where more could be said to take full responsibility for the crimes of genocide. As I went through the Center, I found that I was in agreement with Ed. Those of you who know me, know that the Holocaust is my specialty and I have spent a lot of time touring museums, reading books, going to seminars and otherwise immersing myself in this most horrible chapter of our history. The Information Center of the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe is the most brutally honest and upfront presentation of the horrors of Nazi Germany and the Final Solution that I have seen. That it exists in Berlin, near the Reichstag, in what was the center of the Nazi Reich, is amazing to me. There is no ignoring of the past. This is an airing of what was done, with no excuses being made. The crimes of the past are presented. Those guilty are named. There is no attempt at normalcy – the whole construction of the surrounding memorial is made to throw you off kilter and not allow you to feel normal or on firm ground. This is a place for coming to terms with the sins of the past and, even more importantly, educating those who visit about the importance of not repeating that past.
Other memorials in Berlin are similarly present and hard to miss such as the “Stumbling Stones” in the sidewalk outside homes lived in by Jews and the “Missing House” in the old Jewish Quarter, a plaque honoring homosexuals murdered and imprisoned on the wall of the UBahn Station in the part of town where these men would have likely lived. I know that for many Germans, particularly those living in Berlin, these constant reminders are perhaps too much. Airing one’s dirty laundry is not fun and having it constantly in your face, and also on display for all who visit, can be exhausting and embarrassing. I found Berlin to be one big museum – the outline of the former Berlin Wall is marked on the ground, the Stumbling Stones, the memorial for the Book Burning – it would be hard to live in Berlin and not have the mistakes of the past firmly in mind. The German Government works hard to show it has learned from this past – the acceptance of tens of thousands of refugees this past year is one proof of this. The final step of t’shuva is to not repeat a behavior and Germany, or at least their chancellor,, is working hard to show that Germany has truly learnt the mistakes of its past and does not plan to repeat them. Like in Terezin, life goes on around all of these memorials, but it was a very different experience than the frenetic experience in the ghetto. History is respected, not ignored.
In our own lives, when there is a rupture are we in Terezin – side by side with the reminders but doing our best to drowned them out with music and fast living? Or are we in Berlin – respectfully admitting our guilt and accepting the consequences – and becoming a better person for having done so? Do we allow others to view our past transgressions, but ignore them ourselves? Or, do we use those “stumbling stones” of our experiences to keep ourselves in line and move forward positively? Do we say “I wasn’t responsible, but just a bystander – this has nothing to do with me” and not concern ourselves with the wrongs done around us? Or do we use the errors of others to teach us to be better people as well?
As a student and teacher of history, I know that the power of learning history is to explore the mistakes of others and NOT need to repeat them ourselves. Seeing the patterns of history, the warning signs of future trouble, makes one able to step in and try to prevent that trouble. The USHMM has a Genocide Early Warning team, there are known steps that lead to genocide, known behaviors or events that can lead to mass atrocities. Knowing these allows us to prevent a repeat of humanity’s darkest hours. Yet, genocide continues to happen around the world and we continue, as a society, to not take such signs seriously enough. A speaker I heard this summer said “Knowledge isn’t power – until it leads to action.” Our knowledge of past trouble should lead to actions to prevent future ones.
Seeing the warning signs of trouble in our own lives can be just as hard – but we need to use our past experiences to help us move into the future more positively and more aware. Burying the past may make moving forward easier – but it also makes repeating the past more likely. As painful as facing difficult experiences head on may be, this type of accounting will help to prevent additional painful experiences in the future. We say “Never Again” while all the while genocide and crimes against humanity continue to occur. “Never Forget” is more realistic and will hopefully eventually bring us to a true “Never Again.” Facing our mistakes, fixing what we can fix, mending relationships and rebuilding community and then resolving to keep that experience in mind is what brings us to the final step – not repeating the action. I don’t mean an obsessive fixation on the wrongs – but an awareness that lack of attention can lead to trouble. Whether that trouble is a broken friendship or much larger, an awareness of the impact of our behaviors that is informed by our past experiences – and those of others we know – will help us to minimize the damage or avoid it all together.
I wish for us all the ability to fix the ruptures in our lives and to move forward wiser for the experience. Our world needs citizens aware of history and unafraid to face it and use it to know when our present or our future is about to repeat it. G’mar hatimah tovah. May we all be sealed for a good year.
Nance Adler
Edited to add in edits made during delivery
Note – I had several people come and tell me that I was wrong and people did not live in Terezin – they had been there 10 years or more ago and no one lived there then – I can assure you that all of the businesses I listed and attempts at “ordinary” life were there when I visited this summer.

Article in HaYidion Issue on Talking about God

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Fresh off the press is “The God Issue” of  HaYidion, published by RAVSAK. I am honored to have an article in this journal about my God Talk program that is a key part of my 8th grade Theology course. I am copying the article below (well, my original file of it) and also a link to a PDF for the whole journal which is full of great articles about God. RAVSAK is the Jewish Community Day School Network and this is the third article I have had published in HaYidion.

Talking about God with 8th Graders

 

My favorite part of my job is reading my 8th graders’ Theology papers and especially their God Talk Responses. God Talk is a speaker series that I run as part of Theology. It was not my idea, but I have worked hard to make it a powerful part of my course. Eighteen or so times during the year I welcome a speaker into the class to share their spiritual journey with my students. The speaker might be Jewish, about half the speakers are, or perhaps Wiccan or Bahai. The speaker might actually not walk into my class, but rather be sitting on their porch in Bat Ayin or their living room in Sarajevo and join us via Skype. Whoever, or wherever, my students are sitting attentively, ready to take notes and ask questions.

One speaker, a Chabad Rabbi, doesn’t think that I should invite non-Jews to speak as it is a temptation. Despite this, he continues to come and share his beliefs and humor with my students. And, just like with the Wiccan and the Bahai and the Lutheran, my students are able to clearly and insightfully speak to what they share with this Chabad Rabbi and where their beliefs part ways. Middle Schoolers are curious. They want to know about other religions and people. They will find out about other faiths. I prefer they do it in my classroom, from speakers I have vetted, and who I know are coming to speak in an effort to inform and share, not convert.

My first year I finished off with a fantastic Sufi Muslim speaker who fascinated the students by showing the connections between Islam and Judaism. They listened to every word of the prayer he said before speaking and loved that they could understand some of the Arabic. I was so thrilled with this interaction that I blogged about it and was questioned by parents who wanted to know when I was going to have the “real, fatwah issuing Muslim” in to speak. I was grateful for the opportunity to clarify that I, like my speaker, taught theology and not politics. My goal is to foster connections between my students and people of other faiths. I want them to know where we are the same and where we are different. I trust that they know who they are and will not decide that being Methodist sounds so great that they want to leave Judaism.

And my students don’t disappoint. Week after week they tell me “of course I don’t believe in Jesus like the speaker, but I find it interesting we both agree on…” A student this year wrote this in his paper on our Wiccan speaker “It would be pointless to mention the things that I disagree with Stephanie about regarding our religious beliefs because we follow completely different religions, so I will talk about the concepts in Wicca that I think hold value and should apply to everywhere outside of religion as well. One of these concepts is doing whatever you want as long as it does not cause harm.” Students also show high level thinking and make amazing connections, as in this recent reflection:

I really liked when Pastor Katie said, “God is water and Methodism is the cup.” I think that this means that the cup, Methodism, is a belief that holds inside it God. This quote really expresses her belief of God and her religion. I say this because when you have an empty cup it is without use and when you have water without a cup you can’t drink. Without God, her religion doesn’t have a meaning, and without Methodism, God doesn’t have a place to go. When Pastor Katie said that God is always changing makes me wonder if this could relate to the glass metaphor. I think that it could mean the content in the glass is always different, it could be whatever you want it to be depending on the way you view God…

In addition to introducing my students to other religions, the variety of Jewish speakers who participate helps to show that there are many ways to be Jewish and many types of Jewish communities. Hearing rabbis and lay people from Secular Humanistic Judaism through Chabad shows them the various ways people make meaning out of Jewish text and tradition and can surprise them in what makes sense. One year I had a number of students eager to meet the Secular Humanistic speaker – sure this was where their beliefs would fit. They were surprised to find that they realized that, regardless of one’s personal belief, Judaism with God made no sense to them. They pressed the speaker to help them understand the difference between a “gratitude” for bread and “hamotzi” and an “appreciation” for wine and “Kiddush”, but were not able to get an answer that made sense to them. This made them rethink their assumptions and their ability to do so showed the value of this program.

Discussing God can be hard and providing just one point of view dangerous. My God Talk program allows my students to discover for themselves the many ways to encounter God, as a Jew and as a human. It encourages them to think deeply, view the world differently and respect the beliefs of those around them – Jew or Gentile. It shows them that there is a place in the spectrum of Judaism for them, regardless of their observance, belief in God or connection to traditional views. It allows them to feel pride in seeing the influence of Judaism on other religions, but also know where we are different and why. Despite the fears of my Chabad friend, I remain convinced that my God Talk program makes my students stronger and prouder Jews rather than weakening their connection to Judaism.

http://ravsak.org/hayidion

D’var for Shabbat Shoftim 5774 – Education as Justice

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D’var for Shabbat Shoftim 5774 – Education as Justice

D’var on Shoftim

Aug 30, 2014, 4 Elul 5774

Nance Adler

(This d’var was inspired by my Fund for Teachers Fellowship in Sarajevo with Centropa and my training as a USHMM Teacher Fellow)

צדק צדק תרדוף למען תחיה וירשת את הארץ אשר יי אלהיך נתן לך

Justice, Justice shall you purse, that you may thrive and occupy the land that the Lord your God is giving you.

Our Sages teach that no word in the Torah is extraneous – they all have meaning and the repetition of tzedek – justice – must mean something. Is it just emphasis – you will surely pursue justice – does it indicate the way that we will pursue it – through courts as Rashi interprets it or perhaps in a just manner – the ends don’t justify the means but the means must also be just. This verse is found at the end of a commandment exhorting b’nei Israel to set up courts and appoint magistrates and officials for each tribe when they are in the land. It states that judges will not take bribes and will judge impartially. Is the pursuit of justice merely the purview of courts?

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks would say no and I agree. In his d’var on Shoftim from a few years ago, Rabbi Sacks speaks about the unique nature of Judaism which commands a social order without a political structure to support it. Jewish law is followed without a government to enforce it, without a nation to even practice it in for 2000 years. The observance of Jewish law – and pursuing Justice through the application of that law – is the responsibility of each Jew and is assured through education. To show the efficacy of this, Rabbi Sacks shares a story from Rabbi Levi Yitzhak of Berdichev:

Rabbi Levi Yitzhak of Berdichev once said: “Master of the universe, in Russia there is a Czar, an army and a police force, but still in Russian houses you can find contraband goods. The Jewish people has no Czar, no army and no police force, but try finding bread in a Jewish home on Pesach!”

Rabbi Sacks continues by speaking about Moses leadership and its impact on Jews throughout time:

“What Moses understood in a way that has no parallel elsewhere is that there are only two ways of creating order: either by power from the outside or self-restraint from within; either by the use of external force or by internalised knowledge of and commitment to the law.

How do you create such knowledge? By strong families and strong communities and schools that teach children the law, and by parents teaching their children “when you sit in your house or when you walk by the way, when you lie down and when you rise up.”

Of course, as a teacher, the idea that education is the key to a just society is both appealing and not, at least to me, news. As many of you know, an area of passion for me is teaching the lessons of the Holocaust. I, of course, teach these because it is vital that my Jewish students know this important, and tragic, episode of our history. But I also teach it with a much deeper and, to me, important goal. We all say “never again” but we say it knowing that there is genocide occurring in the world as we are speaking these words. Never again has yet to be assured – just ask the Yazidi or Rwandans or Sudanese, or Bosnians. All of these people have experienced genocidal violence or are experiencing it right now. When I teach about the Holocaust I begin by teaching the steps – 8 or 10 depending on who you ask – that lead to genocide.  Knowing these steps and what they each entail allows genocide experts to predict where genocide is likely to happen and work to help prevent the escalation of violence.

This summer I was honored to have been selected as a United States Holocaust Memorial Museum Teacher Fellow. As part of our training, we heard a lecture from Susan Benesch who specializes in the area of genocide build up connected to language and incitement of violence. We are all familiar with the idea of hate language or speech and the debates about whether or not it is a crime or is protected by the First Amendment. Susan actually goes further to classify some language as “dangerous speech” and sees this type of speech as moving a society towards genocide. There are five variables that Susan has determined for judging if speech is dangerous and they are:

  • a powerful speaker with a high degree of influence over the audience
  • the audience has grievances and fear that the speaker can cultivate
  • the speech act is clearly understood as a call to violence
  • there is a social or historical context that is propitious for violence, for any of a variety of reasons, including longstanding competition between groups for resources, lack of efforts to solve grievances, or previous episodes of violence
  • and there is a means of dissemination that is influential in itself, for example because it is the sole or  primary source of news for the relevant audience

Susan told us about how detecting the use of this type of speech and countering it with positive speech and education can actually avert violence. An example of this was an election in Myanmar. During the previous election cycle there had been dangerous speech used during campaigning and when the results were announced there was serious violence. When this dangerous speech began during the next election, an intentional counter campaign of “positive speech” was undertaken. The elections were held and despite things looking quite dicey, there was no violence. This was seen as an indication of the role that counter speech can play in preventing a society from becoming violent and potentially genocidal.
Imagine if in Germany in the 1930’s academics in Germany had stood by their Jewish colleagues and spoken out against the Nazi propaganda machine rather than abandoning them to it? What if teachers had refused to teach “racial hygiene” and other information that ran counter to what they knew to be true? It is my goal when I teach the Holocaust and genocide that I am helping to educate my students to be people who will stand up, who will recognize dangerous speech and engage in counter speech to keep violence from happening. One cannot be expected to pursue justice if one does not know what injustices are occurring. Sadly we live in a world where finding injustice is far too easy– tracking on all that is going on in the world can be overwhelming and difficult for an empathetic person. Feeling impotent in the face of such violence and hatred is depressing and disheartening. So, how do we all help to do our part to create the just society that God commands us to work for? How do we pursue justice, justly?

I turn back to education – something I am passionate about both as a provider and consumer. This summer I was in Sarajevo as part Centropa’s Summer Academy which was made possible by a Fund for Teachers Fellowship. Prior to my trip I did a lot of reading to prepare. I read 1941: The Year that Keeps Returning – a history of the Ushtasha and the genocidal violence aimed at Serbians by the Croats during World War 2. I read about the siege of Sarajevo in the ‘90’s and the crimes against humanity that occurred elsewhere in Bosnia then. Then I went there. Driving into Bosnia from the border of Croatia to Sarajevo was a journey through a war zone despite the passing of 20 years. Bombed out remains of houses sat next to intact homes with well-tended gardens. It was surreal and upsetting. Sarajevo is full of newly renovated or rebuilt buildings next to those still pock marked with bullet and rocket holes. In the middle of Sarajevo, next to a major church and in the shopping/tourist district sits a hollow frame of a formerly beautiful building. There is a tree growing out the top of the ruins and flowers in the cracks and crevices. I was told its ownership is in dispute and so nothing can be done with it.

This building became an icon for me of the situation in Bosnia. The three groups who live there – Bosniaks who are Muslim, Serbs who are Orthodox  Christians and Croats who are Catholic- were divided by ethnic/religious status and, by order of the Dayton Accords which ended the war in the 90’s, this national identity determines the schools they attend. This means that children in these communities attend different schools. They are not learning together, they are not playing together and they are like this building – stuck in a legal wrangle that makes their future unsure. In addition, no one is learning about what happened in the 90’s – teachers are being asked to begin teaching about it, but don’t have a curriculum and if they did – Bosnians would learn a Bosnian narrative and Serbs a Serbian one. This will not help anyone learn to live together. Centropa, the organization that I traveled to Bosnia with, brought together teachers from these three communities for the first time and asked them to work together on a lesson plan for teaching the Holocaust. This was inspiring to watch and fraught with difficulty. Just being together was difficult. Just being in a majority Bosniak city was difficult for the Serbs. Visiting sites connected to the war in the 90’s was emotional and traumatizing. It also provided a teaching moment about the dangers of language.

We visited the museum of the Tunnel of Life – a tunnel dug under the runway of the airport in Sarajevo so that life sustaining supplies could be brought into the city and people could get out. This museum is private and staffed by the family whose home was at the end of the tunnel. As we learned later, the father usually gives the tours and is humorous and friendly. When we visited the son, who was about my age and lived through the siege as a young man, gave the tour. It was clear he was still very angry and had a great deal of trauma and aggression that he had not dealt with. He spoke about the actions of the “Serbians” whose goal it was to kill the Bosnians. His anger and hatred were clear and because of this I did not really give much credence to what he said. However, to the Serbs in our group, some of whom were only children in the early 90’s, his words were a personal attack accusing them each of being murderers and leaving them visibly shaken. When we returned to our bus one of the Serbians spoke to our group about what he had just experienced. He and I then spoke about the role of teachers in helping to educate so that people knew how to differentiate between the “Serbian Army of Milosovic” and Serbs who had no part in what happened and did not support his actions. There were Serbs who stayed in Sarajevo and suffered during the siege. You would not know that from our guide’s talk. We also had an hour long discussion as a whole group when we returned to the conference room. Each Serbian in our group and one Bosnian spoke about their feelings and concerns and helped us all to work through this situation and realize the power of words and the importance of using them carefully.

My experience in Sarajevo and my conversations with the Serbians and Bosnians convinced me that these people – these dedicated teachers – want their students to know how to live together but are not sure or in agreement about how to teach about the past in a way that will make a unified future a reality. It is important to know that during the 50 years between 1941 and 1991, under Tito and Communism, these three groups did mostly live in harmony. There was evidence all over Sarajevo and in the story of the siege that shows this unity is not unattainable. In “Logavina Street”, a book that tells the story of the residents of this street during the siege, it tells how prior to the war people intermarried and that everyone celebrated everyone else’s holidays along with them. We visited the public cemetery in Sarajevo where Muslims, Catholics and Orthodox are all buried together, literally on top of each other. There is a story from during the siege of a young couple known as the “Romeo and Juliet of Sarajevo”. She was Bosnian Muslim and he was Serbian Orthodox Christian. He stayed in Sarajevo with her at the beginning of the siege and then they tried to leave to go to his family. They were shot, despite being promised safe passage – no one knows by who and both sides blame the other – and they are buried together in the same grave. It seems to me that in a city that is half Hapsburg Austrian buildings and half Ottoman Muslim buildings and where a Muslim and an Orthodox Christian can be buried in the same grave, unity and coexistence are clearly possible. But how when the very system upon which a just and unified society is built – the education of the youth – is unable to create the foundation for that existence?

It is my hope to be able to take part in helping the teachers of Bosnia create curriculum that will allow them to, as my Bosniak friend Asmir put it “Teach their history even if it makes them cry.” Teaching my own students to try to create a more just future is one thing, but participating in helping these teachers to educate the children of an entire country in a way that will move them towards a more just future would be amazing. I was fortunate to meet a woman at the USHMM who volunteers with a group that is working in Rwanda towards this same goal. She mentioned that the group is hoping to expand their work to Bosnia. I hope to be there with them – working to assure that 1941 or ’91 does not repeat – not for Jews, not for Bosnians, not for Serbs – not for anyone.

Leaving a Piece of My Heart in Sarajevo

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(This was written on 17 July,  2014 as I was leaving)

As the plane rises above Sarajevo, I think about all I have seen in this most fascinating of cities.  From the mix of building styles and materials,  to the mix of buildings old and new,  to the mix of women in hijab and dresses to those barely covered,  churches, mosques and even two synagogues – Sarajevo seems like a place where differences don’t matter. It looks like a place where East and West have met and agreed to get along.  When one looks closer and sees the bullet holes and bomb scars on walls, the decaying facades of formerly grand buildings, and the many residents similarly faded and scarred, the truth becomes clearer. While harmony may be the first impression, and is the goal of all who I met here, it has not been the reality.

 

I have to admit I am a bit in love with Sarajevo. This faded beauty of a city located in the valley of the Miljacka River has won my heart.  The people are funny and welcoming, the food delicious and, for an American, quite cheap. Gelato is .70 a scoop! It may not be Scotch flavored from Aldo’s, but it is good and cheap. Jacob Finci, a prominent member of the Jewish community is, despite all he has experienced,  witty and full of positive energy. Eliezer Papo, our scholar in residence, was hysterical and full of sexual inuendos. His knowledge of the Jews of Sarajevo, and Sepharad in general, was so helpful.  Eliezer and I discovered a common love of Russian literature and similar standards for judging all writing against Dostoevsky. All of the teachers I met from the former Yugoslavia,  whether Serb, Croat or Bosniak, were comitted to a future where their students will build a better future for their countries and for the whole area of the Western Balkans.

 

Yesterday I walked the length of Logavina Street, an ordinary road made famous in a book of the same name. I felt like I had walked it before and that I knew the people there. Seeing familiar names on the plaques, commemorating those who died during the seige,  outside the school near the top made me recall the stories of their lives and deaths. The cemetery with so many graves with the same year of death – 1993 being most common, was overwhelmingly sad. The mixture of new homes with old and war scarred buildings forced me to think about what the ordinary residents of this street endured for three years. So many reminders, and not in some country overseas that I might never visit, but on their homes, at the top of their street, around each corner. This makes the work of teaching young people to love, not hate, so much harder. Or does it make it easier? Are the lessons more easily remembered when the evidence of the high cost of ignoring them is right there, every day? Only time will tell. I hope to be able to come back and see for myself. I wish only peace for this lovely city that has stolen a little piece of my heart.