I attribute Elie Wiesel to developing my interest in studying the Holocaust. My grandparents’ stories gave me the passion to continue my studies, but it was Wiesel, the most famous holocaust survivor, with his book, Night, that exposed me to the true horrors experienced in concentration camps. Although it took Elie over ten years to find the courage to write about his experiences, his 160-page novel is one of the most visual, articulate, passionate and emotional writing by a Holocaust survivor that I have ever read. His grasp of the English-language at speaking engagements and advocacy events, as the original novel was written in Yiddish and translated into English, exuded grace and composure, whilst inspiring audiences to act against injustice. He joins the ranks of my grandparents and parents as one of my character and professional heroes. 

I first read Night in 10th grade English class. Fast forward 5 years, I find myself at Auschwitz II-Birkenau, where this remarkable man was once confined. I joined the Archives Department, and the first survivor story I was to transcribe was an interview with Elie Wiesel in the 1980’s. Here, he remarked that “the opposite of love is not hate, but indifference.” These words continue to inspire me everyday and I intend to dedicate my career to the fight against indifference. 

As the indirect driver of my interest in the Holocaust, it is only fitting that one of the last programs of my tenure at the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum was the Elie Wiesel Memorial Event. With speakers and performers, including Nancy Pelosi and Samantha Powers, the memorial was awe-inspiring and I am grateful to be one of the few able to attend. I even made an appearance in the event photography:

Yeah that blurry face in the background eating as much free, elegant, catered food as possible, is me

Elie Wiesel, the founding chairman of USHMM, intended this museum to be a “living memorial” to all that visit. The institution’s mission is to educate visitors on the Holocaust and the importance it still carries with genocides and mass atrocities continuing to occur around the globe. His message and passions surround this institution, and I cannot help but wonder where this museum would be without his leadership.

I cannot pretend that I had the honor of actually knowing this man; my admiration is based on his presentation of character in the public eye. I am not implying that Wiesel differed in his private life, I am only pointing that my loss of a hero and role model, is slim compared to the loss of a husband, father and grandfather. 

With the end of my sixth month co-op experience coming to a close this week, I continue to be motivated by this voice of a generation. Truthfully, I cannot even begin to process the completion of this co-op; this post in itself has taken weeks to write. I desperately want to find the words that would bring justice to these equally awe-inspiring institutions without overdramatizing history nor under-appreciating my experiences. 

The best way I can quantify my takeaways from this co-op is analyzing the development of my own Holocaust story. When I think about the Holocaust, I see atrocity imagery, power-hungry perpetrators, helpless victims, large statistics and ominous “prisons.” I also see the town of Oswiecim, co-workers in the Research Department, my new friends from all over the world, contemporary academics I interviewed, survivors that shared their stories. I see a Museum dedicated to combatting genocide, that also taught me about the field of marketing. I see Germany and Poland, but also Armenia, Rwanda, Cambodia, Darfur, Burundi and Syria. Beyond that, I see myself and the voices of my generation motivated by the lessons of the Holocaust and the never-ending fight against genocide and mass atrocities. 

One year ago, when this idea was only an idea, I recall my family and friends inquiring about my reasoning for wanting to spend sixth months with such a dark topic. Now, as I stop pinching myself and contemplate the co-op that took the help of so many to create, I face the question of “what next?” What will come out of these positions in terms of my academic and personal paths? Do I continue to study the Holocaust or take a step back and look at atrocity prevention as a potential field? I am unconcerned with my lack of answers to these questions. I cannot worry about where I will be in five or ten years, as I am more concerned where the world will be. What human rights issues will catapult into the public eye? What victimized groups around the globe require the most assistance and how should the international community respond? I am leaving my co-op with these questions.

If there is one thing I learned throughout the past sixth months, it is that history rarely remains historical. In the entrance to Block 5 of the Auschwitz stands a quote from George Santayana that will forever be engrained in my brain from the first time I visited this Museum. These words are applicable to every past and future generation and, with its application, could provide peace to the violence that ceases to end in modern society:

 Those who do not remember the past are condemned to repeat it.