Tolerance (I Don’t Like That Word) Education?

I’ve been told that there are about a quarter of a million words in the English language. Most of us know (or at least could guess correctly) a large number of them.

Given that stunning mathematical fact, why are we so stuck when it comes to describing how well we accept, respect, and welcome people – especially people who are noticeably different than us? We shrug and say “tolerate” and quickly add “not that I particularly like that word….”

And we shouldn’t like it. My handy-dandy default Google dictionary says:

TOLERATE (verb) Allow the existence, occurrence, or practice of something that one does not necessarily like or agree with without interference.

Accept or endure someone or something unpleasant or disliked with forbearance.

Of course, there are some other ways to use the word that aren’t quite so hostile. Merriam-Webster assures us that it can also mean “to recognize and respect the rights, beliefs, or practices of others”. That’s what we mean to say, but somehow the word—even when we mean it in the spirit of generosity and love – comes out sounding like the I’m-enduring-something-I-don’t-like definition.

If you’re an engineer, it has a very specific meaning: it’s how different something can be without causing a problem. As long as everything is within tolerance (not too hot or too cold, not too big or too little, not too wet or too dry) things will turn out OK.  Unfortunately, that’s about the depth of “tolerance” in many situations. I’ll let you be a little different, but don’t go overboard, OK?

My pharmacist uses the word tolerance to talk about how I need larger doses of something to get the same effect. Meaning, perhaps, that if I am uncomfortable with you because of what you eat/wear/worship, over time it will take more differences to make me uncomfortable. Interesting theory…maybe that’s what tolerance should strive for. Pardon me if this doesn’t sound at all polite, but if you just hang around I’ll get used to you little by little. Eventually I might become completely immune to the differences and they won’t matter.

On the other hand, the best definition I’ve heard, from our resource teacher Mitchell Bloomer, is that the point of “tolerance education” is to learn to tolerate our own discomfort.  Once we acknowledge our uneasiness, and recognize where those feelings originate, we can be better able to deal with others who are not like us. I’m hoping that sometime that’s the first definition in my Google dictionary.

In the meantime, we’re using words that almost work. We have a Dinner of Tribute coming up on April 25. The theme is RESPECT, our way of talking about the underpinnings of responsible, loving behavior toward others.  That gets us about three-quarters the way around the issue, but we need to do better.

Therefore, I am announcing a private contest. What word can we use instead of tolerance? Write me a quick essay. I might not even judge them. No prizes except a thank-you note. Email me you thoughts or post them here. I’m anxious to hear what you suggest.

Liberty, Justice and Anti-Semitism Don’t Mix

by James Coffin,  Executive Director of the Interfaith Council of Central Florida.

Sixty miles west of Orlando is a beautiful, tree-shaded cemetery. It’s the final resting place of thousands of patriots — men and women who have served in the U.S. military. Their choice of burial grounds wasn’t accidental. They wanted family and friends to know what an honor it had been to serve their country.

The Florida National Cemetery at Bushnell is hallowed ground. The people buried there understood duty, honor, commitment. They put others ahead of self. Simply walking past those silent gravestones should evoke reverence and gratitude.

But, as recent news reports reveal, there are some who fail to understand that the United States is all about e pluribus unum. Out of many, one. Out of diversity, unity. One nation, under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.

But where’s the unity, the liberty, the justice when bigots invade such sacred space and desecrate the gravestones of true patriots simply because those memorials bear a star of David rather than a cross? Are patriot Jews, or patriot Muslims, or patriot atheists any less deserving of our individual and collective gratitude than patriot Christians?

Certainly, those who would engage in such deliberate acts of hate deserve to be prosecuted. But punishment and the fear evoked by it aren’t the solution. Understanding is.

It may well be the work of misguided youth. Such destructive behavior is deplorable. And, if it was youth, something even more deplorable is at work here.

Somewhere — at home, in the public square or (I hate to even suggest it) in some house of worship — the perpetrators were given to believe that Jews are less worthy than Christians.

Mere punishment —though appropriate — won’t fix the underlying problem. The solution involves education. It’s a task of the home. Of the school. Of the media. Of the community. And certainly of our houses of worship, whatever our faith tradition.

I like the words of a public-service announcement drafted recently by the Interfaith Council of Central Florida: “We aren’t first and foremost Anglo or African-American, Hispanic or Asian … Catholic or Protestant, Sunni or Shiite, Buddhist or Hindu, Jewish or Sikh. These are all secondary to the universal brotherhood and sisterhood of all humankind. Only as we appreciate our oneness as humans will the walls of suspicion, alienation and bigotry give way, allowing us to have unity in the midst of our diversity.”

That’s what needs to be understood.

Helen Greenspun: A True Educator

Helen Greenspun, a local Survivor who has made it her life’s work to share her story with thousands of students each year, has recently announced her retirement from speaking. To honor her, one of the many teachers who have been touched by her story has written this reflection about Helen’s impact in our community.

As an 85 year-old Holocaust survivor, Helen Garfinkle Greenspun has an amazing story tell, and tell it she has.  This remarkably strong woman survived camps and death marches along with some of her siblings, but lost her two younger siblings and parents when they were sent to Treblinka. She has managed somehow to find the strength to retell her tale for the benefit of others.

It is in this capacity that I first met her. She graciously rode for over an hour and a half each way to come and speak to the eighth grade students at the middle school at which I teach. When I heard of her and made contact to request the visit, I imagined having to come up with creative ways to raise money for her presentation, but she refused to take any honorarium. Instead, my students and I donated the money we had raised to the Holocaust Center in Maitland where she has actively participated for many years.

Debbie Callahan and Helen Greenspun. Helen is holding a copy of the book, Sara's Children, written about her family's Holocaust experiences.

Until her recently-announced retirement, Helen shared her story to teach future generations about the atrocities of the Holocaust. Upon first hearing it, I immediately formed a special bond with her, and it’s been an honor to get to know this very special lady. As a result of meeting Helen, I have decided to make the teaching of Holocaust studies a very large part of my future in education. I have come to realize that one of her biggest fears is that people will begin to believe that this tragic event never happened and she wants to make sure that history never has the chance to repeat itself. Although I know that each speech was emotionally difficult and draining for her, I have never heard her complain.

Should anyone doubt that Helen has indeed made a strong impact on children, one need only look at their responses. Their faces show sympathy, caring, and respect for a woman who has survived hardships that they can barely understand. Their thank-you cards and letters express their admiration, and I know in the case of my own students, their poor spelling and sometimes mangled grammar could not disguise their heartfelt gratitude. Their reactions to Helen’s visit amazed me. For example, one student warned me at the beginning of our Holocaust unit that he did not really believe that it ever happened, or at the very least, the Holocaust had been blown out of proportion. He went on to explain that a relative of his is a famous Holocaust denier. By the time our unit ended, he was a believer, the evidence of which can be seen in a photo of him hugging Helen after her speech.

Another embrace was given by a student who made little effort all year and was failing miserably. His interest was piqued as our Holocaust unit began, and he began to write and quite well. By the time Helen visited, he was so involved that he waited for everyone to leave the auditorium, after the dismissal bell had rung, and asked for permission to meet her. When this big bear of a young man wrapped his arms around Helen none of the educators present could hold back tears. After hearing of Helen’s struggles, he changed his attitude and study habits, passed the eighth grade, and is now in high school.

Those are just two of the stories of her effect on students. She spoke to 430 that one day. I cannot fathom how many others she has taught and impacted over the years. I will forever be grateful for the selfless service she has given in her lifetime, because I truly believe that there is not a single person who has ever heard her speak and walked away unchanged. Those of us who have heard her speak, and especially those who have had the opportunity to get to know her, realize that Helen Garfinkle Greenspun has in fact accomplished exactly what she intended. She has brought history to life in a way that makes it impossible for anyone to ever disbelieve the reality of the Holocaust, and she has made it impossible for anyone to forget. I may be a trained teacher, but on my best day, I can never accomplish what Helen has. Helen is a true educator on a far greater scale, and her lessons have the ability to change future generations.

Debbie Callahan

Middle school teacher/ adjunct college instructor

Ed.D. student completing dissertation

BESA: Not everyone believes in ‘love thy neighbor’

The Holocaust Center recently hosted a reception marking the opening of BESA: A Code of Honor. The exhibit, at the Center until the end of March, consists of photographs and text collected by photographer Norman Gershman that tell the remarkable story of the Albanian people – the majority of whom are Muslim – who rescued their entire Jewish population during the Holocaust.

In many ways the event was a powerful statement of unity among all our religions. The reception was co-sponsored by the Islamic Society of Central Florida. It opened with a film, produced by Gershman’s Eye Contact Foundation, that broadened and enriched the story of his quest. Afterward, Imam Muhammad Musri spoke about Islam’s equivalent to the Jewish and Christian directives to be your brother’s keeper.  The Imam reminded attendees that it is our responsibility, no matter what the faith, to help others.

The Imam came directly from another event, a ribbon-cutting for the construction of the new Harmony House, and he did not come alone. His companions at the event accompanied him to lend their voices and hearts to the Center’s efforts. Reverend Bryan Fulwider spoke briefly about local interfaith efforts, and he was followed by Rabbi Steven Engel, the third of the local ‘Three Wise Men’ who have worked together for several years to expand the interfaith dialogue in our community. Their messages were sincere and hopeful, a heartwarming call to peaceful coexistence.

The entire event, unfortunately, was not a complete lovefest. As our publicity about the reception spread, we began to get emails and phone calls that were extremely disheartening.

Almost anyone with eyes and ears could guess the general idea of these messages. “Terrorist.” “Hamas.” “Get your head out of the sand!” “I am outraged….” “Jihadist.” “Playing into their hands…”

Most, if not all, the fuss arises from an email send by an anti-Islamist Florida group that wrote (presumably to someone’s entire anti-Muslim email list): Can you tell all your friends and see if they get fired up and appeal to the HMREC to get Musri disinvited from this event?  Maitland Holocaust Memorial Education Center:  http://www.holocaustedu.org/  Phone 407-628-0555 and express your concerns.

And some did, indeed, get fired up enough to send ridiculous emails and engage in annoying phone calls. It’s not clear why they believed that their bullying would be successful, but it did have an effect… just not the one that they had hoped to get.

Is this truly the world we want to live in, where people from as far away as Indiana write to us and ask that a speaker be banned?  How troubled should we be that heavily-edited, heavy-handed YouTube links become enough proof to try and convict a whole group of people?

We certainly hope that’s not the world we’ve helped create, but evidently hope is not enough.

These hateful messages made it clear that each of us needs to redouble our efforts toward maintaining interfaith dialogue. We need to be more responsible for setting the records straight, for standing up for victims of contempt, and for making sure that hate has no room to grow.

BESA Exhibit tells remarkable story

Remodeling issues have caused a slight delay in the opening of our new exhibit, BESA: A Code of Honor. (We expect to have it ready by January 24^th.)  It’s hard to be patient, waiting for it to be open to the public, because it’s an exhibit that speaks to the heart of many of the Holocaust Center’s programs.

Besa provides an unexpected glimpse into the lives of a people whose faith requires them to act unselfishly on behalf of others. The word “besa” applies to an Albanian interpretation of the Koran, and is generally translated as “faith” or sometimes “to keep the promise.”  It is so deeply ingrained in the Muslim Albanian culture that failure to act honorably toward others is a source of shame and disgrace.

As a result of this single-minded belief in acting in the best interest of others, Albania is perhaps the only nation where religious prejudice does not exist and where compassion toward others is the nation’s highest ethical code.

Besa also means taking care of those in need and being hospitable. During World War II, Albanians, 70% of whom are Muslim, saved over 2,000 Jews from Nazi persecution. Albanians refused to cooperate with Nazis going door to door looking for people to round up. They provided their Jewish guests with food, shelter and clothing; more important, they provided safety and a great sense of belonging.

Albania, the only European country with a Muslim majority, succeeded in the place where other European nations failed. Almost all Jews living within Albanian borders during the German occupation, those of Albanian origin and refugees alike, were saved.

It’s hard to believe that such a remarkable story is almost completely overlooked in history books. Fortunately an American photographer, Norman Gershman, sought out, photographed, and collected these powerful and moving stories of heroism. The result of this five-year-long project became a book, Besa: Muslims Who Saved Jews in World War II. The book, and this exhibit based on his work, reveals the extraordinary choices of ordinary people acting within their true Muslim faith.

Gershman’s photographs – mostly faces of the elderly Albanians who were part of families known to aid Jews during the war – provide an impression of normalcy to their astonishing history. Except for the clear calm and pride, in most of the portraits they could be anyone’s grandfather, any aging aunt.

It is the captions that tell how adherence to besa sets these men and women apart.

 “My father said that the Germans would have to kill his family before he would have them kill our Jewish guests.” Aishe Kadiu

“All of us villagers were Muslims.  We were sheltering God’s children under our Besa.” Lime Balla

In story after story, they speak the same truth. Their faith, and the compassion it instilled, left no room for doubt. They must, no matter what the peril and what the cost, do the right thing.

Join Our Book Club

The Holocaust Center is starting a book club and you’re invited!

Why?

Stories help us understand our world, and in some cases, the world as it existed before we did.

As Dr. Susan Bach, facilitator of the book club puts it: “Learning about diverse experiences and perceptions of the war [WWII] from both fiction and non-fiction sources fascinates me because each new idea gives me an additional sliver of understanding about what seems beyond understanding.”

Will all the books be about the Holocaust?

Not necessarily. While the first two titles are historical fiction works set in the Holocaust/WWII Era, future titles can be suggested by book club members. The club will consider written works that pertain to lessons of the Holocaust that are relevant to our society, things like: good citizenship, prejudice, diversity, religious freedoms, and human rights.

What will you get out of it?

Like other book clubs, this is a way for you to read books that you otherwise might not select, and to be part of a connected community discussing their narratives and themes. As a unique component of our book club we’ll also reflect on how the themes are present today – in your memories, your everyday life and in current events.

This will be an excellent opportunity to meet new people, share your perspectives and learn from other points of view.

“To read without reflecting is like eating without digesting.”

~Philosopher Edmund Burke

What do you need to do?

We hope you’ll join us on Sunday, Jan. 15, at 2 p.m. for our first book club meeting. We’ll be discussing the popular Sarah’s Key – a historical fiction novel and the basis for the newly-released film of the same name. While there is no cost to participate, we do ask that you RSVP to the Holocaust Center – info@holocaustedu.org or call (407) 628-0555.

Click here for more information about our book club meetings.

Behind the Scenes: New American Home

Local residents have had a chance to watch the ground-up creation of a unique Winter Park residence, and soon they will have an opportunity to see the inside as well. The New American Home for 2012, built by Phil Kean Designs, is now completed and ready for visitors. An open house has been scheduled as a fundraiser to support the Holocaust Memorial Resource and Education Center’s “Upstander: Stand Up to Bullying” initiative and a limited number of reservations are still available.

The New American Home, now in its 29th year, is constructed annually in conjunction with the NAHB International Builders’ Show to showcase innovative building technologies and the latest building products. As NAHB’s official show home, it displays design trends, construction techniques, and materials that the building industry can use in new or remodeled homes.

Kean’s TNAH has already received a number of awards and distinctions, including the LEED Platinum certification and the highest level of efficiency from the National Green Building Standards. Its ecologically friendly plan, including solar panels and a car charging station, translates into real savings in energy. Brad Grosberg, Principal at Phil Kean Designs, says they expect energy bills of perhaps $170 a month for the 4,100 square foot home in spite of its high-end control systems and custom technology.

“We wanted a building that was innovative, one that emphasizes energy efficiency and attention to architectural detail in a smaller footprint. The New American Home design is very different from year to year, and it can influence what future buyers and builders might consider. “

Energy efficiency is just one of the distinctive features of the design. Grosberg is also proud to point out the residential art gallery within the home. For that, he gives credit to a friend, Dr. Robert Feldman, who inspired that theme of the house.

“He’s a serious art collector, and he’s talked about wanting a home that included an art gallery. Since this house is near a large condominium complex, we needed a buffer of sorts. That created an opportunity to think about best use for a solid wall, and a private gallery is a perfect solution. In fact, we’ve been very fortunate to have the loan of world-class art for us to display in the house for the next six months. It’s just stunning.”

For Grosberg and for architect/builder Phil Kean, pride in the home is more than just being pleased at a job well done. They intend to live in the house after it has served as a model. According to Grosberg, part of that decision was a practical one: it’s an easy way to show clients how their eco-friendly designs work in a real home. But he admits that the house has very special appeal.

“It’s probably not a house we would have if we weren’t builders. It really has everything. It has great technology. It has a gym. It’s just a couple of blocks from Park Avenue where we love to spend time. Sometimes we talk about what the magic number might be if someone came to the door and wanted to buy it. Right now, I can’t imagine what that price would be.”

The home officially opens for tours with builders attending the NAHB show February 8-11, and it will be open to the public as part of the Orlando Parade of Homes in April 2012. The December 7 preview to support the UpStander anti-bullying program is an unusual move for The New American Home.

“We offered the home tour because we think bullying is a cause that deserves a great deal of attention,” Grosberg says. “We want to make it easier for the next generation. This is one way we can help.”

The Holocaust Center is requesting donations of $50 to view the home, with a VIP tour at $100. Reservations are required, and can be made by calling the Center at 407-628-0555 or through its website www.holocaustedu.org.

Europe Displaced

The Holocaust Center is now hosting the exhibit of Maxine Rude’s photographs titled Displaced Europe 1945-46. Rude was a young photographer working for the United States Army and then for the United Nations Relief and Rehabilitation Administration , capturing the ordinary moments of people who were struggling to reestablish a normal life. There are photos of little children receiving new shoes, women chatting as they go about their chores, and dignitaries – lots of dignitaries – who wanted to be seen as part of this humanitarian effort.

In many ways they are a striking contrast to news photos, taken just months before, by photographers working for the U.S. army and the U.N. The images from the liberation of camps are familiar: gaunt men in ill-fitting striped clothing staring at the camera through sunken eyes; piles of bones and bodies and shoes; soldiers reacting with horror at the sights and smells they found.

It seems almost impossible to believe that the victims of a war that Rude captured on film could find peace so easily after six years of death and destruction. In fact, recovery was not so rapid and so simple. Many of the photographs in this collection are gentle propaganda, created to celebrate the U.N.’s careful planning and prompt support.  What few of them show is the real aftermath of war: the grieving over lost families, the sense of hopelessness that comes from having no home to return to, and the knowledge that the world will never feel completely safe again.

The ending of the Holocaust is too often defined by the headline events; it is far too easy to slide past the months and years when the consequences of war still lingered. In a world where genocide has continued in varied forms in places like Cambodia, Bosnia, Rwanda, Burundi, Kosovo and East Timor, it is important to remember the aftermath of the wounded, the homeless and the bereaved.

Standing before even the sweetest of Maxine Rude’s works – photos of small children as they enjoy a carefree atmosphere where food, shelter and attention are plentiful – we must recognize the ugliness that intolerance created.  We have to come to terms with how our apathy and unwillingness to calculate the human cost of battle makes the world an unsafe place, and how we must continue to challenge intolerance whenever and wherever we find it.

Florida’s Holocaust Teacher of the Year

Local Social Studies teacher, Brenda Butler Savage, was recently designated as Florida’s Holocaust Teacher of the Year.  She was nominated for the award by Mitch Bloomer, Resource Teacher at the Holocaust Memorial Resource and Education Center on behalf of the Holocaust Center.

Mitch Bloomer with Florida’s Holocaust Teacher of the Year, Ms. Brenda Butler Savage

In her classes at La Amistad Learning Academy, a school for students with special needs, she uses a Holocaust curriculum she created that emphasizes developing compassion and personal responsibility.

During the Holocaust Memorial Resource and Education Center’s Teacher’s Institute two years ago, she led a session on how she engaged her students in action against genocide. She introduced her students to the current crisis in Darfur. As they became aware of lack of an effective world response, students created a project that combined raising funds for humanitarian aid with a highly visible outreach campaign. The success with this project is featured in the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum’s Community in Action webpage.

This award is made annually by the Florida Council for Social Studies, recognizing the dedication of teachers who make a difference by providing accurate, effective and engaging Holocaust education.

Congratulations, Brenda!  This award is well deserved.

Kristallnacht: Why We Remember

On November 6th the Holocaust Center is presenting a community program commemorating Kristallnacht, “the night of broken glass”. Why – among all the days of gas chambers and bombings and trains and trauma – do we choose to recall the night of November 9-10, 1938?

It was not an isolated, unexpected event. Books had been burned by the Nazis in 1933 as an attempt to discourage the voices of dissidence, and by then Jewish shops had long been the subject of massive boycotts. The Nuremberg Laws were passed in 1935, depriving Jewish people of their basic rights of citizenship and pushing them to the fringes of Germany’s social, political, and economic life. As the months and years of Nazi power went by, there were progressively worrisome signs that Jews were not only unwelcome in the communities where they had lived for generations, but they faced an increasingly uncertain future.

The incident that sparked Kristallnacht seems so trivial. A teenaged boy discovered that his family had been expelled from Germany without warning and were trapped in a ‘no man’s land’ on the German-Polish border. He went to the German Embassy in Paris seeking answers, revenge, justice, something. In the end, he fatally shot a minor embassy official. A crime, no doubt, a tragic impulse by a young man whose anger and frustration had reached a point beyond control.

No matter how insignificant, that act was seized upon as a “reason” to unleash horrifying destruction on Jewish families, homes, and communities. All over Germany and Austria Jewish shops and department stores had their windows smashed and contents destroyed. Synagogues were especially targeted for vandalism, including desecration of sacred Torah scrolls. Hundreds of synagogues were systematically burned while local fire departments stood by or simply prevented the fire from spreading to surrounding buildings. In bursts of deadly violence 7,500 businesses were destroyed, 267 synagogues burned (with 177 totally destroyed), 91 Jews were killed, and an estimated 25,000 Jewish men were rounded up and brutalized.

The destruction, although almost unimaginable, is not the most significant reason we must remember Kristallnacht. What we need to remember is that the world saw it happen, knew that this brutality was likely to continue, and the world did nothing to stop it. The reaction outside Germany to Kristallnacht, of course, was shock and outrage. There was a storm of negative publicity in newspapers and among radio commentators. Many nations chose to isolate Hitler’s Germany from other “civilized” nations and weaken any pro-Nazi sentiments in those countries. Nations like the United States shut down embassies and called their ambassador home.

What we need to remember, on this day and on every day, is that we should have done more. We enabled the Third Reich to continue. We allowed the likes of Father Coughlin and the American Eugenics Society and Cordell Hull to distract us from doing what had to be done. The U.S., along with thirty other members of the League of Nations, met in early 1938 to discuss how to help Jews escape Hitler’s tyranny. No nation would take them. End of discussion.

At the Holocaust Center we say that we are remembering the past to protect the future. Kristallnacht is the day of all the days in history we must remember most clearly. This is the day when the greatest crime against humanity was so clear, so compelling, that no one could escape its significance. And this is the day, more than any other day, we must think about when we say Never Again.