Our experiences today made me think about the art of being a historian, but even more importantly, it made me think about the art of being an extraordinary human.
We are traveling through Poland with knowledgeable tour guides and Howard Chandler, a survivor of Auschwitz-Birkenau. Today we visited Birkenau, and Howard led a tour for us. We sat spellbound as he shared his story of being separated from his family, and employed the full value of his wits and charms in order to stay alive. It took him hours to tell his story, and it was distressing in so many ways. The story is Howard’s to tell, so I won’t rehash it here. But I’ll say this: When I thought that I could not bear to hear any more of the torment, Howard shared that his only regret about his time in the Nazi camps was that he had not done enough to help others. I felt, in some measurably way, better after he disclosed that. Among the tales of terror are stories of resilience and hope, and throughout, Howard didn’t lose his sense that we are obligated to serve one another. I’ll likely never face circumstances like Howard’s, but if I do, I’d operate with his model in mind. In times of darkness, it is the lighter sides of our humanity that redeem us.
Throughout this trip, I’ve been thinking about the craft of being a historian. As we toured Auschwitz, Howard and his daughter Heddy went to the Auschwitz Records Center and asked for Howard’s record. While he always knew that he had arrived in summer, he didn’t know the exact date until today. He had been telling his story without that specific detail. And the missing detail didn’t matter that much; the spirit of Howard’s story was in tact. I thought of history again when we visited Treblinka, a Nazi death camp, earlier this week. The Nazis obliterated their evidence there as the Soviet Army approached. A terrible place was leveled, erasing the evidence that proved the allegations of Nazi crimes. Being a historian–and a history teacher– means that we must accept that the record will always be incomplete, and that thoughtful study will engender more questions than it answers.
– Kate Lukaszewicz