Life After The March: Finding The Silver Lining By Miriam Spitz Kahan

My journey began 16 years ago. I was one of thousands who took part in The March of The Living in Poland. I’m still haunted by the memories of what I witnessed. On the day we walked from Auschwitz to Birkenau, in the footsteps of those who were led to their deaths, I remember seeing the numerous Israeli Flags lining the streets, being held in the hands of 5,000 Jews from all over the world and it sparked a flame in my heart. A flag that symbolizes the dream of so many of the millions who perished was there in Poland, waving proudly against the backdrop of the camps where they were murdered, a flag that continues to represent the that dream fulfilled. As with all March of the Living Alumni, while my time in Poland has stayed with me forever, it raised many questions. Reviewing the daily journal that I have kept all these years, I cannot help but think back to those days in Poland. These are some excerpts from the journal: On the plane home: As I sat on the plane returning home, I tried to wrap my mind around the reality that awaited me. How am I going to handle being home? How will I be able to share my experience with people who have no idea of what I’ve seen? It seemed as if my faith and spirit have disappeared in the wake of the horrors that remain with me. All that I know has been turned upside-down. Everyone else is happy to be home. Not me. I don’t know where I belong. What am I to do? I can’t come to terms with what I saw, with how I feel. After 1 month:It is hard for me to honestly describe my transition. But I’m starting to feel detached from my memories, from those souls who perished. My feelings of loss and despair have started to fade. I don’t allow my memories to haunt my every thought, my every move. I do wish that they would. I feel like a sell-out because I’m not remembering every minute, every second those who perished. I wish that I could force myself to mourn openly. I remember touching the walls of the gas chamber at Auschwitz. I look at the stone I took from the ground at Auschwitz and I try to smash it between my fingers, but it is too strong, like the Nazis – completely indestructible. How did the survivors cope with survival? With a return to a world that would never understand what they endured, what they witnessed, and the pain they live with having lost everything and everyone they loved? These questions, and so many more, were just waiting to be answered. But there was a silver lining to the despair I was feeling. I knew that I would be heading back to Israel that summer. I was able to return to the one home where Jews are safe to be Jewish, unlike those who perished in the Holocaust. I fulfilled the old dream, the 2,000 year old dream. “The old dream of a return to a land where we could belong, where we could live free from the hatred and persecution that plagued our existence in Europe...For the Jews who perished, it is in their memory that we must cherish and protect our one and only Jewish State," said Dr. Elana Heideman Executive Director of The Israel Forever Foundation and Holocaust Educator. It was hard for me to comprehend this notion after visiting Israel from Poland as my mind was still closed to the hope, the happiness, the reality of Israel. That summer, I was able to break down the stone wall around my heart and let in the beauty, the hope and the reality of Israel. Tears for all the six million fell as I touched the Kotel (The Western Wall) and left a message asking all the questions needing answers. As I look back on my experience with The March of The Living, I wished there was a global community such as Virtual Citizen’s of Israel™ for all March of The Living alumni that I could have spoken to, listened to, shared my thoughts, my loneliness. Today I am proud to be a part of an organization that is reaching out to those who participated on The March of The Living, whether it was this year, 16 or 25 years ago. Now you can feel a sense of belonging with others who shared your experience and who long for a way to actualize the commitment to the memory of those who perished. Now, you can declare your pride and become a March of The Living Virtual Citizen of Israel™ and know that, together, we carry on a legacy the victims and survivors of the Holocaust would be proud of. Join us so that you too, can remember and reflect what these memories mean for those who did survive, and for us, the next generation who will carry on their legacy as their witness to the witness.

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From Darkness into Light: The Promise of Israel By Orli Kessel, 2013

By Orli Kessel  Arriving at the airport in Warsaw and preparing to board our El Al flight to Tel Aviv, I felt a sense of urgency. My desire to leave Poland and arrive home in Israel had reached a fever pitch. As we waited in line to clear security, all I could picture was boarding the flight and the wheels of the plane lifting off Polish ground. Finally, I was leaving – escaping the grey skies and damp, gnawing cold which had served as a fitting pathetic-fallacy for the emotional landscape we had travelled over the course of our six days spent in Poland. As I took my seat on the plane, I closed my eyes. It had been a week of excruciatingly long days filled with an overwhelming amount of information rife with emotional intensity -- I was exhausted. My eyes had been shut for less than a minute when the singing began. Startled, I turned around and found roughly 150 high-school age March of the Living participants from various cities and countries, arms around each other, singing ‘Oseh Shalom’ with what can only be described as joyful abandon. In that moment, the sleepless nights dissolved and without a moment’s pause, my fellow Young Adult MOTL participants and I joined in the song. Looking around, I noticed flight staff unable to hold back smiles as they half-heartedly encouraged us to sit down so that we could take off.  Ten minutes went by before we were all back in our seats and the fasten seatbelt light went on for takeoff. By Ron Shoshani Landing in Israel a few short hours later, again my heart swelled. Our group moved quickly through the empty arrival gate and I slipped outside into the arrivals parking lot of Ben Gurion Airport. The electric doors slid open and a rush of warm, humid air filled my lungs. I breathed in Israel, I was home. I sank down on a bench outside and could barely contain my euphoria. I know it’s not unusual to remember significant departures and arrivals. However, the reason these two moments stayed with me, and seem to have become so engrained in my consciousness, has less to do with the physical shifts that occurred and more to do with the emotional impact of the transition. Practically speaking, the act of leaving Poland and arriving in Israel can be understood from a purely geographical perspective. However, the mileage, climate and time zone have little real baring on the magnitude of the shift that occurred when I transitioned from one country to the other. It was expressed in varying ways many times during the March of the Living that the structure of this experience was intended to move us from “darkness into light”. I can’t imagine a more apt way of describing how it felt to transition from the ashes of Warsaw and Krakow and arrive in Israel to the shores of Tel Aviv and Haifa. To my eyes, fresh from the gas chambers of Auschwitz and the mass graves of the Lupachowa Forest, Jerusalem’s cobble stone streets had never looked more paved in gold or felt more hallowed. Now, home in Toronto, the time I spent in Israel after Poland has taken on new meaning. At the time, the transition felt like the only conceivable antidote to an emotional wound that had left me ravaged after 6 days spent entrenched in the atrocities of the Shoah. However, nearly a month out from the experience, I have come to see my time in Israel not only as the remedy that soothed me – but, more importantly, as a touchstone that I carry with me, regardless of where I am in the world. Like my ancestors before me wandering the Egyptian desert, while I was in Poland, the promise of Israel gave me hope and sustained me. Though I would never presume to speak for the prisoners of the Nazi death camps, I have heard from a number of survivors that even without any idea of what Israel was like; it was this notion of one day reaching the Promised Land that helped them to hold on day after day. Ultimately, what I have taken away from this particular trip is a simple truth; Israel is so much more than simply a place on the map. Among innumerable other things, Israel represents freedom from anti-Semitism, the promise of human dignity for all, hope for a better future and is, I believe, the soul of the Jewish people. Whether I am blessed to be standing in the Old City of Jerusalem or on the busy streets of Toronto, Israel is never far from my heart for I carry her with me wherever I am.

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Transformation in Poland By Raquel Binder, 2013

By Raquel Binder 44 young professionals from across North America began the journey from Toronto to Poland to learn abut the Holocaust through The March of The Living. We were fortunate to have with us Holocaust survivor Pinchas Gutter as we learned about Jewish life before, during, and after the war. I could not have predicted the impact this trip would have on my life. I originally signed up for this trip for personal reasons. My Bubby (Grandmother in Yiddish) on my father's side is a Holocaust survivor who rarely spoke about it. As a Holocaust Educator myself, I felt a responsibility to fill in the gaps of my family story in order to have a more comprehensive understanding of history. In the weeks leading up to the trip, my Bubby did share her story with me and I left for Poland with the mission of saying Kaddish (memorial prayer) for her sisters in Kielce. Coincidentally, my mother, maternal grandmother, and great-aunt were participating on the adult program, and it was very special to be able to share this experience. Upon arrival in Poland, we traveled to Warsaw. The weather plummeted to below zero and we stood outside in the middle of a snowstorm. This was a harsh yet poignant reminder of the conditions our ancestors survived through. Each day consisted of a celebration of Jewish life coupled with a memorial of death, both Jewish and non-Jewish. One day we began in a Tycochin synagogue where we sang, danced, and celebrated our presence. Next, we visited sites of mass graves and Treblinka (a death camp) where we saw the evidence of the murder of the Jews. At each site, we said Kaddish in an attempt to remember and provide an identity to those who perished. Pinchas, a survivor of Majdanek, told us pieces of his story throughout the trip and lead us through Majdanek. Majdanek is truly a place of horror, death, and destruction and yet we were guided by Pinchas with a triumphant smile on his face. As sad, sick and disgusted as I was, I felt proud to be there with Pinchas. His life mission is to educate future generations in order to prevent atrocities from ever happening again. He is living proof that the Nazis did not win. He is proof of survival. What was integral to this trip was sharing the experience with my peers. At night, the group stayed up late and had intense, intellectual conversations about the context of our experiences and what our responsibilities were as the 3rd generation. More importantly, we formed a strong community determined to protect the world around us. A high point of the trip was the March of the Living on April 8, where we marched from Auschwitz to Birkenau in solidarity with 10,000 Jews from around the world. Arm-in-arm, we showed the world that, not only did the Jewish people survive, but we are very much so thriving today. Walking out of Auschwitz, I found myself at the bottom of a path leading out of the camp. This was literally the road to freedom and we were lucky enough to be leaving. On that path, walking in my bubby's footsteps, I felt an undeniable call to action. Her story became my story. Her experience, and the experiences of everyone who suffered, became mine to understand and keep alive. At the end of the path lay the gates to freedom, and the key lay in my knowledge. With this knowledge, I returned home to Toronto unfortunately unable to participate in the Israel portion of the trip. Despite this shorter program, I left Poland with a greater connection to Israel than I’ve ever felt before. Walking through the camps, synagogues, and memorial sites, we were constantly presented with Israeli flags and Magen David stars. In one Warsaw church, I saw a sign in Hebrew saying “welcome to Warsaw, we love Israel.” As I toured the country and came face-to-face with the reality of Jewish struggles, the need and value of Israel became so much more important. We, as Jews, will always have a home in Israel. We will be accepted and welcomed, and this was a goal for which our ancestors fought so hard to accomplish. As young professionals, we are in a unique and vital position to protect the future. We are the last generation to have direct experiences with Holocaust survivors, and the first to have learned about Holocaust history and its impact on the future. Our job is to keep their memories alive, to remember the past in order to protect the future. As long as we live, and tell, then we can ensure that we never forget.  

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Alumni Reflection: Beth Strum, USA, 1994

“I went on the March in 1994 with MetroWest NJ. I made some amazing friends and had amazing experiences. However, I have found it difficult to discuss amongst friends…

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