A few months ago I watched a documentary about the 14th Dalai Lama with my middle school students. The interviewer asked his Holiness if he hated the Chinese people for the oppression they put the Tibetan people through. As the spiritual and political leader of Tibet, the Dalai Lama gave a response that awed me. In summary, he said that he does not hate the Chinese because they teach him more about life. He learns from them and is thankful for that. After watching the documentary, my students discussed their reactions. A student, whom I consider to be years beyond her age and in many ways more wise at age 12 than most adults, said “Kari, I want to marry the Dalai Lama. (Giggles) I mean, I want to meet someone who is that compassionate and so filled with love.”
Tibetan Buddhists believe that the Dalai Lama is the reincarnation of the Buddha of Compassion. Thus, according to Buddhist belief, he is innately born into a being that exemplifies the highest level of compassion. Not taking anything away from the Dalai Lama, but it is understandable that he would be able to rise above hatred more gracefully and courageously than most human beings. Therefore, when I met Regina Hirsch, Auschwitz Holocaust survivor, and she said, “I have no hate in me,” I marveled at her capacity to rid her life of hate’s venom; it is not often one meets a human spirit that has literally seen hell on earth and lives to say that it taught her a lesson about humanity.
The topic of last week’s class was the Holocaust and Jews today. Rabbi Gotlieb invited Regina Hirsch to speak to us and tell her survivor story. Regina is a small woman in her 80s. She has that grandma look to her, but she stands tall and when she speaks, she speaks with conviction. She was from Poland and spoke about the incredible series of miracles that occurred in her life during the Holocaust. I would not do justice or give honor to her stories by trying to capture her words and what she went through in this blog. But each of the stories she told left me with my jaw dropping to the floor and wondering how in the world she could have survived? Regina said that she truly believed that if God wants us to survive incredibly difficult circumstances, God will make miracles happen. She said there were many times when she just had to put her faith in God. And that when there is no sign of hope, that is when you must look for signs from God.
One of my classmates commented and said, “You don’t seem to have hatred in you.” Regina agreed that she does not carry hate. She lost her mother, father, and 5 of her siblings in the Holocaust, but she does not hate. She explained that we are humans and we must act humanely towards one another. She emphasized that hating Hitler or the German soldiers would just perpetuate evil and to ensure that something like the Holocaust never happens again, she believes that humans must act from love. When Regina responded to my classmate with this answer, I immediately thought about the 14th Dalai Lama documentary. I thought about the great capacity this woman has for compassion, but without the obligation of being a spiritual leader.
She looked at our class and said that she was not the only survivor in the room, but that all Jewish people are survivors. I immediately started thinking about ways in which I was a survivor. I do not have a history of family members who perished in the Holocaust or years of feeling different from my friends because of my beliefs or family traditions. But I have survived the loss of a father and a step-father. I have endured labor without the support of a significant other. I continue to teach despite my tumultuous experiences in struggling New York City school districts. These are in no way comparable to Regina’s hardships and her triumphs as a survivor. But when Regina said that the Jewish people are survivors, I was drawn to considering my own survival experiences as a way to define my identity into a culture of people who have endured.
During the entire lecture I had that feeling like I was on the verge of crying. That feeling where there is a ball of tension in your throat and one sudden move will send tears pouring and let out embarrassing sobbing sounds. I waited until class was over and I was in the privacy of my car to let it go. I cried because Regina’s story was so powerful. I cried because I am not sure if I will ever be able to be that compassionate. I cried because I know my children will most likely never be able to sit in a room and meet a Holocaust survivor. I cried because I felt ridiculous for ever complaining about an insignificant issue…for complaining about anything when I have such a beautiful life. I cried for humanity and for the future – not only sad tears, but tears of hope.
Beautiful Kari.
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