Relieved to enter the air conditioned museum on a humid August day, we walked through security, regular occurrence after perusing the multitude of other museums on the National Mall that day. Though I previously visited the Holocaust Museum on the Dake Washington DC trip, two friends accompanied me who showed no interest in the contents of this memorial practicing their speed walking skills more than the information on the plaques. Tourists filled the atrium. My mom and her friend, Laurie, stood in line to get our tickets, while the four of us teenagers plus a French exchange student walked through an exhibit called “Daniel’s Story” targeted towards a younger audience.
Once our time came to enter the museum, the museum attendants hoarded our group into elevators, just as the Nazi soldiers packed prisoners into the cattle cars to transport them to the concentration camps. An attendant handed us paper identification cards that represented a person who lived through the Holocaust. As I retraced the steps of Lisl Winternitz, the museum walls projected the black void and horror of the Holocaust. Emerging from the elevators, patriotic Nazi music filled my ears. We made our way through the endless winding of the museum’s exhibitions halls which felt endless, just as the prisoners I can imagine felt the endless days of working, starvation, and torture. My identity was stripped. I could only be described simply as “human”. Artifacts lining the glass cases included Nazi propaganda, family pictures of the Jews and gypsies, and even a large cattle car filling one of the museum rooms. Each room ushered me into a new period of the genocide and many videos of Nazis killing their victims played on elevated screens to prevent the youth from seeing. These TVs attracted large audiences. As I witnessed the fascination with the sight of violence I wondered whether the horrific genocide taking place on the screens attracted people because they actually wanted to bear witness or possessed a disturbing …show more content…
Throughout my entire school career, teacher’s taught the importance to bear witness to the Holocaust. From reading Anne Frank’s diary, watching countless Holocaust documentaries, flipping through faded pictures of concentration camps, to reading Night by Elie Wiesel, all have transformed into means teachers try to teach empathy, understanding of our world, and cultural awareness. What the Holocaust Museum tried to tell the story that mingled the political culture with the actual tragedies of human genocide; that makes all the difference in a world that is home to so many who roam the earth blind to what happens around the world. This museum served a reminder that humans are only as kind, empathetic, and humble as we allow ourselves to be in times of reflection and that we write our history, choosing to believe and remember what we want. This museum serves as evidence of humans trying to do good in the world. It represents our attempt to prevent indifference, as Elie Wiesel said, “The opposite of love is not hate, it 's indifference.” Seeing all the atrocities of the Holocaust, I couldn’t help but think how the entire world could allow this to happen to a group of people, but then I remembered the countless other genocides that have occurred from Armenia, Rwanda, Cambodia, and Bosnia. Going to this museum made me question humans. Why do humans treat one of their own like the Nazi’s treated the Jewish? Why do we seek to preserve events that provokes
Once our time came to enter the museum, the museum attendants hoarded our group into elevators, just as the Nazi soldiers packed prisoners into the cattle cars to transport them to the concentration camps. An attendant handed us paper identification cards that represented a person who lived through the Holocaust. As I retraced the steps of Lisl Winternitz, the museum walls projected the black void and horror of the Holocaust. Emerging from the elevators, patriotic Nazi music filled my ears. We made our way through the endless winding of the museum’s exhibitions halls which felt endless, just as the prisoners I can imagine felt the endless days of working, starvation, and torture. My identity was stripped. I could only be described simply as “human”. Artifacts lining the glass cases included Nazi propaganda, family pictures of the Jews and gypsies, and even a large cattle car filling one of the museum rooms. Each room ushered me into a new period of the genocide and many videos of Nazis killing their victims played on elevated screens to prevent the youth from seeing. These TVs attracted large audiences. As I witnessed the fascination with the sight of violence I wondered whether the horrific genocide taking place on the screens attracted people because they actually wanted to bear witness or possessed a disturbing …show more content…
Throughout my entire school career, teacher’s taught the importance to bear witness to the Holocaust. From reading Anne Frank’s diary, watching countless Holocaust documentaries, flipping through faded pictures of concentration camps, to reading Night by Elie Wiesel, all have transformed into means teachers try to teach empathy, understanding of our world, and cultural awareness. What the Holocaust Museum tried to tell the story that mingled the political culture with the actual tragedies of human genocide; that makes all the difference in a world that is home to so many who roam the earth blind to what happens around the world. This museum served a reminder that humans are only as kind, empathetic, and humble as we allow ourselves to be in times of reflection and that we write our history, choosing to believe and remember what we want. This museum serves as evidence of humans trying to do good in the world. It represents our attempt to prevent indifference, as Elie Wiesel said, “The opposite of love is not hate, it 's indifference.” Seeing all the atrocities of the Holocaust, I couldn’t help but think how the entire world could allow this to happen to a group of people, but then I remembered the countless other genocides that have occurred from Armenia, Rwanda, Cambodia, and Bosnia. Going to this museum made me question humans. Why do humans treat one of their own like the Nazi’s treated the Jewish? Why do we seek to preserve events that provokes