Opening Program: 9 June 2008

Today we were split into discussion groups and asked to share the representations we had of the Holocaust in our respective countries. In my group alone, we had a Mexican-American, an Asian-American, a Pole, and a Ukrainian. Our conversation, to say the least, was downright fascinating.

For the Polish student, the Holocaust was inextricably linked to World War II, which, according to him, signified the occupation of Poland by the Soviet Union, thanks to America's betrayal. The Ukrainian girl, on the other hand, possessed a much more vivid connection to the horrors of the Holocaust. Every day in Kiev, her hometown, she passes by a park that was used during the Holocaust as a mass grave for Jews—one they had to dig themselves before they were all lined up and shot. Meanwhile, for the other American girl and me, we'd learned about the Holocaust as that monstrosity America had helped end by fighting in World War II.

In a matter of 20 minutes, it seems, countless things—-all of them crucial—-were made to take place. First, we were made aware of the other group members' distinct perceptions of the Holocaust and World War II. Upon being made aware of these, we began to explore why it was we had come to hold these perceptions: was it because of our different educations, different surroundings, different upbringings, or a combination of these factors? In exploring our different interpretations of history, we got a glimpse of something essential: how identities—national and personal—are furnished and formed. This, for me, was amazing, and in a sense, a reason for hope. After all, it seems, the moment we acknowledge the deep extent to which we've been shaped by our surroundings, in many ways, is the moment when fruitful dialogue can begin.
-Amy Hong