Here are the opening remarks I made at an interactive Second Generation (2G) session I facilitated at the Liberation75 global virtual conference on May 9, 2021. 

I’d like to share with you a little of my history as the daughter of Fela Zylberstajn and Moishe Grachnik, Holocaust survivors from the Lodz Ghetto and Auschwitz. Events that occurred in Europe between the years 1933 and 1945 influence my life today. I first became conscious of my heritage in April 1978 after viewing Holocaust, a four-part television mini-series. I also read Helen Epstein’s 1979 seminal book, Children of the Holocaust, and became aware of a community I didn’t know existed. Many of my friends were the daughters and sons of Holocaust survivors but we had never spoken about our identities and experiences. Shortly thereafter, I joined an awareness or consciousness-raising group that was advertised for offspring of Holocaust survivors in Montreal. In reality, it was a therapy group facilitated by Doctors Henry Kravitz and John Sigal, a well-known psychologist who conducted some of the early studies on Holocaust survivors and the Second Generation. There was an immediate affinity between us – a sense of lost family. Most of us were born in the displaced person camps in Germany several years after liberation. 

This group changed me because for the first time I explored the impact of my parents’ experiences on my own life. I accessed thoughts and feelings I had repressed. For example, when I was growing up, whenever I left the house, my father told me to be careful, not to stand out as a Jew, and bring attention to myself because the world is a dangerous place for Jews.  

Also, for the first time, I was able to feel the pain of my own losses and cry about the atrocities committed to my parents. For example, I had an “aha” moment when I realized that it wasn’t only my mother’s and father’s family who were murdered in the Holocaust. It was my family too. My mother was the only survivor of a nuclear and extended family of 80 people. My father was more fortunate. His father, sister, and brother survived out of a family of 25 people. My mother’s parents, Mirla and Itzhak were my grandparents and her siblings, Pesa, Aron, Shloimele and Alter Ber were my aunt and uncles. My father’s mother, Henna was my grandmother. 

When I became aware of my family connection, I got in touch with the pain of my losses and grieved their deaths. I also began the process of exploring and coming to terms with my roots. I found the courage to face my mother’s tears and ask her about her family that was so brutally murdered. My mother had never spoken about her experiences and I didn’t want to ask because I didn’t want to cause her pain and see her cry. Many of us 2Gs have worked hard to please our parents and not cause them pain. I remember labeling myself a “band-aid” that takes the pain away because I didn’t want to hurt or disappoint my mother.

Realizing that I knew very little about my parent’s pre-Holocaust lives, I decided to explore my roots. I subsequently interviewed my parents about the neighborhoods in which they lived, their family and social relationships, livelihoods, educational backgrounds, religious practices, political involvement, and customs. In so doing, I started to understand the continuity of life between my parents’ past and my present. I’ve included these interviews in my book, Recovering from Genocidal Trauma: An Information and Practice Guide for Working with Holocaust Survivors.

In my mid-thirties, during my mid-life search for self, I consciously embarked on a healing journey of becoming an adult emotionally and assumed responsibility for my life. This then opened the way to make new conscious choices. I didn’t want to do things in the old way anymore. I detached from my parents’ feelings and their hold, got in touch with my own feelings, asserted myself, established boundaries, and let go of protecting them. I began the process of self-actualization.

Our relationships with our parents can only change when we take responsibility for changing them by moving out of the parent/child dynamic and engage in an adult relationship with them. I sought help along the way. I shared my experiences with friends, read articles and books, attended conferences, went into therapy, and wrote in my journal. I eventually forgave my parents and accepted them for who they are. Although in some ways they did not change, in other ways they did. However, my feelings about them and my response to them changed. I came to the conclusion that they did the best they could with what they had going for them.  

My personal and professional relationships have shown me that we, the Second Generation are distinct individuals, some of us coping better, some less, but on the whole, we are finding ways to meaningfully integrate our parents’ experiences into our lives. Some of us are doing this through the creative arts by writing poetry and books, painting, photography, and making films.  Some are in the healing professions, educators, and spiritual leaders. Others are interviewing parents about their experiences and when this is not possible, they are conducting research about their family histories. And still, others are involved in human rights activism.

In his book, In the Shadow of the Holocaust: The Second Generation, Aaron Hass, a son of survivors and clinical psychologist, identifies two distinguishable features attributed to us – compassion for the less fortunate and resilience in the face of adversity. During the past year of the COVID-19 pandemic, my 2G peers are telling me they often think of their parents and their experiences during the Holocaust and turn to them as sources of strength and courage during these challenging times. I understand because I’m doing the same. My parents have taught me important life lessons about adaptation and coping, hope, gratitude, helping others, love of family and community, sensitivity to human suffering, and appreciating the simple pleasures in life.

In addition to Helen Epstein’s book, Children of the Holocaust, I’d like to recommend two other books that helped me to understand the impact of my parents’ legacy. The first is the one I previously mentioned, In the Shadow of the Holocaust: The Second Generation, by Aaron Hass. The second is God, Faith, and Identity from the Ashes: Reflections of Children and Grandchildren of Holocaust Survivors, edited by Menachem Rosensaft, the son of survivors and founding chairman of the International Network of Children of Jewish Holocaust Survivors.

I’d now like to share with you a vulnerability and strength I’ve inherited from my parents. My work with Second Generation has shown me that we’ve inherited both adverse and resilient characteristics and life-affirming qualities from our parents.

A vulnerability I’ve inherited is to not bring attention to myself as a Jew; not to stand out because the world is a dangerous place for Jews. For example, I never wore Jewish symbols such as a Star of David in public. This fear surfaced when my book, Recovering from Genocidal Trauma was published in 2014 and I went on speaking tours. In some settings, there were non-Jews in the audience and I was afraid they would hurl anti-Semitic slurs at me, and worse, I would be beaten up when I left the room. This never happened but my fear and insecurities were triggered. And when they are, I don’t allow them to define me. I process them and move them into my peripheral vision. I know they’re there but they don’t trigger the emotional arousal they used to.

The flip side is I’m a proud Jew and have inherited this strength from my parents who chose to remain Jewish after the war. Many survivors did not. They infused my brothers and me with the Jewish customs and traditions of the past such as Friday night Shabbat dinners, the celebration of the Jewish holidays, and frequent family get-togethers. I now do the same with my family. 

I believe it’s important to create continuity with our past by finding ways to engage with our roots and ancestors that are not only based on tragedy, losses, and pain. In other words, fostering an appreciation of our rich Jewish culture and traditions and integrating them into our lifestyles.  For example, most of us didn’t inherit family heirlooms. These precious items were stolen from the homes our parents left behind. So I’m creating new heirlooms. My late mother’s Sabbath tablecloth was the Chuppah or canopy at my daughter’s wedding.  We use my parents’ Seder plate and dishes at Passover and my daughter lights Sabbath candles on my mother’s candelabra. These are the customs and traditions handed down from my grandparents that we’re continuing in the lives of my children and grandchildren. We, the Second Generation are the link between these two worlds.