{"id":450,"date":"2020-07-30T10:26:05","date_gmt":"2020-07-30T09:26:05","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/digitalholocaustmemory.wordpress.com\/?p=450"},"modified":"2021-03-11T15:59:52","modified_gmt":"2021-03-11T15:59:52","slug":"im-a-holocaust-survivor-and-reflections-on-the-ushmm-next-chapter-video-series","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/reframe.sussex.ac.uk\/digitalholocaustmemorybackup\/2020\/07\/30\/im-a-holocaust-survivor-and-reflections-on-the-ushmm-next-chapter-video-series\/","title":{"rendered":"\u201cI\u2019m a Holocaust survivor and\u2026\u201d : reflections on the USHMM \u2018Next Chapter\u2019 video series"},"content":{"rendered":"

Earlier this year, the <\/strong>United States Holocaust Memorial Museum<\/strong><\/a> (USHMM) published a new digital media project, \u2018Next Chapter\u2019, across their <\/strong>Facebook<\/strong><\/a>, <\/strong>Twitter<\/strong><\/a>, <\/strong>YouTube<\/strong><\/a>, and <\/strong>Instagram<\/strong><\/a> channels. The series of six videos feature Holocaust survivors talking about the hobbies of their postwar lives in ways that are framed by their memories of the Holocaust. Publicly viewable replies and comments to the videos suggest that the series is forging emotional connections with digital audiences, as individuals identify and empathise with the survivors through shared interests. This week\u2019s blog from guest contributor Lauren Cantillon asks how do the videos broaden our ideas of the \u2018Holocaust survivor\u2019 figure, while also offering a vision for creating a connective digital Holocaust memory?<\/strong><\/p>\n

I spend a lot of time listening to and watching Holocaust survivors<\/strong> recount their personal memories<\/strong> as part of Holocaust testimony gathering projects. The majority of these recordings are several hours long (four hours is a quick one!) and so I often feel emotionally invested in that person<\/strong> by the time I finish listening to their story. With that in mind, it is a constant personal frustration that many testimony projects do not also allow much space for survivors to recount their postwar lives. Yes, we may hear about or even see family members in the recording, but postwar lives are often quickly summarised<\/strong>, leaving a viewer very well informed of who a survivor was<\/strong>, but maybe not so much of who they are in the present<\/strong> moment of the recording. To an extent this is understandable \u2013 these are Holocaust<\/em> testimony gathering projects after all \u2013 but I am always left wanting to hear more. How does a person navigate the world after surviving genocide<\/strong>, and who are they beyond being a Holocaust survivor?<\/strong><\/p>\n

Next Chapter<\/strong><\/p>\n

I first came across the USHMM \u2018Next Chapter\u2019<\/strong> project through watching Nat Shaffir\u2019s video, \u2018Putting Down Roots\u2019<\/a>, and was immediately excited by the potential of this style of ‘survivor media\u2019 (for want of a better expression) as something different from more traditional styles of testimony videos<\/strong>. The people featured in the series are all (child) Holocaust survivors, but they are given the opportunity to speak beyond that as their sole marker of their identity<\/strong>, sharing more universal reflections and experiences that are also part of their sense of self<\/strong>.<\/p>\n

In the garden with Nat Shaffir<\/strong><\/p>\n

Shaffir is incredibly endearing, drawing a viewer in by talking about his enjoyment of pickling the produce that he grows in his garden plot, and we see him performing this process; \u2018it\u2019s a continuation of different generations of pickle makers\u2019<\/strong> he says beaming at the camera. These feelings of endearment feel further heightened by the aesthetic qualities of the film<\/strong> \u2013 beautiful colour saturation of the fresh vegetables, upbeat music, great lighting; everything feels very warm<\/strong>.<\/p>\n

\"Nat
Nat Shaffir\u2019s garden bathed in sunlight, with a trio of freshly full jars of pickled vegetables on a the table<\/em><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Shaffir connects his love of gardening to having grown up on a farm in Romania, again citing his father who \u2018taught me to appreciate what the land can give us, what nature can give us\u2019<\/strong>. This remembering leads us into Shaffir\u2019s Holocaust-specific memories; his Hungarian family were taken to Auschwitz, and he and his immediate family were taken to Iasi where they, being farmers, were at an advantage to \u2018city people\u2019<\/strong> because they knew what wild plants could be safely eaten when other food supplies were low.<\/p>\n

Shaffir\u2019s reflective advice, that<\/p>\n

‘the hardships on the farm teaches you that, sometimes, in life you have hardships, and you try to live with it’,<\/strong><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

further entwines his Holocaust story with his present gardening knowledge and Holocaust survivor status \u2013 as a child he took strength from the land in order to survive, and his comments suggest that his identity as a survivor is intertwined with the land<\/strong>. One wonders if this can work backwards somehow, with present gardening \u2018hardships\u2019 like a less successful crop evoking memories of hardships<\/strong> during the Holocaust.<\/p>\n

In the present, Shaffir\u2019s garden is a place of love, joy and growth (literally as we see the plants flourish over seasons). He is \u2018exhilarated\u2019<\/strong> by what the garden may produce, and also how it brings his family together \u2013 his relationship with his grandson (also part of the film) echoes his own memories of time with his father on the family farm.<\/p>\n

\"Nat
Nat Shaffir and his grandson holding their harvest of cucumbers<\/em><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

The video ends on an uplifting note, with Shaffir again beaming to camera and speaking:<\/p>\n

‘my name is Nat Shaffir, I\u2019m a Holocaust survivor, environmentalist, and a gardener’.<\/strong><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

This layering of identities \u2013 repeated at the end of each \u2018Next Chapter\u2019 video as \u2018I\u2019m a Holocaust survivor and [blank]\u2019<\/strong> \u2013 is the strength of this media project; Shaffir\u2019s memories of the Shoah are included, reflecting that he is a survivor, but in a way that also leaves space for him to be other things<\/strong> and publicly share those parts of himself with an audience<\/strong>.<\/p>\n

\"In
In his garden, Nat Shaffir beams in the final moments of \u2018Putting Down Roots\u2019<\/em><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Shaffir is engaging<\/strong>; he feels like he could be your grandfather, or the kindly neighbour from a few doors down who gives you the spare tomatoes from their garden. I am not alone in experiencing such a positive emotional connection<\/strong> to Shaffir\u2019s video. When shared on the USHMM\u2019s Facebook page<\/a>, one commenter replied:<\/p>\n

\u2018This is wonderful and heartwarming after such evil!\u2019<\/strong><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Several commenters express that Shaffir is a<\/p>\n

\u2018beautiful man\u2019<\/strong>,<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

and more leave a one word response of<\/p>\n

\u2018amazing\u2019<\/strong>.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

On Instagram<\/a> users reacted in similar fashion, with comments like<\/p>\n

\u2018this has warmed my heart\u2019<\/strong>,<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

\u2018I absolutely LOVED that!\u2019<\/strong>,<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

and<\/p>\n

\u2018<\/strong>That! Was wonderful! May his gardens always be bountiful!<\/strong>\u2019.<\/strong><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

Emoticons<\/strong> related to gardening and the earth (e.g. the tomato, the cucumber and green hearts) were also part of the response, as well as users tagging <\/strong>friends and business accounts related to farms and general greenery so as to \u2018spark some joy\u2019<\/strong>. Such responses suggest that Shaffir\u2019s narrative has connected with the USHMM\u2019s digital audiences<\/strong>, and particularly because of his identity as a gardener<\/strong>.<\/p>\n

Professional and democratised memory?<\/strong><\/p>\n

The way these videos have been produced to be shared via an institution\u2019s digital platforms as online media is significant. As described by Christian Fuchs<\/a>, the drive by large corporations to monetise the digital social spaces of Web 2.0 meant commercial interests overwhelmed individual ones, leading to a prioritisation of professional content over more personal outputs<\/strong>. The USHMM can lean in to this professional privileging as part of its mandate to challenge the antisemitism and Holocaust denial<\/strong> also present on social networking sites (Terry<\/a>; Cohen-Almagor<\/a>). Yet the \u2018Next Chapter\u2019<\/strong> project shows it is possible to do both, combining the resources of an institution and utilising its platforms to share personal stories at the micro level; professional and democratised memory, together.<\/p>\n

In the pool with Peter Gorog<\/strong><\/p>\n

Another video in the series is \u2018Propelling Forward\u2019<\/a>, in which we meet Peter Gorog. We see Gorog swimming, something he learnt as a child in Hungary, but he shares the realities of swimming now, that \u2018sometimes swimming is not fun\u2019<\/strong>. He continues:<\/p>\n

\u2018what helps me through those moments is that I think about my father \u2013 he was taken to the first labour camps during the Holocaust and he perished in 1943. I am sure that until his last breath he did everything he could do to survive and to come back to his family and, I think if he could do what he did then I can do the next ten minutes and the next ten minutes.\u2019 <\/strong><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

\"Peter
Peter Gorog leans poolside, looking directly into camera<\/em><\/figcaption><\/figure>\n

Gorog\u2019s determination, inspired by imagined memories of his father\u2019s own perseverance is something inherently relatable<\/strong> \u2013 who hasn\u2019t been in the middle of something and found it difficult to carry on? Part of the video, Gorog\u2019s human struggles<\/strong> in the swimming pool and his emotional response to those struggles<\/strong> are how a digital audience connects to him. When the video was shared<\/a> through the USHMM\u2019s Twitter account, a reply reads:<\/p>\n

\u2018<\/strong>This is a poignant video, very special for another swimmer such as myself.<\/strong>\u2019 <\/strong><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

\u00a0<\/strong>Connective digital Holocaust memories?<\/strong><\/p>\n

That people are commenting, sharing and \u2018liking\u2019 the videos calls into question Wulf Kansteiner\u2019s (2017)<\/a> assessment that<\/p>\n

\u2018<\/strong>connective, emergent digital Holocaust memories exist in some social media contexts, but not in the institutional settings designed to teach Holocaust and genocide memory\u2019<\/strong>.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n

The USHMM considers its social networking channels as an extension of the institution, with its Facebook page<\/a> explicitly stating its purpose as a place to<\/p>\n

\u2018memorialize the Nazis\u2019 victims; launch discussion about the Holocaust and its relevance today; and raise awareness that antisemitism, hatred, and genocide are ongoing threats and that we each have a role in combating them\u2019<\/strong><\/p><\/blockquote>\n

among other things. I propose that the highlighted responses from the two \u2018Next Chapter\u2019<\/strong> videos discussed suggest the USHMM have been successful in creating and sharing connective digital Holocaust memories in an institutional context<\/strong>, even if the videos are absent from their own website.<\/p>\n