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Fighting Hate, Across Cultures
and Generations
New York Times, 15 January
2004
January 14, 2004
By COREY KILGANNON
A Holocaust survivor and a survivor
from the Rwanda massacres go together to speak to students.
David Gewirtzman and Jacqueline
Murekatete stood before a restless group of students
at Great Neck North High School, waiting to tell their
stories. They seemed to be an unlikely pair speaking
on what seemed an unlikely topic - genocide - for a
group of teenagers munching on sandwiches and rustling
snack wrappers.
By the time they had finished,
however, the only sound that
could be heard in the room was the faint hum of a radiator.
Mr. Gewirtzman, a 75-year-old
retired pharmacist who lives
in Great Neck, N.Y., on Long Island, survived the Holocaust
by spending almost two years burrowed with other members
of
his family under a pigsty on a Polish farm.
Now, he visits local schools,
hoping that by telling of his
experiences, he can educate students and help to prevent
a
killing like the Holocaust from happening again.
When he spoke at a high school
in Queens two years ago, Ms.
Murekatete, then a student, was in the audience. She
said
his story had made her burst into tears. She wrote him
a
note relating her own horrible story, which took place
in
Rwanda, in central Africa, in 1994. She narrowly escaped
being hacked to death by a rival tribe. Her family -
both
parents and all six siblings - did not.
"I finally found someone
who understood what I went through
because he went through the same thing," said Ms.
Murekatete, now 19 and a freshman at the State University
at Stony Brook.
Mr. Gewirtzman met the teenager,
heard her story and
suggested she begin speaking to groups with him.
It would not bring her family
back, he said, but it might
save other families from potential genocide. It would
also
help to heal her own pain.
"We are as different as can
be," he told the students.
"She's black, I'm white;
she's young, I'm old; she's
African and Christian and I'm a Jew from Poland. Yet
we're
like brother and sister, because we're bound by the
common
trauma of our experience and a common history of pain
and
suffering and persecution."
Now they appear regularly together,
hoping that they can
bring experience and relevance to a harsh subject. But
neither expected the impression they would have on each
other, and how deep their friendship would grow with
the
only apparent bond being death.
Elaine Weiss, a history teacher
at the high school who
directs its social science research center, said she
asked
them to speak because "the kids can identify with
an
18-year-old girl better than they can with a 75-year-old
man."
She said, "Our kids read
theories about racism and genocide
in books. But when they hear similar real-life stories
from
a white European man and a black African teenager 55
years
apart in age, who lived through events 50 years apart
in
history, it's not a theory anymore. It's alive."
Mr. Gewirtzman grew up in a small
village in Poland and in
November 1942, the family persuaded a local farmer to
hide
them and some relatives - eight people in all - for
20
months in a small trench below a pigsty strewn with
mud and
pig waste.
Day after day in the hole, they
would argue whether to
surrender to the Nazis, he recalled.
"At times my father would
yell at me, 'Why did you lead us
here? We should have gone to Treblinka and gotten it
over
with,'" Mr. Gewirtzman said. "I'd tell him,
'You may want
to die, but don't you want your children to live?' Then
he
would snap out of it."
"We thought there wasn't
a Jew in Europe still alive, but
for some reason, I never once doubted we would survive,"
he
said. "Maybe I was too young and na?ve, but I never
lost
hope."
They did not escape until July
31, 1944, when the Nazis
retreated.
Mr. Gewirtzman and his family
lived in Europe for several
years, then came to the United States in 1948. He served
in
the United States Army in Germany.
He and his wife have two grown
sons and he also volunteers
at the Nassau Holocaust Memorial Center, in Glen Cove,
Long
Island.
As Mr. Gewirtzman spoke, the students
became spellbound.
Some still held back tears as Ms. Murekatete began telling
how she grew up as the second oldest of seven children
on a
family farm in Rwanda. Her family were members of a
Tutsi
tribe. In April 1994, when she was 9, the news came
over
the radio that the Hutu president had been killed. Groups
of Hutu men and boys wielding guns, machetes and clubs
began descending upon villages, killing Tutsis.
The day they reached her village,
Ms. Murekatete was
visiting her grandmother Magdalene Mukasharangabo in
a
nearby village. Her grandmother saved her by taking
her to
an orphanage.
After two months, she learned
from surviving cousins that
her family - her mother, father, two sisters, and four
brothers - had been tortured and hacked to pieces with
machetes. Most of her other relatives were also killed,
including her grandmother.
She was brought to New York in
October 1995, by an uncle
who legally adopted her and applied for political asylum
for her. She spoke only Kinyarwanda, but was placed
in a
fifth-grade class and soon learned English and began
excelling in school.
She said she still sees her family
in her dreams. Other
times, though, she is chased by the men with machetes.
"I've never gone to a counselor
or a therapist," she said.
"At first, I guess I hoped it might just go away."
She said, "Some of my friends
are afraid to ask me about it
and I'm not a person who talks about my problems."
Ms. Murekatete is currently writing
a book about her
recollections of the genocide in Rwanda.
She also said that last September,
she met the human rights
advocate Elie Wiesel at an International Day of Peace
ceremony at the United Nations. After hearing her story,
he
hugged her and said he would help her publish it.
With many cousins, aunts and uncles
killed and only a few
relatives left, Ms. Murekatete has grown close to Mr.
Gewirtzman and his wife, Lillian, a Polish Jew, who
had
been sent with her family to Siberia for six years while
Russia occupied Poland. Ms. Murekatete visits their
home in
Great Neck and has been to their summer home in the
Hamptons. The Gewirtzmans went to her high school
graduation, and she had tears in her eyes.
"I didn't know what to do
with my experience and he showed
me," she said when asked about that day.
Mr. Gewirtzman said, "In
a way, we've become sort of
parents to her."
"We both went through a traumatic experience,"
he said,
"but instead of remaining bitter and angry and
seeking
revenge, we both resolved to spend the anger in a positive
manner, to prevent this from ever happening again."
Ms. Murekatete shows listeners that racial hatred has
outlived the Holocaust, and that genocide was not just
something that happened to an old Jewish man from Poland,
he said.
"When I go to an inner-city school, the kids might
think
they have nothing in common with some Jews 60 years
ago, or
me with slavery," he said.
"But when they see both of us, they see the problem
is the
same," he said. "It transcends race and ethnicity.
People
are still being taught hatred and it is hatred that
we are
fighting."
Ms. Murekatete said, "Sometimes, students ask
if they can
help, and I say, The best thing you can do for me is
to
educate yourselves so this doesn't continue to happen."
Received from SoniaZylberberg. Director of Education.
Montreal Holocaust Memorial
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