After Auschwitz 70

Yesterday was hard for me, I won't lie and say it wasn't.

Why, you ask? When a person chooses to undertake the preservation of one of the darkest chapters of human history it can be overwhelming to the point of devastation. Yesterday I said little with the exception of talking in class or to my suite mates because I wanted the day to be completely about reflection and that is what I got. I got a day to converse with myself and dig deeper into why I might have been chosen to keep this message alive. 

I streamed the ceremonies at Auschwitz live on the website so I got a chance to watch history. I got the chance to see what might be the last "milestone" anniversary of liberation that survivors en masse will make it to. As I watched, there were things that moved me to tears. Survivor Roman Kent said in his speech, "If I could make an eleventh commandment it would be that no one is allowed to be a bystander." This is the crux of Never Again in my mind. Especially with the anti-Semetic and other attacks rooted in prejudice that have been going on recently this statement is a cry to the world. It's 2015, so why does it look almost like 1933? We cannot let this go on.

When you go as deeply into the Holocaust as I have, many wonder if you can come out. The truth is that you can't. Things resonate and stay with you, you cry for people you did not know, and you gain a new perspective on what hate can do. It's harrowing and it can sometimes drown you completely. I've found that a lot of the times I have to take a step away from it to reconnect with life around me. As a historian, my mind dwells a lot in the past and I'm thankful that I can come back to the present when the past is too much.

Last night as a long and hard day closed with me lying in bed. I said kaddish, a Jewish prayer for the dead that I Googled. After, I made a pact with myself. If I can, I will go to another Auschwitz milestone in the future on behalf of the diminishing survivors and I will lead the campaign for my generation and generations after to not forget.

The support of all of you is wonderful, but one comment really stuck with me. My friend Sam thanked me for my work in this field. I had never been thanked so genuinely for doing something I'm passionate about and that comment made my day as did the countless other messages of support.

Thank you.

Auschwitz 70 Commemorative Letter

To all my Facebook friends,

Tomorrow (or tonight) I urge each one of you to take a little bit of time out of your very fulfilling life and remember what this day is all about. January 27th is a very important day to us as a people because we cannot forget that atrocity is all around us, especially in the times we live. January 27th is a day for reflection and to remember the lives lost, not just in the Holocaust, but in any genocide whether it's the Native American genocide or the recent genocides in Rwanda or Cambodia. Genocide is one of the world's saddest concepts and it's such a big concept that we can barely begin to understand it and if we try it crushes us.

I am an ameuter Holocaust historian as you all well know. Some ask why I like this period of time, and honestly that isn't the right word to use and it almost comes off as inappropriate. I don't like this time period at all. I think the acts committed by the Nazis during this period were so unspeakable that no word can sum them up properly. I study this time period because I think the past holds a key to the future. If we repeat the past then we won't have a better future; and like children we won't learn from the mistakes we made in the past and we keep making them. Some people ask me if the Holocaust has affected me directly and the answer is actually yes and it continues to affect me to this day. I am disabled, and the Nazis killed people like me. The Holocaust is wrongly believed by many to be solely part of Jewish history, but it's really a part of world history because countless other groups like Poles, disabled people, homosexuals, political enemies, etc were also targeted in the Nazis' program to purify Europe as they saw fit. I am not Jewish but my best friend is and I can't imagine anyone hurting her or her family. The world needs to realize that the Holocaust holds importance to every person and not just the Jews. If gentiles don't help our Jewish friends with the campaign to remember we will have come nowhere from where we were in the war when most looked the other way.

That is unacceptable.

So why is Auschwitz 70 so significant? We still have survivors with us today but it saddens me that they are slowly diminishing. There will come a time soon when no survivors will be able to gather at Auschwitz like they are doing tomorrow. When that time comes it will be up to us to go on their behalf. It will be up to us to say, "I will not forget. I stand with the victims and survivors to remember." So I ask each one of you to take a minute out of your day to reflect, light a candle, or even just spread the word about why January 27th is so important. I know a whole generation of people that your acknowledgment of tomorrow's significance will mean the world to.

I will say Never Forget and Never Again not just tomorrow but every day. I hope you will as well too.

Thank you for your time.

On Being Unbroken

I'm a writer. I'm an avid reader. Books teach me things about life. I gain something from almost everything I read whether it was academic knowledge or life lessons. Harry Potter for example taught me that friendship and family and love are three of the most important things a person can have. When I first read Laura Hillenbrand's extraordinary biography of Louie Zamperini I learned that you are more resilient that you think. Few of the books I've read in my short existence have changed my life and Unbroken was one. Then the film came out and it sealed the deal.

I went to go see the movie on Christmas break the day after Christmas with my parents and grandparents. My grandpa and dad and I had read the book so we were familiar with Louie's story. My grandpa actually had seen Louie speak in Houston a few months after he read the book. There was a line for the movie even at the theater we had to drive twenty minutes to because it was the only one we could get tickets at for that day. As I sat and watched I was amazed at how well made the film was but I was also amazed how through it all Louie never gave in. At the end of the movie not only had I decided Louie was my hero but there was this moment where the whole theater was silent for a split second and then started applauding. I had never seen that happen and it was so profound. I doubt I ever will see a moment like that in a cinema again.

After seeing the movie I fell in love with the personality of Louie Zamperini (and it also doesn't hurt that he was quite a good looking guy in his youth too!). How someone could have gone through all he did and have the strength to offer forgiveness to those that hurt him as much as they did amazed me. Last year I had some time to extend forgiveness to a few people myself but what they had done was nowhere near on the scale of what Louie forgave. I wish I had gotten a chance to meet Louie. If I did I probably would tell him that he is such an inspiration to my life and hugged him. His story has taught me more about resilience than any other book.

But what does that mean? To be Unbroken? Well, if you think simply it means to be not broken. But as a writer I'm also a self proclaimed philosopher so to me being unbroken goes hand in hand with resilience. Resilience is one of the best weapons a person can wield. It makes individuals amazing and helps them inspire others. To me anyone can be Unbroken if they onn't let anything get to them. Life sucks sometimes but if you can take it you can make it. I've met so many people who have taught me this from a young age but in that theater I knew I chose to be Unbroken for life.

So thank you Laura Hillenbrand for contributing to my self discovery and thank you to Louie for living the life he did and being as amazing as he was. I hope to be half the person he was. 

On Self Love

An article I read on Thought Catalog about a writer who has Cerebral Palsy and his struggle with self love really got me thinking about it. As some of you know I help mentor kids with hemiplegia/hemiparesis/CP and try to help them love themselves early on, because I think self love is a must in life. Some people I speak to about this are adults and even they find it helpful. So without further adieu my writer's mind came up with this.

A Journey to Self Love

By Helon Dobbins

I have had hemiparesis since I was born. It's just been a fact of my life. Despite all the privilege I was fortunate enough to have been raised in the fact remains that I am a disabled American. And I'm proud to be both those things. I'm proud of my country and the history of it and the freedom I have every day but more importantly I am proud to be hemiparetic. Why, you ask? Because it gives me identity. It says I'm a fighter. Some of you know about my recent connection with Unbroken and the reason in part is because I am my own Louie Zamperini. I didn't go through anything near what he did but I certainly have a story and a history that still affects who I am now and will for the rest of my life.

Now, I don't want to sound vain or like I'm seeking pity. I don't want anyone's pity. I'm not writing this because I think it will get liked or shared or commented on. I write this as a response to something I read, and as a writer I like to write. Not always about myself, but n a rare occasion I do. But so many disabled people spike pity, I think, because they can't be comfortable with how they were born and that to the disabled community who has accepted and embraced the way we are is mind boggling.

If you had asked me five years ago at 14 if I loved who I was my response would have been hell no. I was in my awkward teenager phase mixed with the teenage angst phase that was slowly creeping upon me. I dyed my hair (a choice I still love by the way, the only choice from that time in my life I still agree with) and thought that might help me. It didn't. I went through the teen agst hard and for a while at fifteen I thought about killing myself. I really did, and now looking back I'm so glad I didn't. When people say the best has yet to come, they're right.

At that time as a freshman/sophomore in high school some of my friends had boyfriends. I thought, "Who would ever like me or want to go out with me? I'm ugly and half of my body doesn't work like other girls." Boys are idiots (sorry guys reading this) in high school and it takes a good majority of them time to man up. On the other hand, girls can be just as brutal if not more so in high school. Fortunately while I was never teased in high school I was too focused on being how society defined beauty that I didn't stop to think about what a stroke of luck it was that I was not bullied.

When I went to college I go questions as expected because I was meeting new people. Some of the questions were asked after a while of knowing the person who was asking and some were asked up front. I usually don't like the latter since in that situation the question is more likely to come off in a rude manner. In the first situation I would gladly explain and be honest but in the second I would kind of get annoyed. Like, really, is that the first thing you notice? Do you meet my disability before meeting me? Would it be fair if I pointed out your flaws after knowing you for five seconds? Simple answer: no. After something like that exchange happened they would feel bad. I don't usually like making others feel bad but in this case hopefully they learn for next time they might encounter a person who is clearly different from them.

The world spins on tragedy and atrocity. In my life I know this and am not immune to it and there are some nights where at 3 AM I get philosophical and wonder why. People are cruel. The world is wicked. Bad things happen to good people. People close to you will die. War happens often. So does genocide. But if we focus on these things or our own misfortunes constantly it will break us.

The world is also beautiful. If you think at 19 I don't know this you're wrong. I've seen beauty: I see it in a warm summer day, on my college campus every day surrounding me, in my family, in my friends, in opportunity I'm blessed with, in flowers, in music, in writing, on film, etc. These are the things we need to be focused on as times move forward. That will make the world happier.

I realize this is getting kind of off topic, but I have a lot to say. If we, disabled and able bodied people alike, do not love ourselves how are we supposed to love? I don't think you can, but that's one opinion. Everyone is made of love and therefore should share it. Choosing to ignore that is what sparks war and hatred so powerful it has led to some of the most unthinkable crimes.

Back to the original topic, I realize some disabled people struggle with self love and will all their life. I'm not saying it comes easily, but it will come. It may come and go but that's okay. Disabled people should realize we are truly AWESOME and we can do anything despite what others say or when they rudely point out our flaws. If we turn our flaws to strengths we will conquer anything. We already have conquered so much.

My Story

Author's Note: I am not doing this to be vain in any sense of the word, but to inspire others. Everyone has some story that can be used to inspire people and I want to share mine. I hold my heroes in high regards because they (whether they be my mom or a former U.S. President like JFK, Eisenhower  or Reagan) inspire me and I, at my young age of 18, want to inspire others too! Also, May is Pediatric Stroke Awareness Month so I want to share this.

I was born on July 17th 1995 in Atlanta, Georgia. My story really starts before that in May of that year when an automobile accident my mom was in changed my life. Of course I wasn't born yet, but that event would be central to a story that I have to tell. Sad part aside, the doctors attending to my mom were clever enough to figure out that some damage had been done to me that had caused a bleed in the brain. I'm not certain what kind/how severe it was but I'd like to know one day for reference's sake.

They ran a lot of tests and threw out estimations of what the affects of the stroke I had would be. The thing about strokes is that you never know how they'll affect someone for certain. I've read tons of stories of kids who had strokes way worse than me. So in a way, I really lucked out. That said, when I was finally born I was diagnosed with left hemiparesis (Hemiparesis is a Greek term for one sided weakness), hydrocephalus (again throwing some Greek in, hydrocephalus means water on the brain), and visual problems.

I started a therapy regime, of which I don't recall much, that lasted from age six months to about eleven or twelve years old (maybe thirteen at the latest). We had me go to clinics, and even had therapists come to our house a few times a week. I wore foot braces called AFOs and hand splints. Therapy wasn't exactly daunting to me; some of it was kind of fun like playing on the balance beam my dad built for me, or with the little red and yellow cars one of my therapists had or the "Reach for Edward" game at my last therapy center (a game which I have no further comment upon, because Edward was an Edward Cullen from Twilight I used to carry around back in the Twilight Craze days).

Visually, I've gotten tons better. I used to be legally blind- 20/200 vision, but now I'm sitting at about 20/50 which works fine with me. I wear glasses and misplace them just as often! In 1997 I had strabismus surgery and will most likely receive it again this summer (despite my innate hatred of medical professionals as a whole entity).

School passed normally for me and I never really had trouble with anything but math, but isn't that what calculators are for? I have had great friends whom I love dearly. This fall I will be attending Young Harris College to study English and Holocaust studies to get ready to work at a museum. When people ask why the Holocaust all I'll say is that I can connect with the stories of tragedy that ultimately ended well. I have a lot of fun exploring new things and going into them 110%!

I also love writing because it's a great creative outlet. Another reason I'm lucky to be a writer is that I can see my stories come alive in my head like films because I type them slowly (I type with my right index finger only, by the way) so that's REALLY COOL to me to slow down and watch a story unfold before my eyes. I have a book already self published and one being considered by Baen Books for publication.

No story, I think, would be complete without the love and support of my amazing family and friends. You all are everything to me and more.