In Memory of My Mother –Words Rather Than Silence by Debra H.
Goldstein
A few years
ago, a fellow writer asked me why many of my short stories, blogs and one of my
books had Jewish characters or Jewish themes. Before I could answer, she
confided that she was Jewish, too, but never mentioned that fact in any of her
writings. I asked her “Why?” and she replied she was afraid it might narrow her
readership. My immediate response was that I never thought of that in terms of
my works or any of the writings I’ve read by people of race, culture,
ethnicity, religion or sexual preference different than my own. In fact, my
reading and writing is deliberately diverse.
She disagreed
with me. I pitied her narrowmindedness and the wealth of things she was
missing. I also was disappointed by her silence.
My mother was
a Holocaust survivor. She came to the United States with her nine-year-old
brother when she was ten. Other than two uncles who lived in America, but
weren’t particularly welcoming to the two children, her entire extended family
was killed in the camps. Her parents, educated wealthy members of Vienna
society, never thought Hitler’s rhetoric would reach them. My grandfather had
medical, dental and rabbinical degrees although he practiced dentistry; they had
a box at the Opera House; and they owned numerous apartments. By the time my
grandparents realized they weren’t immune, they were lucky to get their
children out of Austria.
For two
non-English speaking children, adjustment was difficult, but they both learned
English, did well in school, and grew up to be responsible adults. They also
taught their children to be tolerant and to never be silent. They encouraged
their children to be anything they wanted, but to remember the importance of
honesty, caring, and being open-minded.
A few weeks
ago, a man filled with hatred and anti-Semitism, murdered Jews in cold blood at
the Tree of Life synagogue in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. During the past few
years, there have been murders in mosques, churches, bars, and on the street
simply because of hatred and animosity to other people’s religion, race,
gender, ethnicity, sexual preference, or cultural beliefs. We can think these
things are wrong, but if we stay silent in the face of these terrible acts and
the language that incites them, I believe we are guilty, too.
My mother
died four years ago on November 13. In her memory, I cannot be silent. Can you?
