I swore never to be silent whenever and wherever human beings endure suffering and humiliation.
Elie Wiesel
I'm shifting gears here a bit to talk about silence and the Holocaust for two reasons:
a) I'm working on an editing project with a woman whose father survived the Holocaust, yet never spoke about it.
b) How my husband and I communicate (or don't) about my own trauma is a big issue for us.
Typically, trauma survivors respond by either remaining silent or by speaking out. My son asked me if there's any in between. I'm sure there are. We're human and some people, such as Elie Weisel, have the eloquence and gifts to write and speak at length and convincingly of their experiences. Others, may not have such gifts and may speak out privately, to a therapist or trusted friend. Those who maintain silence, however, tend to do so more consistently. At least, the stories I've heard and read suggest that that is the case. A recent memoir, for example, A Century of Wisdom: Lessons from the Life of Alice Herz-Sommer, the World's Oldest Living Holocaust Survivor, had few lessons for me and the ones I did glean were not ones I would want to emulate. After the war, Alice emigrated to Israel and held informal musical concerts in her home. Anyone was welcome with the rule that "her visitors must never ask her questions about or speak of the Holocaust in her home. The years from the time they were deported by the Nazis until they arrived in Israel were not topics for conversations." (p. 32) When no less of a figure than Golda Meir asked Alice about her Holocaust experiences, she replied that, "I never talk about that time . . . I do not want my son to remember. I want his childhood to be happy." (p. 34)
You might think I am being mean-spirited about Alice and, perhaps, I am. However, research shows that silence can be destructive for the children of Holocaust survivors and other trauma survivors. See the article below for more thoughts on this. On the other hand, as Judith Herman (the author of Trauma and Recovery) says, "Because reliving a traumatic experience provokes such emotional distress, traumatized people go to great lengths to avoid it." To speak about something, makes it real. This may be much too painful for some people to bear and, as someone who lost a lot but not as much as Alice Herz-Sommer, I understand that "making it real," by speaking can be tremendously difficult. So whether Alice was protecting herself or her son isn't clear. Whatever the case, she clearly led a long and happy life after surviving, which is a sort of miracle. I don't begrudge her that long, happy life. I do wonder, however, how she could go forward as though her past were a blank. See the article below for more thoughts on how silence can be harmful:
Australia has the second highest number of aging Holocaust survivors in the world. Many nursing homes and old-age facilities are helping aging survivors cope with the painful memories of the past and honor them through special programs and protocols.
Last thoughts: people will try to silence you if you are a trauma survivor, so why silence yourself? The truth is that few people can face the hard truths of such events and, in the case of the woman whom I'm helping with her manuscript, her husband and sons no longer want to hear about what they call her "obsession." In some ways, I understand this. In other ways, since I have myself survived trauma, I have trouble understanding how a non-trauma survivor feels when hearing about trauma and how I can communicate with them so that they can hear. Maybe I can't. If so, that, too, will be very sad. Tomorrow, my husband and I have our first couples counselling session and I'm sure this issue of trauma and silence will be one of the topics for discussion. (More on our session in a few days.)
What do you think? Should trauma survivors speak out or not? Why is it so hard for people to "hear" them?