Shut Up, White Man, and Teach!

I think I was traumatized by the course pack this week! Or maybe that's just the useless yet empowered and resentful white male in me talking. I probably shouldn't joke, but even a white boy like me should be able to find something useful to say about Trauma. Let me tell you about how I "traumatized" former students. Ah, I remember it like it was yesterday…

When I helped to teach a multi-curricular seventh grade Holocaust unit at North Putnam Middle School, I developed an introductory activity to help students understand the limits of what they could understand about the Holocaust. I informed the class that their grade would be based exclusively on their cooperation, listening carefully, and following directions --the first of which was that there would be no talking or noise throughout the entire activity. I instructed the class to stand up, push their chairs in, take off their shoes and place them on the desk in front of them. When the inevitable giggles arose, I made an example of a "disruptive" student by telling the student that he or she had failed and would sit out the rest of the activity. Then, continuing my dehumanizing tactics, I instructed students to empty out their pockets into their shoes and remove necklaces and rings and such. I was fortunate enough to have a book storage closet next to my room, which with the help of some generous lengths of cloth I created a long, narrow, dimly lit "boxcar" of a train.

Since this was an introductory activity, I typically could get the whole class jammed in there and sitting down while only kicking out or "failing" a few students. Once we were in the "boxcar", I asked them to close their eyes and I read them a scenario explaining that a new government with a raving lunatic of a leader had taken over the country and for their own safety and protection they were being taken to a safe place where their parents would join them later. This was all being done for the good of the country. I expressed sympathy for their confusion, however, and allowed them to write a quick note that I would make sure was delivered. The catch was that the train was leaving soon, and they would have only a few minutes to write if they wanted their messages delivered. I then tossed at them a few pieces of scrap paper and the crappiest pencils that I had gathered all year from the floor of my classroom.

The clatter of the writing materials hitting the floor and my blank expression had most of them imaging that I was the meanest son of a bitch that ever lived, especially when they realized that there weren't enough materials for everyone and I wouldn't respond to their gestures to supply more. Sometimes students would tear what little paper they had in half or share a pencil stub with a fellow student if it even had lead in it. Other times they'd sit there just looking frustrated by the situation. After a few minutes of writing, I informed them that they had exactly thirty seconds to gather all of the "letters" and pencils in a tidy pile at my feet if they wanted the messages delivered. I then counted down from thirty, skipping a few numbers along the way, and watched them scramble. They always made it on time.

After we returned to the classroom and they put clothing and jewelry back on, we discussed what they already knew about the Holocaust. Of course they had heard some things from upperclassmen or had read a little about it. We discussed the similarities (you probably noticed a few ☺) between our activity and what really happened; but more importantly, we pointed out the differences. I usually got discussion around to the point where they agreed that even if I laid tracks down behind the school and rented a train with boxcars, the experience still wouldn't even be close to authentic. We could never recreate it, and therefore, never truly understand what these people went through, and that was our starting point. The activity was also useful to help explain how something this unbelievable could happen. After all, I got them on the way to Auschwitz with very little trouble at all. I did allow the "failing" troublemakers to earn back their grades if they could guess what probably would've happened to if they acted out of line during a deportation, they always guessed it. ☺

Nice teaching story, Charlie, but do you have a point? Why, yes, I do. I believe in secondary witnessing. Sure language will fail to share the experience completely, it always has. Yet if we swim around in the related testimonies and media and text, how can we not glean at least some understanding of the event's complexities? How can we not see structures of injustice? Or structures of political erasure or redefinition? Can't we pull a few signifieds and 'roys' ☺ from the chains of meaning and come closer to 'an understanding' without putting on their shoes or lack of shoes? I don't think you have to be a member of a marginalized group of people to do this. To know what you're talking about, you have to dive into the subject, think, and be careful in how you present what you've learned: "According to this witnesss... Some survivors say..."

I also don't think a political agenda lurks behind all trauma instruction. When our team of teachers presented the Holocaust unit to students, we weren't trying to justify the state of Israel, we just wanted students to respect each other an treat each other better than they might normally be inclined. I don't think it was even politics with a lowercase 'p'. I enjoy Foucault's 'power wrestling analysis' as much as anyone, but at what point do we assume some agency in our local social constructions? When we finished the unit, I felt like we had oriented our students in a positive, productive, healthy, humanistic direction: lifting each other up instead of putting each other down. Amen.