Mom and I saw a play last night called ‘Here There Are Blueberries.’ You can certainly look the play up yourself, but I’m going to share with you my very rudimentary understanding of the plot and premise and purpose.
There are some opening bits, but basically, the play tells the story of an album of photographs that is eventually donated to the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum. The photographs are taken from the perspective of the officers and administrative personnel who worked at and for, or visited, Auschwitz-Birkenau, the Nazi concentration and extermination camp.
One of the discussions that is had by and amongst the individuals who are meant to be workers at the Museum, is whether or not it is appropriate to display these photographs as part of the Museum’s collection. The fear, explained by one of the Museum higher-ups, is that displaying the photos will somehow be counter to the objective of the Museum, which is to celebrate the memory and tell the story of those who suffered and/or were killed during the Holocaust. Furthermore, there is the notion that showing the photographs to Museum visitors will somehow have the effect of glorifying the Nazis and their supporters.
There were other really important issues that were discussed during the intense 90 minutes that we sat, rapt, and watched the story unfold, but it was this one that I got stuck on. Mostly because it was a primary area of focus, but also, because it’s something I’ve been pushing around my overcooked brain as of late. Perhaps you are wondering what issue I’m actually referring to, as the issue I described above is somewhat unique to this story.
Is it though?
What if I described it differently for you? What if I told you that the issue is more so, how we begin to understand and accept the journey from “normalcy” into criminal or predator, or both? What if I told you that the real discussion is not whether it is appropriate to display photographs that bear the images of smiling men and women, all of whom worked for and led the Nazis, but rather, how we reconcile those cheerful individuals, reclining in sun beds at a “resort” that is a mere jump away from the place where over one million people were killed. The real point of contention is what turns an “average” human into a monster.
There were so many powerful lines from the play that stuck with me, many of which were a gut-punch in the moment, but I can’t repeat at present. One that really sat with me sounded something like: “all genocide begins with words, not actions.”
And it does, doesn’t it?
Vulnerability. Hard times. Challenges. Obstacles. Blame. Propaganda. Relentless reinforcement of a false narrative. Suggestions for how to deal with the problem. To eliminate the issue. To eradicate the source(s). Justifications. Excuses. Lies. Misremembrance.
And although I don’t really know, it wouldn’t surprise me if every single incident of genocide or suggested genocide, began with denial. Of course, that’s not the stated objective. Obviously, the thought is just to make things better. Solve. Make nicer. We just want things to trend in an opportune direction, and this feels like a good place to start.
Britannica defines genocide as follows: “the deliberate and systematic destruction of a group of people because of their ethnicity, nationality, religion, or race. The term, derived from the Greek genos (“race,” “tribe,” or “nation”) and the Latin cide (“killing”), was coined by Raphael Lemkin, a Polish-born jurist who served as an adviser to the U.S. Department of War during World War II.”
It might be a good time to tell you that this entire piece is not going to be about genocide. I’m not educated enough on the topic, yet. I do want to be, and that’s something I’m exploring, but I’m not quite there.
Why am I sharing the definition, then? Well, because I want to make a point, and I like back-up.
The definition of genocide, which varies from place to place, but seems to carry the same general idea everywhere, suggests that a group of individuals has been identified as undesirable by another group, and that other group has taken it upon themselves to rid the world of them. But, in my experience, the identification of someone as undesirable is not just tied to that thing that makes them part of the group (i.e. religion) but there is a causative tie, as well. Now maybe you are thinking that the cause is created for the purpose of supporting the hatred and desire to eliminate, in my mind, it’s all a circular reference.
Meaning, I am blaming a group for ‘x’ to justify their destruction and erasure and also, to continue garnering support for such action, I’m going to continuously reinforce this message of blame.
I’m speaking quite esoterically, so let me ground this a bit.
Where the Holocaust is concerned, the first bit of narrative that I’m aware of was the notion that World War I was lost and Germany suffered, and continued to suffer, so egregiously because of the Jewish people. The other bits of hateful and insane rhetoric emerged as the messaging was refined. And we still bear witness to some of the remnants of that today, don’t we? Don’t we still hear threads of Nazi messaging in modern-day antisemitism and other white supremacy movements? I refuse to regurgitate the verbiage that is so oft used in this context, but I think you know it, well.
Sadly, a good deal of the same language and a similar approach is taken with other persecuted groups of individuals. Members of the LGBTQ+ community, BIPOC people, immigrants, and so on and so forth. It’s a tired tale so far as I’m concerned, but one that survives.
Anyway, I’ve already written too much to have not gotten to my point. What’s my agenda?
The most disturbing part of the photographs, many of which they showed during the play, was the apparent normalcy of the individuals who participated in the systemic destruction of the Jewish people and other so-called undesirables at that time. Of course, sometimes you cannot tell the poison that exists within a person from looking at their outsides (don’t judge a book and all that), but most of the men and women in those photos looked SO average. They looked something a bit more disturbing than average. They looked happy. At peace. Reconciled. There were no furrowed eyebrows or dark circles under their eyes. Their hands were not clasped in the kind of tight manner that renders knuckles white and leaves small, semi-circular indents on the skin. Their heads were not hung in shame.
They were smiling. With teeth. Their eyes were shiny and almost flirtatious in some images. In other photos, they were in repose, appearing relaxed and comfortable.
Of course, I don’t know anything behind the scenes, but at first glance, the sentiment is disturbing, at best.
So yeah, I guess my point is don’t underestimate a misguided and frustrated and angry and vulnerable public. People are unhappy right now. Things are challenging for most. Expensive. Messy. Overwhelming. These factors make for a prime opportunity to hate and destroy and yes, eliminate.
Don’t be paralyzed with fear. Don’t shrink.
Now is the time to have a voice. Now is the time to pay attention. Now is the time to support those who advocate for good, and not destruction. Now is the time to vote. Now is the time to educate.
Now is the time to breathe.
And whatever you do, don’t underestimate the unfathomable power of disgruntled average people.
Ever.
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