Drexel President John Fry congratulates Ann Weiss on being chosen for “Service to the Community” Award, May 4, 2012

I have just returned from Israel where I was lucky enough to be in the country for three significant events, which take place in quick succession: Yom Hashoah (commemorating the Holocaust), Yom HaZikaron (commemorating fallen soldiers and victims of terrorism) and Yom Ha’atzmaut (celebrating Israel’s statehood 63 years ago). Add to that, a fourth significant event–the birth of my first daughter’s first baby! And as if that isn’t enough, just a ten weeks earlier, we celebrated the birth of my younger daughter’s first baby! Both Rebecca and Julia had little boys and both named their sons after my father, of blessed memory.

Leo in Chicago with his dad, Brian

Yehuda Leib in Jerusalem with his dad, Chaim Dovid

This is a time of both joy and sorrow, absence and presence. In Israel, the formal ceremony commemorating the Holocaust began at dusk, with speeches by Shimon Peres, Benjamin Netanyahu, and with flames punctuating the darkness lit by survivors whose moving stories were told in video format. The huge opening flame was lit by Chief Rabbi of Tel Aviv, Reb Israel Meir Lau, himself a child during the Holocaust, whose miraculous story is as remarkable as his life. His father, who died in Treblinka, was the last Chief Rabbi of their Polish town; and Rabbi Lau is the 38th generation of rabbis in his family, with his sons following the tradition, making it now the 39th!

Next we marked Yom HaZikaron, which remembers not only soldiers who have fallen in battle, but also those many victims of terrorist attacks who have died. It is extraordinary to witness a whole country stop at the exact moment on the stroke of 11 a.m. as a siren sounds. All traffic stops; taxis screech to a halt, and people throughout the country–I was in Jerusalem at the moment–stand in silent respect for the memory of those who have died. In the United States, it would be as if all traffic on Times Square stopped at the same moment, and every driver got out of the car to stand in the street in silence. This is what I witnessed.

And then, as suddenly as it started, that’s just how suddenly it ended. The siren sounded and the throbbing pace of the city resumed. People got back in their cars; pedestrians walked, merchants went back to business–and life began again.

So too on the personal level. As I hold both little boys–each one so sweet and so wondrous–I cannot help but think what this miracle would have meant to my parents. New life is ALWAYS a miracle, but in the case of Holocaust families where there have been so many family members killed, such new life might have an extra measure of gratitude.

My daughters, Julia and Rebecca, were my parents’ only grandchildren and although geographic miles separated us, the fact is that nothing separated us in our hearts. The sun rose and set by Julia and Rebecca for my parents (If I’m honest, I’d have to admit, the same was true for my sister and me, as well).

I come from a family of many losses–and yet, we are still here. And as I see my daughters who are so wonderful and natural and gentle and loving (their husbands too) with their babies, and I am ever so grateful to witness this cycle of life repeating itself. When I look into the luminescent eyes of both Leo and his cousin, Yehuda, the generations that came before feel almost palpable. And even if my parents never held either baby, I can feel both their absence AND their presence in this time of joy and in this time of creation, and I feel the sense of being blessed, truly blessed.

The media giant whose famous ’64 Daisy ad is cited as a primary example–Tony Schwartz–was my mentor in grad school. And it was from him that I learned many important lessons. Here is one more.

[Following excerpted from article by Angela Martinez published in The Lamp/Projects on Media on Feb. 8, 2012]

Is Media Literacy the Study of Nothing?

 

I’ve been wondering–what makes media literacy such a powerful and tricky practice?

That’s when I realized that being media literate involves a whole lot of nothing. Literally, no thing. I don’t mean in a Buddhist “Everything is no thing” kind of way. (I wouldn’t go from zero to zen on our first blog trip together.) It’s that reading media messages requires noticing what’s not the thing we’re supposed to be noticing. What are you not seeing, hearing, reading? Who’s been left out? Or at least pushed to the sidelines? It’s much like the concept of negative space in art which… [is] “the area around the primary objects in a work of art is known…, while the space occupied by the primary objects is known as positive space” [Getty Museum].

In this iconic 1964 Lyndon B. Johnson presidential campaign commercial, the camera is trained on a little girl counting the petals of a daisy she’s plucking. The negative space here is the sky around her head, possibly also the trees and flowers. Since the girl takes up much of the positive space, she’s more important than anything else in the frame. Now if we go a step further in identifying the negative space, we could say it includes adults, the city, all that isn’t children or nature. Take that one step further and consider what children and nature mean: purity, innocence, goodness, that which we want to protect.

Still from the 1964 Lyndon Johnson campaign ‘daisy ad,’ created by Tony Schwartz

So what is not in the picture increases the importance, and the value, of what is in the picture. Once she’s counted to ten (not exactly in order, but she’s multi-tasking so we’ll cut her some slack), a male voice begins an eerily familiar countdown. The camera zooms into the girl’s eye and dissolves into the harrowing silhouette of a mushroom cloud. While the explosion is the primary object in that frame, it’s contrasted with the primary object first established–the simple sweetness of a little girl in a field of daisies, the picture of innocence, peace, hope. Even without the soundbites of Lyndon B. Johnson and narration giving the political context, the message is clear. Daisy girl, and those who prioritize her: good; atom bomb, and the threat of nuclear war: way bad.

In a mass media universe, the primary objects tend to be the people, ideas and practices that align with the dominant culture. In this case, a little white girl picking daisies illustrates purity and innocence. Now, what if this little girl was black? Or in a wheelchair? Would we only think “innocent” or would we also think “poor” or “helpless?” And how might that influence the impact of the message?

And whereas in artistic terms, the “negative” in “negative space” doesn’t necessarily mean derogatory, in a mass media context, by repeatedly making someone or something missing or secondary, we convey that the person or thing is less valuable, less desirable, or just doesn’t belong.

Until we acknowledge what’s missing in the messages and images we encounter every day, those people, ideas and practices will remain invisible and less than. The result? Those who are unrepresented must work harder to become empowered to take up space in their own lives and communities….

So perhaps the first step is in our imaginations, and in our willingness to put on media-literate goggles and ask, “What’s the primary object here? Why should that occupy the ‘positive’ as opposed to the ‘negative’ space? What makes it more important than what’s left out or secondary?” It’s when we start asking these questions that we liberate our minds. By questioning what’s given, considering whether we agree or disagree, deciding whether these values support the world we desire, or help us wake up to what’s important, we can imagine alternatives that don’t yet exist. We can find the inspiration and the courage to take action in some way: to voice dissent, demand different versions of our world than what we see in the media, become more empowered members in our communities.

Angela Martenez is a non-fiction writer, documentary maker and community mediator. Follow her on Twitter: @AngelaMartenez

Whether we look at pre-war photos of Jews deported to Auschwitz, or photos of others who need help, it is important to ‘see’ not only what is being highlighted, but also what is not being shown. In the work of EYES FROM THE ASHES EDUCATIONAL FOUNDATION, and in my seminars, exhibitions and speeches, I’ve tried to give the most human view of this most inhuman of histories. It is with this perspective of imagining and working toward a different, and more just, world, that we help others — especially those who reside in the absences, in the ‘negative unseen spaces’– to become more visible, more empowered, more seen, as we together create a world where justice prevails.

Here’s to good things in your life, and to hope of creating more,

Ann Weiss

October 2011

Twenty-five years.
It’s been quarter of a century since I first saw these photos found at Auschwitz.

October 1986. I was on a special trip to Eastern Europe, then still under Communist control, when I got separated from the group. Auschwitz had already been closed for the day, and I was alone. Hoping to find my group, I frantically began to run from building to building, searching, terrified, trying to find anyone alive in this ‘Citadel of Death,’ as my friend, survivor Henry Skorr called it.

When an Auschwitz employee motioning with a finger, I entered a locked room, and saw beautiful photos carried into Auschwitz by those deported there.

These photos were to change my life…I just didn’t know it yet.

Twenty-five years ago, if someone said I would still be thinking about these Auschwitz photos–let alone researching their stories, teaching about them and almost ‘living’ with them–well frankly, I would have thought them insane.

Yet here I am. And here you are.

It is now many stories, many lives, many years later, and new research continues to emerge, just as new minds continue to be opened.

I believe that, together, we can make a difference by learning the history and remembering the lives–but not only remembering–by making sure that our knowledge links memory to action. I am hopeful, even confident, that together in our small and big ways, as individuals and as groups, we can work toward creating a world of tolerance, a world of justice, a world of hope. At the conclusion of a Tolerance Seminar I taught in Cyprus to Palestinian and Israeli educators, an Israeli superintendent of schools corrected me when I spoke about ‘Teaching Tolerance in the Classroom” and said, “No, Tolerance is not enough. We must go further; we must work to create a world of love.

To that, I can only say, Amen.

Ann Weiss, Director, Eyes from the Ashes Foundation

It’s been close to 25 years since I first saw these photos from Auschwitz, a quarter century since my eyes were opened. Then, alongside the all too familiar images of brutalized, skeletal dead Jews, for the first time, it was in October 1986 when I saw the pictures Jews brought to Auschwitz for their own remembering–the simple, vibrant images of what they did and how they looked when they were simply living their lives. It changed my world.

And judging from the response of many others who have seen my film, exhibition or book, or heard my presentations over these past twenty-five years, these photos have been a revelation to others as well.

This summer is a good time to pause and look back at recent highlights.

ATLANTA

At Emory last fall, we exhibited photos all over Emory’s campus and I participated in programs at Center for Ethics (with Paul Wolpe and staff)

at exhibition premiere at Visual Arts Gallery (here photos are being set up),

Here is audience at the gallery, before I began a walking tour of the photos.

My talk was scheduled by Emory to take place

on same day that the Dalai Lama was also speaking.

CINCINNATI

On Yom Hashoah, for Holocaust Remembrance Day, I was honored to speak in Cincinnati at the invitation of The Center for Holocaust and Humanity Education. It was a beautiful program, complete with moving survivor accounts and performance by the famed Cincinnati Boys Choir.

     

And before I left Cincinnati, I spoke to a well-informed high school audience, whose superintendent, history department head, and principal are pictured below, left to right, together with Sarah Weiss (no relation), Executive Director of the Center. I taught a session to students on history, culture and humanity, featuring stories and photos from the collection.

I’d like to mention that this school district is quite impressive; despite dreadful budget cuts and very little financial support for the school, these students regularly score among the highest in the area on standardized tests. Credit goes to the students, of course, but also to tremendous dedication of the teaching staff, principal and superintendent who expect, and will accept nothing less than, students’ best efforts–which they give!

     

EUGENE, OREGON

Directly from Ohio,I flew to Oregon, where we premiered The Last Album photo exhibition in a new way at the Downtown Initiative for the Visual Arts (DIVA): only half of the collection was premiered from May-June, and because of the size of the collection, the second half was not shown until July, which created an opportunity for a second premiere. Because of community support, the exhibition has been held over until August.

     

Eugene City Art Walk chose several galleries in town to spotlight–and ours was one!

     

I spoke at an urban high school on Cinquo de Mayo, where students reacted privately after my presentation. One young woman approached me in the courtyard, where a mariachi student band was performing, and pinatas were hung. She asked, “What do you feel when you look at these pictures?” Being an educator, I asked her, “What do YOU feel?”

     

Her answer was simple and unforgettable: “I can feel the way they felt.”

Finally, when I was in Eugene, I met Debbie Strochlic, who recognized her father’s photograph in my collection. She told me about the man her father was, shared stories about him and showed me a number of his documents. Together we co-created a new section of the exhibition, for the Eugene premiere.

With gratitude and appreciation, Eyes from the Ashes moves into our twenty-fifth year…and looks forward to more, much more!

Ann Weiss, Director

As I embark on a round of speeches honoring the memory of the Holocaust, and millions of innocent people whose lives were extinguished, I am reminded that, each time we remember, it is as if that extinguished life has presence once again for us.

Three developments to report: 1-New Identification, 2-Students look at old photos in new way, and 3-Chagall and my mom.

1-New Identification
I am pleased to report a new identification has been made! This event becomes rarer and rarer, as we lose more and more of the primary witnesses to the Holocaust. Quite remarkably in, of all places, Eugene, Oregon, the daughter of survivor Karol (Carl) Strochlic has identified her father, of blessed memory! Although his photo has been seen before—because he was a close friend of the Cukierman Family, famed for their popular pastry shop and bakery in Bedzin, Poland, with this family featured in my book, The Last Album, it was not until daughter Debi recognized her father’s photo in web publicity for my speech at Eugene’s Downtown Initiative for the Visual Arts, that we now have a name for this face—and a story to go with it.

Here is Karol, on left, with his friend Binim Cukierman and another friend.

And here, in this orchestra photo, again on left, next to Binim, is another view of Karol (3rd from left, first row orchestra). You can look forward to more info about Karol, once his family and I have a chance to talk further.

Because we have lost so many survivors, it is a special thrill to find one more name, to preserve one more story, and to restore a photo to one more family.

2-Students look at old photos in new way
I have just completed a new seminar with students at the Saligman Middle School in which, after discussing photos Jews brought to Auschwitz-Birkenau, photos that were most meaningful to them, students in grades 6-8, chose photos from their own lives that were most meaningful to them. It was a thought-provoking experience for all, as students decided, not only what was important to them, but why this photo had significance to them—and what kind of memories were triggered by the photo they chose. See the Education section for the questions asked—And at a later date, I will share a selection of their reflections, omitting students’ names, of course.

3-Chagall and my mom
You may be wondering what Chagall has to do with my mom—and so was I, that is, until recently. At the Philadelphia Museum of Art, we are currently mounting a fantastic exhibit, curated by Michael Taylor, who is the Muriel and Philip Berman Curator of Modern Art, featuring not only Chagall, but artists in his Paris circle—many of whom were Jewish ex-patriots trying to escape anti-Semitism in their native homes of Russia and Eastern Europe. The show is quite splendid, and it would be worthwhile to discuss many of the pieces, but here, there is time for only one: Chagall’s rendition of ‘Purim’ and what it has to do with my mom.

In ‘Purim’ painting, against a field of vibrant red-orange, Chagall depicts several villagers carrying baked goods to friends and family. This practice of bringing ‘sh’lach manos’ –delicious baked goods, including Hamantashen ( a three sided pastry filled with fruit—prunes, apricot, cherry and the like)—is so perfectly described in my mom’s unpublished memoir that it has become part of research notes that now accompany Chagall’s exhibit. If someone would like to read the ‘Purim’ excerpt of my mom’s memoir, you need only write to me at: ann@thelastalbum.org and I will be pleased to send it to you.

As we watch the world come into bloom, I wish you all a time of blooming inside yourself that parallels, in some way, Nature’s glorious opening all around us.

Wishing you well,
Ann Weiss

As I depart for Israel for the most wonderful reason, my daughter’s wedding, I am struck by the enormous contrast between my life and the life of so many others in this region, the contrast between this trip and the many trips I have taken before to this same tiny, precious, contested piece of real estate.

I am going to the Mideast, one of the most troubled regions on earth. It’s a place I’ve gone many times before, sometimes to give speeches. Over the years, I’ve given many presentations and film screenings at the world’s first Holocaust museum, Yad Vashem, and to other places as well, like Pardes and other centers of learning. Sometimes to do educational consulting for UNESCO, as when I was brought to Egypt to share educational practices and strategies with countries of the Gulf Arab State: Egypt, Saudi Arabia, Bahrain, Gulf Arab Emirates, Kuwait, Qatar, so many of which we see in the news today, struggling for freedom, fighting for a new kind of democracy in a new kind of way.

Sometimes I’ve gone to the region to do interviews about peace, or the yearning for peace, or land, or hope. The settlement I know best is one in the West Bank, called Aida (pronounced like the woman’s name Ida) where I have a friend, who introduces me to others. For them, I am “the Jew” representing all Jews. When I once taught a class of Palestinian children in the West Bank, a ten year old boy raised his hand to ask me, “Why does everybody in the world hate us?” His question was telling. Though not true, his perception is important to note.

Finally and most of the time, over the course of many years and many trips, I’ve gone to Israel to do research, conduct interviews and hear the stories, first of the Ethiopian Jews airlifted out of Sudan in “Operation Moses” and then, and for a quarter of a century, the stories of so many Shoah survivors who, after liberation from Nazi slave labor and death camps, migrated to the new state of Israel with hope and despair, despair at what, and whom, they had been lost; hope to begin again.

Life was hard, especially in those early days, when there was no luxury of time to ruminate, they just had to try and survive, and so they began life again. They had no choice; with their old lives destroyed, they began new lives in far flung places like Australia (where it was made easy for survivors to come), to America, (where it was made less easy to gain entrance), and to places all over the world.

But it was the survivors I met in Israel who had a sense of destiny quite unlike any others I have met, they seemed to understand that they were building not only their lives, but building a sense of history as well, and so they were.

Now I return, not to work, but to celebrate. Almost all the survivors I’ve known, almost all the survivors who have trusted me with their stories and their memories, almost all of these friends are now gone. And yet they live on, in the stories they’ve shared with me, and in their stories I share with others.

As I dance at my daughter’s wedding, and as we drink “L’chaim/To Life”, I’ll offer a special toast to all those who have come before me, to all those still struggling for freedom and democracy, and to the promise of a new future of peace and of hope, as I see it radiate in the shining light of my daughter’s and groom’s eyes.

She says of him, “He inspires me to be more of a human being.” And he says of her, “She inspires me to be more of a human being.”

Let us, in this time of painful struggle throughout the world, and particularly in this region of the world, as Libya and Egypt and country after country struggle to define itself anew, let us, too, as my daughter and her groom are doing, “be inspired to be more of a human being” as well.

My blessings go to them. My blessings go to all of us. Amen.

Ann

Ann Weiss speaking at Barnes and Noble,2010

Dear Friends,

In 2011, there will be an expansion of projects already begun, as well as initiation of new projects and new directions.

A few highlights:

In January, I will travel to Paris to participate in a tremendously substantive Holocaust conference, hosted by Karel Fracapane and the French Memorial to the Shoah. Included will be experts from all over Europe, including famed historian/lawyer/author Serge Klarsfeld and noted documentary filmmaker Edward Serotta, founder of Centropa, as well as participants from Israel, South Africa, Australia and all over America – it will truly be an international gathering of good people discussing important topics.

And since my first book, The Last Album (or rather Le Dernier Album), has a French translation, it is important for me to participate.

During January, February and March 2011, Eyes from the Ashes photo exhibition will be extended in Atlanta, and mounted in a new (non-academic), more community-accessible venue, since the outpouring of response when the exhibition was mounted at Emory last year. Now, at Atlanta’s JCC, there will be a new focus on the vibrancy of pre-war European life with new stories resulting from new research, to be shared.

In addition, in March/April, there will be much international travel – both to Jerusalem where my daughter will be getting married and elsewhere in Israel where I connect with survivors I have interviewed.

And in April, I will travel to the Himalayas (Nepal), where I participate in an effort to help impoverished children secure better lives. Though it seems like a stretch – to go from Auschwitz to Katmandu – there is a thread that unites everything I do. Whether I am teaching a class at Emory University or at Epstein School (as I have just done and will soon be doing) or traveling across the world to cast a spotlight on the plight of children at great risk, I see it as part of a continuum.

My participation in this effort stems from a simple impulse – We must not abandon those in desperate need of help – as the Jews in WWII were so bitterly abandoned [though please note that I am NOT EQUATING poverty in troubled areas with murder during the Holocaust]. I believe that when we can do something to help, we are compelled to do so. Please note: My efforts will continue to include others in need, as time progresses – but in addition to my work with survivors, my work with student and adult groups in the Americas, to preserve memory and link memory to action, I feel a great need to reach out to help others, both domestically and abroad.

We are all here for a brief time on earth, some briefer than others. The children in the Holocaust had virtually no chance to live. The children in impoverished countries and in war-torn regions have, in a different but still important way, no real chance to live. Though they may breathe, they do not thrive. Over these next few years, I will travel to areas where needs are great and where, perhaps in some small way, my participation can help – to shed light, to help educate, to relieve hopelessness, in short, to alleviate even one person’s suffering in some way, no matter how small.

Finally, in joining forces with other groups, organizations and individuals, I am hoping to multiply the efforts that one person can make.

I look forward to hearing your thoughts, and I invite your participation in these expanded efforts – either by joining me with your presence or with your presents, i.e. presents; as in your donations to Eyes from the Ashes Educational Foundation.

I wish you all a year of fulfillment, with vision for what matters to you and a sense of how to attain it, and for all of us, a world of peace.

With warmest wishes and gratitude for your beautiful support,

Ann Weiss

Dear Friends,

I’ve just returned from a remarkable set of experiences at Emory in Atlanta, Georgia, where we did something we’ve never done before. Instead of one venue, here at Emory, thanks to the enthusiasm of many university departments and Paul Wolpe’s vision of the Center for Ethics, we installed The Last Album: Eyes from the Ashes of Auschwitz-Birkenau photo exhibition in FIVE locations around the Emory campus! And together with the installations – which were reconfigured anew for each venue – we held programs and seminars around Emory’s campus, reaching thousands of new eyes, thousands of new hearts. In addition, Carlton Mackey and Tanya Anderson are making a documentary film of my time at Emory.

Creative Conversations, which were the brainchild of the Emory University’s Rosemary Magee, were filmed and are available for anyone to view on iTunes, under ‘iTunesu’ with the ‘u’ for university. Once you get to the list of colleges participating, just scroll to Emory and you’ll be able to download my discussions, together with those of playwright Edward Albee, Composer Philip Glass and the like. I feel quite honored to have been included.

I taught classes on campus to Deborah Lipstadt and Angelika Bammer’s Holocaust Memoir students; I spoke and displayed photos to music composed in concentration camps, performed by members of the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra (titled ‘Creativity in Captivity’), and I did exhibition premieres and talks all over campus. Randy Fullerton, of the Center of Creativity and the Arts, had his students write reactions to the photos.

And my last visit to Emory was coordinated to coincide with the visit of the Dalai Lama and Chief Rabbi Jonathan Sacks of London. At the conclusion of my last seminar, a German student made this final comment: “Dr. Weiss, your message to us is the same as the Dalai Lama’s.” At the time, I was speaking about compassion and what we must do as human beings to help one another, against the backdrop of the Holocaust and what the world did not do.

My time at Emory has been quite extraordinary, and a number of joint projects are being planned for continuation, about which I will write more in the future. But for now, I want to highlight one event, and one 13-year-old Jack Schneider, who made it happen.

I met Jack on my September visit, when he attended my first talk on campus with his mom. Jack then returned to every public program I gave, and Jack felt, because he had been so deeply affected by the experience, that his whole class should be able to see my photos. He showed my book at his school, and because of Jack’s commitment – not just to memory, but to translating memory into action – Jack Schneider arranged a field trip of his whole 8th grade class to Emory’s Visual Arts Gallery!! No small feat under any circumstances, and even more impressive for a junior high school student to arrange!

See these great photos of Jack’s Epstein School 8th grade class who came to Emory’s Visual Arts Gallery and were taught by Visual Arts Chair, Jason Francisco and Curator Mary Catherine Johnson.

I can’t help but think, especially at this time of political acrimony, how lucky we would be as a society to have a population comprised of exceptional people like 13-year-old Jack, who saw what he felt should be done, and then found a way to do it!

Thank you, Jack. Thank you all. You give me hope.

With warmest wishes, Ann

Fifty middle school students and their teachers from The Epstein School visited the Emory Visual Arts Gallery today to experience and write about Ann Weiss’s exhibition The Last Album: Eyes from the Ashes of Auschwitz-Birkenau. Visual Arts chair Jason Francisco provided historical and artistic contexts for the photographs, then the students wrote essays about the images that were most meaningful to them.

If you want to find me this fall, just come to Emory University! ‘ve been to Atlanta multiple times this fall, under the auspices of the Center for Ethics, to mount my photo exhibition as it has never been mounted before (Instead of one venue, we have it simultaneously mounted in five!!!), with many programs and initiatives underway.

And for this event, I re-wrote the whole exhibition to reflect new research and new discoveries. In mid-September, this newly organized photo exhibition was premiered at Emory’s Center for Ethics, the Medical School, the Interfaith Cannon Chapel, and the performance space of the Upper Lobby and Main Lobby of the beautiful Schwartz Center, with simultaneous exhibition openings throughout campus from 4-7 p.m. At 5:00 p.m., I did a special gallery talk at the Visual Arts Gallery, with an audience that lined the whole length of the exhibition. Then I stopped just in time to begin an hour-long National Public Radio interview, which stopped at 7:15 because the next audience had been patiently waiting at the Center for Ethics for the premier and presentation, which was to have started at 7. Paul Root Wolpe, Director of the Center for Ethics, introduced me and gave background on my work before we began my talk and a multi-media presentation.

The second trip to Emory featured a world premiere – combining my photos with music composed in the concentration camps – titled Creativity in Captivity – The music which was researched by musicologist, Francesco Lotoro, who arrived from Italy to share the stage with me, and members of the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra, who performed. The musical pieces were accompanied by archival photos from my Eyes from the Ashes collection, and excitement was so great that tickets were completely gone several weeks in advance of the program. I’ve heard of “sold out” for rock concerts, but not often for Holocaust programs.

There are a host of other appearances as well, including classes I will teach at Emory’s medical school and arts and sciences, as well as two filmed interviews, in the style of James Lipton and Inside the Actor’s Studio. The first will have Jason Francisco, head of the Art Department and photographer himself, as the interlocutor; the second filmed discussion will have questions posed by Professors Deborah Lipstadt and Agelika Bammer, as well as their well-informed students of Holocaust Memory. These filmed discussions will be available nationally on itunes u for anyone to download and watch.

The third trip to Emory will take place in October, to coincide with the visit of His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama, with presentations by the Dalai Lama on Happiness and Creativity on October 17-19. He will be joined by Richard Gere, Alice Walker and London’s (former) Chief Rabbi Jonathan Sacks. In conjunction with the Dalai Lama’s visit, I will be doing a special program on October 17th at Emory’s Visual Arts Gallery, emphasizing elements of compassion and generosity exhibited in these precious photos.

On a personal note, one of my favorite people in the world, a man who became like a second father to me, died very suddenly a few weeks ago, Henry Skorr. In his memory and in his honor, I dedicate all the work I am doing at Emory.

Such wonderful times and such wonderful people!

Let me introduce you to a few who have populated my world lately.

COLLEAGUES and CONFERENCES

At the annual conference of Association of Holocaust Organizations, I saw colleagues with whom I’ve worked for many years. Together with fine academic presentations, I had the great pleasure of seeing my friend and colleague, James Young, after many years. James, an expert on Memorials who was a principal consultant on the Berlin Memorial and now works on September 11th Memorial on site of the World Trade Center, wrote the beautiful Introduction to my book, The Last Album. It was wonderful to reconnect and catch up on our lives and on our respective work.

Together with other colleagues, I also saw Michael Berenbaum, who served as first Director of DC Holocaust Museum’s Research Institute. It was another nice reunion, since Michael was one of the first people to whom I showed Eyes from the Ashes photos almost 25 years ago.

STUDENTS

Together with other presentations in Denver and elsewhere, I did a small presentation for very young children in a Philadelphia religious school for Yom Hashoah. Instead of the graphic material usually presented (not by me, but often by others), the children and I spent our time talking about what life was like for Jewish children in pre-war Europe – aspects that were similar and aspects that were different from the children’s own lives. And then, on a tiny DVD screen, the children crowded around to examine pre-war photos from my collection. Though it was a modest little talk for very little children, their questions and comments made it clear that the impact of our time together was not insignificant.

SURVIVORS

Survivors hold a very special place in my heart and I have been the beneficiary of their stories, their memories, and their trust. In fact, it is to survivors – as well as those who did not survive – to whom I feel a deepest responsibility to continue to teach, research and share. But recently, I was privileged to accompany one of my dearest friends and treasured survivors, Henry Skorr from Kalisz, Poland, to a grand event honoring hundreds of survivors who live in the Philadelphia area. This day was not about research; it was just about celebrating life! Here I had the joy of seeing Henry (who recently had hip surgery) dance

and also had many wonderful reunions with survivors whom I interviewed these last twenty four years.

Here is Avraham Schnapper, who served as President of the Survivors’ Group in Philadelphia for many years. He was always considered a serious and very strong leader—now he has mellowed to such a degree that he can be described as charming and quite sweet.

And here is Itka Zygmatovicz, one of the survivors I admire most.

In our interview 15 years ago, Itka shared with me her story, as well as her wisdom. As a young girl, Itka witnessed the murder of her entire family. When she finished telling her devastating story, Itka explained to me, “I had a choice. Either I could be filled with hate or I could live with love.” And then Itka summarized her life’s philosophy: “Hate destroys and love creates.”

As we move through our lives, let us remember Itka’s wisdom and allow love, not hate, to inform, inspire and mark our lives.

Ann Weiss