Category Archives: Heritage work

Southern Conference on Slavic Studies

18 Friday Mar 2016

Posted by in Anthropology, Cemeteries, Heritage work, Identity, Jewish Culture, Memory, Polish-Jewish Heritage, Polish-Jewish relations, Wronki

≈ Leave a comment

The Southern Conference on Slavic Studies has its annual meeting right here in Tuscaloosa starting today until March 19. Tomorrow, I will present a paper about my heritage work in Poland. Here is the abstract:

From Curbstones to Commemoration: Reincorporating the Memory of Jewish Life in a Polish Town

The figure of the Jew remains a multivalent symbol in Poland, resilient even in the face of the destruction of Jewish culture during the Holocaust and erasure of its traces during state socialism. My research on Jewish heritage asks what can be done with the fragments of Jewish culture that remain in Poland, sometimes hidden and sometimes in plain sight. And what value does such memory work have? The growth of interest in Jewish culture in Poland can be seen not just in major cities, but also in smaller communities throughout the country. I focus on one commemorative project in one Polish town to illustrate changing, though still contested, orientations toward the history of Jewish residence in Poland. Specifically, I examine the rescue of fragments of Jewish tombstones from a street curb where they rested for sixty years, and the decade-long effort of multiple stakeholders to return the stones to a place of commemoration. I argue that an essential component of the project was to reincorporate the history of Jews into the wider history of the town—a kind of making what was regarded as “other” (“obcy”) into something that is one’s own (swój). The Lapidarium of tombstones from the old Jewish cemetery in Wronki has literally become a place on the map, and has returned the memory of Jewish lives to town residents and visitors. The fragments of tombstones, historical sign, and commemorative marker reveal something about the past, even if it is just in an incomplete and shattered form. And they point toward the future—the possibilities that might emerge out of reassembling Jewish life in Poland.

In memory of the Jewish community that inhabited Wronki from 1507-1939. Lapidarium of tombstones from the destroyed Jewish cemeteries of Wronki
Lapidarium of Jewish Tombstones, Wronki
Lapidarium of Jewish Tombstones, Wronki
Stone offering on the monument at the lapidarium in Wronki

This is my first effort to make sense of one of the most inspiring heritage projects I witnessed while in Poland last year–the lapidarium of Jewish tombstones in Wronki. I describe the project as a collective representation–symbolic of an inclusive concept of Wronki history (and by extension Polish history). Jewish residents, although they are no longer present, nevertheless comprise an essential element of that history. As such, this new resting place for Jewish tombstones represents the return of the memory of Jews back into the center of town and the center of residents’ consciousness.

But more tomorrow–my panel is from 10:15-12 PM at the Embassy Suites in downtown Tuscaloosa.

Memory in Fragments: the talk at UA

31 Thursday Dec 2015

Posted by in Brześć Kujawski, Buk, Cemeteries, Family, Heritage work, Israel, Jewish Culture, Lutowiska, Memory, Poland, Polish Culture, Polish-Jewish Heritage, Polish-Jewish relations, Post-World War II, Poznan, Pre-World War II, Research Methodology, Skierniewice, Synagogues, World War II, Wronki, Włocławek

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

, ,

The lecture I gave at UA September 3, 2015 about my research during my Fulbright Fellowship is now available on vimeo. I’ve never seen myself lecture before. It’s a little unsettling. Still, here it is, flaws and all (for instance I know that Poland entered the European Union in 2004, even though I misspoke here).

I talk a little about the Fulbright Program–the kinds of grants available and some tips for applying.

It’s also a good introduction to my ideas about reassembling Jewish life: the strands that I’m following, what has been lost, what can be recovered, and how memory projects at sites throughout Poland intertwine with my own search for my family history. I hear echoes of some of the scholars I’ve read–Iwona Irwin Zarecka and Marianne Hirsch, as well as my sometime collaborator Malgosia Wosińska. There is no way to bring back what has been lost, but fragments of the past can be reassembled to form a new kind of life that allows for connection with what used to be and what yet might be.

Memory in Fragments: Reassembling Jewish Life in Poland

03 Thursday Sep 2015

Posted by in Anthropology, Heritage work, Jewish Culture, Memory, Poland, Polish-Jewish Heritage, Polish-Jewish relations

≈ Leave a comment

A summary of Dr. Marysia Galbraith’s year as a Fulbright Scholar in Poznan, Poland

September 3, 2015

Lloyd Hall 319

6:00 p.m.

Dr. Galbraith will also answer questions about the Fulbright Program and fellowship opportunities.

Former synagogue in Buk, Poland

Former synagogue in Buk, Poland

My research on Jewish heritage asks what can be done with the fragments of Jewish culture that remain in Poland, sometimes hidden and sometimes in plain sight? And what value does such memory work have? I explore these questions on two levels: the social level where I focus on what is actually being done with physical traces of Jewish culture in the absence of living Jewish communities, and on the personal level via the archeology of my own hidden Jewish ancestry. These fragments can reveal something about the past, even if it is just in an incomplete and shattered form. And they can point toward the future—the possibilities that might emerge out of traces of memory.

Island of remembrance: the Jewish cemetery in Piła

21 Tuesday Jul 2015

Posted by in Cemeteries, Heritage work, Memory, Piła

≈ Leave a comment

A fragment of the lecture I gave at the unveiling of the monument at the 17th century Jewish cemetery in Piła on June 2, 2015, translated into English:

Monument commemorating the Jewish cemetery in Piła

Monument commemorating the Jewish cemetery in Piła

What can be communicated through objects, and often just fragments of objects? What value do the broken mementos of the past have? Material remains of history can seem more and more distant from us. Preoccupied with our daily concerns, we rarely think them. The fragment of the Jewish cemetery in Piła, destroyed during the war, reminds us of earlier times of prosperity and peaceful coexistence among the city’s residents; it simultaneously reminds us of events that even today inspire anguish and opposition. It is understandable why people might try to forget painful memories. It might seem easier to look toward the future instead of back at the past. But reality is not so simple. Something connects us to the past, especially to tragic memories. They function below the level of consciousness and influence us in spite of our desire to forget.

A monument like this one on the remaining fragment of the Jewish cemetery in Piła is an expression not only of respect for the people buried in this place, but also a tool for focusing attention on what used to be. That life will never return, but recognizing its passage can serve as a reminder and a warning. A monument can help us establish a connection with the past and also with the future. It is impossible to think of the future without also thinking about the past. A monument invites us to learn about the history of this city and its residents. It encourages us to reflect on what remains—a fragment of the cemetery wall and several preserved tombstones. We can also have a dialog with nature as we stand under the oldest trees that were witnesses of the history of this place. This island of remembrance helps us connect with our humanity; it makes Piła a more beautiful city and its contemporary citizens better people. Standing in the preserved fragment of the cemetery, we remember all of the former residents of Piła who, like us, had their worries and dreams. From these memories, hope for a better future can emerge.

DSC06457

It is worth getting to know and understand what came before us so that we can understand ourselves better. The way we treat the tangible and intangible fragments of the city’s past communicates to those we associate with everyday, and to those who watch us from afar, including those who seek their own identity and roots.

When we listen to what fragments of the past have to tell us, the past comes alive. Fragments speak to us regardless of whether we try to remember or forget them. Although memories can cause us pain, the absence of memory can also wound us. This can happen when we close ourselves from the past and we don’t want to understand it. That is why it is better to remember and to try to understand the past as well as its influence on us. That is the only way we can heal the trauma of the horrors that transformed this place and so many other places like it.

Marked by a monument, this space functions differently than it did without the monument. The monument fills, however incompletely, the void left behind by loss. Left empty, the void could be interpreted as indifference, disrespect, and even a sign of hatred. A monument inspires memory work and contemplation. The cemetery has been returned to the map of the city and to the consciousness of its residents. It is once again a place for focusing on the experience of loss, and simultaneously on respect for the phenomenon of life. We are not alone. We share common feelings. Memory brings us closer to each other, making us a community despite our differences.

This translation is a little different from the Polish text. Even translating my own writing, some things are easier to express in one language than the other.

Americans in Lesko: Project Preservation

04 Saturday Jul 2015

Posted by in Cemeteries, Heritage work, Lesko

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

, ,

Sometimes things just fall into place better than could been planned. I got in touch with Arkadiusz Komski to discuss Jewish heritage work in Sanok. We met at the Słotki Domek Café in Lesko. In addition to being a wealth of knowledge about the history of Jews in the Sanok region, Arek told me that Rabbi Edward Boraz was scheduled to come with a group of Dartmouth students to clean up and inventory the Jewish cemetery in Lesko. I knew I needed to stay an extra day to meet them, and I’m glad I did.

Boraz has been at Dartmouth since 1998. As town rabbi, head of the campus Hillel, and professor in the medical school, he wears many hats. Also, for the past fifteen years, he has led a summer trip to a different town in Eastern Europe to clean up a Jewish cemetery (called Project Preservation). Students receive no academic credit for participating. Before the trip, they attend ten weekly seminars, and read and discuss a range of relevant literature. This year, they focused on the intellectual foundations for the Holocaust, and how science and medicine were used as tools to develop the techniques for mass murder.

The group spent about a week in Poland. They flew into Krakow, visited Auschwitz, the synagogue in Łańcut, and the death camp at Bełżec (where many Jews from the Lesko region were taken). Then they came to Lesko. They were scheduled to work about four days at the cemetery, with a day off for Shabbat. They also held a short Shabbat ceremony in the Lesko synagogue building.

When I met Boraz the night he arrived, I spoke more than I should have. He asks good questions, and is a good listener. He explained that he likes to hear peoples’ stories. Still, as an ethnographer, usually I’m the one who asks the questions and listens to peoples’ stories.

Ewa Bryła speaks with Marek Duszyński of MojeLesko.pl

Ewa Bryła, of the Carpathian Minority Heritage Association, speaks with Marek Duszyński of MojeLesko.pl

Rabbi Boraz says thanks to the help of Arek Komski, Ewa Bryła, and her brother Piotr, this is the fifth time he has returned to southeast Poland. They help coordinate all the logistics, bring equipment and people to help cut the grass, act as translators, and provide information about the region.

Meeting with Rabbi Boraz and his students seems like a fitting bookend to my year in Poland. When I arrived in Poland last August, I just missed them. In Lutowiska, I walked up the new steps they had built and through the gate they had mounted at the cemetery entrance. I followed in their footsteps along the paths through the cemetery and looked at the tombstones they had cleaned.

This year in Lesko, I chatted with the students before they began work and asked them what motivated them to sign up for the trip. About half were raised in Jewish households, some more reformed and some more conservative, while the rest were from a variety of backgrounds. Some grew up in neighborhoods with a lot of Jews, others with almost none. They had various levels of familiarity with the history of European Jews and the Holocaust. Some were interested in the project because they knew Holocaust survivors or because their own distant ancestors came from this part of the world. Others focused on the service component of the trip; they wanted to contribute to the preservation of Jewish culture. Still others expressed an interest in history.

The students were impressed by the age and charm of Krakow, although they weren’t so sure about some Polish food practices. It struck some as odd that normal life goes on in the Polish city of Oświęcim right next to the death camp of Auschwitz. They found the tour of the death camp was unsettling, though one student said reading about Holocaust history had a greater personal impact.

Start

Start

The students got started in the area of the cemetery with the densest concentration of tombstones. One began numbering the stones with chalk, DSC06897

Deciphering inscriptions

Deciphering inscriptions

some set about photographing, transcribing, and translating inscriptions, others used soft brushes and water to gently clean the stones’ surfaces. DSC06895They had to be especially careful because most are of a soft sandstone which is prone to fracturing and wearing away. Many are covered with moss that provides a degree of protection but can also obscure the inscriptions. An additional complication is that some varieties of moss are endangered and protected, and thus not to be disturbed.

The Americans were joined by Poles—a woman who moved to the area from Warsaw with her two teenage daughters and another teenage girl. Some more local residents joined the group in the Lesko synagogue for the Shabbat service Friday afternoon (see mojelesko).

Local residents help clean the tombstones in Lesko

Local residents help clean the tombstones in Lesko

The Jewish cemetery in Lesko is the oldest and largest in the region. The earliest tombstone dates from 1548, and over 2000 stones remain on the site. It was one of the first places I was taken by a couple of local teens who showed me around town when I moved there in 1992. Nevertheless, the cemetery was talked about as a place to hang out with friends away from the scrutiny of adults. Little was known about the former Jewish population, and even less was discussed in public. I hope this is changing, even though (or perhaps because?) few witnesses remain of the prewar community and the removal and murder of Jews.

Grassroots heritage work in Bieszczady

21 Sunday Jun 2015

Posted by in Cemeteries, Dukla, Heritage work, Lesko, Nazi Camps, Polish-Jewish relations, Pre-World War II, Sanok, Synagogues, World War II, Zasław

≈ 6 Comments

Tags

,

There is a pattern in the frequency (or rareness) of my posts. When I’m focused on other writing projects, I also write more for the blog. When I’m traveling, interviewing, and attending events, I write less. This month I’ve been traveling.

It seemed important to bring my new research focus to my old fieldsite, and see what is happening in relation to Jewish culture and history in the Bieszczady Mountain region.

The Lesko synagogue. Destroyed in World War II, it was rebuilt in the 1960s.

The Lesko synagogue. Destroyed in World War II, it was rebuilt in the 1960s.

I’ve written elsewhere about how striking it is that, despite the fact that before World War II more Jews lived in Lesko than Poles, only very rarely have contemporary residents volunteered any information about the former Jewish residents. Even though I walked by the former synagogue (bigger than the Catholic Church) and the massive Jewish cemetery countless times, it really only sunk in to me last November that Lesko was a sztetl. One of my friends in Lesko described it really clearly. She said that somehow she always knew that the Jewish history of the town was something that you don’t talk about. It was a taboo topic. This has only recently started to change. Only in the past few years has she noticed that people talk about Jewish culture and history openly. She thinks this is a good thing. Realizing how little she knows about the subject, she has started to educate herself about prewar Jewish life and the Holocaust in Bieszczady.

Interior of the Lesko Synagogue. Now owned by the town, it functions as a gallery of regional art.

Interior of the Lesko Synagogue. Now owned by the town, it functions as a gallery of regional art.

Generally, I have found that when I ask, most people have a story or two to tell about Jews in Bieszczady, either something they have read or a some fragmentary memory their grandmother told them. Though also when I told one friend about my interest in Jewish culture and history, she responded, “There were Jews in Bieszczady?” Even though she went to high school in Lesko, she only vaguely remembered the Jewish cemetery and had no recollection of the synagogue. Whether she really didn’t know or just continues to think this is a topic that polite people don’t talk about, I’m not sure.

Nevertheless, some important grass roots work is being done: by Arkadiusz (Arek) Komski in Sanok, Ewa Bryła and her brother Piotr in Zagórz, and Jacek Koszczan in Dukla. Arek is working on a dissertation about the Jews of Sanok. We met at the Słotki Domek Cafe in Lesko after he finished work, and then the next day he showed me the places associated with Jewish life in Sanok.

One of the former synagogues in Sanok

One of the former synagogues in Sanok

Commemorative marker, Sanok

Commemorative marker, Sanok

His interest in the topic originated with a curiosity about history, and particularly the history of his hometown. He has published articles about the Nazi work camp in neighboring Zasław and about the locks that were found at the Jewish cemetery. Last year, he realized a project to place a commemorative marker across the street from the former site of the great synagogue.

Arek also let me know that he was awaiting the arrival of a group of students from Dartmouth College, led by Rabbi Edward Boraz, who were going to clean up and inventory the tombstones in the Jewish cemetery in Lesko (see Project Preservation). He has helped them already, first when they came to the cemetery in Sanok, then to Ustrzyki Dolne, Korczyna, and last year to Lutowiska.

Through Arek, I met Ewa, who helped found the Stowarzyszenie Dziedzictwo Mniejszości Karpackich (Association for the Heritage of Carpathian Minorities). Arek joked that for Ewa, working on heritage preservation is a full time hobby. Her interest emerged out of her own Bojko/Ukrainian roots; her parents and grandparents spoke Ukrainian among themselves, though they only spoke Polish with her and her brother. To date, the association has helped clean up as many as thirty Uniate (Ukrainian) and Jewish cemeteries in the region.

Information about the prison camp and murder of Bieszczady Jews in Zasław, near Zagórz

Information about the prison camp and murder of Bieszczady Jews in Zasław, near Zagórz

Another of the association’s projects is a heritage trail and information sign at the site of the Nazi work camp in Zasław. This is where most Jews from Lesko and neighboring communities were taken and forced to work at a neighboring factory. Approximately 10,000 prisoners were shot on the site, while perhaps 5,000 were sent to extermination camps at Belżec and Sobibor.

Monument at the site of mass murders in Zasław, near Zagórz

Monument at the site of mass murders in Zasław, near Zagórz

I stopped by Dukla on my way back to Krakow, and despite the rain Jacek and Ania, who works at the local tourist office, showed me around. Jacek had already started collecting Judaica around the time of his retirement from the border patrol. An infectiously upbeat and energetic man, he needed something to occupy himself and so decided to get to work protecting and publicizing the sites associated with Dukla’s prewar Jewish population. He told me that the town was as much as 80% Jewish. We walked by the former Jewish school, where boys learned various trades. It is across the street from the old government building; Jacek says that the associate mayor used to be selected from among the Jewish population. Similarly, most of the stone buildings around the market square (rynek) were owned by Jews. Jacek told me the fate of the last rabbi who hid under his rynek home, but then was caught and killed by the Nazis when he tried to escape to Krosno.

Writing still visible on the wall of the ruined synagogue in Dukla

Writing still visible on the wall of the ruined synagogue in Dukla

Ruin of the 18th century synagogue in Dukla

Ruin of the 18th century synagogue in Dukla

 

Former synagogue, now a grocery store in Dukla

Former synagogue, now a grocery store in Dukla

Two synagogues stood side by side. The one dating from the 18th century was burned by the Nazis with Jewish residents inside. The neighboring mykwa was also destroyed. Jacek would like to see the remains of this synagogue conserved. All it would take is reinforcing the window arches and putting in a platform on the inside for viewers to walk on; right now a chain link fence surrounds the site. The other synagogue, dating from the late 19th century, is now a grocery store. Dukla also has two Jewish cemeteries, the older one with burials up to World War I, and the newer one beside it used during the interwar period. Jacek mows them himself.

Jacek also coordinated the construction of a monument near the entrance of the old cemetery recognizing the 70th anniversary of the murder of Dukla’s Jewish population. Funders include the Foundation for the Preservation of Jewish Heritage (FODŻ) and descendants of former Jewish residents. While there have been many contributors to these various projects, Jacek is clearly the energy behind them, insuring that they are realized, and doing much of the physical labor himself.

Jacek reading a tombstone in the new Jewish cemetery, Dukla

Jacek reading a tombstone in the new Jewish cemetery, Dukla

Remembering the murder of Dukla's Jews

Remembering the murder of Dukla’s Jews

In each of these cases, someone (or several people) from the local community has taken the initiative to insure that Jewish culture and history is brought back into the public landscape. They are not Jewish themselves, but something compels them to remember, and to teach others about the former residents of their towns.

Commemorative monument in Piła

01 Monday Jun 2015

Posted by in Cemeteries, Heritage work, Piła

≈ 2 Comments

The unveiling of the monument at the 17th century Jewish cemetery in Piła will be tomorrow (June 2) at 10 AM. The monument is on the grounds of the Police Academy, who funded the project together with the Piła City Council.

Cemetery monument in Piła, designed by Janusz Marciniak

Cemetery monument in Piła, designed by Janusz Marciniak

Poznan artist Janusz Marciniak designed the monument. He explains (and this comes from Samuel Gruber’s blog which includes a good description of the project):

“I tried to make the monument simple and minimalist in form, and at the same time full of content. The granite’s color is reminiscent of human ashes. The disc was mounted on a steel frame to create the impression that the star floats above the ground. The monument is an open book, which invites you to read. The top of the star was slightly raised  – according to tradition – facing east (towards Jerusalem). On its smooth surface, like a mirror, is reflected the sky and trees. Under the star is a concrete replica of its shadow. This is the basis of the monument and at the same time symbolic seal the memory of the people buried in this place and to emphasize the permanence of this memory.” 

The inscription reads in Polish, Hebrew, and English:

You are standing in a 17th century Jewish cemetery destroyed by the German Nazis during World War II

The dust returns to the earth from which it came and the spirit returns to God who gave it, Eccl. 12:7

As we remember, thus we shall be remembered

The monument was funded by the Piła commune and the Police School in Piła.

More in Polish about the monument is posted on the Police Academy website.

Wyspa pamięci

28 Thursday May 2015

Posted by in Cemeteries, Heritage work, Memory, Piła

≈ 1 Comment

Here is an essay I prepared for the unveiling of a monument commemorating the 17th century jewish cemetery in Piła. It is part of a lecture I will give at the ceremony. Special thanks to Janusz Marciniak for his expert editing.

Monument to Piła Jews who died in World War I. Archival photo. http://www.kirkuty.xip.pl/pila.htm

Monument to Piła Jews who died in World War I. Archival photo. http://www.kirkuty.xip.pl/pila.htm

Co mówią przedmioty, a częściej już tylko fragmenty przedmiotów – okaleczone pamiątki z przeszłości? Jaką wartość mają resztki dawnego świata, materialne okruchy historii, która wydaje się nam coraz bardziej odległa i o której nie myślimy zbyt często z powodu naszych współczesnych trosk? Fragment zniszczonego w czasie wojny cmentarza żydowskiego przypomina nam o czasach pomyślności i harmonijnej koegzystencji mieszkańców Piły i jednocześnie o wydarzeniach, które jeszcze dziś budzą w nas trwogę i sprzeciw. Niepamięć można zrozumieć, bo pamięć bywa bolesna. Łatwiej patrzeć w przyszłość niż w przeszłość. Jednak rzeczywistość nie jest taka prosta. Coś nas łączy z przeszłością, szczególnie z tą tragiczną. Pamięć o niej działa w naszej podświadomości i ma na nas wpływ niezależnie od naszej woli.

One of the few traces remaining today--a fragment of the wall surrounding the Jewish Cemetery wall, Piła

One of the few traces remaining today–a fragment of the wall surrounding the Jewish Cemetery wall, Piła

Pomnik, taki jak ten na ocalonym fragmencie cmentarza żydowskiego w Pile, jest nie tylko wyrazem szacunku dla ludzi pochowanych w tym miejscu, lecz także narzędziem skupiania uwagi na tym, co było kiedyś i co już nie wróci, ale co teraz może służyć jako memento, ostrzeżenie, upomnienie i przestroga. Pomnik może nam pomagać w zachowaniu więzi z przeszłością i także z przyszłością. Nie można myśleć o przyszłości bez myślenia o przeszłości. Pomnik zachęca do poznania historii miasta i jego mieszkańców. Skłania do reflekcji nad fragmentem cmentarnego muru i kilkoma ocalonymi macewami. Prowadzi dialog z tym wszystkim, co pozostało z cmentarza. Także dialog z naturą, a zwłaszcza z najstarszymi drzewami, które są świadkami historii tego miejsca. Pomnik łączy ocalone fragmenty w większą całość i tworzy z nimi wyspę pamięci w centrum miasta. Ta wyspa pamięci uzmysławia nam stan naszej ludzkiej wrażliwości i czyni Piłę piękniejszym miastem, a jej dzisiejszych mieszkańców lepszymi ludźmi. Stojąc na zachowanym fragmencie cmentarza, wspominamy wszystkich mieszkańców dawnej Piły, którzy – tak jak my – mieli swoje troski i marzenia. Pamięć o nich może być źródłem dobra i nadziei.

Foundation of the monument, December 2014

Foundation of the monument, December 2014

Warto poznać i zrozumieć to, co było przed nami, żeby lepiej zrozumieć siebie. Sposób traktowania materialnych i niematerialnych fragmentów przeszłości miasta ma znaczenie dla tych, którzy obcują z nimi na co dzień, i dla tych, którzy patrzą na nie z daleka. Ważną grupą zainteresowanych przeszłością są ci, którzy szukają swojej tożsamości i korzeni.

Postcard with the synagogue on the left. Piła was in the Prussian partition of Poland, and was also known as Schneidemühl.

Postcard with the synagogue on the left. Piła was in the Prussian partition of Poland, and was also known as Schneidemühl.

Book with photo of the synagogue on the cover held to show the approximate location of the synagogue until it was destroyed in the Kristallnacht in 1938.

Book (History of the Jewish Community of Schneidemuhl– 1641 to the Holocaust by Peter Simonstein Cullman) with photo of the synagogue on the cover held to show the approximate location of the synagogue until it was destroyed in the Kristallnacht in 1938.

Kiedy słuchamy tego, co mówią do nas fragmenty przeszłości, to przeszłość ożywa. Fragmenty mówią do nas niezależnie od tego czy staramy się zapomnieć, czy pamiętać o niej. Czasami cudza niepamięć nas rani i zdarza się, że własna pamięć sprawia nam ból. Jest tak, kiedy zamykamy się przed przeszłością i nie chcemy jej zrozumieć. Dlatego lepiej pamiętać i starać się zrozumieć przeszłość oraz jej wpływ na nas. Tylko tak można leczyć traumę.

Inaczej wygląda i działa miejsce z pomnikiem niż bez pomnika. Pomnik wypełnia pustkę po stracie. Pustka może być interpretowana jako obojętność, brak szacunku, a nawet znak nienawiści. Pomnik zaś inspiruje do pracy pamięci i kontemplacji. Cmentarz wrócił na mapę miasta i do świadomości jego mieszkańców. Jest znowu miejscem skupienia i przeżywania straty, a równocześnie szacunku dla fenomenu życia. Nie jesteśmy sami. Odczuwamy znaczenie pamięci podobnie. Pamięć nas zbliża. Dzięki niej stanowimy wspólnotę, chociaż jesteśmy różni. Pamięć sprawia, że różnice nas nie dzielą, lecz łączą. Pamięć staje się podstawą nowych więzi społecznych.

I will post a photo of the completed monument after the unveiling on Tuesday, June 2.

Jewish heritage in Poland: Remembered pasts and imagined futures

17 Friday Apr 2015

Posted by in Anthropology, Heritage work, Memory, Polish-Jewish Heritage, Research Methodology

≈ 3 Comments

Here is a brief summary of my research project in Poland:

My research on Jewish heritage asks what can be done with the fragments of Jewish culture that remain in Poland, sometimes hidden and sometimes in plain sight? And what value does such memory work have? It might appear that too little is left, or that any attempt to piece together fragments will just expose more horror, trauma, and death. After all, Poland’s numerous and diverse Jewish communities were destroyed in the Holocaust. The few survivors who returned after World War II were made to feel unwelcome by inhospitable neighbors and a political regime that demonized them. By 1968, nearly no Jews were left in Poland. A collective amnesia erased most remaining traces of Poland’s Jews. Physical reminders were torn down or repurposed, and even memories were pushed out of consciousness or silenced. Can anything be gained by revisiting all that has been lost?

I explore these questions on two levels. First, on the social level, I focus on what is actually being done with physical traces of Jewish culture. I have visited Jewish cemeteries and synagogues, including the places where no marker is left of their location. I have also gone to places where active memory work is being done, including commemorative monuments and websites. I have viewed museums and archives where some materials and records are collected. I have talked with curators, artists, historians, and others who engage with the objects of Jewish memory in various ways. From these explorations, it is clear that the silence surrounding Jewish culture in Poland has been challenged at least since the Solidarity period at the beginning of the 1980s, when rediscovering Poland’s historical ethnic and religious diversity was a way of protesting state socialist nationalism which limited all kinds of expressions of difference and freedom. The steady growth of interest in Jewish culture in Poland has been manifested most recently in major projects like Warsaw’s new Polin Museum of the History of Polish Jews, but also in much quieter ways in smaller communities all over Poland. I use ethnographic methods to examine the ways contemporary memory projects piece together the fragments of Jewish memory. If you know where to look, fragments of Jewish lives (and deaths) can be found even where whole Jewish communities and their most visible elements like synagogues and cemeteries have been destroyed. These fragments can reveal something about the past, even if it is just in an incomplete and shattered form. And they can point toward the future—the possibilities that might emerge out of traces of memory.

Second, I explore the fragments of Jewish culture on the personal level. Central to this is the archeology of my own hidden Jewish ancestry. I have dug up secret family photographs, pieced together the memories of living relatives, sifted through numerous archives and online records, and finally I discovered extended family I never knew I had—in Israel, the United States, and Europe. But not in Poland, where only scattered hints of my ancestors’ lives remain. In addition to tracing my own family history, I have been gathering the flashes of memory held by witnesses (and others who like me are witnesses of witnesses), as well as the efforts of contemporary Jews to revive the practice of Jewish culture and religion in Poland.

Lapidarium in Wronki

14 Tuesday Apr 2015

Posted by in Cemeteries, Heritage work, Polish-Jewish Heritage, Wronki

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

I didn’t know what a lapidarium is until I went to the opening ceremony for one in Wronki, a town about an hour north of Poznan. The opening was on December 14, 2014. Here are some photos:

Lapidarium in Wronki

Lapidarium in Wronki

Sign outlining the history of Jews in Wronki

Sign outlining the history of Jews in Wronki

Piotr Pojasek speaking at the opening of the Lapidarium in Wronki

Piotr Pojasek speaking at the opening of the Lapidarium in Wronki

Placing a lantern at the opening of the Lapidarium in Wronki

Placing a lantern at the opening of the Lapidarium in Wronki

Flowers and candle lanterns placed at the monument at the heart of the Lapidarium in Wronki

Flowers and candle lanterns placed at the monument at the heart of the Lapidarium in Wronki

A stone with a tree with a broken branch, which became the logo for the lapidarium in Wronki

A stone with a tree with a broken branch, which became the logo for the lapidarium in Wronki

A lapidarium is essentially a place where stones are displayed. In this case, the fragments of the tombstones from the Jewish cemetery were recovered and placed in raised beds. The space around them is filled with small stones about the size of those that customarily would be placed on Jewish graves. Written in Polish, Hebrew, and English on a monument in the shape of a large tombstone are the words:

In memory of the Jewish community that inhabited Wronki from 1507-1939. Lapidarium of tombstones from the destroyed Jewish cemeteries of Wronki

This project represents for me the best of what can be done with the fragments of Jewish culture in Poland. It required the engagement of many different organizations and individuals, most of whom are not Jewish but who felt a moral obligation to recover these stones which were removed from the cemetery during World War II and later used to make a curb on a street in a neighboring village. For some, the lapidarium was a project of reclaiming the town’s heritage. For others it was much more bound up with faith and spirituality.

I’ve been back to Wronki a few times and talked with a number of people involved in the project. I’ll fill out this story in future posts.