g10 holocaust unit - mrs. goffi: 2015-16 school year · 2018. 9. 7. · holocaust film...

The Holocaust

1. What are the characteristics of a memoir? How does a memoir differ from an autobiography? What are the elements of a graphic novel?

2. How do memoirs, autobiographies, and graphic novels help us to understand the human condition and convey difficult emotions?

3. Is the graphic novel an appropriate medium for relating the story of a holocaust survivor? Is Spiegelman guilty of dehumanizing his characters by depicting them as animals?

****After reading the 2 excerpts from The Reader in your notebook, write a paragraph or two about… The Reader: The Reader is a novel about a love story that evolves into the inquiry about the effects of the Holocaust. The author seeks to answer the question, “What is to be done with the knowledge and guilt of the Holocaust?” How does this particular passage depict the Holocaust? Your answer should be focused on one or more of the following elements:

• Mood • Tone • Imagery • Theme • Is it more factual or anecdotal? • Impact on you as an individual, the reader

****After watching the Holocaust special from the BBC, in your notebook, write a paragraph or two about… BBC: http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/b06yrds7/holocaust-memorial-day-2016 How does this particular passage depict the Holocaust? And how does it compare to the excerpt from The Reader? Your answer should be focused on one or more of the following elements:

• Which one has more of an impact? • Mood, tone, imagery, theme • Factual or anecdotal

**Be prepared to discuss this!

Take this time to complete the following: 1. Use imdb.com to read reviews and summaries of the movies 2. Select 1 or 2 movies that you are thinking about watching 3. Turn in your selection(s)

With a partner, please use this website to find the differences between the following termsà

1. Memoir: http://www.readwritethink.org/files/resources/lesson_images/lesson998/Definition.pdf

2. Autobiography: Use the site above

3. Graphic Novel: http://www.getgraphic.org/whatisagraphicnovel.php

On a separate sheet of paper, please brainstorm an outline for your presentation. This will become the template for your presentation, so you know what to look out for as you watch the film. Take into consideration the following:

• Subheadings/ Slide Titles • Order of the slides • Pictures you can incorporate • Sources you will use (bibliography) • What your audience will want to know • The criteria

You will turn this in so I can offer some feedback!

First and Last Name_________________________ G10

Holocaust Film Presentation: Audience Notes Student Name Movie Title Movie background—

what is it about? How does this movie depict the Holocaust? Think about characters and themes.

Why do artists, authors, and filmmakers continue to memorialize the Holocaust? What is the purpose and how does it apply to our life today?

First and Last Name_________________________ G10

Holocaust Unit: Reading Calendar and Unit Structure

Directions: Please create a reading calendar of when you will be reading and how much you will be reading in order to finish TWO novels at the end of the 6 weeks. Please indicate which novel you will be reading (you have a choice of which one to start first!).

Sunday Date:

Monday Date: *Activity

Tuesday Date:

Wednesday Date:

Thursday Date: *Discussion

Friday Date: *In-class reading

Saturday Date:

Pages/Chapters

Sunday Date:


Tuesday Date:

Wednesday Date:



Saturday Date:

Pages/Chapters

Sunday Date:


Tuesday Date:

Wednesday Date:



Saturday Date:

Pages/Chapters

Sunday Date:


Tuesday Date:

Wednesday Date:



Saturday Date:

Pages/Chapters

Sunday Date:


Tuesday Date:

Wednesday Date:



Saturday Date:

Pages/Chapters

Sunday Date:


Tuesday Date:

Wednesday Date:



Saturday Date:

Pages/Chapters

3 ideas/topics to annotate for in BOTH novelsà

CHARACTER IMAGERY/LANGUAGE THEME

First and Last Name___________________________ G10

Holocaust Annotations Directions: Throughout the reading of the two novels, please annotate for the following ideasà Character Inferences—What

evidence shows the character’s personality?

Imagery/Language that Contribute to the Mood

Theme—First, you must determine the theme of the

novel and then find evidence.

Theme:____________________ ___________________________ ___________________________ ___________________________ ___________________________

How do these quotes connect with the novel

you are currently reading? Provide evidence from the

novel you are reading and an explanation.

“The world? The world is not interested in us . Today, everything is possible, even the crematoria . . . ” ― Elie Wiesel, Night “The question shouldn 't be "Why are you, a Christian, here in a death camp, condemned for trying to save Jews? ' The real question is "Why aren 't all the Christians here?” ― Joel C. Rosenberg, The Auschwitz Escape “Fiction cannot recite the numbing numbers, but it can be that witness, that memory . A storyteller can attempt to tell the human tale, can make a galaxy out of the chaos, can point to the fact that some people survived even as most people died . And can remind us that the swallows still sing around the smokestacks.” ― Jane Yolen

“I had no real communication with anyone at the time, so I was totally dependent on God . And he never failed me . ” ― Diet Eman, Things We Couldn't Say “We had to learn ourselves and, furthermore, we had to teach the despairing men, that it did not really matter what we expected from life, but rather what life expected from us . We need to stop asking about the meaning of life, and instead to think of ourselves as those who were being questioned by life—hourly and daily . Our answer must consist not in talk and meditation, but in right action and in right conduct . Life ultimately means taking the responsibility to find the right answers to its problems and to fulfill the task which it constantly sets for each individual .” ― Viktor E. Franklin

“To die, it 's easy . But you have to struggle for life . ” ― Art Spiegelman, Maus, I: A Survivor's Tale: My Father Bleeds History

***After you finish reading the poem using TPCASTT annotation method, be prepared to discuss the following questions during our Seminar…. What is the theme of this poem—meaning, what can you learn about the Holocaust? What words/phrases contribute to the theme and/or are effective in creating images in your mind? How does this poem relate to the novel you are reading? Be specific, referencing words, lines, phrases Does the poem evoke the same kind of emotions as the novel you are reading? Which piece of literature has more of an impact on you as a reader?

This poem was written by Pavel Friedmann, at Theresienstadt concentration camp on 4 June 1942. On September 29, 1944 he was deported to Auschwitz where he died. There are at least two versions of The Butterfly due to different translations. Below you can find the two that we have.

The Butterfly #1

He was the last. Truly the last. Such yellowness was bitter and blinding Like the sun’s tear shattered on stone. That was his true colour. And how easily he climbed, and how high, Certainly, climbing, he wanted To kiss the last of my world.

I have been here seven weeks, ‘Ghettoized’. Who loved me have found me, Daisies call to me, And the branches also of the white chestnut in the yard. But I haven’t seen a butterfly here. That last one was the last one. There are no butterflies, here, in the ghetto.

The Butterfly #2

The last, the very last, So richly, brightly, dazzlingly yellow. Perhaps if the sun's tears would sing against a white stone...

Such, such a yellow Is carried lightly ‘way up high. It went away I'm sure because it wished to kiss the world goodbye.

For seven weeks I've lived in here, Penned up inside this ghetto But I have found my people here. The dandelions call to me And the white chestnut candles in the court. Only I never saw another butterfly.

That butterfly was the last one. Butterflies don't live in here, In the ghetto.

First and Last Name__________________________ G10

Small Group Work: Finding Evidence for Theme

Theme: Survival What can you learn about this theme?

First and Last Name___________________________________ G10

The Author’s Voices Directions: We are going to listen to Wiesel and Spiegelman discuss The Holocaust and their novels. During these clips, please answer the following questions: Wiesel: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=932l3lWeOR0 (3:30 minutes) Spiegelman: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BLVG3GNvHkU (7:30 minutes)

1. Below, write down any interesting, shocking, or confusing comments the authors makeà

WIESEL SPIEGELMAN

2. How are the author’s similar? Go beyond the surface, think about their claims, their beliefs, their mannerisms…

3. How are the author’s different? Go beyond the surface, think about their claims, their beliefs, their mannerisms…

4. After listening to the authors speak, does it change how you feel about their stories?

10 April 1994: The Silence of Nyamata is a historical novel that tells the tormented love story between a Tutsi girl and a Hutu boy in Nyamata, a town in southeastern Rwanda. The couple's first encounter occurs in 1993, one year before the genocide erupts in the country.

The more Caritas' and Innocent's lives intertwine and their love grows, the more the genocide threatens their future and

that of their families.

By following Caritas' first discovery of love and human cruelty, the book leads the readers through the events that

culminate in the 1994 Rwandan genocide, in which hundreds of thousands of Tutsi and moderate Hutu (who refused to

take part in the killings of the Tutsi) were systematically executed by the Hutu majority before the eyes of the international

community.

It is estimated that between 800,000 and 1m people, including women and children, were killed in the three months from 6

April to 15 July 1994.

A rumble welcomed the dawn on the following day, 10th April, and the world suddenly became darkness and fear. What followed was genuine pandemonium – there were screams, curses, bullets shot all over the church, explosions and smoke.

Then, there was death.

People started running in every direction but, because of the heavy smoke and the limited space, they kept bumping into each other, unable to escape. When the smoke cleared, the Tutsis saw dozens of armed militiamen with shotguns and machetes standing at the entrance of the church.

They screamed again, some begged, others threw down their money and all their valuable possessions: anything they could use to save their lives. Many tried to move the militiamen by speaking about their children or elderly parents, too tired and sick to cope with these inhuman conditions.

The militiamen – farmers, cattle herders, office workers and even young boys whose eyes were filled with terror – were also scared and uncertain as to their next move. They were no terrorists; they were common people who had been brainwashed.

Many people began crying and screaming, some tried to escape through the windows, others, too panic-stricken to think properly, threw themselves on their killers who promptly hit them. The fearful behaviour of the Tutsis facilitated their deaths: the more they begged and cried, the more the Hutus found satisfaction in killing them.

If some Hutus killed slowly because of fear and inexperience, others did it for pleasure.

The militiamen hurled bombs and those who did not die from the machetes or the gunshots, suffocated from the smoke. Some detonators had been placed on the sides of the church and, once activated, they killed hundreds of people in a few seconds.

Legs, arms and heads flew all over the church.

After annotating using SCASI, think about….

1. How is this text similar and different to the text you are reading?

2. While the two events are different, which style of writing has more of an impact on you as a reader? Which one can you envision more? Why?

3. Which words/phrases/language are effective in this piece?

First and Last Name__________________________ G10

Small Group Work: Elaborating

Theme: It’s easy to die but one has to fight for his/her life in order to survive a genocide. Evidence from Maus: Vladek sums up the process succinctly while consoling his wife after the death of his first son, Richieu: "to die, it's easy...but you have to struggle for life." Elaboration: Theme: It’s easy to die but one has to fight for his/her life in order to survive a genocide. Evidence from Night: Elaboration:

First and Last Name_______________________________ G10

Power of Language/Images in Maus and Night Directions: The story of the Holocaust in Maus is symbolized by powerful images, where as Night uses impactful figurative language to evoke emotion in readers. What if Maus was written in prose and Night was written with symbols and images? How would that change the message and meaning of the text? Maus Readers: Pick a memorable plot event of your choice and rewrite it using imagery, similes, metaphors, alliteration, and other figurative language to describe what happens. Be prepared to share.

First and Last Name_______________________________ G10

Power of Language/Images in Maus and Night Directions: The story of the Holocaust in Maus is symbolized by powerful images, where as Night uses impactful figurative language to evoke emotion in readers. What if Maus was written in prose and Night was written with symbols and images? How would that change the message and meaning of the text? Night Readers: Pick a memorable plot event of your choice and rewrite it in a comic-form, using animals to represent the characters. Think about what the animals my represent. Be prepared to share this.

First and Last Name___________________________ G10

Wiesel’sNobelLectureNobel Lecture, December 11, 1986

Hope, Despair and Memory

A Hasidic legend tells us that the great Rabbi Baal-Shem-Tov, Master of the Good Name, also known as the Besht, undertook an urgent and perilous mission: to hasten the coming of the Messiah. The Jewish people, all humanity were suffering too much, beset by too many evils. They had to be saved, and swiftly. For having tried to meddle with history, the Besht was punished; banished along with his faithful servant to a distant island. In despair, the servant implored his master to exercise his mysterious powers in order to bring them both home. "Impossible", the Besht replied. "My powers have been taken from me". "Then, please, say a prayer, recite a litany, work a miracle". "Impossible", the Master replied, "I have forgotten everything". They both fell to weeping.

Suddenly the Master turned to his servant and asked: "Remind me of a prayer - any prayer ." "If only I could", said the servant. "I too have forgotten everything". "Everything - absolutely everything?" "Yes, except - "Except what?" "Except the alphabet". At that the Besht cried out joyfully: "Then what are you waiting for? Begin reciting the alphabet and I shall repeat after you...". And together the two exiled men began to recite, at first in whispers, then more loudly: "Aleph, beth, gimel, daleth...". And over again, each time more vigorously, more fervently; until, ultimately, the Besht regained his powers, having regained his memory.

I love this story, for it illustrates the messianic expectation -which remains my own. And the importance of friendship to man's ability to transcend his condition. I love it most of all because it emphasizes the mystical power of memory. Without memory, our existence would be barren and opaque, like a prison cell into which no light penetrates; like a tomb which rejects the living. Memory saved the Besht, and if anything can, it is memory that will save humanity. For me, hope without memory is like memory without hope.

Just as man cannot live without dreams, he cannot live without hope. If dreams reflect the past, hope summons the future. Does this mean that our future can be built on a rejection of the past? Surely such a choice is not necessary. The two are not incompatible. The opposite of the past is not the future but the absence of future; the opposite of the future is not the past but the absence of past. The loss of one is equivalent to the sacrifice of the other.

A recollection. The time: After the war. The place: Paris. A young man struggles to readjust to life. His mother, his father, his small sister are gone. He is alone. On the verge of despair. And yet he does not give up. On the contrary, he strives to find a place among the living. He acquires a new language. He makes a few friends who, like himself, believe that the memory of evil will serve as a shield against evil; that the memory of death will serve as a shield against death.

This he must believe in order to go on. For he has just returned from a universe where God, betrayed by His creatures, covered His face in order not to see. Mankind, jewel of his creation, had succeeded in building an inverted Tower of Babel, reaching not toward heaven but toward an anti-heaven, there to create a parallel society, a new "creation" with its own princes and gods, laws and principles, jailers and prisoners. A world where the past no longer counted - no longer meant anything.

Stripped of possessions, all human ties severed, the prisoners found themselves in a social and cultural void. "Forget", they were told, "Forget where you came from; forget who you were. Only the present matters". But the present was only a blink of the Lord's eye. The Almighty himself was a slaughterer: it was He who decided who would live and who would die; who would be tortured, and who would be rewarded. Night after night,

seemingly endless processions vanished into the flames, lighting up the sky. Fear dominated the universe. Indeed this was another universe; the very laws of nature had been transformed. Children looked like old men, old men whimpered like children. Men and women from every corner of Europe were suddenly reduced to nameless and faceless creatures desperate for the same ration of bread or soup, dreading the same end. Even their silence was the same for it resounded with the memory of those who were gone. Life in this accursed universe was so distorted, so unnatural that a new species had evolved. Waking among the dead, one wondered if one was still alive.

And yet real despair only seized us later. Afterwards. As we emerged from the nightmare and began to search for meaning. All those doctors of law or medicine or theology, all those lovers of art and poetry, of Bach and Goethe, who coldly, deliberately ordered the massacres and participated in them. What did their metamorphosis signify? Could anything explain their loss of ethical, cultural and religious memory? How could we ever understand the passivity of the onlookers and - yes - the silence of the Allies? And question of questions: Where was God in all this? It seemed as impossible to conceive of Auschwitz with God as to conceive of Auschwitz without God. Therefore, everything had to be reassessed because everything had changed. With one stroke, mankind's achievements seemed to have been erased. Was Auschwitz a consequence or an aberration of "civilization" ? All we know is that Auschwitz called that civilization into question as it called into question everything that had preceded Auschwitz. Scientific abstraction, social and economic contention, nationalism, xenophobia, religious fanaticism, racism, mass hysteria. All found their ultimate expression in Auschwitz.

The next question had to be, why go on? If memory continually brought us back to this, why build a home? Why bring children into a world in which God and man betrayed their trust in one another?

Of course we could try to forget the past. Why not? Is it not natural for a human being to repress what causes him pain, what causes him shame? Like the body, memory protects its wounds. When day breaks after a sleepless night, one's ghosts must withdraw; the dead are ordered back to their graves. But for the first time in history, we could not bury our dead. We bear their graves within ourselves.

For us, forgetting was never an option.

Remembering is a noble and necessary act. The call of memory, the call tomemory, reaches us from the very dawn of history. No commandment figures so frequently, so insistently, in the Bible. It is incumbent upon us to remember the good we have received, and the evil we have suffered. New Year's Day, Rosh Hashana, is also called Yom Hazikaron, the day of memory. On that day, the day of universal judgment, man appeals to God to remember: our salvation depends on it. If God wishes to remember our suffering, all will be well; if He refuses, all will be lost. Thus, the rejection of memory becomes a divine curse, one that would doom us to repeat past disasters, past wars.

Nothing provokes so much horror and opposition within the Jewish tradition as war. Our abhorrence of war is reflected in the paucity of our literature of warfare. After all, God created the Torah to do away with iniquity, to do away with war1.Warriors fare poorly in the Talmud: Judas Maccabeus is not even mentioned; Bar-Kochba is cited, but negatively2. David, a great warrior and conqueror, is not permitted to build the Temple; it is his son Solomon, a man of peace, who constructs God's dwelling place. Of course some wars may have been necessary or inevitable, but none was ever regarded as holy. For us, a holy war is a contradiction in terms. War dehumanizes, war diminishes, war debases all those who wage it. The Talmud says, "Talmidei hukhamim shemarbin shalom baolam" (It is the wise men who will bring about peace). Perhaps, because wise men remember best.

And yet it is surely human to forget, even to want to forget. The Ancients saw it as a divine gift. Indeed if memory helps us to survive, forgetting allows us to go on living. How could we go on with our daily lives, if we remained constantly aware of the dangers and ghosts surrounding us? The Talmud tells us that without the ability to forget, man would soon cease to learn. Without the ability to forget, man would live in a permanent, paralyzing fear of death. Only God and God alone can and must remember everything.

How are we to reconcile our supreme duty towards memory with the need to forget that is essential to life? No generation has had to confront this paradox with such urgency. The survivors wanted to communicate everything to the living: the victim's solitude and sorrow, the tears of mothers driven to madness, the prayers of the doomed beneath a fiery sky.

They needed to tell the child who, in hiding with his mother, asked softly, very softly: "Can I cry now?" They needed to tell of the sick beggar who, in a sealed cattle-car, began to sing as an offering to his companions. And of the little girl who, hugging her grandmother, whispered: "Don't be afraid, don't be sorry to die... I'm not". She was seven, that little girl who went to her death without fear, without regret.

Each one of us felt compelled to record every story, every encounter. Each one of us felt compelled to bear witness, Such were the wishes of the dying, the testament of the dead. Since the so-called civilized world had no use for their lives, then let it be inhabited by their deaths.

The great historian Shimon Dubnov served as our guide and inspiration. Until the moment of his death he said over and over again to his companions in the Riga ghetto: "Yidden, shreibt un fershreibt" (Jews, write it all down). His words were heeded. Overnight, countless victims become chroniclers and historians in the ghettos, even in the death camps. Even members of theSonderkommandos, those inmates forced to burn their fellow inmates' corpses before being burned in turn, left behind extraordinary documents. To testify became an obsession. They left us poems and letters, diaries and fragments of novels, some known throughout the world, others still unpublished.

After the war we reassured ourselves that it would be enough to relate a single night in Treblinka, to tell of the cruelty, the senselessness of murder, and the outrage born of indifference: it would be enough to find the right word and the propitious moment to say it, to shake humanity out of its indifference and keep the torturer from torturing ever again. We thought it would be enough to read the world a poem written by a child in the Theresienstadt ghetto to ensure that no child anywhere would ever again have to endure hunger or fear. It would be enough to describe a death-camp "Selection", to prevent the human right to dignity from ever being violated again.

We thought it would be enough to tell of the tidal wave of hatred which broke over the Jewish people for men everywhere to decide once and for all to put an end to hatred of anyone who is "different" - whether black or white, Jew or Arab, Christian or Moslem - anyone whose orientation differs politically, philosophically, sexually. A naive undertaking? Of course. But not without a certain logic.

We tried. It was not easy. At first, because of the language; language failed us. We would have to invent a new vocabulary, for our own words were inadequate, anemic.

And then too, the people around us refused to listen; and even those who listened refused to believe; and even those who believed could not comprehend. Of course they could not. Nobody could. The experience of the camps defies comprehension.

Have we failed? I often think we have.

If someone had told us in 1945 that in our lifetime religious wars would rage on virtually every continent, that thousands of children would once again be dying of starvation, we would not have believed it. Or that racism and fanaticism would flourish once again, we would not have believed it. Nor would we have believed that there would be governments that would deprive a man like Lech Walesa of his freedom to travel merely because he dares to dissent. And he is not alone. Governments of the Right and of the Left go much further, subjecting those who dissent, writers, scientists, intellectuals, to torture and persecution. How to explain this defeat of memory?

How to explain any of it: the outrage of Apartheid which continues unabated. Racism itself is dreadful, but when it pretends to be legal, and therefore just, when a man like Nelson Mandela is imprisoned, it becomes even more repugnant. Without comparing Apartheid to Nazism and to its "final solution" - for that defies all comparison - one cannot help but assign the two systems, in their supposed legality, to the same camp. And the outrage of terrorism: of the hostages in Iran, the coldblooded massacre in the synagogue in Istanbul, the senseless deaths in the streets of Paris. Terrorism must be outlawed by all civilized nations - not explained or rationalized, but fought and eradicated. Nothing can, nothing will justify the murder of innocent people and helpless children. And the outrage of preventing men and women like Andrei Sakharov, Vladimir and Masha Slepak, Ida Nudel, Josef Biegun, Victor Brailowski, Zakhar Zonshein, and all the others known and unknown from leaving their country. And then there is Israel, which after two thousand years of exile and thirty-eight years of sovereignty still does not have peace. I would like to see this people, which is my own, able to establish the foundation for a constructive relationship with all its Arab neighbors, as it has done with Egypt. We must exert pressure on all those in power to come to terms.

And here we come back to memory. We must remember the suffering of my people, as we must remember that of the Ethiopians, the Cambodians, the boat people, Palestinians, the Mesquite Indians, the Argentinian"desaparecidos" - the list seems endless.

Let us remember Job who, having lost everything - his children, his friends, his possessions, and even his argument with God - still found the strength to begin again, to rebuild his life. Job was determined not to repudiate the creation, however imperfect, that God had entrusted to him.

Job, our ancestor. Job, our contemporary. His ordeal concerns all humanity. Did he ever lose his faith? If so, he rediscovered it within his rebellion. He demonstrated that faith is essential to rebellion, and that hope is possible beyond despair. The source of his hope was memory, as it must be ours. Because I remember, I despair. Because I remember, I have the duty to reject despair. I remember the killers, I remember the victims, even as I struggle to invent a thousand and one reasons to hope.

There may be times when we are powerless to prevent injustice, but there must never be a time when we fail to protest. The Talmud tells us that by saving a single human being, man can save the world. We may be powerless to open all the jails and free all the prisoners, but by declaring our solidarity with one prisoner, we indict all jailers. None of us is in a position to eliminate war, but it is our obligation to denounce it and expose it in all its hideousness. War leaves no victors, only victims. I began with the story of the Besht. And, like the Besht, mankind needs to remember more than ever. Mankind needs peace more than ever, for our entire planet, threatened by nuclear war, is in danger of total destruction. A destruction only man can provoke, only man can prevent. Mankind must remember that peace is not God's gift to his creatures, it is our gift to each other.

____________________

1. The Torah is the Hebrew name for the first five books of the Scriptures, in which God hands down the tablets of the Law to Moses on Mt. Sinai. In contradistinction to the Law of Moses, the Written Law, the Talmud is the vast compilation of the Oral Law, including rabbinical commentaries and elaborations.

2. Judas Maccabeus led the struggle against Antiochus IV of Syria. He defeated a Syrian expedition and reconsecrated the Temple in Jerusalem (c. 165 B.C.). Simon Bar-Kochba (or Kokba) was the leader of the Hebrew revolt against the Romans, 132-135 A.D.

From Nobel Lectures, Peace 1981-1990, Editor-in-Charge Tore Frängsmyr, Editor Irwin Abrams, World Scientific Publishing Co., Singapore, 1997

After annotating using The Big 5, think about….



3. Do you agree with what Wiesel says? Why or why not? Why is it important to remember the Holocaust and other horrific events?

First and Last Name____________________________ G10

Small Group Work: Character Analysis Directions: Describe the character using the following prompts. Be sure to support your claims with evidence.

Reader's inference about the character:

How the character views

him/herself:

How other character's view

him/her:

Character Name:

****For theme stations

Guilt

Survival

Inhumanity of Humanity

Faith

Father-Son Relationship

The Other Side: Stories of the Apartheid by Ilan Ossendryver

The day could be described as gray. Too gray. Wintry days take hold of a blueness, as though the ocean, turned upside-down and its cold hue of late afternoon, had begun to drip down on the location - but just that, it couldn’t make it - today, tomorrow. It was winter blue if you had a secure house in the northern suburbs away from that wretched gray. In fact, gray was seldom seen there; the awarded privilege when the sun decided to show face or slowly slip down in a multicolored dusk. Even the sun had been told to stay away from the confines of the location, never to please, make the grass grow, or allow the flowers to blossom. A visit to the land of emptiness.

The location’s coldness wrapped you in, in a strangling vice-tight hold, but at the same time, tried to squeeze you out, not wanting you, warning you to move on. I hated the streets but I had to be there, to report on a nation’s uprising.

The streets are cruel here, just muddy foot-thick strips of slush in the rainy season and suffocating dust in the dry.

The pavements of cracking bricks, formed a wall continuing forever. They separate rows of prison-style houses that kept the residents of the location. There was no time here - I learned - unless someone died, when that house became different, an appealing gesture of difference, with the other houses of the accordion-shape formation squashing from both sides, inwards, towards the house that claimed death. It became a show of concern, to break the monotony.

Only then did time perhaps move on, in slow mourning, until death had become a forgotten drama, the accordion of houses slowly taking their previous pattern. Mass produced houses designed in minutes, thousands of on both sides of the strip, separated by another strip and another and another. In each hundreds of thousands of Blacks coming and going, entering and disappearing, in and out of stark white-washed housed of deceptive purity.

A young woman sits knitting. At her feet are bundles of wool, bright red with strands of blue. Her eyes gaze downwards to the silvery knitting needles speeding away unwandering in deep concentration. No one can disturb her hour. Her mind lost in fantasy perhaps, forgetting all, oblivious to the harsh surroundings in which she is confined.

On the same street a baby cries out, stops in a while as her mother leans forward, thrusting her nipple into his mouth. She smiles and begins a lullaby, beautiful but eerie, as though not fit for this place. A precious moment, a face of pride directed to her suckling baby, only. She has for this instant forgotten the future. It doesn’t exist, the hateful past, but only the the wonderful seconds of present time, time that is only temporary. The baby falls asleep, satisfied, the lullaby lingers on for a few minutes more, and then silence.

She too fades into a sleep.

Further down another strip, I spot four men huddled together, trying hard to keep the cold air out, their mouths allowing for drifts of cold steam to wander while staring at the cards in their chapped shaky hands. As each speaks, a puff of cold misty hue clouds the air, as a steam locomotive would spit out in gaining power to produce movement. They, too are deeply engrossed in what they are doing. There is a quick chuckle from the winner, a choir of despondent cries of disbelief from the losers. The next hand is dealt quickly, taken with a swig of the bottle and the lighting of homemade cigarettes. Then all is quiet in deep concentration until the next victory. The stillness, this quietness seems so false, so reassuring that everything here is fine.

I keep moving.

At the junction of the strips, stand two youths, one dressed in jeans, faded and ripped, his T-shirt bearing the initials UDF; the other in garage light brown overalls. Each stands like a newly-elected politician after a successful election campaign But these teenagers are far from the avenues of a regular job, let alone important decision-making. Their existence in a racially classed country has reduced them to attacking the equally destitute who may have money in their purses at the end of the month. Someone who is too old to fight back, who will give in easily without defense. Blood will be drawn today, each day, the faces of those countless young, disappearing into rows of block houses,

grinning with location achievement. They look at me with hateful eyes as I pass guardedly, knowing the passions of their minds.

I turn quickly into a new street. One with the attributes of a political catastrophe in the making, by a government ruthlessly bent on suppressing the black masses, shaping them according to its will.

Soul-impassioned rhythmic beats of township jazz/gospel usually loud, blaring from decaying radios wrecked of age, has changed channel to sounds of trepidation. The number one song has been scored by many an oppressive government; deadly bullets slamming into human flesh with a thud of an old bass drum while others off their marks, zip into walls sculpturing violence. The added notes - cries of agony as whips come down, lifting sprays of blood into the air. The song is played over and over until its melody is memorized and sang out in nightmares.

The calmness on the other side of the strip seemed like an illusion, a front to turn back visitors seeking answers to questions. The vans spill out uniformed men in blue and brown, charging with ferocity, unleashing powerful terror on children, men and women who fight back the pain with cries of pain. They run with outstanding courage.

Others stand firm with dignity.

Many fall.

Houses are entered and the struggling dragged out, rammed forcefully into waiting vans - struggling men, women and children, the strong, the blind and the crippled dragged from their homes…struggling.

I am witnessing it, my eyes trapdoor shut, now only allowing for the sounds of repression to enter my mind. It is a reminder that I’m not supposed to see it; off limits to Whites. The truth is jailing me. I must hide.

The cops are closing in fast and when they see me, for seeing them, the knife will come down hard - slashing.

“Can you hide me?”

“Sorry, there’s no room, you see its a tiny place I have here.”

“But they will be here soon!”

“I know, they always come eventually.”

“What can I do?”

“There is nothing to do but wait.”

“Where can I hide this?”

“You see the room is empty.”

The room is foreboding, empty of happiness. Only a few wobbly stools, a table and in a corner, an ancient oven. A bright clean cross hangs on a wall. The oven. I can put my camera bag there.

“Where are they now Mrs. Batshala?”

“Soon they will be here. They are in my neighbor’s house.”

The wait was short-lived. Four blues crashed inside. Catching sight of me brings them to a sudden halt.

“What are you doing here?”

“Where’s your permit allowing you to be in a Black area?” Asked the other cop aggressively, leaving me no time to answer the first question.

“We want an answer now!’

“Please let me explain. My reason for being here is that I came to tell Mrs. Batshala here that her mother died of illness last night and that she must arrange the funeral. That is why I’m here.”

“Ja, nee man, that’s okay. We thought you were one of those journalists who writes lies about our country.”

“Me? Oh no Sir, I don’t even have a pen.”

The cops laugh and warn me to leave immediately. The calm resumes.

Nervously I turn to Mrs. Batshala. “That was close.”

“Yes it was.” Nods Mrs. Batshala.

“Mrs. Batshala, don’t worry, I’ll get the photos of the police murdering your daughter to the newspaper. Tomorrow the world will know.”

Outside life is slowly returning to normal as I make my way through the street. An old man with an evenly cut beard, a gnarled stick in one hand, his legs struggling forward, turns to stare at me. Children in a resumed game laugh loudly in pure delight. The stop, look at me and continue their laughter.

Nothing can stop them.

After annotating using a style of your choice (TPCASTT, SCASI, Big 5), think about….


2. While the two events are different, which style of writing has more of an impact on you as a reader? Which one can you envision more? Why?


***Creating questions about the Night and Maus Step 1: List any questions you have about the novel—even the most basic ones. Do not stop to judge or answer your question. Step 2: Pass the questions to the person next to you. This person will circle any closed-ended questions (questions that produce a 1-2 word response). Step 3: Return the questions back to its owner. And the author of the questions will revise the closed-ended questions into open-ended questions. Step 4: On the notecard provided, list your top 3 questions about the novels. Be sure to specify which novel the question is about. Step 5: When you are handed the notecard, please go ahead and answer those questions. Be prepared to share your response.

First and Last Name_____________________________ G10

Comparing and Contrasting Passages

Directions: Read the two passages given to you. Then focus on one of the literary elements below to compare and contrast:

• Language and vocabulary • Symbolism • Theme • Character development

Similarities Differences

Choose 2 of the points above and write a compare/contrast paragraph below, using the CREEC format.

The Sowers by Thomas Hart Benton, 1942

After annotating using a style of your choice (TPCASTT, SCASI, Big 5), think about….

1. How is this artwork similar and different to the text you are reading? Duh, it’s a painting and you read novels. Go beyond the obvious ;).

2. What emotions does this painting evoke?

3. Which images and/or colors are effective in this piece?

4. What medium is the most appropriate for memorializing or representing the

Holocaust?

First and Last Name______________________________ G10

Compare and Contrast Essay Outline: Point-by-Point Thesis: ___________________________________________________________________________________ ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Body Paragraphs Text 1: Text 2:

Claim 1:

Evidence and elaboration Evidence and elaboration

Claim 2:


Claim 3:


Sample Compare and Contrast Essay - "Langston Hughes" Langston Hughes was a central figure in the Harlem Renaissance, the flowering of African-American literature and artistic forms in Manhattan during the 1920s. Not only did his writing promote African-American culture, but it sought to bring attention to the plight of the African-Americans suffering injustice and repression. His poems "I, Too" and "Theme for English B" both advanced his political views of equal civil rights and treatment under the law for African-Americans. Both poems use first-person voices; however the "I" is different for each poem, in order to fulfill Hughes' purpose for the poem.

In Hughes' poem "I, Too," the speaker is not an individual as the word "I" implies. In fact, the "I" represents the entirety of African-Americans living in the United States. That Hughes writes "I am the darker brother" instead of "we are the darker brothers" is no accident (2). The connotation of the word "I" as opposed to "we" is that of a lone individual, defenseless and outnumbered. The speaker says "Theysend me to eat in the kitchen," reinforcing the one-versus-all mentality that Hughes is trying to convey in this poem (3). "We" and "they," give a stronger, more united connotation than "I" does. In this poem, "I" is used to connote weakness, and isolation. As used in this poem, the first-person voice highlights the weakness of the African-American people. However, this is not the only way that Hughes uses "I" in his poetry.

On the other hand, Hughes' poem "Theme for English B," uses the first-person voice for an entirely different effect. In this poem, the "I" is an individual student. The poem is written like a narrative: "I am twenty-two, colored, born in Winston-Salem" (7). Unlike the first poem, "I" is used here to connote strength and singularity. The speaker, an African-American student given an English writing assignment, engages his teacher in an intelligent, even pointed dialog. Hughes artistically makes use of the first-person point of view to enhance the effect of the story. By using words like "I" and "them", "me" and "you," the speaker is able to point out the differences between himself and his teacher. One passage in particular stands out for its incessant juxtaposition of the words "you" and "me":

You are white—

yet a part of me, as I am a part of you.

That's American.

Sometimes perhaps you don't want to be a part of me.

Nor do I often want to be a part of you.

But we are, that's true!

As I learn from you,

I guess you learn from me— (31-38).

Not only does this highlight the differences between the speaker and teacher, but it puts the speaker in a commanding position. The fact that an African-American individual is writing something controversial, and making critical remarks of his teacher—and in such an eloquent way—is a sign of strength and source of pride.

Although these poems both make use of first-person voices, they each make use of voice to different ends. Nonetheless, both poems draw attention to the plight of the African-American people, albeit in different manners. Both poems cry out for civil rights and equality in a time where African-Americans were treated neither civilly nor equally.

First and Last Name______________________________ G10

Compare and Contrast Essay Outline: Block Thesis: ___________________________________________________________________________________ ____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Claim about Text 1

Evidence

Elaboration Conclusion

Claim about Text 2

Evidence

Elaboration Conclusion

***Can use more than 1 piece of evidence, if necessary for text 1

Peer Edit for Compare/Contrast Essay

1. Read the essay all the way through, without making any marks.

2. Underline the thesis. If you cannot find it in or near the introduction, then you need to make note of that on the essay.

3. Star the evidence that supports the thesis. Check to make sure the author has

evidence from both novels. If not, you need to make note of that.

4. Look at the elaboration after the evidence. Does the author elaborate—explaining how and why? If not, please make note that the author should explain how the evidence connects to the thesis.

5. Read the essay one more time, all the way through and circle or highlight any

grammar or spelling errors. Do not fix it for the author!

***Can use more than 1 piece of evidence, if necessary for text 2

g10 holocaust unit - mrs. goffi: 2015-16 school year · 2018. 9. 7. · holocaust film...

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