Year 8 Empathetic Writing: 'The Departure'

YEAR 8 EMPATHETIC WRITING:Â 'THE DEPARTURE'

JESSE OWENS -- from 'How Jesse Owens went from Alabama to Olympic glory', The Telegraph, May 2016 The life of Jesse Owens was no fairy tale. Born in 1913 in Oakville, Alabama, he was the youngest of 10 children and grandson of a slave.

Abraham Lincoln had emancipated the slaves half a century earlier, but his father was a sharecropper – a cog in a semi-feudal system whereby small tenant farmers paid their rent with a share of the crops they raised.

Owens' first contact with someone who grasped his extraordinary athletic potential came at Fairmount Junior High School in Cleveland. Charles Riley noticed the 15-year-old running in the playground and encouraged him to train before school. Owens combined his training schedule with jobs delivering groceries, loading freight cars and working in a shoe repair shop.

Later, Owens was inundated with university offers but opted for Ohio State University, where coach Larry Snyder became a new mentor. Though Ohio offered no track scholarships, Snyder was one of few US coaches who allowed black athletes to compete. To pay his fees, Owens grafted away as a lift operator, pumped gas, waited tables, and became an honorary page at the Ohio Statehouse.

Although he was the first black captain of Ohio State’s athletics team, he was not allowed to live on campus, eat at the same restaurants as white team-mates when travelling, or stay in white-designated hotels.

In 1935 he capped his record of collegiate victories by setting world records in three events (long jump, 220-yard sprint and 220-yard low hurdles) and matching a fourth (100-yard sprint) in just 45 minutes at the Big Ten athletics meeting in Ann Arbor, Michigan.

Four gold medals were what he achieved at the Berlin Olympics a year later, the first televised Games. He won in the 100m and 200m sprint, the 4x100m sprint relay, and the long jump, for which he credited the friendly advice of German jumper Lutz Long. “I decided I wasn’t going to come down. I was going to fly. I was going to stay up in the air forever,” he recalled.

Irrespective of controversy over whether Hitler snubbed him or not, he had emphatically denied the Nazis the propaganda victory they sought for Aryan supremacy. Hitler was appalled, while Owens was, for a time, the most famous man in the world. Yet there was no ambiguity about his reception when he went home. He had received no presidential congratulatory telegram, and there was no invitation waiting to shake the hand of President Franklin D Roosevelt at the White House.

When Owens was stripped of his amateur status soon after, he also lost out on lucrative sponsorship deals. He said; “After I came home from the 1936 Olympics with my four medals, it became increasingly apparent that everyone was going to slap me on the back, want to shake my hand or have me up to their suite. But nobody was going to offer me a job.”

In the years that followed, Owens took many different diverse jobs, from starting a dry-cleaning business to a government role as director of national fitness; from being an African-American personnel director at Ford to working as a training and running coach for the New York Mets.

COMPOSING 'THE DEPARTURE' Whilst 8.2 were reading The Book Thief, they also carried out a range of writing exercises on themes related to the novel. They read extracts from John Berger's Here Is Where We Meet, exploring how memory can conjure ghostly presences from our past; responded to illustrations from Shaun Tan's The Arrival; drew upon extracts from Refugee Tales; used poetry such as W.H .Auden's 'Refugee Blues' to amplify the quality of their prose and reflected upon range of short philosophical pieces on the nature of power.

The boys carried out research into the years running up to the start of World War 2, considering closely the plight of the Jewish people within Germany at that time.

The process and examples of the boys' writing follows. The work follow a general structure, the purpose of this was to scaffold opportunity for contemplation and to experiment with language, raising up nuance of expression to support complex ideas.

THE TASKS 1. POWER In Germany in the rise to WW2 and during WW2, Hitler established what is called a 'totalitarian state' - a society in which everything that people think, do and say are controlled by a dictatorship government.

Controlling what people think is obviously the hardest thing to achieve - propaganda and coercion were used.

Power is taken away from the people in totalitarian states, claiming any form of personal, independent power is seen as an act of resistance. In Nazi Germany, particular minority groups were persecuted, including the Jews.

You will have read a little about this in The Book Thief - we will do a little research in activity 2 to find out more about this.

First of all, think about how power is created. Look at the quotations below. Write a few sentences responding to any of the ideas presented. Do you agree or disagree with any of the statements. Why? Why not? Don't worry about being right or wrong or having complete thoughts - just have a go!

'Knowledge is power.' -- Francis Bacon 'Knowledge is power but only wisdom is liberty.' -- William Durant 'Knowledge is not power. Knowledge is only potential power. Action is Power.' -- Anthony Robbins 'Nobody gives your power, you just take it.' -- Ghadar Amer

2. HISTORICAL RESEARCH / ACTIVE READING AND NOTE-TAKING a)What was life like in Germany for Jewish people in the run up to WW2. Find out about Kristallnacht. b) Find out about the 1936 Olympics. Why do you think people consider Jesse Owen's success so important?

Spend about ten minutes reading online and noting your ideas down. Use the Cornell note-taking document to guide you.

KRISTALLNACHT

W. H. Auden: 'Refugee Blues' Say this city has ten million souls, Some are living in mansions, some are living in holes: Yet there’s no place for us, my dear, yet there’s no place for us.

Once we had a country and we thought it fair, Look in the atlas and you’ll find it there: We cannot go there now, my dear, we cannot go there now.

In the village churchyard there grows an old yew, Every spring it blossoms anew; Old passports can’t do that, my dear, old passports can’t do that.

The consul banged the table and said: ‘If you’ve got no passport, you’re officially dead’; But we are still alive, my dear, but we are still alive.

Went to a committee; they offered me a chair; Asked me politely to return next year: But where shall we go today, my dear, but where shall we go today?

Came to a public meeting; the speaker got up and said: ‘If we let them in, they will steal our daily bread’; He was talking of you and me, my dear, he was talking of you and me.

Thought I heard the thunder rumbling in the sky; It was Hitler over Europe, saying: ‘They must die’; We were in his mind, my dear, we were in his mind.

Saw a poodle in a jacket fastened with a pin, Saw a door opened and a cat let in: But they weren’t German Jews, my dear, but they weren’t German Jews.

Went down the harbour and stood upon the quay, Saw the fish swimming as if they were free: Only ten feet away, my dear, only ten feet away.

Walked through a wood, saw the birds in the trees; They had no politicians and sang at their ease: They weren’t the human race, my dear, they weren’t the human race.

Dreamed I saw a building with a thousand floors, A thousand windows and a thousand doors; Not one of them was ours, my dear, not one of them was ours.

Stood on a great plain in the falling snow; Ten thousand soldiers marched to and fro: Looking for you and me, my dear, looking for you and me.

On November 9 to November 10, 1938, in an incident known as “Kristallnacht”, Nazis in Germany torched synagogues, vandalized Jewish homes, schools and businesses and killed close to 100 Jews. In the aftermath of Kristallnacht, also called the “Night of Broken Glass,” some 30,000 Jewish men were arrested and sent to Nazi concentration camps.

German Jews had been subjected to repressive policies since 1933, when Nazi Party leader Adolf Hitler (18891945) became chancellor of Germany. However, prior to Kristallnacht, these Nazi policies had been primarily nonviolent. After Kristallnacht, conditions for German Jews grew increasingly worse.

During World War II (1939-45), Hitler and the Nazis implemented their so-called “Final Solution” to the what they referred to as the “Jewish problem,” and carried out the systematic murder of some 6 million European Jews in what came to be known as the Holocaust.

3. READ AND REFLECT a) Read W.H. Auden's poem 'Refugee Blues'. b) List three or four of the big ideas it presents. c) Pick out 3 or four lines or quotations that stand out to you - comment on why you think the language is effective. What is it about Auden's phrasing that made you select it?

4.GENERATE IMAGINATIVE EVENTS AND JOURNEYS FROM IMAGES Consider the set of images from Shaun Tan's The Arrival.

Label each image in as much detail as possible. Take care with the words that you use. We will convert your observations into some paragraphs of creative prose. Label ordinary elements, fine details and extraordinary things.

5. CREATE FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE FROM INFORMATION RICH IMAGES Return to the image labels and use them to generate lines for your creative writing.

Think about the texture and length of the sentences you write. Select your vocabulary carefully for impact and nuanced meaning.

6. GENRE. EXPLORING CHALLENGING GENRES OF WRITING AND USING AUTHORS' WORK AS STYLE MODELS FOR YOUR OWN - JOHN BERGER AND HAUNTOLOGY

Pupil's digital annotations of extracts from the novel.

CULTURAL CAPITAL In addition to the historical research you have carried out and the literary style models you have examined, research the culture, customs and traditions of the 1930s German-Jewish community that you are writing about. List traditional names that might suit your characters. Search for traditional recipes and folk songs.

THE WRITE-UP You are going to write from the point of view of a father who decides to flee Germany before the start of WW2. You will write in third person and past tense. Discuss use of first person or movement between first and third person, if you have specific ideas.

1. POWER AND CONTEXT PARAGRAPH Write a short paragraph using the format to guide you. Use the sentence starters provided to help you, if you wish, or compose your own.

They say [insert your chosen power quotation] and [insert man's name from your research] agreed/disagreed [select appropriate verb]. He believed that [insert reflection on power quotation - you may need to adapt your reflections to suit the paragraph, the other quotations might help here too] and in a context of [give information about limitations for freedoms in pre-war Germany] he decided to [insert comment about leaving home, country - why and why this is a difficult decision].

2. REFUGEE BLUES PARAGRAPH Re-read ‘Refugee Blues’ and use the ideas you listed in the development process help you with this section.

Give yourself the sub-heading 'Refugee Blues' and write a short paragraph extending information about your character's thoughts about departure. Use the sentence starters below if you wish. You should write about 5 or 6 sentences.

SENTENCE STARTERS [Insert name] reflected on his city. He thought about...

The living conditions in the city were ...

He cast his mind back to how things used to be. He thought about ...

They said he no longer belonged. How could that be the case when ....?

Loss of identity and respect made him feel ...

Neighbours and previous friends now...

There was an ominous feeling in the air...

Europe felt like...

3. IMAGE REFLECTION WRITE UP (within the home) Next, return to look at the images from The Arrival that you annotated during the development process. You are going to use these ideas, and the sentences you have already composed, to write about what your main character leaves behind and what he packs. Look over the images and then begin to write. You could make this material into two paragraphs. Use the sentence starters below to help you if you wish to.

Relevant images can be found on on pages 2 and 3 of The Arrival.

SENTENCE STARTERS - He cast his eyes over his home and...

- His eyes rested up [insert item] and he recollected ....

- He looked at other ordinary objects such as...

- They may have seemed ordinary to an outside but...

- When he held [item] in his hands, he remembered...

- He could not take all of these things with him, but...

- He decided to pack...

Alternate the pronoun 'he' with the character name you chose.

4. IMAGE REFLECTION WRITE UP ('Metaphorical Streets') Revisit the images from The Arrival of the shadowy streets. Look at the annotations you made and improve them. What do the shadows represent in the context of your story? Politics, totalitarian politics, threat of persecution, threat of death, regret, memories, loss...?

Compose two paragraphs for this section. Write about the moment the family leaves. Use details from the images to help you. Use the guidance ideas below to help you if you wish.

PARAGRAPH 1 3/4 x sentences about leaving in the night / undercover of darkness / stealing away + idea of destination e.g. to docks or train station with hope of making it to another country.

PARAGRAPH 2 4/5 sentences about travelling through the city in the shadows + the shadows following and trying to grasp the family. Use metaphorical form - refer to the shadows are something else. E.g. 'A sense of evil intent and the possibility of being captured crept all around them.' Another example: 'Memories flooded the streets, snaking around their ankles, trying to hold them back from leaving.'

5. RETURNING MANY YEARS LATER – FROM POINT OF VIEW OF FATHER 1. Write a sentence that provides the information the father is returning post-war.

2. Write 3 or 4 sentences describing the kitchen (refer to the images from The Arrival again and aim for the level of detail in Berger’s first paragraph. You might refer to views the father can see through the window too.

3. Referring to page 2 of the extract – describe the memory of a person in the kitchen or through the window as if it is happening now. E.g. ‘In the warm glow of the room he could see her sat at the kitchen table. She…’ You might use a short sentence at the end of this section to confirm who the person is like Berger does. ‘It was my mother’. Obviously you can change who the person is.

4. NEW PARAGRAPH Things to include in this section: aromas in the kitchen / memories of cooking (use the recipe you researched); music playing (record player, humming – use the folk song you researched, you might even quote some lyrics in your writing. You should write about these elements as living memories too.

6a. THE LOST YEARS – IDEAS TAKEN FROM Refugee Tales Read the 'Voluntary Returner's Tale' from Refugee Tales and carry out the tasks after them. We are going to use them as a model to write an impression of what happens to the father character and his family in the years after they leave their home and the father returning to the house after the war. These sections will slot in in between ‘metaphorical streets’ and the hauntology style paragraphs you wrote in the last lesson. · Write a section describing the father’s experience as a refugee. Remember to keep it era specific (1930s/40s). · Use my sentence starters to help but also use your own ideas. · You should write in first person and write in single lines, not paragraphs. As per the example. · NB WW2 was 6 years long but the family may be away for a longer time. Numbers under 10 should be written up in full, i.e. ‘one, two, three’ etc.

SENTENCE STARTER/ IDEAS - Start most of the sentences with the number of years you have been away from your home as in the example.

- Write a sentence that states what type of man you are / an important character virtue.

- A line about how you dealt with the struggle of being away from home.

- Write several lines about things being up in the air / not knowing what will happen next / if return is possible.

- Write several lines about other things you experienced – e.g. glimpses into trying to find a job, to achieve formal asylum seeker / refugee status – note that ships of refugees were turned away from countries during WW2 - Write a line about the emotion state this has left you in.

6b. THE LOST YEARS – IDEAS TAKEN FROM Refugee Tales Read the extract from ‘The Soldier’s Tale’. In this section you are going to address the topic of what you think it is fair to expect from the world, as a global citizen.

Read the extract and underline ideas about what we should have a right to. You can also find the list of the UN’s universal human rights here: https://www.un.org/en/universal-declaration-human-rights/ Write a paragraph that includes the following things: A rhetorical question posed by the father character. E.g. ‘What so we want from the world?’ ‘Why is man cruel to man?’

Your character's reflections on that question.

Discussion of what the range of experiences that people might have in their life times e.g. of cruelty , of generosity etc. This should link back to the topic posed in the rhetorical question.

Write a few lines about what you were ‘left to imagine’ during the war and what you found out after the end of war. You do not go into detail but could for instance write about how the awful rumours of extermination camps were confirmed as the allies liberated Auschwitz and Bergen-Belsen.

Write a small hope for human kind in the recovery years. post-war.

DRAW TOGETHER A FINAL DRAFT AND PROOF READ Put all of the sections for this creative writing piece into one document. They should go in this order: - power and context - refugee blues - image write-up (home) - image write up (metaphorical streets) - the lost years (both tasks) - returning / hauntology section Remove any sub-headings and proofread carefully.

PUPILS' WRITING JAMIE LOGAN Knowledge is not power, it is only potential for power. Action is power. Aaron agreed, if only partially. He believed that while having knowledge is great, actually doing something with it is the purpose of having it in the first place. This was a stark truth in a context of totalitarian politics: tightening of restrictions squeezed Jewish jobs and the threat of ghettos loomed.

Aaron decided to act on the knowledge he had and his gut instinct. He knew this was only the beginning and that things would get worse. It became increasingly essential to depart from his homeland, entering into the dangers of the wider world. This would mean leaving behind the only place he had ever known, and this stirred every memory, good and bad.

He was welcome in the town of his birth, now had no place. Even those living in poverty and on the the streets - if they were not Jewish - were more welcome. Blocked from leaving his own country, the one he lived in, worked in and slept in for his entire life, he felt trapped and afraid.

If you looked on a map, any map, Germany was still there, it still existed but it was no longer his homeland. It was as if Aaron had disappeared, dispersed in the wind. The passports, which held his life in the balance, were of use no more, throwing him into an abyss of confusion. Officially dead they said, yet there he stood alive and well, but dead to society nevertheless.

Taken down from the top of the dresser, a container he would decant his life into, a suitcase. Looking around, Aaron's eyes flitted over his possessions. He realised that he would not be able to take even a fraction of the things he owned. His eyes finally settled on a photo, a window to better times. In it, his wife and his child, all happy. This seemed like a million miles away in a different life time. Aaron picked it up and placed in the case. A the sentimentality of a cracked teapot and the necessity of trousers and woolens: their entire life in a single bag, stood on the table before him.

Aaron swept the curtains closed, it was time. His suitcase was packed, and that night they had lain in bed for a few hours, restless with fear. So, they were leaving this house and all of the memories it held, for the hope of a better future.

Taking one last look around his house, Aaron threw on his coat. Seeing that his wife and child had followed suit, he cracked the door and looked out. Pools of light, spilling out from lamp posts illuminates patches of pavement, islands in the frighting black, murky soup of darkness that wrapped around everything else in the street. They stepped out and were enveloped by the clutches of the night.

Every step carried the weight of being watched, by something just out of sight, just around the corner. Every minor sound seemed to announce their presence. The docks, despite only being half a mile away, seemed to be on the other side of Germany, a maze of streets resisting their exit plan. Every glance seemed to reveal a new enemy, a shadow made sinister by the dark, twisted by the buildings, shadows that seems to conspire to hold them back.

They hurried out of the house and into the grey streets, darting amongst the shadows of the monsters that we eating up their home, their country. The looming threat of politics that had killed thousands, would kill many more. ................................................

I tolerated a lot before the war bloomed blood-red across the globe. Now, I am simply overwhelmed, drowning in despair. It is too much for a man to bear. Nine years since have passed since I knew what if meant to be safe. It has been nine years since I had a full stomach. It has been nine years since I lay in the bed that I called my own and nine years since I have rested. For nine years I have been denied my nationality, blocked from the only home I have ever known. It is nine years since I lost my wife and daughter. Nine years too many. How can a man carry such atrocities through his life?

Fear that rumours are reality haunts my sleep. Each day I hear of men doing things that no man should ever do. Deeds that should never be done. It is impossible to believe the magnitude of the horror. I can only hope that humankind can change, grow, evolve. ................................................

He counted: 152, 154, 156... and there it was, without a scratch, a bullet hole or even a smashed window. It was just as he remembered it. He unlocked the door and pushed it open.

It was surreal, like a frozen moment in time, before all the fighting had begun. Aaron looked around the kitchen; not a thing had moved. Pans were still on the stove, cups still sat on the counter, and hung on the wall. Photographs on the piano remained: reminders of better times.

As his rested his eyes on the table, there she was! Her legs swinging from the chair, she was sewing. He walked around the table to take a look at her face and took in a sharp breath. It was his daughter. He could smell the warm challah bread baking in the oven as he sat down to contemplate her. Deydl was crackling out of the gramophone in the corner.

He looked at her. She hadn’t taken notice of him yet. “Ariella?" Aaron managed, holding back the tears. Her face turned up to his, the sewing paused in his hands. “Ariella, I’m so very sorry." He wept and his daughter's face remained calm.

Aaron moved to place his hand over hers, but she was gone, a memory, faded away. Ariella had been lost to Auschwitz some four years since.

MIKA LORGAT Some believe that knowledge is the most powerful weapon to wield against your enemy, but in this case, Aaron most certainly disagreed. He believed, in general, that knowledge was a powerful weapon, but knowledge of his persecution did not produce any vantage point.

His lived context was in flux. He didn’t have time to think, nor would he have been able to if he did pause.

His fight or flight mechanism had decided it was time to leave his home for good.

This is what had become of him. He had exiled himself from his country, a runaway because the truth was too big to face. The world was changing, and fast too. He cast aside anchoring memories. Europe looked different, smelt different, sounded different. There were many others like him, he wasn’t the only one and their existence teetered on the edge of the map.

They had left in the dead of night. The slightest sound conjured monsters. Home had become the promise of death.

Aaron had no idea of their destination, but they hoped it was Nazi free. They carried insecurity in their bags and hesitated at corners. In the darkness, he imagined watching the sunset, care-free. Family security was a distant paradise.

The city made their journey harder for them, producing obstacles for them to overcome. The city was treacherous.

The pavements amplified their footsteps and the roads whispered about them.

Aaron still had an atom's weight of hope inside him, and this compelled him forwards. Perhaps life was just temporarily over.

BEN MAHER They said, ‘Knowledge is only potential power. Action is power’, and Timo agreed politely. He believed that this was true, that knowledge, if used correctly, could allow all people to have power. He believed in the right to convert personal knowledge into action. He was afraid, however, so he agreed politely, in silence and in inaction.

Knowledge is not power unless it is combined with other qualities, to create power. War was brewing, citizens were trapped and needed help. It was easy to gather a crowd as a leader and Hitler knew how to create a rally. He used knowledge to create agreement through fear. He used knowledge to create exile and silence through fear.

Timo decided to step back into the shadows.

Germany started to eat Germany. Krystallnacht: citizens destroyed the livelihoods of other citizens. Citizens left communities desolate. Timo had nothing left. He reflected on his city and thought about how it was now owned by authority. This was cruelty. Authority made it quite clear that Timo didn’t belong. That Jewish people and a growing list of others did not belong.

He packed essentials into one small bag. No wants, only needs. He looked around his home. He left in the eerie silence of the night, a shadow moving through silence and darkness.

TOBY GREENWOOD They say “knowledge is power” and Abraham agreed. He trusted that knowledge could improve anything, including injustice. He decided to leave Germany because he knew it was necessary to leave. He wanted to change the world for good and this could not be achieved from within limitations and threat of violent persecution. His father deeply disagreed with Abraham's decision but his son felt like his mind was imprisoned and that inside Germany he could no longer make decisions for himself. He cast his mind back about how things used to be. He thought about the precious free-flow of knowledge. Now, knowledge was silenced by the crack of thunder of Hitler's voice.

His city was no longer a place for Jews. There was an ominous feeling in the air. Europe harboured danger around every corner. Loss of identity and respect reassigned some people as sub-human. The love of neighbours and previous friends was converted to bullets in guns.

Abraham cast his eyes over his home. He could not take any of these things and so focused hard upon them to try to store them in his head to enjoy in later times with no tension and terror. He put on his hat and put the picture of his family in his leather bound briefcase.

Abraham walked the streets of Berlin, hiding in shadows and mist. The cracked light of the lampposts illuminated the streets with a mossy-green colour of disgust. He reached the station in the cold climate of the night. The train hissed in the darkness and he climbed onto the back of it with determination and hope.

SAM ENTWISTLE

LEWIS BAILEY I am a strong and dignified man but I have endured too much.

Seven years of being away from my family, seven missed years of my children's growth, seven years of not knowing if I’ll make it to the next day, seven years not knowing if I’ll get to see my family again, seven years of wondering if they are safe and seven years of being denied that knowledge are just too many to years to carry.

So many years of discrimination.

Seven years without identity, lost in the wind.

Why is humankind so cruel to its own? I believe we are suffering the cumulative consequences of our actions: war, disease and destruction.

Terrible rumours about a destination called Auschwitz rumbled around Europe. Does a small hope for humankind remain as we reflect in the opening horrors of what man has done to man?

ALEXANDER COOK There was an ominous feeling in the air. Europe knew Germany was dangerous. Europe could feel the tension building.

Ben Schmidt cast is eyes over his home and thought about all the good things he had accumulated here. His eyes rested upon ordinary objects: plates from which they had eaten simple food and over which they had shared such joy.

They had been his mothers. They may have seemed ordinary to an outsider but they were the simple tools of family connection.

Hans reflected on his city and the current crisis. He thought about how the war affected his loved ones, his neighbours and his own personal health.

There was an ominous feeling in the air as he walked down into the bunker, all eyes upon him, watching, staring; the mix of disgusted empathetic looks burrowed into his brain. The others were waiting for him to act.

Europe felt like a closed community that no longer welcomed him in. All but few said he did not belong.

He remembered the times when he felt free to walk through the streets.

Hans knew the only way to be recognised as a citizen was to participate in the war itself. He enlisted to conceal the fact that his sympathies lay with the persecuted.

DEJI FATUNDE He was petrified of returning to Germany, but was caught in a no man's land between the boundaries of allies who one by one turned their shoulder to him. Yossi was isolated, trapped and without a clear sense of home.

He hoped for hope at sea and drowning in melancholy.

This is the territory of deep sadness, plain and simple, no superlatives needed.

“Was schulden sie sich gegenseitig? Loyalität, Hass, Mitgefühl, Ressentiments und Vergebung. Haben Sie etwas davon diesem Land zu verdanken?” What did he friends owe to him?

Loyalty, hatred, compassion, resentment or forgiveness?

Providing a safe haven for your friend was to take your life into your own hands in these dark times. His friends could barely forgive him for asking for asylum in their homes.

All territory was political - private homes and private thoughts were all now the property of the state.

RYAN COOMBES They had argued long and hard over his shop counter and eventually settled on the understanding that knowledge is not power, action is power. Azrael agreed. He believed that you could only have power, if you had the initiative to seize it for yourself. In a context of Jewish persecution, that conclusion also concluded his deliberation upon whether or not he should act.

He decided to pack up his things, to leave Germany. Azrael was afraid for his safety. He had struggled with this decision as it would involve leaving behind everything. The only other choice was to stay and be tortured.

Azrael reflected on his city. He thought about childhood. He had always been happy, despite the crashing German economy. His neighbourhood had always welcomed people from all backgrounds. Now, in the hold of a totalitarian dictatorship, there was no place for Jews. He cast his mind back before the hate and breathed through his despair.

He would only be able to take what he could fit in his suitcase. Everything else would be left in the past. Azrael packed essentials and finally took down a picture his son had drawn from above the mantlepiece, and put it in his suitcase too. He sealed the case, and looked round for the last time. The detail of everything that he had to leave behind rose before him. A tear rolled down his cheek as he turned to the door. Grabbing his hat, coat and suitcase, he ushered his family through the door and left his home for what he believed would be the last time.

His journey began under the cover of darkness. His destination was the docks, but getting there would prove very challenging. If he made it to the docks, he and his family could stow away on a boat to get to a different country.

Putting his arm around his wife, and his other arm around his child, he pulled them close and propelled them forwards.

There was a shadow over the neighbourhood. Hitler glowered down over this district of rich differences. ............................................................................

Seven years ago, I left my home. Seven years ago, I was a different man. Seven years ago, I would have smiled at you as you passed me by, but now, that is impossible. Seven years ago, I left Germany with my family, voyaging into the unknown. Seven years ago, we were rejected by various countries, until one finally accepted us. Seven years ago, I didn’t know if I would return. I remain uncertain. Seven years ago, I had valuable qualifications. Seven years ago, my own country turned on me for my difference. Seven years ago, we left looking for acceptance. We remain refugees.

Why does humans turn on themselves? On the outside, people can seem so different to each other. We are different to each other, in terms of race, country of origin, religion, sexuality, politics and personal experience. On the inside though, do we not find that many things are the same?

I have spoken to many people who fled from Hitler. His sphere of cruelty and fear widened over Europe and beyond. The level of cruelty a person received was different to the person next to them but everybody suffered. ..............................................................................

He stepped inside, and looked around his kitchen. Drawers were overturned; cutlery lay everywhere, amongst shards of smashed glass. A glass, astoundingly, sat where he had last placed it. Beyond the window, Azrael saw people, just like him, returning to their dilapidated homes. He turned and picked up a chair that was overturned on the floor.

As Azrael sat and looked across his dining table, he could almost see them, smiling at him. His wife and daughter, just sat there in irretrievable world of before. He could hear the once a joyous kitchen, filled with laughter. He could hear strains of his daughter singing, ‘Chad gadya, chad gadya. Dizabin abah bitrei zuzei.’ The lyrics washed over him.

OLLIE EVANS They were going to leave their home, in the darkness of the night, hoping to find a better place to live.

They were aiming to make it to a new country and to a sense of peace, but if they didn't make it that far, they would be happy enough to be away from immediate danger.

They drifted from shadow to shadow to avoid any passersby, as they could never be to sure who it was safe to trust, and it was better to be safe than sorry. The family held each other's hands as tightly as they could. Anxiety ran through their bodies. From time to time they paused in alley ways, in the darkness, listening for silence.

The shadows hung over Abraham, a silent, violent threat.

DIMITRIS DEMERTZIS Levi believed that knowledge is power, but only wisdom is liberty. He believed that regardless of whatever amount of knowledge a person has, that is of no positive consequence if they cannot exercise it justly. Superior knowledge might give the power to manipulate, but wisdom is an important subset of knowledge and offers something greater than simply a way to limit others. In a country where the Führer was an arch manipulator of power for his own gain, Levi he decided to leave the country once and for all.

Levi knew that it would be an ordeal to leave Germany and to start a new life in another part of the world, but he knew it was the wise thing to do. There would be losses. Neighbours and friends would have to fade to make room for new ones. He must pull up his roots to survive.

Levi contemplated his home, facing the sweet-sorrow of the memories it held, His eyes were filled with tears as he swiftly packed his suitcase, absorbing the familiar tick of his antique clock. Unfortunately, it was time to go.

The pitch black sky covered Levi like a cloak. As Levi he made his way through the network of roads, a strange feeling settled over him, a feeling he had never had before. The shadows around him were bigger and deeper. It was wise to leave.

WILL MALLEY They say, ‘nobody gives you power, you just take it’ and Pinchas Müller completely disagreed with this statement.

He believed that you had to earn power, that you were not simply entitled to it. He believed those that take power are the ones with deep insecurities. He also believed that there was more power in being knowledgeable than there was in being rich, and he believed that possessing power did not necessarily lead to happiness.

In 1936 things were considerably different to how they are now. Pinchas told his grandchildren stories about how Jesse Owens wiped the floor with the rest of the athletes in the 1936 Berlin Olympics and took the podium in front of Hitler himself! He also liked to talk about how he had to hide his best friend, Baruch Schmidt, in the basement of the Müller family home after his family went missing one night. The boys returned to Baruch's house to discover it empty. He tried to explain that sometimes you need wrestle back power from those who take it.

The boys tried to imagine what had caused the family to flee and to flee without Baruch. They worked this out as the number of house raids began to pick up. .............................................................

Baruch sat, small, in the house they had lived in. He picked up his sister's crayon-drawn family portrait and decided to fold it and put it in his shorts pockets.

He looked over the ordinary household objects around him. He could see his mother's hands resting on the teapot.

He knew his family were no longer in the city.

Who had given them up? Had people who they thought to be their friends stabbed them in the back? It was a dark, dark night, darker than despair. The shadows crept in through the windows and nightmares flooded the streets an monsters crowded Baruch's mind.

Baruch sat, small, in the house he had grown up in and sobbed.

ADAM FAULKNER They say the day the power of love can defeat the love of power and that when it does, the world will be at peace. Daniel had no faith that day would come. The longer he thought about it, the more convinced he became that there would always be something that would bring conflict to our species.

After the Great War they declared the world was at peace. Then, Adolf Hitler asked Germany to follow him into his vision of a brave new future.

He could still hear the smashing and the screams of Kristallnacht. What choice was there other than to flee?

Daniel thought about his home town, the smell of the bakery in the morning, the sound of the birds singing, the feeling of the morning air rushing down from the mountains. What had happened to this town to make it so different from what it used to be? It was a shell of what it used to be. People who he once thought of as friends had turned their backs on him. People he had grown up looked at him and saw a monster.

Europe was in chaos and the repercussions were tangible, even in this small German town.

Daniel had no choice but to leave. The placed the picture his daughter had drawn, and a folded dove his son had made, on top of other essential items. With a heavy heart he pushed the case closed and fastened the locks. The kitchen felt so empty around him, a deafening silence. His family waited in the hallway.

Covered by the shadows of the night they crept away hoping they would not be noticed. The silence was unbearable but it was what they needed. The train left in two hours and if they missed it, they would be over, the dream of being free again would be gone. Their forged papers were folded and placed for safe keeping in the inside pocket of his jacket.

The shadows watched and followed, ready to pounce. The family kept on going, holding hands tightly. The youngest child was unaware of what was going on, and dragged his feet. ................................................................................

Five years away from home. I’m a shy man at heart, never rushing into things, always taking my time. The feeling of staying away from home was almost unbearable, the thought that I would return one day kept me from insanity.

We began to hear what had been happening at the labour camps but I pushed those thoughts away. Auschwitz was the horror of liberation. As a grown man I had been right to quiver and hide. Tentatively, I wonder if hope is now possible again. .................................................................................

He walked back into the kitchen and was hit by a wall of memories. The bowls were still there, the framed print still hung in its place. From the window you could see the oak still standing tall against the clouds. The songs of birds had not noticing that anything had changed. The familiar aroma of the house was overwhelming and as he turned, he saw her.

She sat there, book in hand, quietly smiling. The woman he loved sat before him and it was with great pain that he acknowledged that his was just the memory of her. Music began to play and he turned to see his children, hand in hand, dancing.

The scene changed. He now watched his wife cooking breakfast for them all. It was a special ocassion, the son's birthday. The boy looked so happy, nothing could be better, and he was right.

The scene changed for a final time. This time it was dark. The table lamp was on and everyone was cuddled into the sofa. The slight sound of giggling rose as he read to them from a favourite book. He didn't even care to recollect the book's title, he only cared about the joy on their faces and the warmth that there once was.

The memory of laughter and pure happiness flooded his face with tears.

CHARLIE PARROTT They knew I’d chosen. Noa disagreed with my plan and stared at me intensely. He believed my departure would cause serious pain in our family. I knew he thought I would be jeopardising the safety of everyone I left behind. I had already decided that I would leave once everyone had gone to bed. I would be gone when they woke in the morning.

Elijah reflected on his city. He thought about how much had changed. Their living conditions were now strained.

They said he no longer belonged and the community supported them as they were afraid of the repercussions. There was an gaseous feeling of hatred in the air that was swirling up into a storm. Europe felt ominously ignorant.

He cast his eyes over his home and thought back to the good times. The time had come to leave and it was painful.

He pushed a tear from his cheek as he stepped outside into the eerie darkness of the night.

They had abandoned their life. Elijah looked at his daughter in his arms and pondered about the life he had given her.

Not much could be done to change course not; with forged papers they boarded the next train to the Netherlands. The family hadn’t travelled much at all, maybe a trip out of the town but never out of the country. A long journey loomed ahead.

How can two of things the same be treated so differently? What drives the cruelty and hate inside of people’s minds?

Elijah stared into unanswerable questions.

WILL MARTIN They say ‘Knowledge is not power. Knowledge is only potential power. Action is power’, and David agreed. He believed that, whilst you can have some power with knowledge, it would not be highly effective. To make a difference, you need to push knowledge into action.

You cannot just take national power, you need to have the backing the people around you and the population. David felt that the majority country was against him, or at least coerced to be so.

David reflected on his city. He thought about how it had changed so suddenly and dramatically. The drop in trade made it a challenge to keep a roof above their heads. He cast his mind back to how things used to be. He thought about how it used to be such a wonderful place to live and enjoy his life. They said he no longer belonged. How could that be?

Loss of identity and respect made him feel lonely and sometimes quite scared. Neighbours and previous friends now coiled back in the street when he passed. There was an ominous feeling in the air; people could sense what was coming.

Europe felt like it was on the brink of changing forever, that it would never be the same.

David sat in the kitchen of his home and remembered all the happy times he had experienced here over the years. His eyes rested upon his child’s drawing of the family and he thought about how she had grown up so fast. David looked at other ordinary objects such as the old wooden clock above the stove and the cracked teapot.

They may have seemed ordinary to an outsider but, to him, they they were the background sound of his family life and morning routine. He picked up an origami bird from the shelf, holding it gently in his hands. He remembered how, as a family, they spent the afternoon trying to make a successful version.

He could not take all these things with him, but the clock, an heirloom, could not be left behind.

David and his family left in the dead of night, with the hope that they would not get caught. The city was deserted, and it was easy for them to stick to the shadows. Darkness crept around them, trying to swallow them into the night.

Memories flooded the alleys, willing them to stop and submit to their fate in the city. ...............................................................

What do we want from the world? Why is man cruel to man? The war produced acts of unspeakable and horrific persecution. I am compelled to look away, but I know that we cannot.

The rumours we heard were confirmed by the Allies as they liberated the concentration camps. We can only hope that humankind will never return to such darkness again.

ANISH PATEL We traveled through the murky darkness, the pungent fumes and steely buildings. The night was like a maze. We tried to find our way and didn't dare to be seen. Our destination was the city's port; the one possible exit out of this mess. Once we reached it, I trusted we would know what to do.

The darkness tried to enclose us and breathed down our necks as we walked through the memory-ridden city.Memories flowed through the streets. The fear of capture tightened around us - we felt dreadful and anxious.

We could almost taste the sea air of the port, it was so close. ........................................................

Almost a decade had passed. Amos walked into his old home and into the kitchen. Fabulous scents and aromas of his mother's cooking rose from his memory. He could hear the sizzling of onions, the gentle bubbling of the slowcooked meat. The scent of his mother's flavourful cholent and the often cooked shahshuka were so easily summoned, the spices singing in unison with each other. His daughter sat laughing and joking at the table. If only she was actually present. He could do nothing to recall her for real.

Amos stood, walked to the gramophone. The records were long gone, but he raised the inky black stylus and tested it on his finger - klezmer, 'Hava Nagila', played in his head.

FRASER SACKFIELD Germany. 1939. The start of World War 2. Yosef's freedoms were restricted and he was treated as a lesser being.

His children were barred from public schools and all of his wealth had been stripped from him. It was time to flee.

Yosef was German born and raised but he knew that if he stayed his life would be even more miserable and difficult then it already was. It was difficult for his children to understand that they were not treated equally to the people they know.

Yosef reflected on his city, his home for most of his life. He thought about the times when he was a young boy.

Neighbours and former friends now looked at him like dirt. They pretended they didn't know him.

Yosef liked to feel in control and that was the one thing he didn’t have anymore. Bags: fully packed. Only the bare essentials left. There was no point bringing things like a clock or a broken teapot. They would only slow them down. The children packed everything they had. Yosef knew how hard this was for the and didn't try to stop them.

He held up a piece of paper, drawn on by him when he was young. He folded it carefully and put it in his inside pocket.

The family slunk through the streets. The darkness covered them. Only metres away from their home and Yosef could feel that his family were losing faith like water in a sieve. He held his daughter's hand and hummed, softly, the same song he had sung since she was lay in her crib: 'numi, numi yaldati, numi numi nim'. It soothed him just as much as it calmed her down.

JOE WELSBY Years of working to put food on my family’s table.

Years of disagreeing with how the country is being run.

Years of being an outsider.

Europe was on its knees at this disgrace of a time. Roem reflected upon how people in 100 years time would interpret this situation. The world, that had once promised fairness and kindness, now only offered the opposite.

He tried to imagine the world without division. Perhaps that was a world for the generations to come. For now, it was only going to get worse. He did not know if the world would recover but he just hoped his family could stay safe.