Voices from the Railcar by Lake Forest Country Day School

Voices From the Railcar Poems and Art by Angelique Alexos Emilio Alvarez Asher Anderson Emma Bedward Henry Bernhart Rohan Gudivaka Eva Hanson Charlotte Ihlanfeldt Charlotte Kelliher Caitlin Kolb Jackson Kriger Lauren McShea Alex Mutter Obi Okoli Anne Seaman Anna Schilling Scott Skinner Nicole Tong Mia Walvoord

Edited by Mia Walvoord and Kim Bell Cover Art by Nicole Tong

Introduction The Holocaust was a devastating period of time in which the Nazis from Germany tried to achieve world domination. WWII began in September 1, 1939, when Germany, under the power of Adolf Hitler, invaded Poland. Hitler and the Nazis committed genocide against the Jewish people and many other ethnic groups. In Hitler’s eyes, the perfect human being had blond hair and blue eyes. People who did not have these features were persecuted and ruthlessly murdered. Overall, Hitler ended the lives of 11 million people before the Allied Forces stopped his merciless killing spree. Out of the 11 million people killed, 6 million were Jewish people who were the scapegoats of German suffering. The Germans used death camps and concentration camps to kill many people during the Holocaust. There were 6 death camps in total and 20,000 concentration camps. Concentration camps had many different uses. Some of their uses were for labor, for murder, for torture, and prisoner of war camps. One of the most infamous death camps was Auschwitz, which killed nearly 2 million people. This camp was the worst camp out of all the camps. The “healthy” prisoners were sent to do endless labor, and the weak were sent to the gas chambers to be executed. The victims of the Holocaust were transported to these death camps by train. While few of these original railcars still exist, we were inspired by a documentary about one that is part of a memorial in Whitwell, TN. In our book, we wanted to represent, honor and commemorate the voices of those who were impacted by the atrocities of the Holocaust. The Jewish people experienced one of the most horrendous genocides in history. We must never forget. Rohan Gudivaka and Jackson Kriger

To anyone who has ever been persecuted for who they are or for what they believeâ&#x20AC;Ś

Table of Contents Part I: Looking Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Railcar……………….10 Thirteen Ways of Looking at the Holocaust………….12 Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Soviet Soldier………..14 13 Ways of Looking at a Concentration Camp….........17 Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Nazi………………….20 Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Paperclip…………….22 Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Tear………………….24 11Ways to Look at a Piece of Bread………………….26 13 Ways of Looking at a Jew in Hiding………………28 Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Jewish Man…………..30 13 Ways of Looking at a Railcar……………………...32 Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Candle………………..35 13 Ways of Looking at a Chimney……………………38 Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Train………………….41 13 Ways to Look at a Jewish Person…………………..44 13 Ways to Look at War………………………………46

Part II: Love and Light: Seen and Unseen The Day of Love……………………………………….50 Flower………………………………………………….52 Hidden………………………………………………….53 Hidden………………………………………………….55 Dreams…………………………………………………59 The Reflection of Me…………………………………..60 Aimless Love…………………………………………..61

Part III: Samurai Songs Samurai Song……………………………………………64 Samurai Song……………………………………………66 Samurai Song…………………..………………………..68 Samurai Song……………………………………………69 I Heard Their Muffled Cries…………………………….70 Cutting the Final Tether…………………………………72 Samurai Song……………………………………………73 Door on the Past…………………………………………74 On Your Feet…………………………………………….75 Samurai Song of Lina…………………………………....76 Dangling From the Last String of Hope…………………77 Samurai Song……………………………………………79 Black Tears………………………………………………80

Part IV: Questions Without Answers What Were They Like?…………………….……………82 What Were They Like?……………….…………………83 What Were They Like?…………….……………………84 What Were They Like?……………………….…………85 What Were They Like?………………………...………..87 What Were They Like?........................................……….89 What Were They Like?………………………………….91 Artwork: Paperclip Secrets……………………………………………………94 Authors’ Notes Acknowledgments

Looking

Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Railcar

I Among the depot of unprepossessing cars, No different to the others Was the lonely railcar II I was of three hundred cars, Waiting to depart But there is one solitary railcar. III The unsuspecting railcar stalled in the winter snow, An innocent player in a massacre. IV A man and a woman Are one Until the railcar comes Then they know they are doomed V As the men, women and children, Crammed into the shadowy space, The railcar cannot warn them Of the impending dangers. VI Glacial icicles glistened in the small space With no mirror reflecting The horror of the situation VII O thin people of Auschwitz Why do you imagine eagles of liberty? Do you not see you are in a cage? Trapped like mice, waiting for the cats to pounce. 10

VIII I know of noble wild animals But a sulfurous curtain blocks all help You are in sinking mud. The railcar is implicated.

IX When the railcar slid past the shadows of trees A cruel, barren landscape Witness of many ghosts. X As people stumble from their railcar prison Swarming infestation of anonymous numbers Yellow stars breaking up the monotony Of the sky. XI The cats sharpen their claws As the wretched victims slowly file into darkness, Stripped of their individuality A mass of despair. XII Unprecedented massacre XIII Among the depot of unprepossessing cars, No different to the others Was the lonely railcar

Alex Mutter 11

Thirteen Ways of Looking at the Holocaust One The three pages In my textbook That are assigned for homework tonight Two The gruff hand That pushed me into the car Slamming the door and cutting my wings Three Definition: Destruction or slaughter on a mass scale Especially caused by fire or nuclear war Four The smell of smoke Gray hands stealing my soul And leaving me with a hallow body Five The cheap souvenir That I received at the museum in Amsterdam Now hooked onto my backpack Six The scream that echoed through my ears As a gun cracked A thud hit the ground Seven The monotonous voice Of the Walkman Playing in my ears as I walked from room to room

Eight The blood that caked my hands As I cleaned wounds And bandaged hands with dirty clothes Nine The sign that directed others Pegged right in front of my face As I ate a turkey sandwich with Sprite Ten The sound of the railcar Jostling baggage and people Like a top Eleven The numerous shelves Of books All related to one topic Twelve The ration of bread that I received And couldn’t eat Because they were sick Thirteen The textbook Covered in yellow highlighter Done for today’s class

Angélique Alexos 13

Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Soviet Solider

I Among millions of instant eyes Looks far too powerful A Soviet Solider II Three little children sit Like quiet flowers Before their Mother, shot by a Soviet Solider III In the hazy fog of the autumn day, A solider stands strong, looks forward… IV A Soviet solider and his wife Are looking for sun burning though the clouds A Soviet solider, wife, and children Believe in sun burning though the clouds V In the silence on a fragile pond, Two reflections shimmer in the water A man with fists held high And a man crying VI Across the endlessly, dark sky Flies a bird Alone Back and forth, never stopping It flies How can it stop? A man thinks It can’t, it’s chosen its path and has to keep going

VII In the shadows of the dim room A man stands screaming Ripping out his hair Knowing he can never replace the lives he took So he will join them VIII In the rocking chair, The wife waits for her husband To come homeâ&#x20AC;&#x201D; Will she ever know what he has done? IX At the screeching stop, The trains drops off 600 people Ready for their death X He man sits in front of fire His blackened teeth Forming a grin Eager for the next day XI He slams the bottle down Then walks over the millions of pieces Of shattered glass And later millions of Broken bones XII The wind echos in the ears Stopping to whisper in the soldierâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s ear

XIII The snow falls softly On the coming of dusk And the small eyelashes Of the little boy In his fatherâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s big uniform Drilling, tightening his boots

Anna Schilling 16

13 Ways of Looking at a Concentration Camp

I Among millions of detained prisoners The only proud, yet stationary, men Were deceived soldiers II I think of thousands of thoughts Like the walls of the camps Which contained thousands of innocent people. III The people squirmed in the small areas they had It was a brutal way of saying “you don’t belong” IV A Jew and a Schutzstaffel Are rivals A Jew and a Schutzstaffel and Hitler Are enemies V I don’t know what to say to all these people Whether to give pity to the withered Or detestation to the petty VI A mattress and lucky-one who sleeps in misery Anyone could’ve walked past them Yet their eyes are closed, still. The pain and sorrow between every crack in the cheap wood. An unbearable thought. VII O starved men of Auschwitz, Why dream of the quickest way out? 17

Though it is Hell, You still wish to see the light of day? VIII I know the Americans helped as soon as possible If only it was sooner I know Hitler intentionally did what he did If only it could have been prevented I know if these things happened at the right time and place More than just a couple of people would have generations expanding today IX When all concentration camps were ceased It marked a meaningful point in time where everyone everywhere had to reflect. Everyone had to reflect on being grateful, thankful, and blessed For being in a time when a person didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t dictate X At the sight of a chance to live a regular life Out of the walls which have become interior Some gaze upon the past as if would reoccur And they donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t take anything for granted XI The memories cannot be erased They have went from one person to two to four to eight to sixteen to billions The ones that have been scarred have been scarred The least we can do is tape the scars up and make them feel safe XII The older they get, The old history starts to fade a little bit every day

XIII Tis a snowy day in November Unusually so 13 ways of looking at a concentration camp All of the casualties 13 ways unlucky

Asher Anderson 19

Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Nazi I One lurking among thousands of others A monster with no hope A man with a heart of dark, cold, stone II No home A traveler that stalks Someone who hides in the fire Of the hot coals III The Nazi broke down the worn door And they destroyed everything This was all part of their plan IV Right when I believed there was one flicker Of hope in the candle of despair They ripped it away from me V I find our world quiet The silence of the dead No life here Is our punishment VI I donâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t know which hurt me most Either the monster that killed my hope Or the silence of the dead that they stole The lives from

VII The screams of the lost souls Whistled through the hollow wood The shadows of the unwanted VIII I hide in my small hut Hoping that they do not find me The shadows are discouraged IX When the Nazis left A scar was carved into my memories X My survival skills were tested By the ones who hated us most XI A citizen of hell That has taken your identity And the ones you love most XII They took warmth And took lives XIII Shhhh Theyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;re watching And if you make so much as a whisper Theyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ll get you

Charlotte Ihlanfeldt 21

Thirteen Ways of Looking At a Paperclip

One The strong device That keeps papers together Holding them in its metal fingers Two The distraction Endlessly providing ways To escape this maze of boredom Three The pick Unlocking all the doors To the worlds beyond Four The storyteller Passed from paper to paper Hand to hand Collecting the information of the world Five The link In a bendable chain That can be put together or broken By a crafty hand Six The one In a collection of others Spilling over the box That has found its way into the pocket of constriction Seven The bracelet 22

Wrapped around the wrist of a toddler An office supply made into an accessory Eight The nifty tool Thatâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s used by several To fix the miniatures That no hardware store supply can touch Nine A bookmark For those who think 20 dollar ones Will always end up lost Ten The office supply Stacked on the shelf At Office Depot Only 3.99 Eleven The forgotten artifact Pushed under a desk Alone, unworthy Never to hold paper again Twelve The symbol That so many held as Their one act of defiance Thirteen Or it can just be a paperclip Swept up with the dust on the floor Waiting for its ticket Into the world Charlotte Kelliher 23

Thirteen Ways of Looking At a Tear

One The river that flows From my eyes To wash away the blood staining my clothes Two The mirror that disappears In the dirt underneath my feet As I lie over her broken body Three The only water for days That I catch in my mouth As it rolls down my face Four My only company at night As I imagine the next days And all that I have endured runs by me again Five An expression of my cold As the wind pries it out of my eyes While I run through the snow Six A symbol of mourning Dropping off my cheek As I watch their bodies Thrown onto the pile Seven Soaking my face As I beg at the beds of others Hoping for a crumb 24

Eight Forming in my eyes As I grimace at the pain in my lower back As I lie on the cold, hard wood Nine Blurring my vision As I watch them Measure out my meager ration Ten Start to stain my threadbare coat As my hands freeze over And become numb Eleven Comforting me As I remember the days past Before I reach the present day Twelve They pour from my eyes As the gun is pointed towards me Only to be stopped by a cry From a shadow in the distance Thirteen They run down my face As the gates are opened And I begin to fly

Charlotte Kelliher 25

11 Ways to Look at a Piece of Bread I A chunk of hope Lying in the dust To be trampled by unbelievers II. A crust of light Meant to shine through the darkness III. A crumb of warmth To keep away the cold IV. A constant companion So you will never be alone V. A stale puff of nourishment To settle your hungry stomach VI. A source of survival To keep you alive for a few more minutes VII. A reminder of the fear and pain That filled you in the past VIII. A map To show you where to go

IX. A shelter A work of art A basket X. A compass To point you in the direction of freedom XI. Tinder To light the fire, the will Needed to survive

Emma Bedward 27

13 Ways of Looking at a Jew in Hiding

I Among hundreds of people The only thing shining on me Was a gold star II The street is dead after eight No movies No streetcars III No longer do I see the sun In the darkness IV In a small space I clean and clean Quiet, like mice For fear we will be caught V As I’m settling in I’m troubled New people come They won’t help VI Nothing but my own words To read over and over A diary of nothing But thickened time VII My dad tutors me Who knew algebra could be so exciting! 28

My mind is sharp and more focused Maybe it is not so bad up here My mother on the other hand… VIII She doesn’t get it I am not as smart as my sister I never will be She won’t reach out to me Afraid I am a ghost! IX He is a mystery This boy in the attic Who takes away the boredom X My sister and I We are like bread and jam Our only meal XI I’m on my own I don’t need them They are background noise XII I love looking up with the boy The sky is endless XIII Happiness is so close Even in this secret place We have almost won They are coming

Henry Bernhart 29

Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Jewish Man

1. Among a crowd of 1000 men The one that spoke Hebrew Was the Jewish Man 2. Watching the sun set In Haifa A Jewish man sat. 3. A battle that has lasted ages Two sides Many Jewish Men 4. A man is standing on the side of the road Wearing a kippa He is a Jewish man 5. 7 billion people 0.2% of them Jewish people 6. In a temple Reading out of the Torah Stands a Jewish man 7. 6 million dead Jewish people Holocaust 30

8. Me 9. Israel Most of Israel Lots of men Many Temples Many Jewish Men 10. A religion that has been around for many years People that have been kicked out of many places Jewish men are half of these people 11. Standing there On Jewish holidays Jewish men eat and sing songs 12. People think Jewish men allâ&#x20AC;Ś Have big noses Have a lot of money Like power 13. After you have your Bar Mitzvah You become a Jewish man

Jackson Kriger 31

13 Ways of Looking at a Railcar

1. A passenger-carrying railway vehicle consisting of a single coach with its own power unit

2. A box sealed shut forever never unloading its contents

3. A rectangle that leads thousands to death

4. A cube used today to transport cargo

5. A innocent follower of Hitler, no mind left, all actions obeyed

6. The first sneeze, leading to a unstoppable illness

7. A silenced whisper, banned from predicting the near future

8. A fish swims downstream, one by one, order by order, death by death

9. A deep sigh of relief, for the future is unknown

10. A monument of history, telling a silenced story

11. A story teller never silenced

12. A diamond ring used for murder

13. A cheap way to transport Jews in the Holocaust

Lauren McShea 34

Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Candle I The lights went out And all that remained Was the waning light of the candle II I was caught up in three different worlds entwined within one another Like a candle With three wicks III The match was struck and used its brilliant flame to light the candle It was just a small part of the celebration IV A matchbox and wax Are one. A matchbox and wax and a candle Are one. V I do not know which I prefer A memorable moment Or a memorable event The flickering white light of the candle Or the ominous smoke that comes just after VI Soft snow covered the window pane With glittering flakes Illuminated by the shimmering candle Growing shorter by the hour

The mood Traced in orange and yellow An authentic cause VII O men of Reno Why do you dream of an artificial spotlight shining on your face? Would you not rather have The intense, burning flame of a candle Shed light for you in the comfort of your own home? VIII I have known noble accomplishments And shining stars; But I know, and always will know, That the candle is involved In what I know IX When the candle faded near the end of the night It marked the end Of one of many uniform days X At the sight of the candle In the dark blue light Even the masters of melody and rhythm Would cry out evidently XI He rode over Nevada In a diamond coach Once, he feared He saw a candleâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s flame In his shadow, splayed on the pavement

XII The lights are off A candle must be burning XIII It looked as if it was evening all day It was cold and snowing And it was going to continue to snow The candle burned infused with the scent of a cedar tree Like a blackbird intently watching the snow fall

Mia Walvoord 37

13 Ways of Looking at a Chimney

Against the stark white sky Standing proudly above them all Was the length of a chimney They were all of one mind Like the smoke Of one, singular chimney The chimney sparked with fire and light There were many more stood next to it A human and a mere object Are separate But to a chimney They are but the same It is unknown which is most displeasing The inhumanity of the gassing The wails of fleeting life The burn of the chimney Or the ashes of the aftermath Clouds swam and dispersed through the sky With foggy air Chimneys peeked out from behind Once or twice The sight Looked up upon As a unfit funeral for hundreds Prisoner of the camps 38

Why does he seek prosperity and love When those around him Have unseen, deathly soot Flaming at their clothes I know of hard working And I know of unbearable hours of counting But I know too That the chimney Is part of our suffering When the chimney is torn down It marks the end Of our lonesome, pitiful deaths At the sight of smoke Rising up above Even the most oblivious of us Would cry out in mourning He escaped to the other land In a glittering ship to behold His twinkling eyes lost its light Once he saw the towers Of the cities And thought they were chimneys The air is stagnant The chimney must be burning It was the same day for months And for months it destroyed It will destroy for the rest of our time As the chimney 39

Stands in the sky

Nicole Tong 40

Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Train

I Among the grassy fields The only moving thing A wood pulp finished train II Made of three split tracks Like a tree In which three are branches III The train crawled in the spring winds It was a small part of riding into death IV A women and a child Are one. A women and a child and a train Are one. V I do not know which to prefer, The beauty of the black hole Or the beauty of a time lapse, Cutting through the circle of life Or just after. VI Termites crawled along the train car Eating decaying wood. The shadow of the train Crossed the tracks to and fro The depression beating down Traced in the shadow An intimidating cause. 41

VII O thin men of Germany, Why do you imagine colorful steam trains? Do you not see how the steam Chokes your life like a collar? Surrounds the women about you? VIII I know concentration camps And Nazis, separating families; But I know too, That the train is involved In what I know IX When the train rode out of sight, It marked an end Of many tracks X At the sight of trains Trailing in brown sun Even the moans of distress Would cry out darkly. XI It rode over Siberia On cold biting rails. Once, a man left the train The figure jumping out Was a corpse. XII The river is moving. The train must be soaring.

XIII It was evening all day. 42

The world was black And it was going to make a blot on the light. The train perched On the broken track Halfway through execution

Obinna Okoli 43

13 Ways to Look at a Jewish Person

I A star shines Boldly on A silk dress II Germans yelling at Jews To pack up their filthy supplies To move on to their next school III The rations Limited down to A moldy loaf of bread For each family IV Germans yelling And beating The poor innocent souls V A crowded cattle car Filled to the brim With those who suffer VI A concentration camp Hard labor and bad food And wooden slats for sleep VII A threatening disease Plagues a camp Many innocent souls lost 44

VIII Terrible conditions A thin slice of bread Is all they can savor IX Separation from Those who you know You cannot live without X The souls Sent to the showers To only realize their fate moments after XI Liberation from the camp Nowhere to escape to And no money to aid them XII Mourners who Have lost those Who have passed on XIII Normal people Who have suffered A terrible tragedy

Rohan Gudivaka 45

13 Ways to Look at War

1. On the dead battlefield War sat in the middle 2. A battle lasted six years Two sides Fought against each other 3. A Jew and a Nazi fight As War does nothing to stop them 4. War doesnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t care About the Jew Or the Nazi 5. It doesnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t pick a side For if it picked a side That side would win And who wants a War where people win 46

6. People are dead and dying For what you might ask? Nothing 7. Even while people arenâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t fighting War waits Until one strikes the other Just for Warâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s entertainment 8. When War left There was nothing but rubble And people crying 9. At the first sight of War No one knew what to expect Until they see what it can do. 10. Always on the move War looks for someone to attack 11. 47

It will always end up the same Dead people Hatred And sorrow 12. War will always be there Waiting to strike 13. It is always watching, Watching for someone weak To take over

Love and Light: Seen and Unseen

The Day of Love

This morning as the alarm clock buzzed awake I woke up in a hazy fog And found myself gazing at the sun Perfectly peaking over the hills And then at my robe Pink and puffy as usual In the shadows of dawn I dressed Pulling a jumper over my head And I laid eyes on a birthday card From three years ago And then at a craft I never did In the end of the shadows of dawn I ate Scooping cold bits of grain into my mouth I started staring at a napkin Faking a silk faรงade And then at a toothpick Cut in half In the afternoon as the bell rang I walked down a crowded street I found myself gazing at a lock Hanging like a pendulum on a string And then at a bit of cracker Crushed under the marching bulls In the fiery afternoon as laptops clicked I stared at a colored screen I laid eyes on a marker A blue EXPO And then on a crayon Flamingo pink

In the end of the afternoon as zippers buzzed I gathered textbook after textbook I started staring at a magnet Falling slowly off a locker Then at a piece of paper Crumpled on the floor In the evening as tires squealed I walked into a dark hallway I found myself gazing at a crumb Sitting innocently on the floor And then at a bill For yesterdayâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s cleaning In the crown of evening As my fingers scrambled on keys I laid eyes on a picture At a dance And then on a tack Laying upside down On a stack of notecards As the evening came to a close I wrapped myself in warmth I started staring at a book I had never read And then at the sun Waving goodbye Over the glistening hills In the morning as the alarm clock buzzed awake I woke up in a hazy fog

AngĂŠlique Alexos 51

Flower Born into the world as a flower Staying silent Thoughts have too much depth Forced to stick around, or else I would be stomped on But it is hard to close a flower into a bud So I stayed open Secretly feeling things I didn't know were there When my family was killed I realized my faith I left because I knew I could not stay Courage confines me even as I scale the fence The fence that kept electrocuting my dreams As sun shines down to my petals On the side where I can grow I could not go back I needed to pass on the dreams The sun shines down as I go to meet my family To share the key

Anne Seaman 52

Hidden After All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doer Dedicated to AngĂŠlique Alexos In the shadows I sit I wait For the day to come When I am let out of This jail of darkened night They tell me to give up The fear of this endless night It claws at me Trying to draw the hope out But I will not become Their next victim Hanging in their inky cages For I know That somewhere There is a light Beyond this starless night Hiding in the shadows In the darkest hole You will find a star And within that star There is a day Breaking the endless night It is the light we cannot see One by one the people fall victim To the king of shadows But I will not For I know there is this light The light we cannot see 53

Others have tried They have looked But they have never seen For the light hides from those That will not embrace it Yet will take advantage Of this hidden star All this light we cannot see Is there I know it is So I will travel to the far corners Of the night And find this shining day For I can believe Believe in all the light we cannot see

Charlotte Kelliher 54

Hidden After All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doer Dedicated to Charlotte Kelliher There is light Somewhere Somehow In a room Behind a bed Under a floorboard In a miniature box The light is kept The light stays Locked Sealed I know it is there And when I reach it I will hold The world The world I do not have With the light I do not see My world is dark Cold Miserable Dead Like the smoke Rising from an empty bonfire We do not have light We walk Our hands always outstretched Searching for the box But our hands barely miss The weak floorboard We have decided it doesnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t exist 55

The light Because we can’t find it But I know it is there I know it Deep down Under all layers in the earth Color is kept It is the feather of a phoenix It must be plucked Ever so slightly So as not to disturb it If I receive this feather I will be so thankful For my world will be colorful And everything will have purpose My world doesn’t have color We don’t see it anywhere It is only black and white Colorless Like the tip of a pencil I know that color lies somewhere But no one else believes me They think I lie And shove all the stupidity Into my head But I know they want the color too I know they want to see the sun rise And sparkle in their eyes We all try to paint the world But fall short of the palette So we insist that color is a mythology Floating invisibly Through the minds of the young 56

But I know that the color lives And draws for some everyday I would like to be a spectator of art But my eyes are blind To beautiful thoughts But I will not let that stop me I know color exists I know it Just as the water flows Down the river Through the waterfall Up a shining sky There is emotion And it flows and cries in the wind Emotion is kept In the oval of a tear Slowly falling down a cheek And splashing on the floor My world doesn’t have emotion It is a shout into the void A never ending scream Ceased by my people Captured by their frail thoughts Muffled by their ignorance They tell themselves over and over That is doesn’t live And they crack themselves Further and Further Trying to see a raindrop Fall from their cheeks So they believe that it isn’t there That the tear will never fall Because rivers are always dry But I know streams run a faucet 57

I know it So wherever you are Reader Child Girl Boy Dreamer Believer Know that I am there Listen Watching Waiting For Color Light Emotion All lost because of a realist But I most look for light The light I can’t see Nor can they It is locked away The light

Angélique Alexos 58

Dreams

I was blinded With one handâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s sweep And a curtain of darkness Fell over my world My eyelids still stained With remembered color I lay in the embrace Of the starless night Unable to escape This endless sea I begged for a sliver Of the feast of light That lies beyond These blood-veined walls I fell silent And let the orchestra Fill the hollow theater With the music Of fear and death I prayed for a blanket To cover my corpse To erect a fortress To protect me But I could not escape Without traces Of this nightmare For this nightmare Lives on even in my dreams Charlotte Kelliher 59

The Reflection of Me

I wake To the warm hands of the sun The sun That used to haunt my every move I eat Savoring each tiny bite that enters my mouth Remembering When only one bite was cherished I listen To the sweet melody of the birds The scream of death Used to be my lullaby I smell The aroma of the wind Unclogging The smell of blood from my nostrils I see My eyes in the bathroom mirror Thinking Of when those eyes used to frighten me

AngĂŠlique Alexos 60

Aimless Love Lying in the fluffy, freezing snow An elegant snow angel Now nothing This morning, I took a bike ride On that bike ride I fell in love with the bunnies hopping by Then later on that ride with the electrical posts The one that I ran into In the evening I took a lunch break from Xbox And I fell in love with a delectable Jimmy Johnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s sandwich Then after I ate that sandwich I fell in love with an acorn The acorn that the chipmunk left behind When my dog frightened him away That very night I was texting some friends And I fell in love with the starry night sky A sky that only people notice when pondering Something clever to say Before I lay passed out on my bed of nightmares Thinking of what will happen tomorrow Or the next day Or the next I lay in sweet silence Addled in the dark Time glides past my eyes Quick yet sweet. Before I remember anything I am still silent in the fluffy, freezing snow Once an elegant snow angel Now nothing but the bitter breath Asher Anderson

Samurai Songs

Samurai Song

When I had no home I made my few possessions my home When I had no possessions I made my strength my possession And when I had no strength I let my faith become my strength And when I had no faith I made the dark of the night my faith When sunrise came I made my work my night Once I had culture in my life When I lost my culture I made survival my culture When I lost hope that I would survive I made my bed my escape Where dreams could ebb and flow In my head like an ocean Of lies illuminated By the moon For I knew my family would not Come home and I would never Have more than one piece of bread Each day for the rest of my life Once I had a soul Now, if you look into my eyes You will see hollow shadows Where there once was light When I lost that shining light I made my courage my light When I ran out of courage I made my father my courage I lived for his sake And he lived for mine 64

When my father died I stopped believing I stopped caring I drifted in and out of sleepless nights And wandered through hell in my dreams The earth was barren, like my heart Not a single blade of grass to grasp at I was reaching in the dark for a candle That constantly moved just beyond my touch Every single day Grasping for wisps of light In a world without fire Eventually I stopped and waited for death to come But it never did come So my friend I am stuck in between The living and the dead

Mia Walvoord 65

Samurai Song When I had no awareness I made bystanders my awareness. When I had No luck my heart sought

When I had no heart I hated When I had no gratitude I complained When I had no more complaints I waited

When I had no mother I made Nature my mother. When I had No father I embraced my brother

When I had no friend I made Existence my friend. When I had no specific Enemy I thought of the Soviets.

When I had no joy I made Warmth my joy. I have no Physical heat, love is my warmth

When I have no hope Liberation strays from me. When I have Nothing, death will be my release

Survival is my tactic, selfishness Is my strategy. When I had No home I dreamed of migration somewhere beyond Beyond elsewhere

Obinna Okoli 67

Samurai Song

When I lost my rights I hid. When I lost invisibility I made the annex my home When I had no bed I lay awake to protect my family When I had no food I made optimism my food When I lost my father All his riches were mine When I lost my mother I wept When I lost my cigarettes I made conversation When I lost My daughter I gained anger When I had no space I made modesty my space. When I lost my health I made family my health When I lost my voice I made Studying my voice. When I had no books I wrote my books When I lost my family I made A diary my family. When I published the diary I made the world my diary

Henry Bernhart 68

Samurai Song

When I had no food I made Knowledge my food. When I had no Bravery I used hiding. When I had no school I celebrated. When I had no celebration I cried. When I had no tears I waited. When I had no house I made Nature my house. When I had no feelings I embraced the world. When I had no music I made Work my music. When I had no sound I started acting. When I had no energy I made Songs be my strength. When I had no sleep I used instruments as my dreams. When I had no agenda I put Work in my day. When I had no work I played with friends. Life is my mission, struggle Is my enemy. When there is No love, I have lost the final battle.

Jackson Kriger 69

I Heard Their Muffled Cries

When I had no bike I turned my feet into wheels When I had no treasures I possessed my memories When I could not see the suffering of others I heard their muffled cries When I could not hear I imagined their limp bodies When the images were disappearing I grasped the thin air When I had no freedom I made the ladder my freedom When I could go up no more I clung to myself When I had no escape from the heart wrenching pain I watched free people aimlessly wander When I had no vision of the world I explored my dreams When I had no friends I made the windows my friends When the blinds were pulled down I made books my window When it seemed like it was ending I scrambled for trust When they built a wall between us I tore down thoughts in my journal

Kindness is my nature Humor is my disguise When I had nothing I savored curiosity

Eva Hanson 71

Cutting the Final Tether

When I had no home I made the memories my home When the memories began to fade I let my children be my life When my children let go of my hand I nursed instincts When my instincts failed I gnawed on hard bread When the rations became crumbs I gave my children everything I had When they became weak I delivered them my soul When the winter burst their lungs I wrapped my life around the ones I loved When I could help them no longer I looked to the enemy for assistance When my cries were silenced I nagged my soul for another bit of grain When even my soul was empty It struck me When I healed I tried even harder to savor my life When the cold whipped my bones I fell once more When I couldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t heal I gave my wounded knowledge away I knew they would lead A life without me AngĂŠlique Alexos 72

Samurai Song When my home was taken I made family my home When my family was ripped apart I found solace in silence When silence kicked me out I hid in the shadows When the shadows shunned me I found comfort in work When work tired my bones I made sleep my friend When sleep refused to come I found consolation in the cold When the cold bit at my skin I turned to fear When fear turned me into a monster I forgot about my family When my family abandoned me I lived for each meager meal When food failed to satisfy me I turned to writing When I could not write what I wanted I turned to frustration When frustration failed Love never displeased me Emma Bedward 73

Door on the Past

When my freedom was taken, I made Hope my freedom. When my hope had Vanished, I made a small stone My hope. When my pebble was lost, I made Love my missing rock. When my love was buried In my motherâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s grave, I made Survival my flesh and blood. When winter came, I made warmth my coat When I had no warmth, I prayed for flowers When spring came, I made helping My brother, my target. Survival is my tactic, heartbreak Is my strategy. Once I had my freedom I closed the hammered red door On the past.

Anna Schilling 74

On Your Feet

When I was dehumanized, I began to gnaw on hope. When I devoured the hope, I absconded into my friend’s embrace. When my friend was slaughtered, I concealed myself in the smoke. When the sulfurous smoke faded, The Nazi’s found me. When the Nazi’s left, I engendered more hope.

Alex Mutter 75

Samurai Song of Lina

When my freedom was denied I embraced the shackles of my fate When my house crumbled I made the road my shelter When my father was captured I was comforted by my memories When I had no company I made my pencil my friend When kindness was erased I turned to my friends When my friends were taken I turned to my enemies When my hope disappeared I looked to the future When the future came I regretted the past

Charlotte Kelliher 76

Dangling From the Last String of Hope

When I had no home I made the stars my shield When I had no bed I made the trees my loft When I had no landscape I painted my scenery When I had no canvas I drew with my eyes When I had no eyes I fed my thoughts to those around me When I had no thoughts I ate in silence When I had no food I let my growling stomach be my tempo When I couldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t keep time I let the days roll out of my reach When the days smudged to nothing I waited When the floor broke under me I floated When the oceans of despair swamped me I swam to the shore When the shore wasnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t there I found comfort in the clouds

When the clouds didnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t listen I rambled to the stars When the stars paid me no heed I fell to survival And survival kept me company For the rest of my inhuman life

AngĂŠlique Alexos 78

Samurai Song

When I had no journey I wandered endlessly Always wondering When and where I would When I finally stopped I sat Then I got up and walked again When I ran into problems I took another path And fled my fears and nightmares When I could not run I cried Drowning my worries In despair When I could not cry I swam Through this river of tears And let their reasons Wash away When the land dried up I lay in the hollowed out bed Where the river once was And tried to imagine the coolness of it Washing over me once more

Charlotte Kelliher 79

Black Tears When night raged forever I became nocturnal When my eyes closed I skewered them with dark When the river ran dry I lay in the aftertaste When the scent was gone I wrote When the pages flew like a raven I blotted on oak When there was no more space I shriveled and slept When the black cloak rose I held onto moonlight memories When they faded away I drifted into space When space enclosed me I found room When the room populated I hid in the shadows When the shadows kicked me out I ran to another When charred toast comforted me I sat in silence When the night raged once more I resorted to my work When the candle burned out I wrote AngĂŠlique Alexos 80

Questions Without Answers

What Were They Like?

1. Did the people of the Holocaust use candles? 2. Did they hold ceremonies celebrating their beliefs? 3. Were they inclined to whispering softly? Because that is what I have just barely heard. 4. Did they use silver and gold, emerald and ruby, as day-today luxuries? 5. Had they a wealthy book? 6. Did they distinguish between sleeping and dying? 1. Sir, their souls snuffed to burned out candles. It doesn’t matter what their means of illuminating the world around them was. Maybe they didn’t want to see the world anymore. 2. They once gathered to delight in the divine light God provided them with but after they were thrown into caverns of darkness, there was no light to be seen. 3. Sir, for them, whispers meant death. 4. Before their horrible predicament, perhaps. Luxuries are not necessary. All their luxuries turned to casualties. 5. It was not possible. Remember, their lives became adorned in fiery corpses scattered across the crematorium, left for them to clean. Before they arrived all of their wealth was stolen. Even if it was just merely a book. Knowledge is always as powerful as money. Those who smuggled bits of their old life didn’t even have time to scream as it was smashed. 6. Lying in the snow, without someone near to wake you, meant death. Yet, there is still an echo of the dreams that belonged to those who slept long ago. They have yet to wake up.

Mia Walvoord 82

What Were They Like? 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6.

What were the years of the Holocaust? Who were the winners of the Holocaust? Where was the Holocaust? How did the Holocaust begin? What transported the Jews to the death camps? How did the Holocaust end?

1. 2. 3. 4.

Two, or five, or seventeen, or eighty, all were taken The angel of death defeated everyone In the hearts of all the victims The Naziâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s hearts were frozen, with their hands full of bullets 5. The fury of frozen hearts 6. The birds started flying and the silence broke we knew it was over

Caitlin Kolb 83

What Were They Like?

1) During the Holocaust did they make fire from the barbed wire? 2) Did they fear death? 3) Did the sun burn their happy faces? 4) Did the birds fly like the gunshots? 5) Did tears dot the faces of innocent people? 6) Did their feet step on broken glass? 1) Sir, their minds turned to light. Only they know that the barbed wire Was their light path to the dark days of death 2) This life was their only life Their eyes became hallowed with the glowing, Reflective image of their own ghosts, hovering over their lives 3) Sir, the sun burned only because it had always done so. 4) Years ago, birds were peaceful, happy creatures. Why would they stay? 5) Those only remember. They had one hope. Survival was their only goal. They couldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t let anything stand in the way. There was no time to give up. They was no time to scream. 6) There was once a silence. But then, a day broke everything All the windows never to be repaired Just like their glass minds and clear hearts Now day screams pierce the night Scattering earth

Anna Schilling 84

What Were They Like

1) Did the people of the Holocaust kill scapegoats for a living? 2) Did they hold funerals for the ones who perished in camps? 3) Were they intelligent people? 4) Did they use brain and soul, matter and religion for consideration? 5) Had they a second thought? 6) Did they decide between peace and war?

1) Sir, the people killed scapegoats for a simple reason: to get rid of them. 2) Perhaps families lounged in the grass with deep, heavy tears, but graves were made of empty air. 3) Sir, intelligent people would think twice before striking on their own community. 4) Some luck far on from now. Simplicities state that matter is for everyone as religion is not. 5) It is not told. As some were forced and some were not Steer the mind into the blue sky Wait for the planes to crash And the bombs and mines to detonate And the guns to run out of red bullets And the people to thump to the ground after being shot To quiver and moan as the brain bleeds silently What becomes a dead body stays a dead body What stays a dead body stays part of the Earth What is part of the Earth we are living on We are living on the land of dead people 85

6) No sir The lands will perish The seas will rise Countries will part Only coming together to quarrel some more

Obinna Okoli 86

What Were They Like?

1. Did they have windows to look through, something to unravel their time 1. Did they have sunsets to whisper them to sleep and sunrise to beckon their call 2. Did they have food to comfort them when family was gone engraved in the stone 3. Did they have heat of hope and light to warm them 4. Did they have starlight ceremonies of love and community guided with the voices of another 5. Were they innocent 1. Sir, their windows shattered. The only window decayed any memories of hope. The time to unravel was dark death hidden in the pits of the shadows 2. Once they fell asleep in the walls of comfort the shadows diverted their waking dreams into nothing, the subtle whisper of defeat became a shout across the land of dropped heads and once serendipitous hearts 3. They had the feeling of ignorance, starvation and a lost companion in their gut, the only thing engraved was wiped off the map with only dreams to guide them 4. They once had the light of the sun; now it is the smoke of the chimney with the screams of divulging dreams blended as one into the past. Light has now been shoved down below by the evil that makes up this world. It is internal darkness 5. They once celebrated love and small faithful twinkles of light; their stars are now the dull twinkle of charred memories; the only guide is the lurking god of greed pulling them down into a pit of melancholy death. To some, it helped nothing. 87

6. The star labeled them; some refused to be molded into something that could be tossed away like a burning cigarette under the boot of the child that once frolicked, but now with a bullet in the head of another, silence reigns, the boot is the guilty one.

Anne Seamen 88

What Were They Like?

1. Did the people of the holocaust let their souls guide their lives like a lantern? 2. Did they hold memories and past beauties as an emblem of a promising future? 3. Were they inspired to write fantasies and let their pencils waltz on silk? 4. Did they craft images in their minds and perform dreams to the stars? 5. Had they tunes to hum as they toiled in the fields? 6. What did they say as the last flickers of light were washed out by the moon’s milky rays? 1. Sir, as they breathed the smoky breath of Charon and began their slow ferry ride to the underworld, their souls became nothing but cold rocks that would not skip lightly across the water but drown on the river’s edge. Many cannot say if living corpses will perish. Only Survival himself knows if a companion must breathe hope to comfort in the darkest hours. 2. People keep memories to tell at temple and to begin a prayer before a plentiful supper but when another blue canvas hangs on Mother Nature’s wall and no relief has been bought, the future looks like the end of a dark tunnel that none can see. 3. Sir, finding silk in a world of burlap is like finding words when the world is mute. If people decided that dancing on a floor of their kin’s blood when the setting sun is a dark charcoal then they wouldn’t live to tell the tale for they would be killed by those who believe in the faith of swastika and tattoo murder on their hearts. 4. After weeks of pain and hard lashings, I doubt they had a play to execute that would please the stars. Images can be 89

burned to ash if they are displeasing. Each of the stars are critics. 5. The only songs they sang were those that were forced into their mouths like foul medicine. Perhaps those with the strongest wills lulled themselves to sleep with the tunes of the past, but even those with the will to speak tasted hopelessness in their throats. 6. Sir, when they were able to speak and tell their tale, it came out in small whispers blown away by the wind. And as the sunâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s burned fingertips groped for repentance, the moon echoed and sang the song of another day yet to come.

AngĂŠlique Alexos 90

What Were They Like?

1. 2. 3. 4. 5.

Did the Nazis carry heavy hearts of stone? Did they enjoy the sound of screams? Were they ruthless to their families? Did they tell jokes and laugh with one another? When they felt hunger did they think of the people they were starving? 6. Did they think of the children?

1. They had hearts of stone, daughter, but they did not Carry them heavily Few had the decency To regret 2. Perhaps they once delighted in them They may have reveled In what they could do But the screams became Bitter to their ears 3. Who can say? Peaceful lives mingled with wonders Of terror By night, fathers told their sons stories, And by day they became Mass murderers 4. There is a distant echo of laughter But it is not remembered If you are the one To hear it Remember 5. Maybe once upon a time but Most only thought Of the meals they would be able to have, dreams Only of food, never of Starvation or fear 91

6. After the children were burned And they saw The charred bones they felt No joy Many merely chose To forget

Emma Bedward

Secrets

Has the ground of the world Carried the human race Long before we carved into it today Is the surface we have lived on Crumbling before our very eyes Did the floors we have stood on Hold aliens before us Was the grass we have laid on Created before we began Did the world ever laugh and sing The way we do now Or has it sat in silence for all these centuries Do the locks to all these secrets Have keys hidden in crevices Only the leaves on the trees And the waves in the river Will whisper the answer to us Yet they cannot speak of their deaths And we cannot see them laying down to rest Because we have been blinded By the ignorance within us And if aliens ever walked our land The have left nothing behind But in our minds they will always Live in our fear

And if the grass Holds all the knowledge of our history Why can they not hold the memories Of a land before our time If the world ever spoke Its knowledge We wouldnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t have paid attention And its voice would freeze over And if the keys ever existed Why should we have the right to open the lock

Charlotte Kelliher 95

Authorâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Notes

Angélique Alexos This book was something that made a big impact on me and made me treat my life with a new respect. Just like our previous book, The Stolen Seeds, this project started out as a typical unit but turned into so much more. After discussing this heavy topic and visiting the Holocaust Museum in Skokie, as well as listening to a survivor, I feel so much more understanding for the word “holocaust.” In my poems, I tried to capture the suffering of not only a prisoner in camp but a survivor, a Nazi, and people that live in holocausts today. I hope these poems will give the readers a chance to understand a little bit of how traumatic any type of discrimination can be. Emilio Alvarez I had such a great time making this book. I put two poems in, “Christopher” and “Samurai Song.” They were about a cryptographer and a man in a concentration camp. My favorite part of the whole process was probably writing the poem; I was able to write from a Jew’s perspective. Asher Anderson Hi readers! I'm currently enrolled in the fabulous 7th grade. Without these guys, I wouldn’t have such professional looking writing. I give a lot of the credit to my classmates because they really deserve it. Thanks a million dudes! I am a basketball player, and I’m in the circus. I anticipate that you will enjoy my poems. Emma Bedward In English this year we studied the Holocaust. Our class was extremely moved by the stories we heard from survivors. We went on a field trip to the Skokie Holocaust museum, and when we got to step inside of a real railcar that was used to transport Jews, we got the idea for our book. Voices from the Railcar was the title that was inspired from the museum. Our whole class created poems from ideas we had while studying the Holocaust. This book is the product of our work together. 97

Henry Bernhart In my free time I like to play sports and hang out with friends. This year my grade wrote poems on the Holocaust. I think this project helped me understand what really happened in the Holocaust. I hope you enjoy my poems! Rohan Gudivaka I was inspired to write in response to the Holocaust after reading, The Diary of Anne Frank. I decided to write poems that give an insight into what the lives of people living in the time of Holocaust were like. The loneliness, grief, and misery of the concentration camps are conveyed in the poems that I was inspired to write. Eva Hanson I learned so much throughout the process of creating this book. It made me very thankful for the things that I have. I enjoyed this unit very much. Charlotte Ihlanfeldt Recently, we studied the Holocaust in English class and were inspired to create this book. After reading a novel of our choice we were given a series of poems to write and then chose our favorites or most powerful poems. After selecting poems from each student we started to put together The Voices of the Railcar. I am 13 years old and I hope that you enjoy our voices from the railcar. Charlotte Kelliher This book was our annual project in English class, where we wrote a book connecting to a major event. At the beginning of the year, we studied the Holocaust and what horrible things the people in concentration camps went through. After learning about the Holocaust, I realized how much in our lives today, and in literature, there are connections to the Holocaust, and the overall topic of human suffering. After I learned from this, our class was able to express ourselves on paper using poems and art. I have several poems in this book, each focusing on a different part of the Holocaust, but each one was a way that I connected myself to this horrible event. 98

Caitlin Kolb I am in seventh grade at Lake Forest Country Day school. In my free time I like to do gymnastics. Our class wrote many poems on the Holocaust. My poem has six questions and six answers that are not the answers you would expect. I think this project really helped me grow as a writer. Jackson Kriger This was an experience that has helped teach me more about the Holocaust and the lives of the people who experienced it firsthand. This book has taught me the hardships of the Jews and other religions facing death. This subject has interested me all my life, and I cannot wait to see the turnout. It has been a fun, intriguing experience, and I hope you enjoy The Voices of the Railcar. Lauren McShea I am in seventh grade at Lake Forest Country Day School. In my free time I enjoy playing hockey and talking with friends. I enjoyed learning about the Holocaust, and wrote a poem in response to a railcar. Alex Mutter I am a 7th grade student who participated in this project. We started this project after we had learned about the Holocausts of our history and some that are still happening today. Every student wanted to reflect on what we had learned in a poetic format. I enjoyed writing my poems. Obinna Okoli I am a 7th grade student enrolled at Lake Forest Country Day School. During my years in 6th and 7th grade, our class has been granted the opportunity to make books. This is our second book so far in English class, and I think this is a good way to express our classâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s thoughts and feelings. I enjoy running, playing squash, and tinkering with technology.

Anna Schilling We spent a lot of time trying to understand all the hardships, pain, and beauty that happened during the Holocaust. I wrote my poem based off a book I read, Between Shades of Gray and a Robert Pinsky poem. I really hope that all the readers feel the pain and sorrow that everyone who went through the Holocaust had to fight through, but also seeing the little things in life that make it beautiful, like a pebble. I hope you enjoy all the poems! Anne Seaman I really enjoyed this project, and it was very inspirational. By making this book, I believe we have helped the world in a little way understand how horrible the Holocaust was. This project is important to me, because it gives a voice to so many Jews that didn’t have one. Scott Skinner I am a seventh grader from Lake Forest Country Day School. I enjoy many sports including soccer, baseball, and basketball. My poems were inspired by our deep conversations in class about the Holocaust. I hope you enjoy my poems. Nicole Tong I am Nicole Tong, one of the people on the art team. I wouldn’t say that drawing is what makes you an artist; it is the feeling and soul in the piece that matter the most. I hope that in the drawings we produced and the gallery at the end of this amazing project makes it all worth your while. I thank my wonderful teammates who tolerated me through everything, and I thank you for taking the time to read Voices of the Railcar. Mia Walvoord I am a 7th grade student. I acted as an author as well as an editor. Learning about the Holocaust was such a powerful experience and I’m so glad that our class got the opportunity to share our thoughts.

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Acknowledgments

The authors of this book would like to gratefully acknowledge the writers who inspired our poems. The poems in Part I: Looking are based on Wallace Stevens’ famous imagist poem “Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird.” The poems in Part II: Love and Light: Seen and Unseen were based on several sources, including Billy Collins’ “Aimless Love” and the novel All the Light We Cannot See. The poems in Part III: Samurai Songs were based on Robert Pinsky’s original poem of depravation titled “Samurai Song” and the poems in Part IV: Questions Without Answers were based on Denise Levertov’s poem about the Vietnam War, “What Were They Like.” As the teacher of these students, I would like to express my gratitude for their hard work, their creativity, and their generous spirits. I want to especially acknowledge Nicole Tong for creating the beautiful and haunting cover art and Mia Walvoord for editing and organizing all of the work in this book. All of these students inspired me on a daily basis for the last two years. They give me hope for a future in which genocide will be something we study only as a horror of the past. I have no doubt that these young people will someday change the world with the power of their voices.

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