Chained to Our Past/ Shella Yazdi/ Essay

Chained to Our Past

Shella Yazdi

As a child I didn’t have worries. Shielded from all bad things in the world, I played and laughed without giving anything a second thought. At the age of five, I was approached by a young man at my synagogue. He complimented my costume, which I wore to commemorate a Jewish holiday. He then rolled up his sleeve to show me the numbers tattooed into his arm. With tears in his eyes, he told me how happy he was to see a child who was able to celebrate a Jewish holiday. Unsure of what he meant, I continued playing and laughing along with my friends.

The first time I was taught about the Holocaust was in the fourth grade. I still remember the shock and terror I felt while hearing how a survivor watched as his family was sent to their death. My immediate thought was, That could have been me, if only I was born in a different decade. For weeks after the assembly I couldn’t act like my normal self. While I knew it was important for me to learn about my past, I couldn’t help but wish I still had a shield to protect myself from all the wrong in the world. My parents sent me to a therapist due to my change in behavior and she gave me advice I live by to this day: some sad stories have happy endings and focusing on the sadness won't get you anywhere. I realized the way I need to deal with my pain is by being a listening ear to survivors.

I am now proud to be participating in Witness Theater, a program where students interview Holocaust survivors and then create and perform their stories. During our second meeting, we received a paper with short biographies of

each survivor who would be participating. Our program director called on me to read aloud the story of Joseph Hecht. Joe was the only survivor of his five siblings. After the war, he came to Brooklyn, New York, with his wife and is now a great-grandparent.

It was only a day later when I realized Joe Hecht was the man with the numbers on his arm. He had been going to my synagogue for years and I’ve known him my whole life. After years of not knowing the story of the mysterious man who was so happy that I simply exist, I now have the chance to learn about his story. Joe greeted me with a beaming smile and told me I had grown to be a beautiful and intelligent woman since he last saw me. Joe didn’t have a chance to grow up behind a shield because of the horrors he was forced to endure, but he still makes it his goal to put a smile on everyone's face. His pure and genuine grin makes me proud to be a Jew. I have made a connection that I will cherish for the rest of my life, and while Joe won’t be with us forever, I’ll make it my life goal to share his story and keep his memory alive.