Following the discussions about how history should be taught in schools, which books should be banned and if kids can handle learning about the complexity of the truth of their country, I’d like to help to regain calm and confidence by sharing with the concerned parents and officials that yes, kids can absolutely handle it.
And yes, they can thrive with that information. In my experience, it will make them less afraid to take a stand and become more compassionate and involved citizens who have real arguments, not just wild emotions when they are being asked in their own future how they feel about their country’s history and what their knowledge has meant for them.
I know this because I am one of those kids that were raised that way.
I was born in Germany just 20 years after the end of WWII, and the war and the unspeakable atrocities and crimes that German Nazis committed and the majority of the country stood by in fear and silence, incapable of preventing what was happening, was never a taboo.
What we learned in school was never sensationalistic. It wasn’t meant to invoke over-the-top emotions that nobody could handle. We learned history. And we learned that we kids, as we weren’t born when this happened, do not have to feel personally guilty for it. But we did have an important, lifelong responsibility to carry.
We learned that in part because of relentless propaganda, the true extent of the horror was not known to many. We learned that this can never be an excuse for saying, “We had nothing to do with this!”
We learned that by being German natives, our history will be frequently brought up when traveling, and it was our responsibility to own and understand why this is and how to respond with dignity, respect and truthfulness.
Our field trips were to concentration camps so we didn’t just read things in books, but we started to feel.
Feel the compassion.
Feel the overwhelming sadness.
Feel the disbelief and the horror, while our teachers and parents were there, carefully watching that what we learned and experienced was on a child level, not an adult level, that we could process what we saw and learned, that we had people to talk to, people in the museums, teachers who were trained to speak about this in a way that it wasn’t sensationalistic but truly honored the unspeakable sadness and horror in an age-appropriate context.
We were relieved to learn that many of the surviving victims don’t personally blame the children or the folks who were not involved or able to prevent what happened.
But they wanted us to know. They wanted us to be strong in our ability to take a stand. To know the difference between right and wrong. To know that our job was to know and remember, to ask for forgiveness whenever we meet a person with numbers tattooed on their arm. To know who we have in front of us and what that person and their family most likely went through.
We learned to stand in silent respect for the victims, without the need to run away, defend or distract ourselves. We learned that our presence, our willingness to be compassionate and take responsibility not as a person but as a citizen and member of a country could bring healing to those who were victimized by the regime.
We learned to take a stand and find our own way to express that this should have never happened, that it was wrong and will always be wrong, and that time does not heal all wounds.
Sometimes, teaching history is just not about being comfortable. It’s not about “moving on.”
When we move on, we take our history with us. We shape and represent what that history has created and use it in the future. Not just “to learn from it” but to remember. To always remember. To have the courage, the compassion, the strength and ability to bear witness, acknowledge, confirm, be silent, listen, ask respectful and important questions and grow.
Children don’t break when they are carefully supervised by knowledgeable teachers. They don’t break when they read difficult literature.
I find some of today’s video games and online postings much more traumatizing and distorted than a truthful and curious exploration of the past and how it is shaping our present and future.
As kids, having this background, this opportunity to learn and understand gave us tools. Tools to answer questions that always came up when we were traveling to countries that Germany had been in war with just a couple of decades before.
We learned how to respond when kids our own age called us names or raised their arms in front of us, reminding us that they, too, learned about and remembered our history.
As parents, we might need help to get our part right, so that we know how to support our kids in becoming compassionate, emotionally mature and historically insightful people, without traumatizing them.
Our teachers need support in giving this guidance, allowing them to grow with their history, not against it, under the supervision of skilled pedagogical experts.
Please don’t be afraid to teach uncomfortable history, but instead allow the kids to understand everything: what happened, what the historical and social context was, the issues that made this happen or didn’t prevent it from happening.
And when you disagree, bring facts, not opinions. Go online! Choose three resources and research the topic carefully before discussing it with your child.
Kids deserve this.
I can tell you firsthand that when taught in an age-appropriate way, the truth doesn’t break you, it makes you compassionate, stronger in your critical thinking and gives tools to relate and contribute to a better society.
(Ingrid Dinter of West Hopkinton is the daughter of a German POW.)