I recently applied for a grant to
promote Holocaust education at local middle schools through field trips, a unit
of Holocaust studies, and survivor testimonies. My grant application was rejected,
which wasn’t completely
surprising given the volume and quality of competing applications. But I was taken aback by the verbal feedback
I received from the grant’s benefactor who
told me something along the lines of this: “The
Holocaust was a terrible thing, and it should be remembered, but its
significance is not as meaningful today. Your project is not something we can
turn into an annual occurrence.”
How could someone minimize the
relevance of the Holocaust and trivialize its intergenerational impact? I was stunned. I began researching the
Holocaust education implemented by my school and other schools. In a private school with a significant Jewish
student population, I expected a robust layering of Holocaust studies across
grade levels. Instead, I found one unit
on Anne Frank in middle school and an overview of the Holocaust in the European
history elective. This lackluster effort
to incorporate Holocaust education into the regular curriculum nor any special
programming on important dates left me wondering about students’ exposure to genocide studies and the
specific case study of the Holocaust.
Maybe it’s my personal observations and bias
clouding my objectivity, but I imagine that my school is indicative of a much
greater trend. Per a [2005 report by the
Education Commission of the States](http://www.ecs.org/clearinghouse/62/34/6234.pdf),
Holocaust education is mandated in some form by only seventeen states. Alabama,
California, Georgia, Mississippi. Nevada, New Jersey, North Carolina, South
Carolina, Tennessee, and West Virginia have created commissions and task forces
on the Holocaust. California Connecticut, Florida, Illinois, Massachusetts, New
Jersey, New York, Rhode Island, and Washington State have passed laws requiring
or encouraging that education of the Holocaust be part of the curriculum. The
prescribed commissions and task forces are the sole bodies responsible for
implementation. Many of the members of the task forces are volunteers.
The report also states that “eight states have statutes that
specifically require or encourage instruction of the Holocaust be part of the
state education curriculum.” Each state has
curricula and learning standards for each grade level, with the task of
curricula development delegated to educators, policymakers, and higher
education content experts. Yet only the state of New York enforces its policies
by -- wait for it -- reserving “the right to
withhold public funds appropriated to schools that do not meet the curriculum
requirements.”
Without any proactive enforcement,
what good can these policies produce? What sizeable impact can be had? There’s wiggle room for teachers and
educators to eschew Holocaust education, not necessarily out of malintent, but
for convenience or pressure to “cover” major units of studies. The rationale
is understandable, sacrifice this effectively optional state ‘encouragement’ for the more
typical school curriculum, in preparation for State tests or other components
of compulsive education. And this is assuming that teachers at the school level
are even made aware of the requirements by their supervisors...
There is certainly visible variation
in the productivity of the respective state commissions -- New Jersey’s commission coordinates hundreds of
programs annually for tens of thousands of students in grades K-12, per their [2016
report](http://www.nj.gov/education/holocaust/centers/2016gov.pdf).
But as a broad statement, the legislation around mandated Holocaust studies and
implementation are feeble. Sometimes, ‘encouragement’ is not sufficient to motivate action.
The Holocaust is irrefutably one of the most significant tragedies and
genocides in history and the legislation passed and rhetoric by states reflects
this basic understanding. But when it comes to remembrance through education,
it seems that bureaucracy impedes effective and authentic implementation.
My personal Holocaust education has
included my family’s visit to Yad
Vashem in Jerusalem and the Museum of Jewish Heritage in NYC, hearing from
survivors, reading testimonies, reading Night by Elie Wiesel and
commemorating the Shoah annually. The Shoah means more to me than a chapter (or
page) in a history textbook, and I hope for Jews and non-Jews across the nation
to share this sentiment. But as of now, it appears that the majority of my
generation of activists, entrepreneurs, and intrepid thinkers may be losing an
essential component of American and global history.