Bryan had anger issues in sixth grade. One day another boy in my class called him “gay” and he flung his desk across the room and chased the boy all the way to the main office where he ended up in a heap of trouble...again. Despite all of the impulsive and often violent behavior, deep down underneath the tough-guy façade, Bryan had many likable qualities. But he still ended up being moved to our school’s alternative program for students with behavioral issues.
When I began my Holocaust unit later that year, I asked if Bryan could come out of the alternative program for two class periods a day so that he could join us. He was very interested and was the model student for the time that he was with me. So much so that when I was able to secure a trunk full of Holocaust teaching materials from the New Jersey Commission on Holocaust Education, I asked Bryan to participate in the presentation of the trunk to the board of education. That evening he articulated his thoughts with intelligence and sensitivity. He made me very proud.
There was no indication of any behavioral problems during the Holocaust unit, so I felt confident asking my principal for permission to include Bryan in the culminating activity of the unit. We were planning to take about 20 students to a local college to listen to a Holocaust survivor speak and participate in a few small group breakout sessions afterwards. Spending time with a Holocaust survivor is a unique and special experience and is the type of thing that stays with you always. I wanted Bryan to have that opportunity.
After much debate we ended up in a huge auditorium filled with students from all over southern New Jersey listening to Irving Roth recount his experiences. He spoke of being rounded up and placed on a cattle car. He talked about losing his grandparents and cousins in Auschwitz. He recounted the forced march to Buchenwald with his brother. And he recalled his brother’s eventual murder at the hands of the Nazis at Bergen-Belsen. Bryan sat riveted and silent on the edge of his seat.
When we were divided into breakout sessions, Mr. Roth addressed our class and one other small group. He graciously took questions. I was a little nervous when Bryan raised his hand. When Mr. Roth came to him Bryan asked whether or not he had a tattoo as we had learned that many prisoners at Auschwitz had received. He said he did indeed have one and raised the sleeve of his shirt to show it to my class.
Our bus arrived and it was time to head out. I rounded up all of my students, but Bryan was unaccounted for. I went back to an art gallery that was displaying Holocaust art. Students had been given a few minutes to examine the paintings and photographs. I found Bryan standing in a line of children waiting to speak to Irving Roth. I told him it was time to go, that we needed to get back to the bus quickly. He said, “No. I am staying right here.”
I continued to explain why we couldn’t stay. As I looked at him, I began to get nervous. His arms were crossed against his chest, his eyes were dark and belligerent; he was not leaving. Please don’t do this now, I thought to myself. Finally, it occurred to me to ask him what he was doing. He said, “If that man can go through everything he did, come here and tell us about it and show us that tattoo on his arm, then the least I can do is stay here until I can shake his hand and say ‘thank you.’”
I certainly couldn’t argue with logic like that so I stood in line with him and forgot all about the bus.
Spain is a middle school language arts teacher in New Jersey.
Links:
[1] http://www.tolerance.org/author/jill-spain