Image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

Earlier this spring, I had the unique opportunity to participate in the Germany Close Up Fellowship through the Hillel Jewish University Center of Pittsburgh. Our journey took us through Berlin, allowing us to explore German-Jewish history, Holocaust remembrance, and contemporary German society through walking tours, museum visits, and discussions with local leaders.

From this experience, the way Berlin has decided to commemorate the Holocaust and its prelude is what has stuck with me the most. Covered in layers of history, Berlin incorporates remembrance into daily living rather than avoiding its traumatic past. The city urges you to face its past in subdued yet impactful ways, from the Stolpersteine — little brass plaques set into pavements outside the old residences of Holocaust victims — to enormous memorials — like the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe.

The extent of Berlin’s destruction during World War II was one thing I was unaware of before my trip. The city was left in ruins, and the subsequent rehabilitation effort was truly remarkable. I learned that Berlin took the time to recreate the city rather than just rebuilding. Using documents, materials, and photographs as references, several historic locations and structures underwent meticulous restoration to accurately depict their original architecture. Honoring the past while constructing a future was the goal of this painstaking repair, which went beyond aesthetics.

The visit to the former Ravensbrück concentration camp, which was mostly used to confine women, was one of the trip’s unforgettable and impactful experiences. It was extremely devastating and unsettling to see the gas chamber and hear the stories of individuals who had been imprisoned there. Victims were  not only Jewish, but many were Roma and Sinti, political prisoners, or targeted because of their sexual orientation. Even though I had studied the Holocaust in school, there is a weight to being there that a textbook could never convey.

I gained a better grasp of Berlin’s historical development, thanks to the walking excursions across the city. We learned about the thriving communities that formerly existed and the ones that are currently rebuilding as we examined historical and current Jewish life. We enjoyed lunch with congregation members after being greeted by a small synagogue in Leipzig. Before World War II, Leipzig’s Jewish community was a vibrant and integral part of the city, numbering over 13,000 members by 1925, making it the largest in Saxony. However, the Holocaust decimated this population, leaving only a handful of survivors. By 1945, merely 15 Jews remained in Leipzig. It was heartwarming and encouraging to see Jewish life flourishing once more in cities outside of Berlin that had suffered so much. As of 2019, the Jewish community in Leipzig had grown to 1,196 members, once again becoming the largest Jewish congregation in Saxony. 

Throughout the week, we met with local experts, activists, and political leaders. We had candid conversations about how Germany approaches antisemitism today, and I was struck by how transparent and proactive those efforts are. One meeting that stood out was with a group called the “Experts’ Network against Antisemitism” in Leipzig. Their grassroots work reminded me of how important education and allyship are in combating hate, not just in Germany, but back home as well. This trip was far more than a tour of historic sites. It was a journey through memory, resilience, and hope. It reminded me that remembering is not a passive act, it’s an active choice to engage with the past so we can shape a more just future.

The theme throughout is that Jewish life continues to flourish even in areas where it was all but eradicated. I witnessed not only the healing wounds of history but also the resilience required to rebuild while visiting Berlin and Leipzig, talking to locals, and standing at both catastrophe and revival sites. This trip served as a reminder to me that remembering the past is important, but so is making connections to the present and the future. I left Germany with a deeper appreciation for my roots and a fresh feeling of obligation to spread the word of remembering, resiliency, and optimism everywhere I go.

By: Sydney Holubow

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