Listening, Learning & Honoring the Press

Today I was planning on sharing what I have been reading to learn and engage over the past 2 weeks. And, I believe strongly that a commitment to reading, listening and learning is a form of action. But, after yesterday’s shooting at the Capital Gazette, if feels even more important to publicly support the press. To stand up for a free, vibrant, and active press and recognize the bravery and consistent dedication of journalists. So, I’m donating to On the Media today and, through them, supporting WNYC. I am in awe of the journalists at the Capital Gazette that got their paper out in the wake of trauma and tragedy. Thank you to the journalists who continue to do their best and seek truth at an unprecedented pace.


But, today, I am also reflecting on the way that my commitment to action has also been a commitment to re-engaging with the news and the issues at stake after a period of shying away from twitter. In an effort to safeguard my day to day mental energy for work and family and writing, I had minimized my news time. I was reading headlines, ignoring twitter completely, and opting to read the magazine instead of the A section when the NYT comes to our door (yes, we still subscribe to a newspaper!). But, no more. It is my responsibility to be aware and knowledgeable. It is on me to read beyond the headline, to better understand the context and consequences of policy decisions, supreme court rulings, political campaigns, and more.

Now, the more I read, the more I realize that what I was turning away not from the day to day anxieties of the news cycle, but was a sustained outrage; a consistent frustration, anger, and sadness. So, this post is to account for what was behind and a part of my actions over the past two weeks. Here is what I have been reading and listening to. How I have been learning more about the issues I feel most palpably at the moment. And, because I find it essential – also where I have found inspiration.


Child Separation, Detention, + Immigration Policy

MUST SEE! Torn Apart / Separados

“A rapidly deployed critical data & visualization intervention in the USA’s 2018 “Zero Tolerance Policy” for asylum seekers at the US Ports of Entry and the humanitarian crisis that has followed.” This project is the best example of what Digital Humanities can and should be. Using digital skills and methods, a collaborative team of scholars, librarians, and PhD students, visualized the scope of immigration enforcement across the US. The top level takeaway: ICE is everywhere. Also, the border is everywhere. The act of exploring this map is one of revelation: how has the system of US immigration  been so pervasive without acknowledgement or attention? This was built in a week. I can’t even imagine the kinds of impact it will have as it grows.

Emily Dreyfus from Wired covered the project on June 25: “‘ICE is Everywhere’: Using Library Science to Map the Separation Crisis.” As Dreyfus notes, “The result of their week of frantic research is Torn Apart / Separados, an interactive web site that visualizes the vast apparatus of immigration enforcement in the US, and broadly maps the shelters where children can be housed. The name is meant to evoke not only the families who have been separated, but the way in which this sundering rips the social fabric of our country.” The article is also the best justification (not that it needs one) for Digital and Experimental Humanities.


MUST LISTEN! On the Media Podcast: Chaos Agents

I listened to this podcast episode to learn more about the “repatriation” of an estimated 1 million people of Mexican descent in the 1930s. I wasn’t familiar with this episode in history and was appalled (but not entirely surprised) to learn that 60 percent of the people deported were American Citizens – many of them children of immigrant parents. In the episode, Francisco Balderrama, a history and Chicano studies professor at California State University Los Angeles and the co-author of Decade of Betrayal: Mexican Repatriation in the 1930s, describes the rhetoric used to justify the unconstitutional deportations in the 1930s. The language used in the 1930s echoes calls for mass deportations in the US today.

But, I was moved by another part of the episode: a short interview with Dahlia Lithwick, writer for Slate and host of Amicus – a podcast about the Supreme Court. Two things she’s said have stuck in my head since. First, she criticized social media for being a place for where people feel the illusion of action – we click like and feel the illusion of action. Here, I disagree. I think sharing our thoughts and our actions with our own networks is important. It is how we assert our priorities publicly. It is how we can rally our communities and find people who share our concerns. Certainly, we must act beyond social media. We must find ways to enact our values and our social commitments in the real – not the virtual – world. But, we should not write off social media as “arm chair activism.” We should, instead, remember the work of previous generations to host salon style fundraisers and to engage their networks, neighbors, families in the work of organizations. We have moved this work online and we have created virtual space for these connections. But it is no less real and valid. Can we do more to look outside our own echo chambers? Yes. Should we aim to engage in dialogue instead of diatribe? Yes. Can we approach social media platforms as spaces for this hard work? Yes. We should and we must. 

Second, she said, “I look at my kids and I think, they just cannot, cannot grow up in the world where people are hearing a president say that we are infested  with immigrants. So yes, I am so poorly constructed for this, but I think I gotta do it anyway.” This is exactly how I feel and exactly what is motivating this small little #30daysofaction project. I have to do something. And, if I’m not constructed for it, I have to try anyway.


Must Read: One Long Night: A Global History of Concentration Camps
Not ready to commit to a whole book about Concentration camps? Listen to the Trumpcast Podcast: “Detained Without Trial: a History of Concentration Camps,” Slate

Jamelle Bouie talks to Andrea Pitzer,  author of One Long Night: A Global History of Concentration Camps. Pitzer offers necessary context for the debate about whether and how we can compare detention centers on the US/Mexican border to concentration camps. Recognizing that concentration camps have a global history offers a more comprehensive approach to comparison. In other words, Pitzer offers the essential intervention: Auschwitz, and in fact the entire Nazi system of concentration and extermination camps, are no the only model for state detention. 

Bouie and Pitzer also discuss the rhetoric around detention centers and the justification to hold people without trial. This interview is a model for understanding the importance of history and how we approach historical analogues to our contemporary moment.



Charlie Savage, “Korematsu, Notorious Supreme Court Ruling on Japanese Internment, Is Finally Tossed Out” New York Times, June 26

“The Korematsu ruling, an exceedingly rare modern example in which the court explicitly upheld government discrimination against an entire category of people based upon a trait like race or ethnicity, traced back to the early days after Japan attacked Pearl Harbor and the United States entered World War II…Years later, as World War II receded and the civil rights movement unfolded, that policy — and the Supreme Court ruling upholding it — became widely seen as wrong. In 1982, a congressional commission called the policy a “grave injustice” that stemmed from “race prejudice, war hysteria and a failure of political leadership.” In a concurrence, the government said “the decision in Korematsu lies overruled in the court of history.””


Mark Philip Bradley, “Human Rights in the Era of Trump,” AHA Today

More historians weighing in on the Trump moment: “Perhaps even more surprisingly, the reluctance of the American state to fully embrace global human rights is mirrored in contemporary civil society. Most of the major American social movements of the last decade—among them the Occupy protests, the Fair Immigration Movement, the Fight for $15, the Marriage Equality Movement, and Black Lives Matter—took primary inspiration from alternative political and moral lexicons. In their challenges to the mounting chasm in wealth and income between the top one percent of Americans and the rest, the mass incarceration of African Americans, escalating detentions and deportations of immigrants, and growing racial disparities in policing, education, and income, these movements could have turned to the language of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights and its promises of universal guarantees to economic and social rights, to free movement, and to live without racial and gender discrimination. Even though at times they have made rhetorical gestures to the lexicon of human rights, their energies and tactics on the ground have operated largely around a domestic space in which structural arguments about economics and race at home are more believable than oppositional political discourses that draw on global human rights norms and practices.”



Aryeh Cohen, On Humanity and the Rule of Law

“But this is not a story about one demonstration and the civil disobedience that followed it…this is not a story about a multifaith action in protest of the separation of families…This is a story about a Salvadoran diplomat who had no reason to care about the fate of the Jews of Europe except for the fact that they were fellow human beings. That connection led to the rescue of over 10,000 Jewish souls. This is also a story about the connections that are made between humans in this amazingly diverse city, and the caring that can come from paying attention to those connections.”


And, the words and commitment of those who have been fighting this battle for so long. There is no time for despair.
John Lewis #goodtrouble

The fear and freedom of asking anything

Last week, Holocaust survivor Ben Lesser, Founder of the Zachor Holocaust Remembrance Foundation, participated in a Reddit AMA (Ask Me Anything).

The fact of a Holocaust survivor opening him- or herself up to anything on the internet is a scary proposition. The internet is where the depths of Holocaust denial, revisionism, and anti-Semitism dwell. What kinds of questions would arise in this space, on Reddit, in the wake of ongoing anti-Semitism? What kinds of comments would be posted and upvoted? Would hate or stupidity or love or hope be the prevailing tone?

Turns out the live conversation picked up a bit of each of these – but significantly less hate than might be expected. And a lot of the stupidity got voted to the bottom – like the question of a user who identified themselves as a young student, who asked Lesser if he had “ever met Adolf.” Lesser himself starts from a place of love and hope, using Reddit as a platform to “further the case of tolerance” and express the potential for young people to make change in the world by using their voices and speaking out. In his introduction, he urged the readers/users to do so through a new project of his Foundation – I Shout Out.

By focusing on these kinds of take away lessons – “So my advice to you is choose to live a life that matters” – and on the wonder of America, both as the country of his liberators and his postwar home, much of Lesser’s AMA echoes the tone of other contemporary survivor witnessing efforts (ie. here, here, andhere,) and broader representations of Holocaust survivors in American culture (see: here, here, and (of course) here). But, what does it mean for this kind of dialogue to happen online and for the boundaries of questions to be unbound? As institutions of Holocaust memory start to engage in online spaces, the ability of users to post questions, both historical and intimate, thoughtful and provocative, to comment, sub comment, and vote on these iterative conversations seems even more transgressive.

The USC Shoah Foundation YouTube channel has over 1,000 survivor testimonies available for viewing. And, the US Holocaust Memorial Museum has started webcasting their  First Person program, allowing viewers around the world to watch live conversations taking place at the museum in which survivors speak about their experiences under Nazism. While these digital projects invite greater access to the voices and stories of survivors, they still do so within moderated and limited parameters: the set up remains an interviewer and interviewee, the questions are prioritized by the host institution, and internet viewers cannot interact directly with the survivor.

Lesser’s AMA, on the other hand, was not an interview between two people – one of whom had a story to tell and the other an obligation to listen [citation 1]. Rather, Lesser opened himself up to be interviewed by anyone, although he retained the ability to choose which questions to answer and which to leave alone. He responded in detail to some questions – about what he saw, what his worst memory was, what he wishes he could tell his younger self – and left many others without answer. For example, repeated questions about Israel and Zionism and the connection of the Holocaust to ongoing Israel/Palestine politics were taken up not by Lesser, but by other Reddit users.

But, it is not just the openness of the questions that feels different from other models of online Holocaust survivor witnessing. The space of Reddit, the space of the internet itself here, is without limit. There is no Youtube screen, no house plant in the corder of a Shoah Foundation video, no stage or chair or moderator. Lesser’s responses are not visual or audio – they are virtual. This space, one that does not rely on a survivor’s body or voice to authenticate their memories and does not set the boundaries for what should be talked about or how it should be said, feels unsettled and new. Yet, It evokes many of the earliest frameworks for survivor narratives. Survivors, in the wake of liberation, wrote down their memories for court cases, legal documentation, and communal collection projects, like the Jewish Historical Commissions that started in 1944 [citation 2]. These accounts were roughly drawn, written hastily, and sometimes dictated (as Lesser’s AMA was).

The AMA string is still open – other Reddit users are posting about experiences they lived through or their grandparents lived through under Nazism and responses are nested inside other responses. Some of the initial questions and comments that were openly or subtly anti-Semitic were voted down and are now hidden from the front page. The detailed responses Lesser gave to questions about his liberation and his personal experiences with violence in the concentration camps have been voted to the top.

As this conversation continues and the openness of a space for ‘anything’ grows through comments, sub comments, and responses, the nature of a testimony – a direct conversation between an interviewer and an interviewee, already so tangled through an online forum like Reddit, becomes ever more networked. As more voices become part of this conversation, it weaves out in multiple directions, and offers an entirely new way of thinking about Holocaust witnessing – not as the voice and words of one survivor, but as a public discourse that breaks down the limitations of a video taped testimony.

But, what does it mean for Holocaust memory to grow out in these unexpected and unknown ways? Do the possible dangers of this kind of open forum outweigh the value of public engagement? These questions remain open as Holocaust memory changes in the digital age and transforms for the world when survivors are no longer able to answer these questions directly.

1.   See Henry Greenspan, On Listening to Holocaust Survivors : Recounting and Life History, (Westport, Conn.: Praeger, 1998) and Dori Laub, “Bearing Witness or the Vicissitudes of Listening,” In Testimony: Crises of Witnessing in Literature, Psychoanalysis, and History, edited by Shoshana Felman and Dori Laub (New York; London: Routledge, 1992).
2.   See Laura Jockusch, Collect and Record!: Jewish Holocaust Documentation in Early Postwar Europe (New York, N.Y.: Oxford University Press, 2012).


Originally posted on >

Selfies, Memory Sites, & “appropriate” forms of commemoration

The selfie of San Antonio Spurs’ Danny Green at the Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe (in Berlin) is making the rounds online. The people of the internet are “outraged,” both, it seems, at the picture itself and at the caption Green wrote: “You know I had to do it one time lol #Holocaust.” Undoubtedly, the pairing of “lol” with “#Holocaust” is insensitive, unthoughtful, and shallow. And, Green responded to the incident by issuing multiple twitter apologies and a new caption: “A lot of history here, more than you could imagine…very sad/tragic things happened #holocaust #berlin.”

But this selfie scandal, if we want to over-estimate its importance in the world, touched a nerve around Holocaust selfies more generally and renewed a conversation about behavior at Concentration Camps, memorials, and other sites of Holocaust memory. Lilit Marcus from the Guardian has published a piece today about Holocaust Selfies and Holocaust Tourism. In the article, she argues:

“For some people, a visit to a place like Auschwitz isn’t about paying respect or learning about history – it’s simply yet another “must-see attraction” they’re checking off in their guidebook, a thing to be Instagrammed, like the Mona Lisa or the Leaning Tower of Pisa.”

While she makes a compelling personal case for not wanting to visit these sites and instead visiting places Jews lived before and after the Holocaust, it seems like there is more to be said here about travel, Holocaust memory, and social media.

Read the rest at the Memories/Motifs blog >

Instagram, Memory Making, and Leaving LA

The last few months have been all about change. In May, I submitted my dissertation. In June, I received my PhD from UCLA. In July, Adam and I moved from LA to Santa Cruz, CA. Next week, I start a postdoc at UC Santa Cruz. After 7 years of graduate school and living in Los Angeles, a new adventure has begun.

As we started packing in June, I realized that I wanted to document what we were leaving.  The idea started by wanting to keep a record of the most ridiculous aspects of LA life: celebrity spotting, juice cleanses, hyper-local/organic/food culture, excessive gym going, etc. (All clichés. All somewhat awesome.).  So, I planned to instagram (yes, as a verb) my last month in LA and used the hashtag #30moredaysinLA to do so.

Things I learned pretty quickly upon starting this project:

1)   Taking generic “LA” pictures is not very interesting: Far away shots of tv/commercial celebrities are of no interest to anyone. And, in the long term, was that really what I would want to remember about my 7 years in LA?  It wasn’t. So, the project, instead, was about my last 30 days in LA – what I was doing, what I would miss, and what I loved about my life there.

2)   It’s not that easy to define a consistent Instagram “voice”: creating visually engaging and communicative photographs everyday was a challenge.  I had to focus on taking good pictures with my phone. Not pictures that reminded me where I parked or what books I wanted to buy, but composed shots that could document a moment, a feeling, an idea and convey that to a virtual audience. Pairing the visual image with a caption also took some thought. Did I want to be snarky? Did I want to be sincere? How could I be both?

3)   Sharing pictures of my life everyday dictated what I did each day: Some days, I took a picture of the boring thing I was really doing, like working or packing boxes. And, some days I relied on older pictures that spoke to something I really loved about LA. But, most days, I felt motivated to do things so that I could take a picture of it. On the one hand, I did things I had long been meaning to do, like stroll the Venice canals and hike at Topanga Canyon. On the other hand, I felt the pressure of making public a life that was more active and exciting than the one I normally lived (which generally consisted of shuttling back and forth between UCLA’s campus and neighborhood coffee shops).

4)   Some basic social media lessons: (1) People “like” pictures with people in them more than pictures without people. (2) If you take pictures of food, use lots of hashtags if you want get people you don’t know to “like” them. (3)  I am susceptible to craving “likes” and obsessing over them!  Why did people like some pictures and not others? Was it the time of day I posted? The nature of the caption? Even though this project was mostly for me, I was still concerned about what would be popular. This was compounded when I started sharing the posts on Facebook, where family members, childhood friends, long lost acquaintances, and friends of friends could also see, “like,” and comment.

As a historian particularly concerned with memory, the whole experiment felt overly meta. I was creating, editing, captioning, and sharing pictures about my life as a way of curating my own LA memory.  By choosing the images that best conveyed what I wanted to remember, I elided moments of loneliness, sadness, and frustration. This should not have come as a surprise because this is fundamentally what social media does. We share the best versions of ourselves and our lives. But, it struck me, as I tried to encapsulate 30 things I loved about LA, how easy it is to construct memory not only for our social media “friends” but for ourselves.

Looking back through the hashtag now, I’m glad that I included mundane days as well as exciting days, and my favorite shots are the ones that evoke a complex emotional moment, many of which were prompted by the process of packing and moving. The picture of old CDs that reminded me of so many past musical moments is as provocative as the one of me dropping off my very last UCLA library book, which still (over 6 weeks later) prompts a complicated feeling of melancholy. By looking at the images as a whole collection, I also notice a few things I didn’t anticipate: like how often I wear the same outfit (black jeans, black t-shirt, jean jacket), how beautiful LA can be, and how absent the people that populated my LA life are from this record.

Thinking about the relationship between social media and the construction of both a public and private memory made the effort more exciting for me. And taking stock of what kind of memory it created makes me excited to try it again. So, I’m going to document the first 30 days of my new, post-graduate school, post-doctoral position. This time I hope to add a bit more text to some of the posts on this blog so that I can reflect on the new things I’m learning and the moments when my training as a historian is in tension with my new position in the library. But, already, this goal seems devoid of people, so let’s see if I can change my own impulse in memory making.

Stay tuned. And, follow my new hashtag adventure: #30SantaCruzfirsts