Last school year, while teaching a class of teenagers, two girls told Holocaust jokes in my class. These girls know my family. They were friends with my teenage daughters. They know we’re Jewish. They know our daughters are the great-grandchildren of survivors. Yet two girls told multiple Holocaust jokes on the last day of my class. The responses illustrate two ways to deal with hatred, which I think are particularly necessary now.
Both mothers were made aware of the situation. Both mothers brought their daughters to me after class. From there, the responses were vastly different.
The first mother brought her daughter to me. The girl was in tears. She apologized and seemed genuinely sorry. I was able to talk to her about our family’s story. She listened and apologized repeatedly. The mother apologized profusely too. She made it clear such behavior was unacceptable. She later contacted me to ask for resources so she could better teach her daughter about the Holocaust.
The second mother brought her daughter to me. Rather than a genuine apology, the teen told me, “I’m sorry if I did something to offend you.” My response (after I wrestled my eyebrows back down because I was so shocked she would say such a thing) was something along the lines of, “You told Holocaust jokes in my class.” At which point, she denied it. She said I misunderstood. She insisted she said, “Juice,” not “Jews.” She lied—boldly to my face and in front of her mother (who was aware she was lying). In my class, this girl told multiple Holocaust jokes. A room full of teenagers heard them. No one denied it but her. For the rest of that day, she burst into tears and got hugs and support from her friends. Telling Holocaust jokes obviously isn’t nearly as bad as getting in trouble for telling Holocaust jokes. I know of no follow-up. Her mother never contacted me to apologize. The girl never spoke to me again.
One response was immediate responsibility, obvious remorse, and a plan to educate. The other response was really nothing from the mother and denial and white tears from the daughter.
The responses from those around us that day are also of note.
I’ll highlight my own response. Some may ask what I said in the wake of the jokes. Honestly, I was speechless. I have seen anti-Semitism, but never before did I have someone tell a Holocaust joke right in front of me and my family. I was in such shock and disbelief that I had no idea how to respond. My teen daughters were also silent. How do you wrap your head around such things coming from friends?
After those girls told their third or fourth joke in succession, one of the teens in my class spoke up and told them to stop. He was good friends with the first girl and he was dating the second girl at the time. Yet he was willing to speak up and say something. It was only after he did that that I was able to find the words to tell the teens it was never appropriate and remind them of our story. I’m an adult, but I needed the support of a 14-year-old before I could collect my thoughts and find my voice.
I eventually left the classroom shaking. Another teacher, upon hearing what happened, jumped up and took over my class. I wasn’t there, but from what I’ve heard, she took the class to task. They were told they needed to talk to people and understand why their behavior wasn’t okay. She reminded them of the damage they had done. She wouldn’t let them ignore it or forget it. She has since become a good friend, but, at the time, she was a fairly new acquaintance. Still, she jumped up to help and she checked on me later to make sure I was OK.
The director, upon hearing what had happened, immediately spoke to the parents. When I had to leave after that, she understood. She checked in on me later in the day. She worked with me to make sure we felt safe and respected.
Others have one of two responses when I tell them teens told Holocaust jokes in my class. Most are absolutely horrified. Some think it’s no big deal and “kids will be kids.”
In the past few weeks, there has been an increase in evidence of bigotry in the world around us. Many of us are angry. Many of us feel helpless. What can we do in the wake of racist/anti-immigrant/sexist/ableist/islamophobic/anti-Semetic comments, vandalism, and attacks? We have a choice in how we respond to bigotry around us. We can choose silence. We can choose to deflect blame. We can choose to educate, advocate, work together, and change.
