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Intergenerational Protection in Holocaust Survivor Families and its Impact on the Second Generation's Other Relationships


drs. Gaby R. Glassman
London, England

Abstract

Articles dealing with the problems of communication within Holocaust survivor families often focus on the prevalence of a mutually protective mechanism. They describe survivors who do not wish to burden their children with their Holocaust experiences and children who do not want to ask their parents questions for fear of upsetting them.

This paper covers the communication between the first and second generation and considers the impact this has had on their relationships with the third generation and with their partners, friends and colleagues. It highlights the continued protection of survivor parents by their adult children. It also illustrates how the lack of separation between the first and second generation is likely to impinge on the ability of the second generation children to think and act independently in handling conflict.

Introduction:

For the purposes of this paper I will comment only on my impressions of the children of survivors and refugees whom I have seen individually in my private practice or in second generation groups I have conducted in London over the past twelve years.

The groups were short-term, lasting twelve sessions, and composed of children of survivors and of children of refugees whose parents came to the UK before the outbreak of war. In most cases, close relatives were left behind. Irrespective of particular background, the impact on the second generation appears to be very similar. Unless otherwise specified, I shall - for the sake of brevity - refer to the first generation as survivors. Usually, I saw only one member of a family, although often I was told that other siblings needed my help just as much, if not more.

Statements about the third generation are based on what the first and second generation have reported about them; my direct contact is limited. My formulations are tentative, therefore, and cannot be attributed to the entire second and third generation.

I will describe certain recurring themes that I have observed in Jewish families affected by the Shoah. However, these can occur and I have noted them in my clients from other populations that have suffered trauma, been refugees or belong to minority groups.

Relationships:
a. Relationships between first and second generation

Survivors have said that when they did want to bear witness immediately after the war, there were few people who wanted to listen to their story. Consequently, they stopped talking about it and turned their energy towards building a new life. They did not mourn their multiple losses, but rather they suppressed their emotions and managed to stay on an even keel by keeping busy. However, we know now that they still passed their legacy to their children, all-be-it unconsciously.

Some parents spoke openly about their Holocaust experiences, while others avoided the topic. Most of the adult children I have seen tended to come from families in which the Holocaust was seldom mentioned. Nonetheless, they picked up messages indirectly, through overheard conversations and nightmares, as well as non-verbally through facial expressions and mere silence. To quote a daughter of survivors, "silence can be very noisy indeed". Children who heard little about their parents' experiences, tended to fill the gap in their knowledge with fantasies which could be as terrible as or worse than the reality. Through the silence, they absorbed feelings and fears which, unconsciously, parents had projected onto them.

Second generation offspring thought, when parents were unable to bond with them, that it was because they had done something wrong and they then felt bad about themselves. So they tried, again and again, to get it right next time, not realising that their parents could not give what they did not have. These children grew up not knowing what love really was, because their damaged role models had been unable to show it. As they could not meet their parents' idealised expectations, they never felt "good enough" and this led to a lack in confidence.

When the children were still young, the entire family often colluded in not challenging the survivor's susceptibilities. However, from adolescence onwards, responses to it could differ significantly. Separation was either achieved by breaking away in adolescence or was managed only much later, not infrequently with the help of therapy. For survivors, their children's adolescence and leaving home often resonated with their own turbulent separation from home and resulted in them feeling abandoned again.

Children tried to be kind and were often over-accommodating in trying to please their parents. Subjugating their own needs to their parents' inhibited the development of their own identity and individuality. Sensitive children found it particularly difficult to separate from their parents, both physically and emotionally, and tried not to rock the boat, aware of the anguish it would cause. It was also an easier option for them, because they would then not have to assert themselves and deal with any ensuing conflict.

On occasions that they did not support their traumatised parents but tried to stand up to them, parents seemed to experience it as rejection which made them - the survivors - feel totally desolate. In response, children soon learned not to do it again.

My clients had problems meeting the increasing demands made on them in adult life, aspiring to do the "right" thing, as perceived by others. They felt they had to be available dutifully at their parents' beck and call. In addition, they had to handle their relationships and their work commitments. Consequently, they felt pulled in all directions and, always trying to please everyone, satisfied no one. They were the main sufferers, never having had space or time for themselves. They mentioned frequently that they felt inadequate and saw themselves as failures as children, partners and parents. They were still not aware of the choices available to them.

Members of the second generation mentioned that they were not allowed to make mistakes and complained about their parents' tunnel vision, which allowed little or no room for a broader scope or Weltanschauung. This kind of approach adopted by many survivors, felt oppressive and hindered their offspring's normal development. Children who had not been able to achieve separation, seemed to automatically be sucked into their parents' mindset and its ambiguities.

Some parents abused their position, resorting to blackmail to fight their own worst fears. They seemed to know which buttons to press to generate the appropriate response in their children. The children genuinely believed that their parents would carry out their threats.

Some preferred to remain childless rather than to inflict on the third generation, what they felt the first generation had inflicted on them. These children considered themselves inadequate and ill prepared for the parenting role.

b. Relationships with friends and partners :

From what children reported, they thought long and hard before bringing friends home. When they did, some survivor parents would behave in a way that did not make close friends feel welcome, let alone at ease. Parents' attitude indicated to their children that friendships with outsiders would bring conflicts of loyalty that would impinge on the established security of the home and question its unstated ethos. The child's loyalty to both family and friend did not seem a feasible option.

Once the child married, similar loyalty issues would arise involving the mechutanim as well. Concerns were expressed about the "right match", as what felt right for the children did not necessarily meet all the criteria parents had in mind. Members of the second generation were often unaware that it was unlikely that anyone would satisfy their parents' expectations. Marrying into the Anglo-Jewish community was considered, by survivors, to be almost equivalent to marrying a German.

Socially, there was often a certain amount of reservation and distancing. Although yearning for intimacy, this was shunned at the same time, because it was experienced as suffocating or associated with the potential for over-dependency. It could also evoke fears of losing the very person they loved, as their parents had done. When in a relationship with someone, some would test it to the point of destruction or reject their partner to prevent being rejected themselves. Those members of the second generation who felt unloved throughout their childhood, found it hard to believe someone might actually like them.

Some children mentioned that the only acceptable reason for leaving home was to get married, but the message seemed to be paradoxical. Although, undoubtedly, getting married and having children was seen to be most important and a sentiment instilled from an early age, many parents could not bear the physical separation from their son or daughter. After all, they assumed that their children would look after them. Often, they were unable to adapt to the change in the family dynamic. Comments, such as "judging from my mother's face at my wedding, you would have thought it was my funeral", were quoted more than once. Not surprisingly, these tensions did not easily disappear subsequently and caused a great deal of stress for the children and their partners. The decision to get married with its far-reaching implications proved extremely difficult for the second generation, unsure as they were of their own feelings.

c. Relationships with colleagues

Many of my second generation clients felt pressure from their parents to achieve academically and professionally, although a minority of parents was reported to be completely disinterested. Many children who could cope with what was demanded of them, have become high-achievers. Like their parents, they immersed themselves in their work and tended to take on too much. Naturally, this preoccupation paid a toll on family life.

They seldom contemplated refusing requests or declining the "opportunities" offered. They did not realise that apart from wanting to prove themselves, they were perhaps also investing so much of their energy in work to fulfil their parents' wishes.

Further complications arose when they were unable to set priorities or to make choices that required an option to be dropped. They always seem to prefer to leave their options open - just in case. They would sit on more committees than they could cope with, but would not take the initiative to leave. On the one hand, their lack of trust in colleagues made them reluctant to turn down work and delegate, but on the other hand they felt exploited, particularly when they sensed that colleagues were taking advantage of their transparent commitment to a cause.

My clients continue to mention problems in dealing with authority. They find it difficult simply to obey orders but are afraid to challenge them. They would project onto their bosses the same sort of feelings that were hindering their relationship with their parents. Conflicts would remain unresolved. Not surprisingly, a large number of the second generation appears to be self-employed.

d. Relationships between the first and the third generation

Children often thought that giving grandchildren to their parents, would be the greatest pleasure for them. It was a big disappointment, therefore, when the survivor parent was unable to show their delight. Some survivors, having witnessed the killing of tiny babies, found it hard to trust that their newly born grandchild would survive. As the child developed from babyhood into being a little person, their anxiety would gradually fade away and a close relationship could ensue.

With the passage of time, issues that were important for survivors when they brought up their own children do not seem to matter as much now and this has changed their expectations. Consequently, a healthier and more open way of communicating has been allowed to develop with their grandchildren. There is room for hearing as well as being heard.
Laura, the three-year old daughter of Susan, one of my second generation clients, asked her grandmother: "Grandma, what is that number on your arm?". The grandmother, an Auschwitz survivor, replied in a very matter of fact way. However, Susan could not leave the room fast enough. She had a flash-back and re-experienced her anxiety when she, at roughly the same age, had asked her mother the same question. At that time her mother had replied in a cold, detached, tone and a frozen facial expression "Oh, it is a telephone number". It taught Susan not to ask such questions ever again.

The third generation's interest in finding out what happened to their family during the Holocaust has resulted in grandchildren interviewing their grandparents for school projects. This has helped to break down the wall of silence within the family. However, the relationship between grandparents and grandchildren can be a source of envy for members of the second generation who feel they have missed out yet again. Never having experienced this kind of closeness and unconditional love from their survivor parents, when they were young, they still do not have it now, although, finally, it seems to be available.

e. Impact on the third generation

The information on the effects of the third generation is based on statements made by the first and second generation seen professionally. The areas of concern centred around food, control and their ability to handle conflict.

Food

Second generation mothers who lacked self-esteem sometimes considered their children's acceptance of their food as the benchmark for being a successful mother. They felt at a loss, when their children did not feed according to "the norm" and experienced it as a rejection of them. Mothers could become panic-stricken if their baby lost weight or their toddler frequently did not feel like eating. Their acute anxiety appeared to be caused by their survivor parents' images of death and starvation which they had internalised. Accordingly, force-feeding seemed to them the obvious and only way for their child to survive.

Control and ability to handle conflict

Children of survivors often repeated the patterns of behaviour with their own children that had characterised their relationship with their parents. Having missed out on a suitable parenting model themselves, they found that parenting their children did not come easily to them .

As in their relationship with the first generation, boundaries between self and offspring were often blurred. Instead of gauging their response to a current situation on its own merits and setting their own boundaries of acceptable behaviour, they tended to react to what they perceived to be their survivor parents' standards, which they had internalised. Consequently, they either were almost as controlling as their parents or overcompensated by being over-permissive.

Many never had the chance to learn ways of dealing with their anger. One adult child of survivors stated that the main aim of her therapy was "to learn to have a good argument with her partner". Children did not believe their anger was justified, as it seemed so trivial in comparison to their parents' and many tended to keep their anger in. Only occasionally, when it became too much to contain, some would explode in a rage.

The third generation's success was seen as terribly important to second generation parents: failure meant to them, that they had let their survivor parents down. Still searching for the approval and unconditional love from their survivor parents, they also sought it from their children. Contrary to the first generation, however, the third generation did have it to give, but sometimes would not out of anger, since, by withholding it, they were able to control their needy parents. The second generation became the children and the losers again.

Conclusion:

This paper has described themes that I have explored with my clients from the first three generations after the Shoah. These themes are not necessarily unique to Holocaust survivor families; they may be prevalent following exposure to other trauma and when issues of separation remain unresolved.

Undoubtedly, with the passage of time, the transgenerational impact of the Shoah will become less pronounced and the legacy harder to recognise. For this reason, we need to increase our understanding now, while the patterns are still discernible clearly.

© Gaby Glassman 1999 This paper is an adaptation from a paper presented at the AMCHA conference in Jerusalem in November 1998.