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The Holocaust Survivors' Group


Paula David MSW
Holocaust Resource Coordinator
Baycrest Centre for Geriatric Care
Toronto, Canada

Born in North America in the late forties, I was raised in the dark and mysterious shadows of the Nazi Holocaust. There were enough lost relatives to supply me and all my cousins with Yiddish memorial names, and always enough tears when we wanted information about the origin of these names. Over the years the whispers and phantoms took on substance and education gave them their ominous place in history. Nothing however, prepared me for the challenging, demanding, sometimes intimidating and always rewarding experience of developing and sustaining the Holocaust Survivors' Group at the Baycrest Terrace.

The Baycrest Terrace is a supportive housing complex housing over two hundred Jewish residents. Part of Baycrest Centre for Geriatric Care in Toronto, Canada, the Terrace provides residents with their own apartments, a daily kosher main meal in the communal dining room, social work and therapeutic recreation services, twenty-four hour primary nursing care, and a 'mall' of shops and services.

Almost half the residents are Holocaust survivors. Their average age is eighty-three years old and they have lived through horrific Holocaust experiences, and represent most of the countries, cultures and languages of the Survivor. Much is beginning to be written in the various professional journals about the impact of the Holocaust on institutionalized survivors, as this group is aging and requiring residential care. There is less documentation of this impact on the frail elderly survivors who are still in independent or semi-institutional living situations like the Baycrest Terrace.

As the social worker in this setting, my ongoing and continuous clinical work is to positively motivate, support and encourage the process that the frail elderly in general encounter with the aging process. With the Holocaust survivor in particular, the work must focus on the same process, with the legacy of the Holocaust inflicting and intruding itself upon every aspect of daily living. Following the annual Terrace Yom HaShoa (Holocaust Remembrance) ceremony in April 1992, several residents commented that they would like to share their experiences and feelings. However, they were not sure they could handle either the organizational aspects or the expected emotional strains involved in coming together on a regular and formalized basis. At the time, it seemed a relatively straightforward task to develop a support group for these women. My commitment was to celebrate their strengths and to focus on their survival. Cohen points out how :

"Research has tended to focus on the trauma-related aspects of survivors and not on their coping strategies and contributions to others ..... Survivors have been victimized enough, both by the Holocaust and by the process of aging".

With this consideration in mind, I agreed to work with them form a Survivors Group. This worker and twelve residents began the tentative and sometimes tortuous-but always supportive process of becoming a Group. We experienced the growing pains of any Group, and at times I was able to relax in the predictability of group process. However, the uniqueness of their shared isolation and experience, as well as their advancing years (average age is eighty-six) led us into undefined and often treacherous territory.

This paper will examine the growth both of the Group and the Group leader, and my abilities to respond to their needs, both stated and unstated. This has been a group-work experience unlike any other, in that the members are an oppressed minority, and as survivors have set a precedent of post-traumatic stress symptomatology previously unrecognized. Given their frail elderly status, there are also many implications for a group-work leader to consider in terms of vulnerability and need for mutual aid and support. The final paradox is that the majority of survivors, over fifty years after the fact, in order to have coped this long, have in one way or another demonstated remarkable strengths and coping mechanisms beyond the scope of the average imagination. The members' need is not one based on a pathological foundation, but one of coming to terms with the inconceivable, settling with the ghosts of the past when they are often uncountable, and verbalizing the gist of fifty years of silence, fearing the return of deaf ears.

Schindler et al describe how,

"In later life, when friends are gone, the need to share with others become urgent; to bear witness is vital. Helping persons share these experiences is no easy task. To engage the elderly with reminiscences, memory, bereavement, and the working through of guilt provides unusual challenges for the helping professions".

The first meeting was a classic experience for a group leader. Mrs. L. crossed her arms over chest, and said "Thank you dear for asking me, but I will never talk". Four ladies followed suit. Three more didn't have the strength, and just sat weeping.

It was a slow, tearful and painful process. We came up with operating guidelines and limits, with the members continually dealing with and clarifying their own needs for support, company or solitude. This took place over time, and the physical and emotional toll the meetings took on the members was sometimes overwhelming. Vuysje points out that,

"Life in the camps or the fear associated with going into hiding were often so terrible that the victims themselves did not realize just how traumatic it was, let alone trying to explain it to others. And yet those horrific experiences are a part of their personal reality, it is the same as a renewed denial of the victims' existence, a 'loss of control' over their own lives. The plea or even demand for acknowledgement consciously and unconsciously - it is a survival mechanism. It is a way of maintaining contact with their own hardly understandable reality within everyday reality".

Eventually a delicate balance was reached so that the group could settle in and define itself.

As a group-worker, I don't remember a series of opening meetings of any new group, where almost all the potential members arrived already in tears, and the group leader was almost as frightened as they. They wanted to know how a group could help them, why they should break their silence now, how I would respond to their 'stories', could I be trusted to even hear their stories, why anyone would want to spend time with them as a survivors group, and how a group could reconcile any of their losses at this stage?

The group process began. There are meetings that celebrate the strengths of our members and loved relatives that they have lost, and the tone is one of renewal. There are meetings that mourn their losses, and the tone is one of grief. For almost two years we have sustained our Group, and in the process offered a modicum of comfort to our members. They have defined their needs, they keep returning and they have maintained the vitality and necessity of the Group.

As the literature does point out, people who have held fast to a long-term silence, may need alternate and new ways of breaking it. Furthermore, a long-term struggle for individuation for each of the members, made the group process a further challenge, and new dynamics and venues for communication would have to be learned in order to deal with their struggles. The long-term residential setting also, in my opinion, defined the need for an ongoing open-ended group, which would further increase the challenge. Many of the documented Survivor groups are based on short-term finite sessions, that are clearly defined and structured to allow a smooth progression through the relevant issues. An open-ended group, while allowing for long-term results and follow-through, would place increased demands on the group leader.

I also had to deal with my own emotional involvement both with the overall impact of the Holocaust and the havoc it had wrought on their lives. They claimed that I wouldn't be able to bear the burden of their grief should they share it, and initially I shared their fears. I had to find a comfort level for myself that coincided with theirs, and then develop a trust with a group of individuals that has every reason in the world to be leery of trusting. In discussing the issue of trust, a year-and-a-half after the opening meeting, the members were more than comfortable disclosing that they had not trusted me at all at the beginning, nor when it comes to sharing the burden of their memories, do they really trust anyone. By overcoming their lack of trust, they could begin to deal with their fears.

Their explanation was simple - when they first arrived in this country, their trust was betrayed again and again. People were afraid of what they had to say, denied the validity of their stories, and begrudged them any success they achieved in this country as 'newcomers'. In a collective poem they state their case.

Why Should We Trust?

They donÍt like us,
They see we are survivors - the numbers on the arm,
And they close their hearts.
Why should we trust?
When you want to understand you can.
It is possible if only people would try.
But they called us "greeners" and wouldn't look at the arm.
And they closed their eyes.
Why should we trust?
They didn't' want to understand or know our situation.
They don't want to know from Hitler.
They are not interested.
Forty-five years in this country.
And they still don't like us.
Why should we trust?

 


The very essence of their having survived was betrayed. They were betrayed in their countries of origin, they were often betrayed in the process of their rescue, and they met the ultimate betrayal when they arrived in the new country where they have been praying for a safe haven. Their 'stories' were minimalized at best and at worse not believed, and they retreated into a shell of defensive silence in order to protect themselves and take on the burden of building a new life on a shattered foundation. They were further confronted by continuous generalizations on the meaning and psychology of "survivor". Venaki et al remind the reader how,

"Much of past discussions of the psychological consequences of the holocaust are based on clinical case studies on pathological phenomena".

Giberovitch looks to strengths saying,

"We can play an important role in empowering survivors to realize and appreciate their own competence and capabilities. After all, surviving the Holocaust and the obstacles and ordeals in the post-war years were not passive acts".

I looked to creative options for breaking long-term defensive silences and building trust, taking advantage of their cautious interest in the group.

In an effort to maintain interest and a progressive therapeutic milieu, I have introduced a variety of creative options for group members to explore their feelings and work with their memories. The introduction of the Collective Poem has been a major catalyst for members' self-esteem, self-expression, self-recognition and self-reconciliation. The Collective Poem is facilitated by a group leader, enabling a group to communally express feelings on a given topic, and create a finished poem. The leader takes notes or tapes the meeting, and then collates and edits verbatim sentences from the participants, piecing them together to form the final product. The members consider the finished poem at the beginning of the next meeting, and are encouraged to clarify, elaborate or change only their individual contribution, and the group as a whole evaluates the overall result, before giving final approval. While each member's story and experience is totally unique, the trauma and pain are shared by all. So is the satisfaction and pride with the finished poem. To date the group has 'written' over twenty poems, each one providing a catalyst for further discussion, as well as engendering a great deal of pride for group members.

In 1995 the first edition of the Poems was published, sharing their stark beauty and impact with the larger community. Group members, given the focus of an 'upcoming poem' organize their thoughts and input, and are more patient with each other in giving contributions. The process was definitely more cathartic and healing than the product. Now that an attractive and acclaimed Book does exist, the group has proudly shared it with family, friends and the general community. Issues and topics that were too difficult to discuss individually have been tackled with new commitment and determination, with a finished Poem as the motivator. An example :

My Pain

I cannot speak from my pain, because even now it is too much,
If we can't bear the pain, how can anyone else?
I think they haven't got time to listen to us.
Maybe they would listen, if we could speak.
Maybe we could speak, if they listened and it helped.
We should keep trying, but there is nothing for the pain.
We will carry it in our hearts until the end.
Our children and grandchildren should know these things,
But they should never know from the pain.

 

The survivor, in order to survive, must be cautious about interpersonal relationships, and building trust. It was imperative for this particular group, that it be allowed to evolve slowly and define its own growth. Very often the leader followed, and always their vulnerabilities were respected. Eventually group members were able to articulate their fears very clearly.

As social service professionals, we now have a better understanding of the havoc wreaked by traumatic stress. This combined with the vulnerabilities of isolationism, chronic illness, recurring losses and group living of the elderly can place an overwhelming burden on the survivor.

In an open-ended support group, individuals' stories are the decisive factor to provide a common understanding for the group members, and empathy for these stories is vital. It was with a great deal of pain and many tears that their stories slowly unfolded. The ability to 'understand' was carefully formulated and is constantly redefined.

Who Could Understand?

Even the North American Jews - they can't understand .....
Nobody can feel what we lived through.
They wouldn't understand because we ourselves can't understand.
We lived through everything we did and we don't know how.
We lived through everything and it hurts to talk about it.
I personally cannot understand how I went through it,
And I am still here.
How I survived.
It makes sense that people should understand.
But how can there by any sense out of Auschwitz?

 

To this day, new material is still surfacing, as it is slowly eased back into conscious memory or as it takes on new relevance within the context of the group discussion. Time and confidence however, allows new disclosures to be brought forth, always within the safety net of the group.

Their need to tell their stories is their defining theme for the group. Guttman discusses how,

"The present generation of Jewish elderly, particularly the 'old-old' (seventy-five years and older) constitute a 'missing generation' : We are speaking therefore of a generation that in a decade or two at most will be completely gone. And they will no longer serve as living witnesses to the horrors they have experienced - and survived. But today they can best be characterized as being vulnerable to many threats".

Group members are cognizant of this and repetition of their stories within the group is a strong bonding force and effects some comfort through shared grief.

Another focal point for the group is the annual Yom Hashoa Ceremony. Schindler et al speak of the

"Communal support through public holidays such as Yom Hashoa ..... For many persons these events enable the survivors to continue working through the mourning period process and enable bereavement to take place in a supportive framework".

Each year group members take over more responsibility for both the content and the presentation of the Ceremony, most recently reading their poems in both Yiddish and English. They look forward to rehearsals, ensure that as many places and people as possible will be included and recognized for the remembrance ceremony, and carefully prepare themselves both physically and emotionally. Following the most recent Ceremony they wrote:

Yom Hashoa - Holocaust Remembrance Day

The Ceremony was beautiful, it made me so proud that I was there.
I didn't think I could do it, I would shake too much and cry.
If I started to cry with all the people watching, my heart would roll away with my tears.
I don't cry at public affairs, only when I am alone at night and my memories push into my head.
I cried, but it was alright because I was with my friends and safe with the remembering.
When the Cantor said Kaddish, I thought of all my family - I was the only one left
- and I knew I had to stay standing.
When the children sang the songs from my family, in our language,
my tears were good tears,
Thank God for the children, they are the hope for why I survived.
It was very important that so many people came to remember, because everyone lost.
I lit my candle with fire from my heart, wondering how I am still here to do this,
I knew when I looked at all the people, I survived, so I could be strong
I didn't sleep that night, but I wanted to stay safe in my bed with my memories alone.
We want to thank everybody for Yom Hashoa, because only we know how important it is.
We are the Survivors.

 

Each year also includes an increasingly larger number of resident survivors lighting memorial candles. What historically was viewed as an emotional ordeal that residents felt obligated to participate in to pay tribute to the memories of their lost relatives, has changed its tone since the Survivors Group has become the core of the Ceremony. It is now a proud tribute both to their survival and the memories of their losses. It also includes the participation of children, with a very strong challenge from the group members, to carry on their legacy of memories.

A group viewing of Schindler's List at a local theatre was another catalyst in the development of the Group (David, 1994). I didn't know what the impact of visuals would be on such a vulnerable group. Several group sessions were devoted to deciding whether or not to go, and preparing for potential effects. Nightmares were not an issue - this group dealt with those on a regular basis. We discussed potential disappointments and frustrations should the film not be an honest or an accurate portrayal. This was not an issue - misrepresentation of the essence of their life stories was something they lived with on an ongoing basis.

After viewing the film, once again, I realized that so many of my protective concerns for this group were precisely my own - not related in any way to the reality the members experienced. They responded with an energetic strength that imbued the group with a new dynamic and direction. I had expected either a lively or contrarily a depressed discussion following the film, based on the memories it evoked. However, members were able to take the vignettes of the film and generalize issues that the film raised. For several meetings following, we discussed the emotional climate and the contributive factors in pre-war Germany, comparing them to today. We discussed racism and self-protectionism both on an abstract and then a very honest analysis of the different ethnic groups and cultures that inhabit the Terrace today

We are still talking about what individuals and small groups such as ours can do to promote positive change. Members bring newspapers to group meetings and we have composed letters to the editor responding to various articles. Students representing the various professional disciplines at the Terrace are welcomed at group meetings to hear 'first-hand' about the holocaust. The Group expanded its horizons beyond the previous limitations of the War and post-war experiences and came into the realm of abstract discussion and community self-examination. When the discussion becomes enriched and takes on new elements - so do the members.

The Group has taken on a new direction and a life of its own as time goes on. There is a vitality and strength amongst the members that was previously absent. They are spontaneous in their reactions, their input and their response to each other. They have developed a strong bond amongst themselves that carries them through some of their long nights, where they feel free to call on each other for support. There are still tears, and there are still meetings where the weight of oppressive memories is almost too great to carry, but the difference in the members' ability to do so is tangible. They speak spontaneously and react openly about their experiences, always supportively and with appreciation of the needs of others. This is not always the case in an elderly residential situation in general, but for this group in particular, it is a major accomplishment. The group, both collectively and individually can verbalize its losses and pain and are beginning to come to terms with the myriad pieces of it. They speak of this pain.

Does the Pain Ever Leave?

NO - I can't find peace inside myself, I always see torture
I suffer severe headaches but the pain inside doesn't show.
I crochet and count the stitches, listen to music but still I hurt.
Maybe if a person was very religious it would be easier.
I would like to believe that but not for this - I can't find peace.
Right from the beginning I was very empty.
After all these years I can make a quiet face - on the outside.
Fifty years and time does make the inside a little quieter.
Little by little a frozen heart can melt.
But there is always a piece of ice inside.

 

For a group that had great reservations about continuing initially, they are now looking to recruit new members from the residential population that to date has shown no interest in joining. They feel that once the others 'understand' they too will want to be a part of this group. While I have my reservations, I proudly recognize their new strengths and confidence as a group, and recall that they have proven me wrong before. We continue, at our regular meetings to wend our way carefully but purposefully down a path that has enriched and made all the participants a little stronger and prouder both of their personal resources and community resourcefulness. This path is rich in its history, sense of self, creativity, mutual support, reminiscence and direction. The Group has demonstrated not only to its leader, but to itself, how its survival is a triumph based on strength and not a function of pathology. The members helped me overcome my fears and tendencies to generalize and categorize their traumatic experiences. They helped me recognize their individual successes and coping mechanisms. This truly is not a group to be approached with trepidation, but one with the potential for great learning, growth and achievement for all concerned

The Group has taught me to recognize the self-determinism and ability to respond to adversity beyond imagination that are inherent to the Survivor. They have taught me to begin to understand both the incredible depths of the wells of strength to be found in humanity, and our potential to rise above our frailties. We have become a closely knit group, and I feel privileged to have been able to participate in the process. They allowed me to share in their Group, and to share in their remembering. In assessing the ongoing need for the group, one of their own poems provides the best answer.

 

A Survivors Group

We thought we would have the Group, but we wouldn't talk,
We only talk together, with each other, the ones who were there,
We talk very quietly upstairs,
And we cry quietly together.
We thought no-one else wants to know.
We thought no-one else can understand.
We don't try to understand - it hurts too much.
But we do understand each other
Now we can talk in this Group, and we didn't think it was possible.
You say other people want to listen and to learn from us.
You can understand, you can cry too.
Maybe others can also.
Maybe it could be different.
This would be the best thing for us.

 


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References


Cohen, Betty Brodsky, Holocaust Survivors and the Crisis of Aging, Families in Society, The Journal of Contemporary Human Services, V.72, no.4,pp226-232, 1991

David, Paula. Schindler's List: A Different Viewing, If Not Now, ed. S. Faerman, Vol. 1, No. 1, 1994

Giberovitch, Myra, Working with Survivors; Different Settings, Different Treatments. Paper Presented at an Institute on Working with Holocaust Survivors and Second Generation, pre-Conference of the World Conference of Jewish Communal Services, Jerusalem, 1994

Guttman, David, Meaningful Aging, Establishing a Club for Survivors of the Holocaust in Hungary, Journal des Viktor Frankl Intstitute, I, pp. 67-73, 1994

Schindler, R., Spiegel, C., Malachi, E., Silences: Helping Elderly Holocaust Victims Deal with the Past, International Journal of Aging and Human Development, Vol 35(4) pp.243-252, 1992

Venaki, S.K., Nadler, A., Gershoni, H., Sharing the Holocaust Experience: Communication Behaviours and their Consequences on Families of Ex-Partisans and Ex-Prisoners of Concentration Camps, Family Process, V.24, pp.273-280, June 198

Vuysje, Model for Integrated Psycho-Social Support of the Jews in the Netherlands, 1990, Paper Presented at an Institute on Working with Holocaust Survivors and Second Generation, pre-Conference of the World Conference of Jewish Communal Services, Jerusalem, 1994