The horrific story the Nazi concentation camps and the tattooing of prisoners was one of the reasons I started developing an interest in the stories behind tattoos. Here is a story from a fellow blogger. Hope she doesn't mind me borrowing it.
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Holocaust survivor Sam Sitko shows his tattoo from living in a concentration camp during an assembly at Whitwell Middle School in Whitwell, Tennessee.
Holocaust survivor Sam Sitko shows his tattoo from living in a concentration camp during an assembly at Whitwell Middle School in Whitwell, Tennessee.
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April 27, 2005
A few weeks ago a friend of mine told me a rather startling story. I started to wonder whether it was a "This could only happen in Israel" kind of story (of which I have heard and experienced many), or whether it reflected some kind of new movement of which I am unaware. I haven't been able to get it out of my mind since, and so I thought you all might want to hear it too. I am still trying to formulate my own thoughts about it, so I welcome your insights and opinions as well. So this friend of mine was hanging out at a pub in downtown Be'er Sheva with some other friends. As he approached the counter to order his drink, he noticed that the young bartender, a student dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, had a short row of numbers tattooed on his arm. Given that the guy was a good fifty years too young to be a Holocaust survivor, my friend's curiosity got the better of him and he asked what the tattoo was. The young man answered, "Exactly what you think it is." My friend couldn't stop there, and pressed him further. The man replied that his grandmother survived Hitler's camps and was now nearing her end. She had given her grandson her blessing to tattoo onto his arm a likeness of the very same numbers she had on her own. My friend, in recounting this story to me, remarked that he was quite moved by the gesture.
I must admit that at first I was quite taken aback. Quickly, however, my shock turned into appreciation and not a small amount of admiration. I have spent most of my academic life studying the Holocaust from political, psychological, and personal perspectives, and this is the first time I can remember that I have come across a truly original idea in the domain of Holocaust memorialization. With what amounts to probably twenty minutes in a tattoo artist's chair and the marking of a 1-inch by 3-inch area of skin, this young man has managed to both honor his grandmother and her experience, as well as send a rather striking societal message. Indeed, whether the people around him are respectful of or appalled by his choice, there is no doubt that he causes at least a hundred people a day to think about the Holocaust, if only for a moment.
My friend was most impressed by how the young man's action represents a kind of "taking back" of the image of the tattoo and the victim experience. In much the same way as African Americans have reclaimed and empowered the term "nigger" by using it amongst themselves, there is something powerful and honorable about taking a tattoo that was forced upon his grandmother without her consent and purposefully choosing to place it upon himself with her blessing.
The fact that Jews still exist in the world is proof that Hitler didn't succeed, and many say that simply living an honorable life can be our own revenge. This young bartender has taken this a step further. His existence would not have been possible without his grandmother's survival, but in thirty years when her life is a distant memory, his simply being alive won't be enough to memorialize her. Perhaps these numbers on his arm will be.
Indeed, one of my biggest fears regards the landscape of our global society in thirty or forty years. What will Holocaust education and memory be like when the last survivor has left us? I fear this period deeply, and I will weep the moment when our world will be deprived of the brilliance and strength of spirit and beauty and insight that Holocaust survivors bring to us.
When the Holocaust exists only in history textbooks and museums, this young man will have and show a personal connection that won't be attainable in any other way. In the summer, when he will roll up his sleeves and have no choice but to show his tattoo, he will make people think and feel and react in a way that no one else will be able to do.
So I have informally polled a great deal of people already, and received greatly mixed reviews. People over the age of 60 have tended to be enthusiastically in favor of the young man's choice, while those between the ages of 35-55 have generally been vehemently against it. Responses from individuals in my own generation have been fairly equally split. I'm still not totally sure how I feel about it, but I'm inclined to believe that anything that can evoke such strong emotion, on both sides of the spectrum, is worthy of deeper investigation. In any case, that young bartender in Be'er Sheva has certainly made a lot of us think.
My friend also posted an article about this experience at www.israelity.com, and he has a blog at www.arimiller.blogspot.com.
Views expressed by the author do not necessarily reflect those of israelinsider.
http://web.israelinsider.com/Views/5411.htm
A few weeks ago a friend of mine told me a rather startling story. I started to wonder whether it was a "This could only happen in Israel" kind of story (of which I have heard and experienced many), or whether it reflected some kind of new movement of which I am unaware. I haven't been able to get it out of my mind since, and so I thought you all might want to hear it too. I am still trying to formulate my own thoughts about it, so I welcome your insights and opinions as well. So this friend of mine was hanging out at a pub in downtown Be'er Sheva with some other friends. As he approached the counter to order his drink, he noticed that the young bartender, a student dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, had a short row of numbers tattooed on his arm. Given that the guy was a good fifty years too young to be a Holocaust survivor, my friend's curiosity got the better of him and he asked what the tattoo was. The young man answered, "Exactly what you think it is." My friend couldn't stop there, and pressed him further. The man replied that his grandmother survived Hitler's camps and was now nearing her end. She had given her grandson her blessing to tattoo onto his arm a likeness of the very same numbers she had on her own. My friend, in recounting this story to me, remarked that he was quite moved by the gesture.
I must admit that at first I was quite taken aback. Quickly, however, my shock turned into appreciation and not a small amount of admiration. I have spent most of my academic life studying the Holocaust from political, psychological, and personal perspectives, and this is the first time I can remember that I have come across a truly original idea in the domain of Holocaust memorialization. With what amounts to probably twenty minutes in a tattoo artist's chair and the marking of a 1-inch by 3-inch area of skin, this young man has managed to both honor his grandmother and her experience, as well as send a rather striking societal message. Indeed, whether the people around him are respectful of or appalled by his choice, there is no doubt that he causes at least a hundred people a day to think about the Holocaust, if only for a moment.
My friend was most impressed by how the young man's action represents a kind of "taking back" of the image of the tattoo and the victim experience. In much the same way as African Americans have reclaimed and empowered the term "nigger" by using it amongst themselves, there is something powerful and honorable about taking a tattoo that was forced upon his grandmother without her consent and purposefully choosing to place it upon himself with her blessing.
The fact that Jews still exist in the world is proof that Hitler didn't succeed, and many say that simply living an honorable life can be our own revenge. This young bartender has taken this a step further. His existence would not have been possible without his grandmother's survival, but in thirty years when her life is a distant memory, his simply being alive won't be enough to memorialize her. Perhaps these numbers on his arm will be.
Indeed, one of my biggest fears regards the landscape of our global society in thirty or forty years. What will Holocaust education and memory be like when the last survivor has left us? I fear this period deeply, and I will weep the moment when our world will be deprived of the brilliance and strength of spirit and beauty and insight that Holocaust survivors bring to us.
When the Holocaust exists only in history textbooks and museums, this young man will have and show a personal connection that won't be attainable in any other way. In the summer, when he will roll up his sleeves and have no choice but to show his tattoo, he will make people think and feel and react in a way that no one else will be able to do.
So I have informally polled a great deal of people already, and received greatly mixed reviews. People over the age of 60 have tended to be enthusiastically in favor of the young man's choice, while those between the ages of 35-55 have generally been vehemently against it. Responses from individuals in my own generation have been fairly equally split. I'm still not totally sure how I feel about it, but I'm inclined to believe that anything that can evoke such strong emotion, on both sides of the spectrum, is worthy of deeper investigation. In any case, that young bartender in Be'er Sheva has certainly made a lot of us think.
My friend also posted an article about this experience at www.israelity.com, and he has a blog at www.arimiller.blogspot.com.
Views expressed by the author do not necessarily reflect those of israelinsider.
http://web.israelinsider.com/Views/5411.htm
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