Why Preserving Your Family’s Holocaust Story is a Form of Resistance
How sharing the past protects our future
Gerald Szames Tells His Story (USC Shoah Foundation)
As the granddaughter of a Holocaust survivor, sharing my family’s story has never been easy. Although it is not something I experienced firsthand, it still feels extremely difficult to listen to, and even harder to share. Not only is there a lot of weight in the story itself, but every Holocaust story is an active act of defiance against denial and forgetting.
Sometimes, it feels easier to stay quiet. To avoid the ache. To let the past rest. But, in a time like now where Holocaust survivors are aging, it is now more important than ever to make sure their stories do not die with them.
Every story we choose to tell is an act of defiance. A refusal to let deniers and distorters write the ending. A way to say: we remember, we are still here.
Silence as a Weapon
The Nazis didn’t just murder six million Jews, they also tried to erase them. Even in the final moments, when the Soviets were approaching Auschwitz, the Nazis burned records and tried to blow up gas chambers. They knew what they did was a crime against humanity, and they wanted to erase the evidence.
After liberation, that silence continued in other forms. Holocaust survivor Andy Réti once told me: “There are two kinds of survivors: those who can’t stop talking about the Holocaust, and those who can’t start.”
Some survivors have carried the weight silently, not wanting to pass it down to their children. Yet, as descendants, we can try to open the door, as reclaiming these stories undoes the silence that was forced upon them.
Memory is Power
When we share stories, say their names, recount the details, and pass on the memories, we resist.
Not only does it humanize the statistics, but it also makes sure that it cannot be forgotten.
When I heard my grandfather’s story for the first time, a detail that stuck with me was that he had a soccer ball in the concentration camp. He recalled a time he kicked it away, and to his surprise, a Nazi soldier came down from his guard tower, and brought it back.
That moment stayed with me because it reminded me that my grandfather was once a child who loved to play, and that even a Nazi soldier, whom I imagined as pure evil, showed a moment of complexity. It made everything more real.
Sometimes the things that stay with us are the small moments, ones that show complexity or humanity.
It could be a recipe passed down, or an old lullaby sung in Yiddish. Even the suitcase a grandmother packed, carefully choosing a spoon, a dress, a photograph – believing she was going somewhere she might need them.
In Holocaust museums around the world, everyday objects like shoes, clothing, and cutlery are displayed not for their rarity, but because they reveal humanity.
These were ordinary people, forced into extraordinary horror, bringing with them the pieces of life they thought they would need.
As descendants, it is our duty to remember. As Elie Wiesel once said, “If we forget, the dead will be killed a second time, and then they are today’s victims.” Even the “insignificant” details tell entire worlds of stories, and there’s a beautiful power to that.
Strengthening Identity
Knowing my family’s story as a descendant of a Holocaust survivor has changed how I see myself. It doesn’t just connect me to history but also to resilience. It reminds me that being Jewish isn’t just about surviving pain. It’s about surviving with purpose, with pride, and most of all with a sense of community that refuses to break. Too often, the narrative ends with. trauma. But our stories don’t stop there.
They are about rebuilding, too.
They are about who we became after.
And when we tell them, we don’t just carry pain but also strength, culture, language, humor, music, memory. And all of that shapes who we are today.
Maybe you’re not sure where to begin. Maybe no one in your family has ever talked about it.
Start small, ask just one question.
Write it down.
Keep it safe.
Because every memory we share pushes back against the forces that tried to erase us, every story told is a victory.
