We’re making Whoopi

I found Whoopi Goldberg’s recent comments about the Holocaust both ignorant and offensive, and in that, I am certainly not alone. However, that says a lot about both of us and our different perspectives. So maybe there is something to be learned on both sides.

I believe Goldberg honestly shared what she thought. It was her opinion. After substantial pushback and some time to absorb the response, she offered a sincere apology. It seems that she learned from that experience. Unfortunately, for those of us seeking to cancel her or supporting ABC’s gratuitous “time out” as with ill-mannered children, we squander an opportunity to learn from her about her perspective. Her view does not pose a threat, and it was not a voice of hatred. But it is rightly rejected. However, I would be interested in hearing more. Her comment on the Stephen Colbert show,  “I thought it was a salient discussion because as a Black person, I think of race as being something that I can see,” offers an interesting perspective on a deeply personal subject to the Jewish community. I doubt I would agree, but I am sure I would learn something from her.

I am looking forward to her conversation with Jonathan Greenblatt from the ADL.

Let’s get Whoopi Goldberg back on the air and walk forward together.

 

The School Maus Ban

With Maus, the McMinn County Tennessee school board has highlighted issues beyond Anti-Semitism.

With the extraordinary rise in documented Anti-semitism, we rightly are sensitive to it. However, if we merely write off the TN School board as Anti-Semites, we miss some crucial things worthy of discussion. We must ask a fundamental question: Is this a matter of teaching about the Holocaust, or is this the right book to do so? Let us set aside the charge of anti-semitism and consider other reasons why Maus would be banned.

Let me give two examples from my own Jewish experience to help frame the matter:

I have regularly seen people ushering children from the sanctuary before the Yizkor liturgy in our services. And often, well-intended adults keep their children from funerals and unveilings.

The rationale common to these is that the adults thought it best for the welfare of the children to shield them from issues surrounding death. They deemed such experiences as emotionally unhealthy. Perhaps the people of Tennessee thought similarly.

Maus is an explicit graphic novel. The author, Art Spiegelman, does not hold back from exposing the horrors of the Holocaust. The scenes are brutal and sear themselves into the mind’s eye. Once seen, it is impossible to un-see it. Arguably, that was part of Maus’ intended purpose. Maus has been a challenging and controversial book on almost every level.   Bringing it to children should be careful, deliberate, and age-appropriate.

Parents try to shield their children, to protect them from the world’s harshness. The question for us to consider is whether such an approach serves a purpose?

Arguably, exposing our children to the world’s harsh realities is essential in helping them develop their understanding of the world in which we are preparing them to live.

We must also consider children’s developmental issues. We know that both the way we present materials to children and their capacity to absorb the lessons are critical components. Balancing these two is delicate, but ignoring them risks doing more harm to the psyche than good.

I understand the desire to protect children, particularly from the gruesomeness of evil. And the Holocaust is unspeakably, unimaginably evil. But if we pretend the horror did not happen, or if we sanitize it, erasing the brutality, we have likely made the case against evil no more compelling than the choice of school lunch.

We need to be vigilant in the fight against anti-semitism, and it would not be surprising to learn that anti-semitism motivated some people in the discussion surrounding Maus. But even with that, we cannot turn away from the critical conversation about what we teach our children, not as facts, but as values and how we do it without inflicting harm or destroying the humanity we are trying to nurture.

A Prayer for our Nation

As we reflect on the events marked today, the first anniversary of the January 6 insurrection at the Capitol, a prayer for our country seems appropriate.  There are no better words than those spoken by Abraham Lincoln on November 19, 1863, at Gettysburg.  In that place, Union forces defeated the Confederacy repelling an invasion of the North and marking a turning point in the Civil War.

“Fourscore and seven years ago our fathers brought forth, on this continent, a new nation, conceived in liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal. Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived, and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting-place for those who here gave their lives, that that nation might live.

It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.

But, in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate, we cannot consecrate—we cannot hallow—this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it far above our poor power to add or detract.

The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here.

It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us—that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they here gave the last full measure of devotion—that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain—that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom, and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.”