Uncategorized
On display at Germany’s embassy in Israel: portraits of Holocaust survivors that seek to reclaim their stories
TEL AVIV (JTA) — The first time Gidon Lev encountered Holocaust denial was after becoming an unwitting TikTok star at the age of 86.
“I was totally shocked. How could this be?” he told the Jewish Telegraphic Agency about receiving dozens of comments accusing him of lying about the years in a Nazi concentration camp as a child.
“If only I was a liar,” he said. “Then I would have a father, grandparents, cousins, aunts, and uncles. I would have had a childhood.”
With half a million followers on the popular social media platform and 8.3 million likes, Lev says his message, of fighting hate and standing up for the oppressed, is a universal one. “The Holocaust is an example of just how cruel and horrible hate can get if you let it,” he said.
Now, his story is getting another showcase — on the walls of the German Embassy in Tel Aviv. Lev is one of 25 Holocaust survivors featured in a new exhibition titled Humans of the Holocaust set to open there on Wednesday, in a display timed to Yom Hashoah.
The Humans of the Holocaust exhibit at the German embassy in Tel Aviv. (Erez Kaganovitz)
“The significance of exhibiting on Israel’s Holocaust Memorial Day at the German embassy in sovereign Israel is not lost on me,” said Erez Kaganovitz, the photographer behind the Humans of the Holocaust project.
Kaganovitz, who is based in Tel Aviv, said he launched Humans of the Holocaust as an offshoot of his Humans of Tel Aviv photo project several years ago after one photograph in the series went viral. (Humans of Tel Aviv itself is inspired by the landmark Humans of New York project.) The photo portrays four forearms — those of Holocaust survivor Yosef Diament, his daughter and his grandchildren — all tattooed with the same number. Diament’s family tattooed his Auschwitz inmate number as a tribute to him. Kaganovitz was shocked when commenters asked why someone would tattoo a barcode on their arm.
Around that time, Kaganovitz, the grandson of survivors who worked as a journalist and in government before turning to photography, came across a survey highlighting ignorance among young people about the Holocaust. The survey, commissioned by the Claims Conference, found that 66% of American millennials did not know that Auschwitz was a Nazi death camp.
At first, he said, the survey angered him. But then he realized that by the time he was in his late teens, and after having Holocaust education hammered into him from a young age, he didn’t want to have any connection to the Holocaust either.
“I thought if I don’t connect with it, why would someone from Lexington, Kentucky, want to engage with it?”
Kaganovitz has joined a growing coterie of photographers seeking to change the paradigm of “dark and gloomy” Holocaust-related material, of black-and-white stills, of unfathomable despair, of numbers too large to comprehend.
“I wanted to tell human stories with a global message, with optimism. Something that people could engage with,” he said, while stressing that by doing so he is not trying to whitewash or downplay the Holocaust atrocities.
That mission resonated with the German embassy. “We need to find new ways to engage the public and especially the younger generation,” German Ambassador to Israel Steffen Seibert said in a statement about the exhibition, which is billed as digital storytelling for a digital age.
Left; Photographer Erez Kaganovitz at work on his Humans of the Holocaust project. (Courtesy of Erez Kaganovitz); Right: Portrait of Michael Sidko, the last survivor of the Babyn Yar massacre, surrounded by bullets. (Erez Kaganovitz)
The photos are intentionally arresting, aimed at piquing people’s curiosity enough to stop them scrolling their feeds. One example is a portrait of Michael Sidko, the last survivor of the Babyn Yar massacre, whose head, which appears to be dismembered, is embedded in thousands of bullet casings. The image, which took six months to stage because of the complexity involved, aims to raise awareness about the 2 million people exterminated in the Soviet Union and Ukraine, the so-called “Holocaust by bullets.” In the text accompanying it, a quote from Sidko reads: “The sights, sounds, and smell of gunpowder still haunt me to this day.”
Another photograph features Dugo Leitner, a survivor of Auschwitz-Birkenau, clutching a yellow-gold balloon in the shape of a Jewish star with the word “Jude” on it. Leitner’s expression, like the rest of the photo, is a jarring blend of whimsy and enervation.
The pose represents one of Leitner’s attempts at reclaiming his story — along with his growing movement to make eating falafel an act of survival. “I am taking ownership of the symbol that turned me into a subhuman and turning it into an optimistic and smiling creation,” he said.
Among the images of elderly survivors, some with yarmulkes and some without, is a portrait of a woman in a black hijab with Quranic verses behind her. Leila Jabarin was born Helene Berschatzki in a concentration camp in Hungary. At 15, after fleeing with her family to Israel, she fell in love with a Muslim Arab with whom she eventually married. Jabarin, who did not share her identity with her children until they were adults, rejects particularism in her message to the world. “Hatred knows no boundaries. Once I was persecuted for being a Jew; now people are after me for being a Muslim,” she told Kaganovitz.
Lev’s own portrait features the TikTok star in front of a wall with the words “we were all once refugees” graffitied on it, a remnant of a raging dispute surrounding African migrants in Israel. Lev became a refugee at 3 years old when Hitler occupied the Sudetenland. He recalls the moment that he was forced to abandon his new red tricycle as marking his transformation into a “human without a country.” After his release from the Theresienstadt concentration camp at age 10, Lev would become a refugee in New York and later in Toronto, Canada. In 1959, he emigrated to Israel, “the only country that would have me, not as a refugee, but as a bonafide citizen.”
About 147,000 Holocaust survivors currently live in Israel, according to data released this week. Their average age is 85, and about 15,000 survivors died over the past year — a pace that is prompting innovations around the world in how the Holocaust is memorialized and taught about.
Kaganovitz is careful not to “coerce” his own knowledge about the Holocaust onto his viewers, he said. Both in their online format and at the exhibition, the photographs are accompanied by a short text to provide context and links are shared for further reading.
“I just want to bring them to the table for now. When you’re fighting for attention alongside all these celebrities that get millions of views, you have to make your content interesting enough,” he said. “Because if we don’t, it’s only a matter of time before 90% [of youth] have never heard of Auschwitz.”
—
The post On display at Germany’s embassy in Israel: portraits of Holocaust survivors that seek to reclaim their stories appeared first on Jewish Telegraphic Agency.
Uncategorized
‘Text me when you get home’ — on confronting hatred as both a woman and a Jew
There’s a universal language that every young woman I know speaks. It’s an expectation, a pact even, to “text me when you get home.” A baseline understanding that the walk home isn’t always safe for us.
A different dialect of that same universal language exists across our Jewish community. It shows up when my mom texts me to ask, “does your shul have good enough security?” before I walk into Shabbat or high holiday services.
Being a Jewish woman in America means having to constantly do the calculus of how to be safe as a woman and as a Jew. And I know that my experience is not unique. With antisemitism rampant and other forms of hate still deeply embedded in our society, so many people across America with overlapping and intersecting identities — people of color, trans people and others — are also doing this calculus every single day.
The question I keep asking myself is why? Not why we have to do this constant mental exercise, but why it isn’t getting any easier. The FBI reported a decline in hate crimes in 2025, but those numbers don’t tell the whole story. Hate crimes often go unreported, whether because people don’t feel safe reporting to law enforcement or because agencies lack the training, resources and requirements to properly identify and document them. And beyond what gets counted, hateful rhetoric, threats, and violence continue to shape how we move through the world. Hate permeates our daily lives in ways that statistics alone cannot capture.
Turn on the news or scroll through Instagram on any given day and you can see why we don’t feel safer, despite what the data is telling us. You can see that the static noise of hate and violence continues to intrude on every aspect of our lives.
Our lives — across identities and generations — have been marked by hate, by story after story of deadly attacks at synagogues, mosques, churches, schools and supermarkets.
Twelve years ago, a man fueled by his hatred of women killed six and injured 14 people in Isla Vista, California — my hometown. When I think about that time in my life, I don’t think about graduating high school or my senior prom. I think about the flashes of images of my town, of the victims, on the news. And eight years ago today, a gunman took the lives of 11 congregants and wounded six others in an antisemitic attack at the Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh. It was the day before my 22nd birthday, another moment in my life now marked by grief.
Hate and hate-motivated violence are not new phenomena in our country. But in the last decade, we have seen a normalization of hate that is both new and devastatingly familiar.
We have seen this normalization fester online, where once fringe antisemitic, misogynistic, racist, and anti-immigrant beliefs — like those held by the Isla Vista and Tree of Life attackers — are now part of mainstream conversations. We have seen this normalization take hold in our halls of power, where our president, members of Congress, and leaders around the country not only legitimize but promote hateful rhetoric and conspiracy theories.
And, we have seen this normalization thrive in policy, where hate and violence are being systematized in executive orders and legislation by the same leaders who made it normal. Policy can and should be used as a shield to keep people safe. Instead, it’s being weaponized before our very eyes to foster an environment where hate can thrive.
It’s no wonder we don’t feel safe when our president and many of our lawmakers are using their power to target women, LGBTQ+ people, immigrants, and so many others. It’s no wonder we question whether our institutions will protect us when the Department of Justice cancels grants supporting victims and programs designed to prevent hate and violence. And it’s no wonder survivors of gender-based and sexual violence feel abandoned when this administration is deliberately refusing to use Title IX to protect them but is instead weakening this law to harm trans people.
For people my age, who grew up with social media and the 24-hour news cycle that brought reports of hate directly into our homes, it can be hard to fathom what to do at this moment. But there are people all around us who not only know what to do, but have done it before.
I spend my days at National Council of Jewish Women (NCJW) working to dismantle antisemitism and the hate plaguing all of our communities. I am fortunate to work with and learn from people who have dedicated their lives to building a world where every person can feel safe and thrive. We are fighting every day to ensure that our institutions and our laws protect people from hate, violence, and discrimination. NCJW has been doing this work for over a century, and we know that progress is not inevitable.
The Matthew Shepard and James Byrd Jr. Hate Crime Prevention Act, signed into law 17 years ago this week, was the result of nearly 20 years of advocacy — a reminder that disrupting hate and building a safer world requires perseverance. It takes leaders willing to fight against hatred, not embrace it. And, it takes partners, allies, friends, and neighbors to move the work forward together.
That is why we have no choice but to keep showing up, to keep fighting, even when the hate and violence all around us feels like it has taken over our lives. We have to keep working, every day, to build that world we seek, where our rights, our safety, and our dignity are not up for debate.
And hopefully, one day, we will all live in a world where we don’t have to say “text me when you get home.”
The post ‘Text me when you get home’ — on confronting hatred as both a woman and a Jew appeared first on The Forward.
Uncategorized
Seeking funding for a Yiddish project for kids or young people?
די פֿישמאַן-פֿונדאַציע פֿאַר ייִדישער קולטור האָט געמאָלדן אַז זי נעמט שוין אָן סובווענץ-אַפּליקאַציעס אויף נײַע פּראָיעקטן פֿאַרן יאָר 2027. די פּראָיעקטן דאַרפֿן האָבן פֿאַר אַ ציל דאָס שטאַרקן ייִדיש ווי אַ לעבעדיקע שפּראַך, באַזונדערס בײַ קינדער און דער יוגנט.
דער טערמין פֿאַר אַפּליקאַציעס פֿאַרן יאָר 2027 איז דער 7טער נאָוועמבער 2026. די אויסגעטיילטע סובווענצן וועט מען מעלדן אין דעצעמבער.
אַלע אַפּליקאַציעס מוזן זײַן אָנגעשריבן אויף ייִדיש און דאַרפֿן נאָכפֿאָלגן די אַפּליקיר-אָנווײַזונגען וואָס איר קענט געפֿינען דאָ.
אַפּליקאַציעס וועלן ווערן באַטראַכט אויף קאָנקורס-יסודות. מען בעט מען זאָל אַרײַנשיקן אַן אַפּליקאַציע (מיט אַלע נייטיקע בײַלייגונגען) דורך בליצפּאָסט צו:
applications@fishmanfoundation.org
The post Seeking funding for a Yiddish project for kids or young people? appeared first on The Forward.
Uncategorized
Democrats leader Golan approached by man with knife on Israeli election day
(JTA) — JERUSALEM — Israel Police arrested a man carrying a large knife after he approached Yair Golan, head of the Democrats party, as Golan was campaigning in Tel Aviv on Election Day.
“Contrary to reports, no stabbing attempt occurred,” the police spokesman said in a statement.
The police said officers at the scene noticed a “suspicious object” protruding from beneath the coat of a man standing nearby. When they stopped him for inspection, they found a knife in his possession.
In a statement, Golan’s party said the man approached Golan “in a threatening manner” and that “when Golan’s security guards blocked him, a large knife slipped from beneath his clothing and fell to the ground.”
Police described the suspect as a Jerusalem resident in his 20s. He was arrested and taken to a local police station for questioning. They said the investigation “is ongoing.”
Following the incident, Golan said “incitement and violence will not deter us.” In a statement to the press he blamed the attack on Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s negative campaigning and highlighted the ties between one of his spokespeople and Qatar.
“This is the direct result of the poison machine operated by Netanyahu and his Qatari agents. I call on everyone who cares about security and democracy to go out and vote now, so that we can ensure the country we love so dearly becomes a free and safe place once again,” Golan said.
This article originally appeared on JTA.org.
The post Democrats leader Golan approached by man with knife on Israeli election day appeared first on The Forward.
