Do schools promote ignorance of others?

Growing up, I always wanted a christmas tree. I always lied to friends that I celebrated both Hanukkah and christmas (I didn't, and still don't celebrate both [with my immediate family]). I choked up when people would ask me things about Judaism. Why? Really there's no other words than antisemitism.

Alright, so I'm being super dramatic but thats basically what I'm trying to get at here today, class. I never wanted to tell the truth because usually I would get people making fun of me. Sure I was happy to be jewish when I had to be. I had awesome friends from going to religious school that just completely understood what I was feeling. I had a bat mitzvah (where I got dat cash money) and became a woman so yea, I think my pubescent self was loving the title on that one. Whenever I went to school (it weirdly still happens today) people will make anti-semetic jokes or comments.

I am in no way trying to speak religion on my blog here, but keep on keeping on aka read.

Yesterday, I saw a holocaust survivor speak. I think we all know my appreciation for the study of WW2/Holocaust time period, so when I decided I could take a holocaust class this semester, we all knew I was going to be in there....like swimwear. Oddly enough, the speaker, whom we have to write a paper on for our final in this class, I've had the opportunity to see him speak before. I knew his story already; I read it, I heard it. Yet, still..there I was listening first row (again the only class I would ever care about sitting front row for a speaker for), leaving inspired and happy.

Happy you say, Rach? Um girl it was on the holocaust. You're right. I hate the topic more than anything. Watching survivors tell their stories gives me hope. Knowing the fact that I go to a shitty community college and saw so many people from different backgrounds listening and engaging gave me hope (except I sort of wanted to punch people who left mid presentation but thats just me being cray, you know?). It was refreshing (ok can't think of a better word here) to see people of different lifestyles, race, AND religion there- asking questions.

Personally, I was confused. Students asked questions about the living conditions while in a camp, about the bodies, the smell, the overall emotions...he laughed about it. The fact that he could just laugh it off as if his life was never almost near death was just amazing. After thinking through half his speech, I realized he had every right to laugh about it. He survived. He's the first hand account that stuff like this did happen. It was real. And he's here to educate the ones who couldn't believe anything (or person) in life could do such a horrid act. In yo face, hitler.

As I was there, nodding my head with what he was saying (even if I knew what he was saying or not), I smiled. I think there's something to be said that when people share similar traits or lifestyles, you just....get them. For me, I can relate to this because in high school when I was in my youth group it was the easiest of times for me to make friends. I found who I was there. I had a solid group of friends, AND they didn't judge me for eating not bread during a week in the spring (which I have to do next monday - jokes on me). When you feel comfortable with your surroundings, you are at the most confident place in your life.


Back to the survivor, I stayed after to get my book signed and get a picture. My professor, who is also jewish, said my name aloud for Fred to hear. He pronounced it in hebrew to reiterate. Then explain how Rachel was the main bad bitch ok not really but the name goes way back. I asked if we could take a picture and he said to me "of course with the pretty girl!". Ok, I could just be overanalyzing because yes I'm a girl but I didn't seem him do that with anyone else. We just connected. I said thanks again and was on my merry way to instagram the picture of us.

For all you educators out there I think you always reiterate how importance acceptance of one anthers religion is so important but for me what I don't get is why we go through all this education - learn history, how to treat others, yet we still find ourselves eaves dropping or maybe even being the ones that shoot ignorant jokes about others interests/backgrounds.

What do you think causes for people to poke fun? Unfamiliarity? Ignorance? 

Ramble sponsored by me, for me. YOLO. 

My happy place. Where's yours?

Last night I found myself searching through shelves and shelves of books. The dummy ones. At my favorite place ever. THE BOOK STORE. It actually baffles me how they have such silly ones, but hey they are pretty simple and quick enough to read skim. I was one of those people reading them.

When I was about to leave, I went to the fashion section to stage a nice little photo op. I'm not sure if staff saw me reorganizing books, but hey, not sorry about it. I went to pick up my phone and stage some instagram good-ness, but my phone died. So I left, and was basically pissed at my phone for failing me at THE WORST OF TIMES. A for effort, Sunshiney Rach.

I took notes and stress ate candy. Clearly.

Also found a book that I was confused about because I totally didn't give the okay to my publishers to make it go live? And the fact that they changed my name. How rude.

So then I stumbled across this bad boy in the infamous "Professional Blogging for Dummies"....

Must find out what type of hard drugs the 27.0 percent of people didn't get opportunities from their blog. Or maybe it's more like what were they doing wrong? What rock were they hiding under? Clearly Patricks or something because I don't think I'd go anywhere near there so okay, ultimately, you're right it makes sense.

But I'm part of the 73 percent. I've gotten SO many great opportunities from blogging:

1. Did you see yesterdays post? With the help of social media and companies with twitter accounts, I got a decent amount of views! I know it's not about that. Ever. But for this post, it was. My point was to make sure everyone read about it because its an important thing to teach others about. Just one of those thangs.

2. I won a twitter giveaway! Not sure how, but hell no am I complaining! Its a leather watch c/o Arvo! Can't wait to blog about it! Legit I'm a huge watch person, except I'm also that person that only buys 19.99 watches at Targé(t). Fancy shamncy.

3. I am now helping out at Sweet Lemon Magazine. Sweet Lemon is an online magazine directed towards the Gen Y-ers! Make sure to follow at (@SweetLemonMag) on instagram to see what I along with the others from the team post! Even from this, I am so excited to see what else comes my way!

4. Learning how to build my own blog, I can not only help others, but myself. You're thinking DUH RACHEL. No but really, I'm trying to create my own business. Bear with me here............

I couldn't have gotten this far without the opportunity I've gotten from blogging.

So hey you 27%? You're drunk. Leave....Peasants.

I also love saying peasants recently. 

What about you? What opportunities have you gotten from blogging?!

Enter love, in the cruelest of places

Cue Matisyahu's "One Day"and "Jerusalem". Basically if you've been on a trip to Israel (which since none of you are jewish bloggers....so I just look like a loon at this point), you know that this is all that plays once you arrive home. Cue this semester. I'm taking both a creative writing class AND a holocaust lit class. Greatest duo ever because those are the things I am passionate about the super most-est (deal with my incorrect grammar).

If you've ever been bored and searched through my super sweet archives, you'd know I posted about my trip to Poland (via March of the Living) Also you'd know I've posted about stupid things like chairs and stuff that made no sense. But that was a long time ago and is the exact reason philosophers determined that the past is in the past.

Right so like I said, I have both of those classes. And the best [or worst] part about them is that I have the same professor for both. It's probably a bad thing just because I suck up (UNINTENTIONALLY) so so hard. I can't help that I'm really passionate about learning of the holocaust and just want to write about it, and talk about it. Almost always.  For instance, I think he got mad because a holocaust survivor is coming to speak to our class mid-semester and I told him I've seen him speak before. Teacher 0 Rachel 1.

Clearly I love writing, or else I wouldn't be on here writing. It's the whole one thing leads to another and if it didn't exist then I wouldn't be here type scenario. So in my creative writing class our homework is to write a poem about different topics he gave us, and I instantly chose fear. The feelings of going through a gas chamber and crematorium [At Majdanek, a camp that could be up and running in 48 hours TODAY)were and still are so vivid in my mind.  The story behind my poem is that I was having really bad anxiety on my trip because I have really bad anxiety sometimes when I shower (a story for another time. But all you need to know is that my anxiety and the holocaust intertwine). During the trip in Poland, my anxiety was at an all time high. Walking through history was both exhilarating and petrifying. At our last concentration camp we were visiting, I was emotionally drained. I walked in and out of the gas chamber faster than a blink of an eye. I walked through it. They had boards on the floor but seeing the blue stains on the wall (from the Zyclone B) had my heart fall into my stomach and churn for the whole time. I seriously sprinted out of there and just bawled for ever.

After calming down with the help of my friend Noah (hey, remember him?), I decided to join the rest of the group and calm the heck down. The answer to all my problems? Holding hands with Trudy, the Holocaust survivor on our trip. We walked into a barrack that turned into an art visual type place. It was dark. Yet Trudy, with all her strength for even being able to go back on this trip each year, she told me to look through the window the size of a peanut, and she saw the light. I then felt a sense of strength come through to me. I was strong.

@Auschwitz-Birkenau

We eventually made our way through the camp to the crematorium. This is where things change for the worst/best. Worst because it was the most horrifying moment of my life but best because I've had the ability to use my writing skills to express how I felt during it. All in all, Noah held me by his side the whole time and I basically wanted to lose my shit. We walked in and I knew I wanted out STAT. I told him I had to leave, seeing the fire's they threw people in. We tried finding the exit, and it was a serious maze. I felt short of breath, hopeless, and down right scared. All we had to do was ask, and within a matter of seconds we were outtie. I cried forever after, as you can only imagine. The thing that scared me the most was that I, too, felt like I wouldn't be able to escape, and it was only for a moment.

Thank you for reading this, really. If you've scrolled on to the bottom anyway, thankies. 
I wanted to share with ya my poem, just because...and it goes a little something like this...(shameless aaron carter reference)

Escaped Survivors

Eerie silence tapped me on the shoulder
Easily scared, clenching to feel a lovers heartbeat

Emotional ashes were sprinkled around my nightmare
Emptiness.

Eventually I need to stop

Eager to escape

Could I get out?

Effects of fear filled the air.

Ever so slightly breathing, deep breathes and gasps
Exam the walls. The color, the smell.

Everything blowing in the wind, the history

Echo’s of the past, please no round two

Embarked on a journey with questionable endings
                                                                        Would I get out?

Enthusiastically hopeful, I was in a maze
Even he stayed courageous, I was safe by his side

Enter love in the cruelest of places
Enemies on Earth,
End.

@Majdanek....See me at the top right corner? Next to Noah in the black

If you have any questions, please feel free to reach out! I love talking about my trip!

That time I went to Poland.

*FYI: I will be posting less-than-pretty (graphic) pictures, if you don't read today's post. I totally understand* 

I've been meaning to blog this even before I became I legit blogger. Two years ago, I embarked on a journey called March of the Living. I am jewish, incase you were unaware! (I feel like there are ZERO jewish bloggers....!) March of the Living is a two week trip to Poland and Israel. I wanted to share with everyone my experience, because it's not everyday you walk up to a friend and say "Oh hey, just last week I was walking through a concentration camp in Poland. What's been up with you?" Weirdly enough, I could say that. Except, tears were 99.99% involved. I was able to walk where many of my distance ancestors once suffered. Even some of my friends great grandparents. Throughout my trip I had too many mixed emotions, but I wouldn't trade this trip for the world. The greatest part? You could go on it too. Jewish or not.

I don't want to bore you with writing, because as cliche as it is, pictures are worth a thousand bajillion and ten words. Feel free to continue to not read, or read on. Luckily for my trip, I was able to experience the hardest parts holding my best friends hands and even experience a survivor of Auschwitz's story...first hand. 

Here goes nothing:

Famous sign at Auschwitz. The "B" in Arbeit (first word) was switched by the prisoners, as a sign of rebellion. The phrase means "work will set you free", and sadly it did not.

Inside a barrack at Auschwitz. While there, my friend found pictures of documents of his great grandparents. 

The view outside the cellblock 10, where experiments among other things happened. 

One of my favorite pictures. The hands of a holocaust survivor (of Auschwitz) on my trip. Interested in her story? Watch videos here.

 Cattle car used to transport from Auschwitz to Auschwitz-Birkenau. 

A beautiful thing to see while leaving a terrible place. (@ Auschwitz-Birkenau)

Trudy telling her story in a barrack at Ausch-Birkenau. 

The actual march. We marched out of Auschwitz into Auschwitz-Birkeanu. 

Majdanek. A concentration camp right outside Warsaw that could be up and running in 48 hours today. 

My best friend (who I'm seeing in a few weeks) and I at Auschwitz-Birkeanu. Beyond thankful for a friend like him. 

Hey, thanks for sticking around. I didn't mean to put a damper on your day. SO SMILE. Just remember to be thankful for all that you have, everyday. And to remember that we should never forget. 

If you want to see more, email me. I love to talk about my experience with others and I am ever so thankful for my parents sending me on this life changing trip.

(the dead sea, israel)