Helping to Shape the Culture of Remembrance

Imabe above: A commemoration of the GDR with Waldorf students from Potsdam in the fall of 2025 at Luisenplatz in Potsdam. Since November 2020, a monument created by Potsdam artist Mikos Meininger stands on the square to commemorate the largest demonstration during the Peaceful Revolution in the GDR, which took place in Potsdam on November 4, 1989.

Imabe below: Recitation by the 12th-grade class of the Waldorf School in Potsdam: Ihr Zuschauenden by Nelly Sachs, performed on Holocaust Remembrance Day at the Thalia Cinema in Potsdam-Babelsberg.

Das Wiegala has faded away—a composition by the German-language writer Ilse Weber, who lived from 1903 to 1944. With this lullaby, she comforted Jewish children in the pediatric ward at Theresienstadt; later, according to accounts, she accompanied them—singing once again—into the gas chambers at Auschwitz. All of them were murdered.

Twelfth-grader Johan had selected this piece, among others, for the City of Potsdam’s Holocaust memorial ceremony and performed it as a clarinet-cello duo with Nanouk from eleventh grade. It accompanied the recitation of Nelly Sachs’s poem Ihr Zuschauenden (You Who Are Watching) from 1944/45, which deals with the gazes of those who perished in the Holocaust: Unsung lullabies form a counterpoint in this metaphor-rich poem. It was performed by our twelfth grade class. Additional short musical pieces from Jewish contexts structured the individual parts of the commemoration and invited the audience to deepen their reflection.

How can one approach «Auschwitz» as a symbol of the rupture in civilization perpetrated by the Germans? Poetry and music can serve as tools for this. Between these presentations at the city’s commemoration of the liberation of Auschwitz on January 27, 1945, Potsdam Mayor Noosha Aubel spoke. In addition, a film featuring two eyewitnesses in conversation with students was shown, and a small panel discussion explored why and how we remember.

Why remember?

When young people in Germany are asked what they know about Nazism or concentration camps, a widespread lack of knowledge is consistently evident. Educational institutions should and want to change this, and education policymakers are discussing mandatory visits to memorial sites. In these times of Trump, Putin, and Orbán, don’t we need knowledge of fascist forms of rule more than ever to defend ourselves against them and preserve our democracy?

Yes, that’s all true—we would need it. But is testable knowledge enough for that—or shouldn’t the whole person be more deeply involved? The Beutelsbach Consensus, with its principles for political education, prohibits emotional overwhelm. So that can’t be it. But when you stand in Auschwitz and see the sheer scale of the barracks’ floor plans, walk past the ruins on your own two feet, and leaf through the lists of the murdered yourself, you grasp the reality of that time more fully. Through sensory perception involving the whole body, your own memory of visiting the historic site can be incorporated and, together with historical sources, lead to a deeper understanding.

Framing with artistic flair and dignity

History lessons can educate and thus keep memories alive. One feels powerless in the face of the death toll, and perhaps also in the face of guilt. The fact that we, as later generations, are not the perpetrators offers little comfort. Young people confronted with a history of violence might ask themselves: What can I do? One answer may be to keep the memory alive.

But how? The act of remembrance requires a form. When historical commemoration degenerates into a ritualized «wreath-laying» ceremony with solemn faces, it does not invite anyone to truly engage with those moments in history that are worthy of remembrance. The arts of time, such as music or poetry, offer ways to escape the hustle and bustle of everyday life and open oneself up to what is often a painful process of reflection. In her poem, Sachs (1891–1971) adopts the perspective of those who were killed. As we listen, a sense of understanding can emerge on an emotional level through resonance that also reaches the heart. In the movie theater, our young people created a new act of remembrance for themselves—not «memorial theater», as sociologist and professor Y. Michal Bodemann termed German remembrance culture in relation to Holocaust commemoration in the form of ritualized performances, but a social act that continues into discussions within their own communities.

Understanding History – No Exam

Intensive rehearsals in a choral group or musical duo engage the realm of the will. The young people’s self-directed participation opens up an unfamiliar way for them to engage with history. They are not studying for an exam, but voluntarily participating in a celebration organized by their city, because Potsdam has decided to commemorate important historical events together with committed citizens. Our students live up to their membership in the School Without Racism – School with Courage network (which we joined in 2008). They also experience a sense of self-efficacy. Conversely, the local culture of remembrance benefits from the fact that the desired annual ritual is brought to life by young citizens.

Commemorating the peaceful revolution: Family history instead of worksheets

Another commemoration marked November 4, 1989. Five days before the fall of the Berlin Wall, Potsdam’s largest demonstration took place in the city center: Approximately 100,000 citizens had demanded «Free elections—real numbers», «End the paternalism», «Send the Stasi to work in factories», and «Visa-free travel to Hawaii».

After interviewing a contemporary witness, we were able to get a sense of the demonstrators’ courage—since military trucks had already been stationed in side streets, ready to transport them away. The eleventh-graders considered which of their (human) rights were currently being curtailed and formulated demands for politicians, which they wrote on white sails. These were hung up for a week in the historic square—and, contrary to expectations, remained undamaged, even though some were worded very critically. An example: «Today’s youth is so sensitive: COVID-19, lost learning, no therapy spots, the climate crisis, war in Europe, high new debt, and now mandatory service too?? Sensitive—really now???»

Out of school, into the city

At Potsdam City Hall, a historian is responsible for urban remembrance. He invited the young people to get involved and supported the implementation of their ideas by using city funds to pay for the necessary materials and the work of my art colleague. In this way, the young people became part of the local historical culture. Along the way, eyewitnesses and city dignitaries took notice of our students—and vice versa: In the evaluation, many eleventh graders expressed surprise that they could raise their voices and send messages whose clarity they had spent so much time refining. That even something small could spark interest, that «politics» wasn’t so unreachably far away after all. And that they felt heard: After all, photos and selfies featuring slogans and the mayor ended up on her Instagram account.

History up close

The historical site plays an important role: it shows us what happened there in the past, right where we are standing. A key example are the Stumbling Blocks, which serve as memorials to the deportations that took place during the Nazi era.

If you look around a bit, you can find historical connections in the immediate vicinity of almost every school. Archives are usually happy to support local research projects. You might consider whether you want to focus your research on victims or, at times, on perpetrators. Or you could explore lesser-known topics, such as the colonial era, the history of migration, or everyday life.

When parents—and perhaps even grandparents—are able to attend commemorative events, it naturally leads to intergenerational conversations about the past. Asking questions about one’s own family history fosters a deeper understanding of history.

Another side effect: While ill-informed critics of Waldorf education accuse it of having ties to right-wing, anti-democratic movements, we, on the contrary, demonstrate our in-depth engagement with Nazism and other dictatorships.