Intergenerational Trauma And The Holocaust

“What if something happens and you never come home, Em?” I hear my mother’s voice in my head as I pack for a trip to New York. I can feel the knot in my stomach move up to my throat and suddenly, I’m nauseous. I go to the bathroom and vomit. This isn’t the first time...

Remembering A Beloved German Jewish Newspaper

I remember sitting on the floor in my bedroom, listening to 45s after coming home from school. “Billy Don’t Be a Hero,” “Hooked on a Feeling,” or even “Africa,” turned up as loudly as I could without Mutti or Vati storming in, telling me to ‘turn down that awful...

The Face of Intergenerational Trauma

Three years ago today, I spent the day in bed, alternately crying and sleeping. I didn’t want to go anywhere, see anyone, or do anything. My mother had passed away two weeks before, right before Christmas, and I was on the verge of depression. While you might read...