Before leaving for the Poland trip, my mom texted me and asked if I was excited. I replied with “not really. I get it’s going to be a good experience, but it’s a cold, and dark, and sad trip.” I expected a week full of tears and sorrow and sadness. I was totally wrong. Yes, of course there were dark nights, and chilly days, and lots and lots of tears, but it wasn’t full of that. Of course of learned about the Holocaust and all of the horrors that came with it, but we also learned about thriving Jewish life before the Holocaust. We saw what religious freedom in Poland looked like pre-1930’s, we saw Yiddish culture, and shtetls, and synagogues. Before Poland, I never truly took a step back and thought to myself what were people’s lives were like for hundreds of years in the Ashkenazi world. I only thought about death and destruction, not about culture and flourishment. Being in Poland, I thought about what my ancestors’ lives must have been like and what traditions they practiced that I still practice thousands of miles away in America today.

One of the most powerful moments of Poland for me was going to Friday night services in the Ramah shul in Krakow, Poland. After a week of learning how a huge thriving community was stripped of their religion, possessions, and humanity, it left me feeling such despair. Stepping into the Ramah shul, I immediately felt a warmth. Knowing that the Nazis didn’t want any more Friday night services, I felt pride to be singing my heart out to the familiar ninguns and hymns. Singing life back into a synagogue in Poland was one of the most important things I will ever do in my life. In this synagogue, I met an older lady who was delighted to see so many young faces praying in a shul. I spoke with her almost the entire time we were there about the basic concepts of Judaism and her view on the world. I felt so honored to have the privilege of learning from a woman with a lot of experience in this world. In the Ramah shul, I felt as if I connected with both Polish Jewry and with another generation of Jewish life. Being in a Jewish community, in Poland, singing Shabbat songs gave me hope for Polish Jewry for the future.

Going to Poland helped me connect with my Jewish identity and roots more than any other experience I’ve ever had in my life. I am a teenager and am still trying to figure out who I am and what my purpose is in this world, but Poland gave me so much clarity about that. My friends are all back home studying math that they will never use again, or cheating on a Spanish test just to get a good mark. I went to Poland to learn about real world problems and history, and see how I can take action in my community today. Nothing will ever compare to that.

Singing off this week from Modi’in, Israel,

Ari Weiner