One of my earliest memories is standing in Yad Vashem in Jerusalem at age 11, hearing how European Jews once believed that catastrophe could never touch them. They were successful, cultured, integrated—convinced that prosperity was protection. For me, the grandson of Holocaust survivors who lost more than 70 family members, that lesson was never theoretical.
I grew up in a home shaped by my mother, Penina Waga, born in a Polish Displaced Persons camp before immigrating to Israel, who taught not only what the Nazis did, but what Jews did and did not do in response.
Now, as an Israeli-American,...
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