Why January 27th Matters

Why January 27th matters

On Sunday, January 27th, 1946, my paternal grandparents got married. Born and raised in Montreal, they grew up in post-World War 1 Canada, with the highs of the early 1920’s and lows of the Depression in the 1930’s. My grandfather served in the military during World War 2, as a member of the Canadian Air Force to protect the coast of Newfoundland.

My grandparents shared many stories with me about life in Canada during World War 2, a little about their courtship and some details about their wedding on January 27th, 1946. They were married mere months after the end of the war, when the world was recovering from such devastation.

I never asked my grandparents why they chose that specific date for their wedding. January 27th, 1946, was the one-year anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz, the Nazi death camp in Europe. In 1946, commemoration, memorialization, reflection for many, about the atrocities in Europe, wasn’t, for the most part, done.

For my grandparents, January 27th, 1946 must have been a joyous day, with family, friends, music, dancing and celebration. The war was over and the future was bright for them, in their tight-knit community in Montreal.

Seventy-nine years later, my grandparents are no longer alive, but I quietly celebrate them every January 27th. What they had was true love. I remember how my grandfather (we called him Poppy) always looked so lovingly at my grandmother (we called her Nanny). For my family, January 27th is special.

But, also in my head is January 27th, 1945. That was the day when Soviet forces liberated the Auschwitz death camp. Over 1.1 million people were murdered there, most (but not all) of them, Jews. Some people may feel that liberation is a reason to celebrate. Because the death camp was liberated, does it mean the people there were free? Did they feel they had a future? Were they excited about going home, or building a new life?

For those who survived after the Auschwitz liberation, it took many years for many of them to settle in a new home. While maybe January 27th, 1945, was the start of their liberation, one year later, most of the survivors were still struggling to survive. Communities in Montreal, Canada were far away.

Is it fair of me to even ask, did my grandparents know? When they set their wedding date, did they know it was on the first anniversary of the liberation of what may be the most infamous of the Nazi death camps? Did they understand, in 1946, what happened to the Jews of Europe? Why does it matter what date they got married?

I’ve been asking myself these questions over the last 24 hours, as world leaders, educators, historians, and even some survivors, gathered together on January 27th, 2025, at Auschwitz, to commemorate the 80thanniversary of the death camp’s liberation. I have been poring through many news articles, from journalists pointing out hypocrisy to offering history lessons to stories of survival and renewal.

The thread across everything I read is: we must remember. We must talk. We must educate and share and learn and listen. January 27th matters. Eighty years after the liberation, with so few people left to tell us what they experienced, we need to keep their stories alive. It is horrific to think that at one death camp, over 1.1 million people were brutally murdered. When it was liberated, on January 27th, 1945, it is estimated that about 7,000 were found alive.

These are people, with names, families, and stories. Yesterday I read about Tova Friedman, who sees the liberation day as her birthday. Leon Weintraub spoke of still seeing the Nazi symbol in Europe today and how important it is to never let this kind of murder happen again. Learn about George Reinitz or Miriam Ziegler.  Listen to 96-year-old Howard Chandler.

I have visited Auschwitz. I joined thousands of teenagers, when I was just 15 years old, on Holocaust Remembrance Day, as we walked between the labour and death camps of the massive complex. I walked under the gate that stated, “Work makes you free.” I saw huge mounds of hair, shoes, clothes, passports and more. I sat with survivors who told me their stories.

When I stood at Auschwitz, so many years ago, and I hugged survivors and cried with my friends, I remember thinking about my grandparents. I remember thinking how lucky they were to be born in Canada, that they didn’t have to experience this horror. I also remember thinking that I could never forget how I felt that day.  

January 27th matters. Maybe it is a day of celebration. Maybe the people liberated in 1945 didn’t know it at the time, but for many it was the start of a new life for them. One year later, on January 27th, 1946, it was also the start of a new life for my grandparents. For all those no longer with us to tell their story, may their memory be for a blessing.

 

 

People first, enabled by technology

Earlier this week I caught up with a former colleague, who had left the corporate world and started his own business. It was great to see him again, and our conversation was warm and friendly. While we discussed his new, and growing business, the journalist in me asked him directly, what do you do? It’s not that the services he offers aren’t interesting, I wanted to get to the heart of why he’s doing what he is doing and the impact he hopes for.

What he shared didn’t surprise me at all. His business is about people. He and his business partners are focused on helping people. They recognized that technology is changing, our reliance on it is growing, often exponentially, but people’s grasp of that technology or their embrace of it, is much slower.

As I listened to him, I started to think that as technology plays a larger role in our lives, that we can’t discount the importance of people and our desire to connect and lean on each other.

I admit that while I, like most of us, heavily rely on technology, I still have so much to learn about how to use it. For example, I have only scratched the surface of AI and how it can help me, as a writer, or how to produce simple videos, and so much more! I have played around with social media and actively use it, but I’m not an expert.

There’s automation, apps, software, hardware, programming, development and so much more related to technology. It’s everywhere, and savvy people have found ways to harness its power. I’m committed to learning more about how technology will help me, both personally and professionally.

But technology alone is not enough. Not only that, I have observed that as we lean more on technology tools, from our smart phones and tablets to AI and social media, many of us crave the human touch. We don’t want to become automatons, and we don’t want to stare at a screen all day.

The art of what human beings can achieve is not just lingering, it’s as strong as ever. Live theatre, for example, whether it’s Broadway or a small community production, is thriving. Swifties of the world don’t just want to listen to their music on iTunes – they want to see Taylor Swift, live. Baseball stadiums or hockey arenas are packed. We pay good money to be in person, to watch the best of the best perform.

Plays, concerts and sports have been around for a long time, and they bring us together, as people. The “show” that we watch, live, in front of our eyes, is now enabled by technology, but what brings us there is the experience.

Have you read a good book lately? No doubt, I could easily use ChatGPT or another AI tool, put in a query, and moments later it can give me a book. It will be written well, clean grammar, maybe even some interesting parts. But it’s not personal. It was not written by me. It may not tell the story I want people to know.

When a writer tells a story, they hope for a visceral reaction from the reader. A great story pulls at our emotions. It’s an art, and it’s something deeply human. Technology has enabled writers to be more efficient – a computer is quicker than the typewriter was. AI tools can help enhance a story, and spellcheck? I mean really, many of us love that it catches so many errors!

Back to what my former colleague shared with me about his focus on people. His clients, who are businesses of all sizes, are purchasing tools or products from other businesses. Their learning curve, to implement and use the technology, is often steep. The clients seek out the human touch, to teach and guide them and empower their employees to feel confident in the technology.

While technology, in all its forms – the car, machinery in factories, the washing machine, computers, cell phones, and more – will continue to change our lives, what won’t change are our human connections and desire for them. There are some careers or jobs that don’t exist at all anymore, but others have evolved. I believe that professions that help bring people together, will always be part of our society – a restauranteur, musicians, artists, athletes, and yes even writers.

And don’t discount nurses, dentists, doctors or lawyers. Technology has enabled us to benefit from these professionals in new ways, but their personal knowledge and expertise will always be invaluable.

People and technology work hand in hand. When individuals, and to take it further, organizations, embrace first their people, and enable them with the right technology, they will thrive.

Introvert or Extravert: or can you be both?

introvert or extravert

Earlier this week, Justin Trudeau, the Prime Minister of Canada, announced that he will resign as the leader of the Liberal party, and of course as the Prime Minister. I am not going to use this space to weigh in on politics or express my opinion on our current Prime Minister. I read many articles and listened to even more interviews about Trudeau, the person, and I was struck by one particular theme running through the analyses: whether he is an introvert or extravert, or maybe a mix of both.

The more articles I read, in particular, Susan Delacourt’s excellent opinion piece in the Toronto Star, the more I looked inward. I reflected on how others see me, and how I view myself.

Society has created a rather defined idea of what an introvert or extravert is. When I searched for introvert, I found descriptive terms such as reserved, quiet, often shy, introspective, and prefers to be alone. I read that an introvert needs to expend quite a bit of energy to survive and thrive in social situations.

Then there is the extravert. This person may be defined as outgoing, sociable, high energy, talkative or even outspoken. They gain energy from social interaction, and this is interesting, they may be more concerned with external reality than inner feelings.

These definitions seem harsh to me, and I think we quickly judge people and place them into one of the two camps: introvert or extravert. If someone is a bit loud, or gregarious, in a group setting, we point and say they are an extravert. But, maybe all the talking is really just a façade for a person who feels anxious in the group, who is working extra hard to please everyone. Maybe, once you get to know this person, you realize they are extraordinarily shy and they over compensated, just to try to fit in.

Then there is the quiet member of the group. They don’t say much, and they sit off to the side. We assume this person is an introvert and is unable to “get out of their shell.” But maybe it’s situational. Maybe in the right place, with the right people, that person is chatty and outgoing and in the centre of the action.

As I read, and now as I write, I really can’t place myself on either side of the debate. If you have interacted with me at work, I am sure most people wouldn’t hesitate to say that I’m an extravert. I’m talkative and usually very outgoing and sociable. I’ve always been the person to raise my hand to participate in something new, and the more I invest, the more energy I gain.

I’ve been described as passionate, tenacious, with a can-do attitude. But I work hard at that. Like an introvert, I expend a lot of energy in social situations (in my career and personal life). I’m actually a natural home-body, and no matter what I do, I’m a planner. I think about all the steps I need to take to accomplish anything, even if it’s just to drive to the grocery store for milk and eggs. I think carefully about the route I drive to any destination, and I work backwards in my timing when I need to complete a task. I feel instant anxiety when I am not prepared or lose control of a situation.

What does this have to do with whether or not I’m an introvert or extravert? Well, I work hard, and I carefully plan, how, even why, I’m talkative or outgoing in a group. I think about the people with whom I will interact and how I must carry myself. I’m quite chatty among my peers, offering suggestions and sometimes a strong opinion. If I’m in a room with people who may be more senior than me, or more experienced, I’m quieter. I listen more, and while what I say will always be genuine and honest, I will say less.

It doesn’t mean that I’m not thinking and planning out every moment. And depending on the formality of the situation, I may loosen up! If I know the group well, I will speak more, be a bit louder and take in the energy of my surroundings. Put me in a space where I feel intimidated, like a party where I only know a few people or a networking event when I know I need to interact with key individuals, I’m nervous. I will even go as far to say that I’m often anxious. My inner introvert may take over and convince me that I don’t belong or that staying quiet is the better course of action.

I don’t think I’m unique. I think most of us are a mix of introvert and extravert, but it’s not necessarily balanced 50/50. Human beings are complex, and we display many different behaviours or traits, depending on the situation or the people we are with.

That’s true of Canada’s Prime Minister, many multi-national CEO’s, celebrities, professionals, skilled labourers, and yes, me. Social interactions are hard, no matter how a person is defined. It’s easier to stay home, be alone, read a book or watch TV than it is to put yourself out there in the world.

This blog, Kinetic Motions, is one of the ways I put myself out there. Writing is freeing for me, where I’m comfortable and happy. But it doesn’t mean I won’t continue to work hard at being the best version of me, as introvert or an extravert.

 

 

Don’t Let the Light Go Out

As I began to write this, it was the last day of Chanukah. It was January 2nd, 2025, or on the Jewish Calendar, the 2nd of Tevet, 5785. As we lit the candles on Wednesday night, our Chanukiah shone bright with its nine candles. I stayed back after others walked away and stared at the candles, as they began to melt.

There was something warm and wonderful in the light of the candles, and as they melted, and finally fizzled out, their light quickly turned to darkness. The light of the nine bright candles on the Chanukiah, followed by the dark when they were gone, felt like a metaphor of our world right now.

Are we living in a Dark time right now? Will history remember the early part of the 21st century as a harsh time in history? I feel like one person after the next, when I ask them about their feelings, or hopes for 2025, give me the same answer: “Well, I hope it’s better than 2024.” Or, “The world has to gone to hell, it just has to get better than this.”

Whether it is a personal pain, challenges in a community or an existential threat of a nation or a group, it’s hard to find to many areas of light in the last five years for so many people.

It’s like the light is going out in the world. I recently wrote about that wonderful feeling at the start of a new day, and how it brings possibility. I felt the same this past week as we lit the Chanukiah each night. On the first night, there was just a bit of light, with two candles (the “shamash” or helper candle, and the first candle). Each night we added a candle, and with that, more light. It was small, but I felt a greater sense of optimism and hope each night, as our candelabra grew brighter.

The bright candles made me think about how I, or any individual, can help make sure we don’t let the light go out. While the candles melted and fizzled out each night, each additional candle gave more light, and together the candles gave off a beautiful glow.

But, no matter how hard I tried to think about the light, the darkness was there too. I didn’t have to look too far to see the darkness working hard to overtake the light, to suppress it and make it fizzle, like the candles.

The problem is, darkness is easier than light. It’s so much simpler to break something than fix it. Try to stop. No problem. But to start again – much harder.

It takes a lot of work to make light, not just for a candle or a lamp. For many people, it takes a lot of work to be happy and find joy. A fight may happen quickly, but it can time, work, and a lot of patience, to come to a compromise or make up.

Is that why it seems so dark in the world right now? Are we letting ourselves fall into anger and fighting, and we won’t let the light in, to bring calm and joy? How is there so much hate? Does every generation say this, or is the darkness particularly bad right now, and getting worse?

I keep thinking back to how I felt, when the room was bathed in light a couple days ago, by the nine candles of the Chnaukiah. It’s a similar feeling to seeing the colourful bulbs of a Christmas tree or the diyas (small oil lamps) that may line a walkway on Diwali. They all bring light to the darkness.

The light brings people together, and I really believe it has the potential to make good things happen. Think of the Olympic flame, which shines bright over the iconic games. Thousands of athletes, from diverse cultures and races, for the most part, put controversies or disagreements aside to share in the joy of sport. And overtop, especially at night, is that beautiful flame, reminding everyone that with light comes optimism and joy. It pushes us to do good things.

So, we can’t light Chanukah candles every night (though my kids would love that, as that means a gift every night of the year!). But, metaphorically, we also can’t let the light go out. We need to imprint that light in our heads, remember that wonderful feeling of the warmth of the glow around us, when the candles are burning bright.

We need to wrap our arms around the light, and together, we need to make it easier to live in a world with light than darkness. I want 2025 to be better than 2024. Let’s release some of that anger and hate. Let’s try to bring a bit of peace to the world. Let’s give people a chance to succeed and thrive.

We can do it. Just don’t let the light go out.

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