On teaching 'difficult' topics in history

The value to our learners of understanding genocide

As with any subject, a successful history teacher must have passion; this is what brings justification to, and engagement from, learners. All teachers look for those rare moments in class in which they see the ‘eureka’ moment: that learning crucible – so the cliché goes – where a student who has previously seemed lost and confused suddenly understands the topic and their face lights up with clarity and pride. This is often used as an example of why teachers do what we do, and also seen as proof of ‘outstanding’ learning - although I, and most of my British colleagues in particular, have learned to treat that word with a degree of caution.

All teachers will have topics that they favour teaching: for some this is due to their own preferences; for others it may be one that it is easier for students to grasp; a topic which creates higher level of engagement; perhaps one that lends itself to more active learning. Generally, it is a combination of these factors. For myself, the single most powerful topic I teach is also by far the most daunting – the Holocaust. As a student of Ancient History, I would not claim to be any more an expert on this topic than most history teachers. I have worked with some who have focused their entire degree around this subject, and from an academic standpoint the ‘reading list’ is exhaustive. Fine historians – I will not list them here – have enriched the debate on the topic and it is clearly one of the most relevant to the modern world. Despite the best efforts of the Nazis and their collaborators we have a huge amount of historical evidence to build upon, and while their number is sadly dwindling, we also benefit from the personal stories of many holocaust survivors. It is remarkable how many of these people are willing to share their own experiences and I have been privileged to speak to some both in the United Kingdom and also in Poland when I visited Auschwitz.

  As a result, it is a natural topic to feed into the curriculum. In the history classroom I have traditionally started to broach this topic in Year 9. It becomes a part of our wider learning at both IGCSE and IB level, therefore early forays into these concepts prove to be a valuable insight and opportunity to apply context. In the English curriculum, many teachers choose to analyse works such as ‘The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas’ and I am always proud to collaborate on the topic to enrich wider understanding but also to learn myself – a quick glance at a mark scheme in History will prove that we must, to some extent, become English teachers as well if we are to maximise outcomes in analytical and evaluative language.

  As a new or ‘green’ teacher, the Holocaust can be an unnerving prospect to teach. How to go about it? The pedagogical approaches have shifted massively since I was a student. I remember vividly what I saw. I struggle to remember what exactly I learned, which itself tells a tale. As with other topics in history that are sensitive, such as slavery, civil rights, independence movements, there is an urgent need to get it right: to do justice to something which is both emotive and very personal to some people. For most of us there is a need for caution – we have not experienced these things, and comparatively come from a spectacularly privileged position. We must be empathetic, but as historians focus on searching for facts and reason – I will not drift into a Theory of Knowledge discussion concerning whether or not there can be objective facts in history, although if you wish to explore this with students, discussion of Chapter 1 of Eric Hobsbawm’s ‘On History’ is an excellent opportunity to begin doing so.

  In trying to find this balance, whilst at the same time bring learning to life for students, I have seen teachers produce clunky, awkward, culturally and emotively insensitive activities which have profoundly missed the mark. To be clear – I have been that teacher. I think that in the very immediate term we need to look at ways to support teachers and dedicate areas of CPD and initial training to practical and holistic ways to approach this topic. But the purpose of this essay is not to articulate how difficult it is to be a history teacher. We all clearly deserve medals, but they can wait for now.

  Why then do we attempt this topic? What is the inherent value inside and outside the history classroom? It is almost universally accepted as being an integral part of a British curriculum. Whatever my differences with the National Curriculum introduced in the early stages of David Cameron’s government, it was notable that almost the only mandatory topic prescribed in the Key Stage 3 history classroom was the Holocaust. A German colleague of mine discussed this with me recently, and in her own country it is predictably front and centre in a range of subjects, often revisited year on year. This is an example of the fascinating German tradition of ‘mahnmal,’ where memorials and monuments are constructed in the public eye to serve as a reminder and a warning of the dark part of our collective history. As Neil MacGregor noted in 2016, this allows the German people to give their past a frank appraisal lacking in some other cultures. He notes as a contrast the British tendency to focus on what he calls the ‘sunny side’ of British imperial history. So perhaps a fundamental purpose of the study of the Holocaust is that it serves to enhance our increasingly global understanding of our shared past. The collective ‘memory’ of our cultures, as history was described by Malcolm X, is surely served by acknowledging such a milestone in 20th Century history. The German reaction, their frank acknowledgement of past crimes and refusal to forget perceived national shame, is worth celebrating in the classroom. Globally, we must get better at facing our own mistakes and learning from them. Is that not exactly the trait that we want from our students? The Holocaust provides a lesson about how we deal with our own flaws, how we strive to improve. For me ‘mahnmal’ is a powerful example of a national ‘growth mindset.’

  But why the Holocaust specifically? I used the term milestone as great steps were taken in the wake of World War Two to prevent such an occurrence from ever being repeated. But much as nations collectively cried “Never again!” after the Great War of 1914-18, genocide has been a permanent feature of our post-WWII era. The actions of the perpetrators of the Final Solution were not the first to attempt to eradicate a people, nor were they the last. Neil Gregor wrote on a televised discussion where someone described the Holocaust as ‘uniquely evil.’ He took issue with both of those words. The Holocaust – as a genocide – was not unique. And how does an historian quantify ‘evil?’ If it was the amount of people killed, then the Holocaust cannot claim the record. Nor the speed of the killing. In 100 days in 1994 it is estimated that up to one million people were killed in Rwanda. The holocaust is an excellent opportunity to discuss the horrors of genocide, but it must be done in the wider context. Armenia should be brought into the discussion. Indeed in a quote attributed to Hitler, when some questioned whether the German people, and indeed the world, would allow a genocide with such clear orchestration and intent, the response was “Who, after all, speaks today of the annihilation of the Armenians?” Hitler has provided us here with a powerful lesson. And post-1945, the lessons are directly applicable across the globe and exist today, if we look at the Rohingya crisis. While the events are very current we must be careful to avoid make sweeping claims without sufficient evidence, but certainly ‘acts of genocide’ have been widely reported. This chilling term ‘acts of’ may be more disturbing than the word genocide itself. It reminds us of the Rwandan crisis when international politicians used the term to avoid taking immediate and protective action to put a stop to the slaughter. The term ‘collective responsibility’ came sharply into focus in this moment. The world was forced to acknowledge that at least on some level it had failed in its collective duty. This was also true of the Holocaust, but it was fair to say that it was not entirely clear exactly how far the Nazi genocide of the Jews had been developed. So if we can in a mature way link the visceral reality of the Holocaust to our own lives and current affairs, students will see the value of their own decisions and actions. If we are trying to create active and empathetic global citizens then surely we must encourage them to see how horrors committed in previously unheard of areas are increasingly becoming easy to identify. Beyond this simple acknowledgement students need to realise that more than ever before they can take a role in preventing these actions, by simply raising awareness and by lobbying governments and supporting organisations to take action.

  We should be learning from to our past to inform our future. This statement summarises one of the core justifications for the study of history – particularly vocalised by teachers who are wary of over-emphasising the value of ‘soft’ or ‘transferable’ skills as a reason to study the subject. Permit me to move onto a slight tangent at this point. I am a fan of Harry Potter. Whilst back in the United Kingdom recently I visited the ‘History of Magic’ exhibit at the British Library. I remain in awe of Rowling’s dedicated research, her encyclopaedic knowledge of myths, legends and historical details which informed her work. However, a painful aspect of her books for myself was one of the classes: ‘History of Magic.’ This lesson is unequivocally tedious. Professor Binns is a boring, droning ghost and almost every student finds the subject dull. He constantly references ‘facts’ and is the epitome of the ‘monotonous history class’ archetype.

  I was fortunate to have an outstanding history teacher who inspired me to follow in his footsteps because he moved beyond facts and brought the subject home to me in a relatable way. Many of our prescribed topics do not always lend themselves to seeming real, having those detailed human moments. The Holocaust is our opportunity to remind ourselves that at our best we are not teachers of ‘History of Magic.’ Instead, we are teachers of what turns out to be the most significant subject of all: ‘Defence against the Dark Arts.’ We do not teach the past, we teach the human past. Our duty is to teach the best and worst of that past: to show our students what humanity is capable of and help them to understand that they face the same choices as every person in our past has. The Holocaust reminds them that their decisions as adults can have a huge impact on their world, and that impact can reach both ends of the spectrum, causing great positive change or potentially unspeakable acts to the detriment of their fellow man. Our role can be to cultivate and encourage both, if we so choose. By teaching the origins of the Holocaust we can help create Sophie Scholls, and prevent the creation of Horst Wessels.

  The crucibles of history are those moments which demonstrate those two sides of our character. Without exception the rise of the one creates the other. Without segregation would we have seen the strength and courage of Rosa Parks – or the equally worthy of note Claudette Colvin? Without the Second World War would we have seen the mass production of penicillin thanks to the work of not just Fleming but also Florey and Chain? Without the Holocaust would we have the Universal Declaration of Human Rights? The Holocaust is an essential crucible in this way. The light and dark sides of humanity merge to create grey area. This is where historians dwell. Our students must learn to be comfortable in this area. It lacks the clarity of mathematical equations which some can find unnerving. But life will provide these problems to our students. They will be forced as adults to be problem solvers, but there will often be a number of potential solutions and no easy choice. “To study history means submitting to chaos and nevertheless retaining faith in order and meaning. It is a very serious task, young man, and possibly a tragic one.” The study of the Holocaust exemplifies this quote from Hermann Hesse by embracing the seriousness, whilst also not shying away from the tragic. Seeking a logical reason behind the most highly illogical events forces our students to reflect on why people act as they do.

  In our department’s teaching of the Holocaust, we focus on the individuals. Both the Jews and others who suffered the atrocities, and also those who carried them out, even those who supported the genocide, explicitly by their actions or crucially in some cases, implicitly, by their lack of action. As I mentioned earlier, my own study of the Holocaust at school was visual. At least, my memory is of the visual. I do not share the same teaching and learning style in my classroom today. The Holocaust is horrifying. If you cannot create that fundamental understanding amongst your students without showing them the emaciated bodies, the mass graves, the death squads, you are teaching it wrong. We are at risk of perpetuating the desensitising of young people, an accusation increasingly being levelled culturally and politically. If the students want these images, they will find them, there is nothing we as teachers can do about that. A google image search will present these images in seconds. Our role must be to provide context. To re-sensitise students who may struggle to reconcile, consciously or not, what they are seeing with actual human beings. It requires trust, as well as a huge level of emotional maturity. I do not think that once students reach a certain age they suddenly develop this on their own. As part of the learning process, students must be supported to make these links and still ‘retain faith in order.’ Our role is to allow them to learn in a way that they can come to terms with but always feel supported in. The Holocaust is a great way for us to focus on being facilitators of learning rather than teachers of knowledge.

  We must ensure that we make use of the resources in a conscientious way. Many organisations provide resources and training for teachers on how to teach this sensitive topic the ‘right way’ avoid teaching this sensitive topic the wrong way. The Centre for Holocaust Education in the UK is just one of these, but one whose resources have proved invaluable. They also have a range of CPD opportunities. Their focus on the people rather than simply events is something upon which I have heavily based my own teaching perspective. We must not shy away from the difficult subjects. We must embrace the inherent risk in teaching emotive aspects of history and trust our students to gain depth of understanding with our guidance.

  The Holocaust exemplifies all the key skills required of an historian – critical analysis, evaluation of perspectives, demonstrating a reasoned judgement. But it also creates the kind of adults we want to see and that we ourselves seek to be - adults who are aware of the danger of being overwhelmed by fear, who are conscious of the issues of being manipulated by the media, whether cultural or social; adults who do not see horror on their televisions and carry on eating their dinner, but who seek to understand why these events are occurring and are encouraged to act to prevent them. We want them to see suffering and be appalled, not because it is happening to people, but to see it as happening to their people, regardless of race or language or geographical separation. The Holocaust brings history to life for my students, because they understand that for a twist of fate in time or region, they could be the victims. Perhaps more viscerally, they are aware that they could also have become the perpetrators. Very few topics will give them such an insight into history, or indeed themselves. This is why it requires dedication and significant planning to bring into a curriculum. The study of the Holocaust has the potential to defend all of us against the dark arts.