This blog was written on Power of Place: 2025 European Summer Institute for Holocaust Educators – an experiential professional development for teachers where learning unfolds as they tour historical sites across Europe in order to transform their understanding of the Holocaust, WWII, antisemitism, and Jewish life today. Power of Place is planned and co-led by Humanus Network on behalf of JCRC and generously supported by the Minnesota Vikings, the Tankenoff Families Foundation, and Allianz of America Corporation.

by Jenai Sheffels, World and Civics teacher, Tesla STEM High School (Redmond, WA) | June 24, 2025

It’s a bucolic setting. There’s a sweet scent in the air from the yellow flowering trees along the drive. A beautiful white castle encases a sunlit courtyard. Intricate painted patterns adorn the arches along the balconies that flank each floor, a hint to the structure’s royal roots. But there is a darkness that hovers along the white plaster walls. This was the site of the T4 program: Hartheim Castle in Austria. We investigate the site together, analyzing the photos Paul and Wolfgang prepared. We don’t really know each other yet. We’d met only briefly through introductory Zoom meetings. Now we stand at the end of the village that adjoins the castle, tentatively sharing our impressions amongst these familiar strangers. We talk in small groups about the complicity of the villagers who supplied the baked goods, the priests who helped with intake, and the doctors who betrayed their solemn oath to do no harm. There are tears in the garden by the memorial for the ashes of the victims. Although all of this is difficult to process, there is a kind of comfort in mourning together — in learning together.

This experience repeats several times with slight variations throughout the trip. We work in groups at Mauthausen concentration camp in Poland to reveal the stories behind the history. We begin to see these things through new eyes: What is in front of us versus what is missing? We can see both the presence and the absence now. Together we develop new lesson approaches to immerse ourselves in the power of the place — in standing on the sites that bring an experience to the learning that isn’t available through photos or printed words alone. It’s hard to explain, but it’s apparent in the moment. Seeing the distance from the train depot to the camp, imagining the drudgery of the stairs out of the quarry from our viewpoint above, and mourning the loss of so many to the gas chambers, the gallows, or the wall. We see it all and feel it together. It brings us even closer. There is trust now, and new friendships emerge.

On the bus, we share a bit of ourselves. We get to know about the families, pets, travels, and classrooms of each member as we travel to different sites throughout the three different countries on our agenda. Some have personal stories of survivors and victims in their own families that they bravely share with us. They are stories of loss, fear, and resilience that make each new site or historical event more meaningful because now its personal to all of us, too.

In the Jewish Quarter of Rome, Italy, our guide, Sara, shares about the ghetto and also of her family, who seem to be woven into the fabric of this place. She speaks of lost members, rounded up when Italy begins its persecution of the Jews, but also of the five siblings who survive. Two of them are here, waving to us as they kiss Sara in passing as we continue our tour. The Great Synagogue, used merely for storage during the war, now welcomes a celebration of 50 years of marriage. Family members stand witness and wrap us into the moment as well. We look at each other, joy apparent in each of us. How is it we are so lucky to be here? To witness this moment? To be a part of this large, jubilant family, even if for only this moment?  Jewish life lives on here, despite attempts to obliterate it. Café Nonna Betta bears the name of Sara’s grandmother. An aunt has a bakery on the corner where we must try the ricotta cheesecake. Stolpersteine (stumbling stones) throughout the quarter bear more names of her family. She reminds us that this is the center of Jewish life, and it is clear that this is true. Life is all around us. After so many difficult sites, so many stories of betrayal or depravity, this community is a beacon of light that continues to persevere.

Our last meeting feels vastly different than the first. We are strangers no longer. We are a family as we share our reflections one last time. I know every person here now. I’ve cried with them, struggled with tough questions with them, laughed with them, shared meals with them, and compared notes with them. From the beginning, we had a sense that this group was special. It was lovingly curated and arranged by our fearless leaders Kristin, Susie, and Laura. They are family now, too. We all know that we have been given a mandate to pass these lessons on and keep the memories of the lost alive. We are honored to do so.