As a Holocaust survivor, I know how hatred spreads until it is inescapable. When I was a child, the crimes committed against Jews and others who were persecuted in the Holocaust were part of my daily life.
I grew up in Compiègne, France in the 1940s. Anti-Semitism came to my city and overwhelmed the streets. It infiltrated my school. I was called a “dirty Jew” by all but one of my classmates; the one who was an ally has remained a friend to this day. But she was the exception. By almost everyone else, I was made to feel like a piece of dirt.
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