Resilience Cafe

4/15/08
I Cannot Compare
Matt Castro

My Humanities teacher, her name is Ms. Staff
She is fun, exciting, and makes me laugh
She has cool projects
And it had their effects

Yet there was this assignment
That caught my attention
about making a connection
With one person of the past, and one of the present

Well I did that
As you can see
But then she said something
That didn't seem right to me

"Now that you're done connecting these two
Try and compare them both to you"
The two people I was connecting were Anne Frank and Janet Castro
They're both very resilient in their own way
But to connect them to me, I say nay!

My reasoning is simple
This is what I'll say
'I cannot compare to Anne Frank and Janet Castro
Because they went through so much dismay'

I cannot compare my simple, joyful life
To that of pain and suffering
I cannot compare my carefree, active life
To that of hatred and violence

I cannnot compare my worst enemy
To that of Hitler himself
Because my worst enemy
Is my older brother

I cannot compare my neighbors
To my grandmother's
Because her neighbors
Are dangerous, and decieving

To be locked in a small room hidden for years
I cannot
To be chased down by an older man
I cannot
To be shipped away to a concentration camp where millions of others before me have suffered from hard labor, seperation, starvation, disease,... death

I cannot compare


A Story of Resilience
Matt Castro

“I will never forget that moment when the 17-year-old Peter van Pels and I saw a group of selected men. Peter’s father was among them. They were marched away. Two hours later a cart with their clothes on it went by.” –Otto Frank, Anne Frank’s father. Anne Frank was born June 12, 1929, and began a life that was carefree and full of joy. A few years passed, and Hitler’s Nazi Party was growing in Germany, and Anti-Semitism , a belief brought up by Hitler blaming Jews for all of Germany’s problems, took its fateful toll. The life Anne and her family once had, was being swept away, as they began their move from, what was once home, to a place of secrecy. On arrival to Amsterdam, Anne received a diary for her 13th Birthday.

“The Annex is an ideal place to hide in. It may be damp and lopsided, but there's probably not a more comfortable hiding place in all of Amsterdam. No, in all of Holland.”-Anne Frank. Anne Frank was a girl of profundity and resilience, and was very serious about what was going on in Europe during the Holocaust. As she lay in her room, behind the movable bookcase, she transferred her thoughts into her diary. “The nicest part is being able to write down all my thoughts and feelings, otherwise I'd absolutely suffocate.” What is most fascinating about her life was the battle she fought with death itself. Hitler had complete supremacy over Germany, and he gave out an order to arrest all Jewish people, to send them to concentration camps, and give them hours of hard labor. Most Jews tried hiding, like Anne and her family, but were soon caught and shipped to camps. At the camps, the Nazi officers divided the people by whether or not they could work. Those that couldn’t were sent to gas chambers. Usually, young children, the old, sick, and handicapped were sent to one side, the other people who were able of labor to the other side. Anne, her family and another family that were co-workers of Otto Frank’s business were kept hidden for almost 2 years, until that fateful day.
“It was around ten-thirty. I was upstairs with the Van Pelses in Peter’s room and I was helping him with his schoolwork. I was showing him the mistake in the dictation when suddenly someone came running up the stairs. The stairs were squeaking, I stood up, because it was still early in the morning and everyone was supposed to be quiet - then the door opened and a man was standing right in front of us with a gun in his hand and it was pointed at us.”-Otto Frank. August 4, 1944, a car pulls up to the secret hiding place of the Frank’s, and an SS-officer jumps out along by three Dutch Policemen. The Nazi officer took out his machine gun; kicked open the door, and arrested the 8 people there. Four days later Anne and the other 7 people were deported to a concentration camp called “Westerbork”. They were all capable of labor, but were still separated by gender. October came, and Anne and her sister are deported to another camp. After surviving in a concentration camp for 8 months, Anne along with her sister, were overcome by typhus, a virus they received while living in their hostile environment. “First, Margot had fallen out of bed onto the stone floor. She couldn’t get up anymore. Anne died a day later.”-Anonymous. It was only two weeks before the British Army came to Anne’s camp and liberated it, that she died. Anne’s story will never be forgotten, because of her bravery towards the devil’s work. While Hitler colonized demons from his hell-hole, Anne stood strong, while the hatred spread across all of Europe, Anne stood strong; and while all hope seemed lost, Anne stood up tall with her stories that have been interpreted in her diary. These stories gave others the lost hope, the forgotten strength, and the invisible courage. She isn’t the only person to have endured so much pain, and with that pain made it into a story of resilience. Another woman, born 11 years after Anne’s birth, July 29th, 1940, had a similar story from a different situation. Her name was Janet Michalowski, and she was born on a farm, which seemed to be a peaceful place. Like Anne, she moved to a harsher place; New Jersey. Here is where she fought for her life, and freedom. Just like Anne.

“Don’t cry over spilled milk”-Janet Michalowski. Janet was always on her toes, running errands, going to school, or even running away from a strange man. The place she lived in was a tough and cruel place to be. It was ghetto New Jersey, a commercial city. The apartment that held Janet and her family was minuscule to the amount of people in it. It had 4 rooms, and only one bathroom, with no heat. Janet had 5 siblings, and one loving mother to look after them. Her father had left when she was 4 years old. Janet had many stories to tell of her childhood, but the one that is remembered the most was the chase down the darkest alley she had ever been in. She was 6 years old at the time, and her mother ordered her to go to the store to buy some more milk. On the way home, after she bought the beverage, a man slowly appeared behind her, and slowly, followed. Janet noticed, and turned into an alley-way so she could make a run for it. The man ran, too, but faster. He was getting closer, and closer, and closer, until… WHAM! Janet had dropped her carton of milk in fear, and cried as the white infested the black ground. The man had disappeared into thin air. She was petrified but luckily, she was fine. She came home; only bringing with her the tears from the incident. It was then that her mother told her, “Don’t cry over spilled milk”, which was more metaphorical than literal. It is now a phrase that Janet uses all of the time. Another frightening event in time was when she was 5 and she had just gotten out of school. She was skipping to the entrance of her apartment, when she noticed there was something blocking the way. It was a woman, homeless by the look of it, lying on one of the steps of the stairs. She was mumbling to herself, and also gave the appearance of being drunk. Janet couldn’t get past her, and she was too terrified to try to talk. Her words had evaporated when she first saw her. She walked outside, and called desperately for her mother. Soon enough, the window to her apartment swung open, and her mother’s face popped out. Janet told her everything, and she solved the problem in an instant. Janet went through difficult times in Jersey City, but had never regretted living there. Through the dark times she went through, came light, and through separation and divorce came unity. When Janet’s father left, the family kept together as much as they could. Even when Janet’s brother had a paper route and her sister worked at a hospital, and even she ran errands for women, they worked to keep the family together. Although Janet obtained the gift of being able to survive her child-life, she and Anne Frank have a strong connection between their legacies. Anne brought a wonderfully frightening story that moved many towards the world-wide fight for peace. Janet had also brought a story like Anne’s, but had only so many people to move. There is one person, though, that both women have swayed, and he is 14 years old, a descendant of Janet, and has his own story of resilience to tell.

“One cannot look back at all of the resilient people in Earth’s history, and not strive to become more like them.”-Matt Castro. I am more than thankful to have the life I am living now. I am safe, away from violence and hate, and have many friends along with family. I am also thankful for the people who paved the road that made me where I am right now, and that include Janet Castro (her surname was changed when she married Juan Castro), my grandmother, and Anne Frank, one of my inspirations. These two people have influenced me greatly. If there were any way to connect with both of them, it’d be in a really small way, because my life is so very different from theirs. I have never gone through the holocaust, I’ve never been in ghetto New Jersey, nor have I had to hide from Hitler’s army, or lived with 6 other people in a small, one bathroom, apartment. I have, though, risen up from something negative. It was last summer, and I was going to Holland to play in an international sports competition. The organization was called “People to People” and I was very excited about going. There were tons of others, some were playing different sports than I, but most of them were just like me; baseball players. They came from all over the US. Some were from Kentucky, some from Idaho, and others from New York. It was amazing, until the competition started. Everyone seemed to be bigger than I was, and older. Most of the players on my team were older, and all of them were bigger. I remember I was on a bus going to our hotel when I heard someone talking about me. “He is the shortest 13 year-old I’ve ever seen! Even my mother said ‘Damn he’s short’. Did you see him carrying his luggage? He could barely walk. What a little shrimp. How the hell is he supposed to play baseball?” The guy had no idea I was listening, but I bet he didn’t even care. I was broken on the inside. I knew what he was saying was the truth, because I was the last person to get on the bus because I was so slow. I felt small and weak, like a small fish in a big ocean. I tried to forget about it, but it just raced through my head. I left it all on the field, though. When I played, I forgot about everything. I just did what I was supposed to do, and it all turned out fine. In fact, by the end of the tournament, I had the 2nd best batting average on my team. It was .500, and an average pro’s batting average is .300. I was so proud of myself. That wasn’t all, though. Our team came in 4th out of all of the other European teams. After the tournament was over, all of the American coaches, and the European coaches formed all-star teams, hoping to play in one final game. I was among those all-stars. I had totally forgotten what that guy on the bus said, because now I know it didn’t matter anymore. Size never matters, all you need is strength, confidence, and determination, and you can make it. Just like me. Just like Janet. Just like Anne.