We Are the Shoes, We Are the Last Witnesses

We Are the Shoes 
"We are the shoes, we are the last witnesses.
We are the shoes from grandchildren and grandfathers
From Prague, Paris, Amsterdam,
And because we are only made of fabric and leather
And not of blood and flesh, each one of us avoided the hellfire."
~ Yiddish poet Moses Schulstein

On the third floor of the permanent exhibit at the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum is one of the most impactful and moving museum exhibits that I have ever encountered. I first visited the museum several years ago, and this exhibit has stood out in my memory ever since.

One morning this summer we headed to the museum a couple of hours before it opened to the public in order to clean this exhibit. The shoe exhibit.

Thousands of pairs of shoes. Brown and dusty. Black and warped. Shoes from adults and shoes from the small feet of children. It's horrifying. It's haunting. It's memorable. The smell is arresting, and remains in your nostrils, sticks in your brain, long after you leave the room. It smells of rotting leather and it brings thousands of visitors to tears each year. When I speak to people who have been to the USHMM, they always remember this exhibit.


Majdanek
These shoes come from Majdanek, a concentration camp in eastern Poland. Majdanek was initially formed as forced labor camp, but was eventually used for extermination. Some 80,000 Jews, and 100,000 individuals altogether, died at Majdanek, many from the horrific living and working conditions and others from the systematic killings implemented by the SS.

Majdanek, the first major camp to be liberated, was liberated by the Soviets in July of 1944. Although the Germans attempted to destroy evidence of killing centers, they were unsuccessful with Majdanek because of its early liberation. Today the camp stands as a museum and memorial to the atrocities committed there.

Personal Victim's Belongings

After transportation to camps, victims were stripped of their belongings, including valuables and clothing. The forsaken personal belongings of Holocaust victims are numerous and tell a profoundly emotional story. Upon liberation, hundreds of thousands of pairs of shoes lay in mountains at the various concentration camps. Tens of thousands of shoes are still at Majdanek and the more than 4,000 shoes at the USHMM are on loan from Majdanek. 

Mixed Emotions

The emotions evoked within me on an early morning this summer were conflicting. I slipped on my nitrile gloves and prepared to clean several thousand shoes. You cannot enter this room and not be moved. It is immediately impactful and sorrowful. Emotions well up and threaten to overflow, sadness, horror and anger.

And here I was, using a shop-vac to carefully clean dust off the visible remains of a genocide. We rubber-banded medical gauze to the brush at the end of a vacuum hose and it felt irreverent. Yes, this treatment is necessary in order to preserve these artifacts. Yes, someone has to come in a couple of times a year to remove the dust that accumulates.

And yes, I was glad to be the someone to do so. Amidst the sorrow and irreverence I felt a simultaneous  excitement that seemed somewhat wrong and disrespectful. For I was also a museum studies student, working to help conserve one of the most provocative museum exhibits that I have visited. Working hands-on with such an important exhibit is rewarding, and I felt this alongside my other emotions.

I Cleaned the Shoes
My internship included a wide variety of memorable experiences and learning opportunities. Cleaning the shoes of the Majdanek victims will long remain with me as one of the most poignant moments this summer.

I cleaned the shoes that bear witness to the millions of people who entered the gates at concentration camps and never came back. I cleaned the shoes that speak to millions of visitors, telling them to never forget. I cleaned the shoes that urge us to take responsibility and speak out against hatred, lest we find ourselves with new piles of shoes of new victims.

I cleaned the shoes.

And in doing so I was moved profoundly, both as an individual and as an aspiring museum professional.

"I saw a mountain
Higher than Mount Blanc
And more Holy than the Mountain of Sinai.
Not in a dream. It was real.
On this world this mountain stood.
Such a mountain I saw - of Jewish shoes in Majdanek."
~ Moses Schulstein

A Summer In Washington

A Summer in Our Nation's Capital
I began this post a couple of weeks into June. I have since begun several other posts that have, like this one, never gone live. I had incredibly good intentions to blog every couple of weeks. While this obviously has not happened, it's the thought that counts. Right?

Okay, so maybe imagined blog posts don't really count for much.

This post will just have to count for what would have been a summer of very fascinating posts that you will now just have to imagine, as I did.

The summer is now almost over. I have only one day left in my summer internship, which it feels like I just begun. Needless to say, the summer has flown by. I have been blessed to live with some of my favourite people in the world - Stacie and Nat McConnell. As I took on an unpaid internship, I was so thankful to have such wonderful friends to open their home to me.


When I began applying for internships way back in January, I never expected that I would be spending the summer at an internationally-acclaimed museum in our nation's capital.



United States Holocaust Memorial Museum
Nevertheless, for one more day I am a government employee as an intern in the collections branch at the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum. Since June 1, I have assisted with a variety of collection-related tasks.

My duty station is in Maryland, at the museum's offsite collections storage facility. Over 97% of the museum's collections are in the offsite facility, whose security and secrecy rivals the FBI (though, if an FBI agent comes to talk about art crime, he will also inform you of all of the ways a criminal could blow up the building). The other three percent are in downtown Washington, mostly on display in the permanent exhibit.


My main project for the summer involved looking at collection's incoming files. When we receive a collection, we begin a file that includes a custody receipt for the objects, any emails about the collection, movement notes, etc. This file eventually becomes a permanent accession file, which will house any information regarding the accessioning of the collection. Accessioning is the legal transfer of ownership of an object from a donor to a museum.


The Ever-Important Deed of Gift
We have a large number of collections that have not been accessioned, and my job was to look through the accession files and the database to find out why. I then added an entry for each collection to a spreadsheet and assigned it to a museum staff person to remedy the issue.

95% of these collections are lacking proper documentation. While some collections need purchase receipts or copies of a donor's will, the majority need a deed of gift. This is a legal document that enumerates the extent of the collection and transfers ownership of it to the museum. Without this signed document, the museum cannot accession a collection. As some of these collections have been at the museum since the early nineties, getting signatures from all of these donors will not be a fun task.


Intern Miscellanea
My supervisor is Heather Kajic, the Chief of Collections Management, and she is wonderful supervisor. Heather has ensured that I will leave my internship with a wealth of knowledge about the good and bad of collections management. Therefore, a couple of days each week were spent doing a variety of tasks unrelated to my project. I dusted. I condition reported. I made boxes. I accessioned. I went on field trips. I rehoused archival material. I pulled requested objects. I updated the database. I cut sticky notes. I vacuumed carts. I vacuumed objects. I lifted heavy boxes.

I learned.

Most importantly, I am ending my internship having gained a wealth of knowledge and experience. And ultimately, isn't that what an internship is all about?

Was it perfect? Of course not. I certainly wish all internships were paid. And I now have an insider's knowledge of the issues that this institution faces. But what I gained from this summer is invaluable. I have a better understanding of my profession and I am better equipped to enter my field when I graduate in a year.

This has been a summer well-spent.