So here is something very special, very close to me, that I'd like to share with you, as I feel it portrays an integral part of who I am. (Scroll down for an explanation of the poem.)
I would like to extend my sincere gratitude to the following people, without whom this project would not have been possible:
My English teacher, Ms. Orlowski, for giving me the best window imaginable and for supporting the project, however far-fetched it may have seemed at the start.
My friend Cora for always keeping an open mind to the writing I share with her, and for accepting and understanding my perceptions.
My father, for his willingness to help me with whatever I was struggling with, whether it be scraping chipped paint off the window or sitting and letting me try my hardest at cutting chicken wire until the ache in my fingers became too much and I had to let him cut it.
And my mother, for listening, always listening, and then fitting everything I’ve said into place, along with supporting my idea from start to finish, transporting the window multiple times, burning the edges of paper, shopping for glue and picture frames, and constantly talking through the project with me.
You all helped me through the sometimes difficult and painful process of creating art from the horrors of the Holocaust.
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| A picture of the final project. There are two picture frames - one with pictures on "our side" of the window - things that don't seem that horrible at first glance. The frame on the other side of the window contains pictures that depict bare, grotesque truth. On each pane is written one of my lessons, and at the top is my main lesson. Around the edges of the window are pictures of windows from various concentration camps, and also Anne Frank's attic window. There are always quotes in different places, and the poem is hanging on the right side. |
Window
By Mollie Greenberg
Window
Look
past
Panes. See
day
night
soul. You? Me?
Trees
of everything.
Leaves
slipping, letting
go a hello.
It falls in
the gutter.
It weeps for
a moment
and soon
it melts
into
the road.
Window
Look
through
glass.
You know
it’s there.
So ignore, go home eat watch TV forget and be.
Forget that
it’s glass
Not paint,
but you know it’s there.
And so do I.
And so do I.
And glass can be cleaned.
So look
through glass.
see
unborn smiles
holding
hands
with tired
pinched
eyes.
Of a child.
Lips cracked as
a desert sun,
beseech
ing
clouds
for
water.
See pink blue purple red green…rainbow, with peaces
turning her back
and
catching
the rays
of lights
from unborn smiles pinched eyes cracked lips…who are
searching YOU
for being.
Look
at light, don’t
squint.
See how
she
caresses
leaftops
and
lake ripples
and
snow meadows
gently.
see how
magnificent,
she.
Long for her to
stroke
you too,
For she cannot reach you
through glass panes screen frame.
Open
Window,
Where
I’m
Not
Defeated yet,
Or
Will be ever.
But light goes down crows swoop clouds cover then breeze changes and
Out your window
no trees leaves unborn smiles eyes pinched lips cracked beseeching clouds…
No longer beseeching clouds…
Since you
were
too
Late.
So
pull back
that hello before
it reaches the gutter
and cradle it in
your arms before
shouting out the world that,
“HELLO!”
And the mist
from that Hello
wipes off grime
on
his, her, their, my, and YOUR
window
so that
light can be
seen coming.
And
link arms with
smiles, sparkling
eyes, stretched
lips, and
rosy cheeks to
Look past those pains
Through that glass
and
Open
That
Window.
Window Explanation
When I wrote this poem, I started with one word:
Window.
After that, the rest of the words just came. But they weren’t just words. The words I was writing, like:
Day
Night
Trees
Leaves
Gutter
Glass
…were symbols, meanings, ways to simply – yet so complicatedly – explain what I was thinking about. I realized, while I was writing, the abstract ideas that I was talking about, but I didn’t realize until weeks later, when this project was assigned, that it was about the Holocaust. Or rather, that it was a remedy for the Holocaust, along with a reflection of how much studying the Holocaust has affected my perception of life in our world.
******
Since the meanings of these words are virtually impossible to understand without much contemplation and interpretation, I’m including an explanation of the poem you just read.
The theme of the poem is to open your eyes to the problems around you, see what needs to be done, and then step forward and do something about them. Don’t miss opportunities. Don’t choose ignorance.
A window is analogized as the barrier separating us from these problems – from the horrible events of the Holocaust, from the genocide in Darfur, the terror in Libya, and also, of a different kind, in Japan. Windows are solid and impermeable unless opened, yet you can see through them. Some, in fact, you can see through so clearly that it’s as if you were in the place on the other side of the window. That’s the goal, anyway – to clean your window so much that you don’t have to peer through dust and dirt to see what’s on the other side. And then, once you can see clearly enough and understand the situation on the other side, you can open the window to change something.
The beginning of the poem questions what you’ll see on the other side of the window…
day
night
soul. You? Me?
…and it goes on to say that you could see everything, and anything. “Trees” are meant to convey the monumental growth and beauty that exists in the world, and they are “trees of everything” because they can hold and remember and tell so much. The trees could also be large opportunities, or choices, that have greatly impacted the world. “Leaves” are the small things that grow from those opportunities. When the leaf slips, “letting go a hello,” it is inviting you to choose something, to take a path, to embark on a journey…to help someone. But that “hello,” that invitation, falls in the gutter, weeps, and is forgotten, “melting” into the road with so many other forgotten things. This is an opportunity missed – like walking by someone in the hallway, hearing them say hello to you, but not returning it.
In the poem, “glass” is mentioned to stress that the boundary between us and the other side of the world is not that strong. You can easily see through it, and easily break it to reach a greater understanding of the other side. The only problem is that people don’t keep their windows clean, or they,
Forget that
it’s glass
Not paint
…not paint, meaning that they deny the existence of a transparent barrier – they pretend that it’s thick, solid paint that can’t be seen through. However, it’s only there because they themselves painted over their window. They are refusing to acknowledge the existence of poverty, starvation, sex trafficking, genocide – all things unbelievable to us. These things are represented in the poem by
unborn smiles
holding
hands
with tired
pinched
eyes.
Of a child.
Lips cracked as
a desert sun,
beseech
ing
clouds
for
water.
The “pink blue purple red green…rainbow, with peaces” is someone who has color in their life, and many things, many “peaces” – luxuries, comforts, securities. This someone turns their back to the other side of the world, taking more than they need,
catching
the rays
of lights
…from those on the other side of the world who really need things – food, water, clothes, warmth, education, or health.
The poem goes down a side road for a little while, telling you to,
Look
at light, don’t
squint.
See how
she
caresses
leaftops
and
lake ripples
and
snow meadows
gently.
see how
magnificent,
she.
This is a message to look at the beautiful things in life – grace, gratitude, honesty, kindness, forgiveness, selflessness – and see how they affect the things that are natural and true to themselves – “leaftops, lake ripples, snow meadows.” Then you are begged to “long for her to stroke you too,” to let those things reach you and become a part of them. However, this can’t happen if you stay cooped up behind your window, unwilling to go out and make a difference in the world, to take an opportunity.
The few lines that follow are a little message to this window, “where I’m not defeated yet, or will be ever.” (It is also a little acrostic poem.) This is you, the person behind the window, begging it to open and let you feel the other side. But you can’t just beg. Otherwise, the joy and hope that could have potentially reached that other side fade out, and the things or people that create catastrophes, the darkness – such as Hitler – take the opportunity to sweep in and wipe out or take advantage of the unfortunate things that you could have helped – the starving children that would do anything just for food and water, the girls trapped in brothels, unable to escape, the innocent Jews that you might have seen walking around wearing yellow stars, trying to stay invisible, and the next day shipped off to a place they have no hope of returning from…
But light goes down crows swoop clouds cover then breeze changes and
Out your window
no trees leaves unborn smiles eyes pinched lips cracked beseeching clouds…
No longer beseeching clouds…
Since you
were
too
Late.
Then the poem invites you to “pull back that hello” – to not miss an opportunity to do good – and spread the kindness to the world, so that you can “wipe off the grime” on other’s windows – so you can help them to see the other side of the world and do something good about it… To see the “light,” the hope, that they could help bring to the other side – the side with pain, chaos, despair, death, suffering. Then you are asked to “link arms with” – to understand, get more familiar with – the victims of these negative entities…except that now they are happier, more hopeful, because you have helped them. Now they are “smiles” and “sparkling eyes.”
Then, once you truly understand the problems on the other side, you can look past the turmoil, accept that it is something truly evil that needs to be fixed, and that you can help fix it: that you can
Open
That
Window.
