The Memory Generation

Episode 5: Aziza Hasan

INTRO

Rachael Cerrotti: Hey Everyone, I’m Rachael Cerrotti. Welcome to The Memory Generation – a podcast about the memories we inherit and the stories that are passed from one generation to the next. Today we are talking with Aziza Hasan.

Aziza is the executive director of New Ground, a community-building organization based in Los Angeles that creates, connects and empowers Jewish and Muslim Change-makers in America. Through her work, she’s helping us navigate some really difficult conversations – ones that have caused hurt and conflict for generations.

In this conversation we dive into a topic that is politically sensitive throughout the world and personally sensitive for both of us – the question of how to talk about Israel and Palestine.

As I record this, I am in Tel Aviv. It is my first trip to Israel since before the pandemic. I came here for a summit that brought together young Jewish professionals from 25 different countries to talk about how to make change in this world. And in these conversations, I found that Aziza had given me really important tools to talk about the political realities here. I have inherited a sense of belonging to Israel simply because I was born Jewish while Aziza’s family has been displaced. In this episode, you will hear Aziza talk about her own family history. About how her father’s Palestinian family was driven from this land – first in 1948 with the establishment of the state of Israel and then again in 1967 with the 6-day war. 

Aziza and I recorded this conversation on April 19, 2022 through Zoom. I was in Portland, Maine and she was at her home in Los Angeles, California. 

INTERVIEW

Rachael Cerrotti: So, Aziza, I'm curious if we could just start with your background. Where did you grow up? What was your family like? All that good childhood stuff?

Aziza Hasan: Happy too. My story is actually roots me and my work. I was born in Amman, Jordan in 1980 and my mom is Christian from the Midwest with family – one side is in Michigan, the other was in Oklahoma. And my dad is Palestinian and Muslim. And while they raised us Muslim, I would frequently attend services with my mom. 

Rachael Cerrotti: In Jordan?

Aziza Hasan: In Jordan. I was raised with a lot of other kids who were half and half mixed families. You'd have women who were from Great Britain or Scotland and the United States and they were married to Palestinians or Jordanians. And we were basically that generation that could switch codes pretty quickly being able to speak Arabic in one setting and speak English in another and know that there's certain ways that you behave in these different places, but having community and still somewhat feeling like you're an outsider. And so I remember these moments where my mom didn't understand the switch in the setting and somebody would say something that I knew wasn't respectful from an Arabic standpoint. And I found myself really being her translator and sometimes being my dad's translator whenever we were in the United States. And when Jordan signed the peace accords with Israel in 1993, I remember I went to the American school and they were going to do a trip across the border into Israel and I just remember these stories of my dad telling me about the place called Qubab which is this little tiny village. And he would tell us about how it had this fruit that whenever it would come in season, his belly ached badly because he always ate too much of it and because it was so good and it was almost mythical the way he described this place and it was like, I want to go see this place. 

Rachael Cerrotti: Did you feel that way before the border opened up? Was that always a feeling or did that come once the possibility to return was there? 

Aziza Hasan: Oh, that’s such a great question. I didn't think that that border was – it was impenetrable before the Oslo Peace Accords. You know, America was closer than it was to go to Israel and to see Palestinian space. I found myself all of a sudden like having possibility that I didn't think was possible before. And when I went, it was almost just as beautiful as my dad had described. And it was just such a beautiful moment of connection to self that I didn't realize could be so powerful. 

Rachael Cerrotti: How old were you at this time?

Aziza Hasan: I must've been 14. 

Rachael Cerrotti: That's a powerful experience at a young age.

Aziza Hasan: Absolutely. Yes. Absolutely. And it's interesting because I signed up for the trip and I was like, I'm going. And then I was at my best friend's home and telling her about the details, the itinerary before we went. And her dad didn't respond in the way that I thought. His response was to point at me and say, you're a traitor. And I didn't understand why he was so upset and I’d learned from my friend that her dad's dad and his dad and his brother were killed in 1967 in the Jordan Valley as they were fleeing. And when I went home, I told my dad what happened and he's like, you know, sometimes Aziza, you have to put one foot in front of the other and you just have to go and see for yourself. And so here I am, like, telling my Palestinian dad this. And like, you know, they lost so much in 1948 and 67. But here he was telling me that sometimes you just have to put one foot in front of the other. And so I did. And yes, I question things all the time, and that's why I have to dig back into my family's heritage and my story because it's actually what helps me stay in the conversation and in this work because sometimes it does feel like a betrayal. And if I'm going to be able to work through and truly stick to my values of what it means to truly build something that is beautiful where I can help people see the beauty in each other and see the human on the other side, then I need to be able to wrestle through these really hard things. 

Rachael Cerrotti: You just told us of a really powerful memory and that story of your friend's father, I know you tell on the TEDX stage. You tell it so powerfully and so beautifully and you can tell that it's something that has, you know, continued to grow in you as a memory. And if you could walk us through a memory of yours, an inherited one, that you feel like guides you today.

Aziza Hasan: Yeah, there's so many. When the family fled because of, there was violence all around and it was clear that they were going to be unsafe. Sometime in 1948. They lived in Qubab. And so my father must have been four. And it was clear that they're unsafe and so my grandfather and his brother owned the mill in that town and my grandfather's brother was actually the mayor. And so they were all huddled up in the mill, them and their families because they were just scared. And there was a pounding on the door and everybody jumped and my grandfather realized it was his friend who is from the kibbutz next door. And the friend said, you're not safe here anymore. You have to get out immediately to save your family's life. You're not going to be able to take the short road, like the main road to Jerusalem or any place to get out. You're going to have to take the harder road and go around the long way. 

Rachael Cerrotti: This is a Jewish friend from the kibbutz next door?

Aziza Hasan: Yeah, so this Jewish friend actually saved their lives. He risked his life to go out in the midst of danger and to say like, you need to get out. And my grandfather followed his - his advice and they got out and they lived under the trees and they traveled for lord knows how long, whether it was days or I don't know. They had young children with them. And eventually they made their way to another town called Ein ‘Arik which is closer to Ramallah. And there they kind of stayed in the refugee camp area like where just refugees were collected together. And then my grandfather had a Christian friend this time who said, ‘I'm going to go to America. Why don't you and your family live under this roof while I'm gone.’ So he literally gave him the keys to the house and it's a modest one-room house, but now the family had a house - not staying in a refugee camp. And that generosity across religious difference, like, is something that really warms me and reminds me of the power of generosity and making a difference in people's lives. And then eventually, in 1967, they had older kids now. And they had a few kids that already moved into Amman for economic opportunity. And so they left again. And this time they handed the keys back to a different Christian friend and said, you can now have the keys to our house too. And so it was, like, this generosity and paying it forward and it doesn't matter whatever the faith base is, but that you're a person who does good in the world and that you care about the world around you. I think those stories really guide me because they remind me that what I'm doing isn't an exception. It was actually an important value that my family lived to their core and that generosity is one of those things that transcends so much. And it really makes the conditions possible for us to renew our belief in humanity – for my belief in humanity.

Rachael Cerrotti: So it sounds like you were really raised to very naturally understand the space that bridges identity and community. And so dialogue work seems like that was just almost meant to be. 

Aziza Hasan: Absolutely. It's like the path was paved for me.

Rachael Cerrotti: So tell me about your dad. It sounds like he had a really profound impact in your life.

Aziza Hasan: He always – you know, whenever you had money in his pocket, he always had to give it away. It's kind of like the code by which you operate. I know that that's where he comes from. And I know that during the harder days when they didn't have food, that's how you survived. Like you literally just gave what you had and you shared it and then when other people had what they had and they they would share as well. But it seemed to be something so deep for him, like it was just kind of the way he was. And it drove me crazy because I was an entitled child who thought that he should be saving for my college fund. And he was always the person who said, God will provide when the time comes. Yet now I look at that generosity that I was raised with and, like, for something that I didn't appreciate very much while he was alive, I finally understand how much of an anchor it is to me now in how I try to live my life. 

Rachael Cerrotti: And he passed away when you were young, right?

Aziza Hasan: Yeah, he passed when I was 15 and I'm the oldest of four.

Rachael Cerrotti: So after he passed away, your family moved back to the States, right? Your mom brought you back to the Midwest?

Aziza Hasan: Yes, exactly.

Rachael Cerrotti: To Kansas. 

Aziza Hasan: Mm-Hmm. 

Rachael Cerrotti: So that must've been a culture shock.

[Laughter]

Aziza Hasan: To say the least. Yes.

Rachael Cerrotti: What was that like? I've actually never been to Kansas. So, what is Kansas like? 

Aziza Hasan: So, I mean, when we moved from Jordan. Like, Amman is actually the city that I was raised in and it was like all about dressing nice and going to coffee shops and hanging out. And like, you know, you got dressed up to go down to the little neighborhood store. Like nobody didn't dress up. And here we were, like, in Halstead, Kansas, people didn't dress up. Not like that. You know, you wore your flip-flops. And like in Jordan, you wear your flip-flops on the street, people are like, who do you think you are? Like, you're insulting people. And it was just really relaxed. And people are kind in Jordan, but people are kind in a very different way in Halstead, Kansas.

Rachael Cerrotti: What do you mean by that? Can you give me an example.

Aziza Hasan: So there's definitely like a generosity of hosting people in Amman and in general in like the Palestinian communities that we circles in. But in Kansas, literally like there's a windstorm that would pass by and I remember like huge branches from our tree were all over the yard. And, just people that we didn't even know just come and help us clean up. And it was just like a generosity connected to service. I would sometimes find myself questioning like, why are they helping us, like that's just incredible. And they literally were just helping because they were good people and they had a strong ethic of service. There's a huge Mennonite community in Halstead and that's eventually where I went to school at Bethel College. And I understand the ethic of service now. It's like a solid core value. But I hadn't ever experienced that level of service before where people were literally just helping you. They didn’t need to know anything about you. They just knew that somebody needed support and they were there.

Rachael Cerrotti: So, now just even by the time you finish college, you've grown up in a family where you're raised with a Muslim identity. You went to church with your mother and now you went to college in a Mennonite community. So I'd like to kind of jump forward a bit into your professional life, where you've experienced so much personally and then you start to bring it into a professional space. And, at one point you describe the the situation in America - the cultural situation in America - from the Muslim perspective as quote, “a sense of exceptionalism and exclusionism.” And I was wondering if you could break that down for me. I want to understand what you mean by that better.

Aziza Hasan: I think at the root of - and it's not just America, I think it's human to do this. To think that we are – to believe that we are good people. Which is, I think important. But, then we take it to a level where we're better than somebody else - that's the part that I become concerned with. And this is where I think the words of Jalāl al-Dīn Rumi are important. He reminds us that when we have a sense of self that is so big that we don't allow for the gifts and talents of other people and that we're better than others, then we have a problem. And that that's something we should be addressing individually so that our society can actually thrive with a little bit more humility. It's good to have confidence, but when we are overshadowing somebody else from a place of superiority that that is a serious danger. 

Rachael Cerrotti: When you said that, that exists all over the world - did you see that in the Middle East as well? 

Aziza Hasan: Oh, certainly. Every time, like I would walk into another culture that I still am a part of. There's always this questioning of how could this other culture that you're also a part of think that they're better than us? We're actually like amazing in all of these ways. We're the best. I think this is just a natural human tendency to love what you know.

Rachael Cerrotti: Identity is so messy. The memories we inherit can feel deeply visceral. And those memories that we inherit can be really disruptive to a community. I mean, they guide our politics in so many ways. We see wars being fought over history and memory. And to speak to some of that, I wanted to bring in the Quran which I have to admit is not a text that I am practiced at all in discussing. So I really want you to be my teacher here if you feel comfortable. But a quote that I came upon when I was reading about all your work was that you shared that the Quran emphasizes the importance of how you listen, how you respond and how you seek restitution. And I really love this emphasis on the word “how.” I think it has a lot of empowerment to it and gives us a stake in it, like it's our choice and we get to say what the future looks like. And I'm curious how this has really played into the work that you're doing with NewGround and the work that you've done in other co-existence spaces.

Aziza Hasan: The Quran really gives a roadmap of the ways that we can be together. So there's especially this verse in the Quran that says that when there is enmity between you and another, do what is better so that they may become your dearest friend.

Rachael Cerrotti: That first word that you're using - enmity?

Aziza Hasan: Yeah. Like an enemy. You have a serious dispute and you're at the point of really not liking somebody. 

Rachael Cerrotti: I never heard that word before.

Aziza Hasan: It's probably one of the clunky translations and that's the one that, like, is in my head. But yeah, someone who you clearly already are having trouble seeing value in and that you still do what is better until eventually they can be a friend. And, I see that as an important guide and a guiding force in how to be with other people. And there's so many other examples about how - like there's one in particular that is about, you know, you can have your eye for an eye. You can have your accountability if you want it. And to be forgiving is better. And, the Quran does this over and over again, where it says, you can have this and forgiveness is better. And I know that that's remarkably hard especially when we feel like we've been wronged. And what I've learned through my work is that we actually need to be able to reflect back to people to say, here's the wrong that was done. And here it is in its entirety and how it's impacted you. By naming that and giving it its due, that's how we were able to have a real conversation. Because otherwise people will just keep on holding to how they were wronged because there still hasn't been a right. By listening to each other fully, that's how we start to be able to even unpack what is so strong and takes up so much important space that if we want people to be able to release it, we have to be able to name it in its entirety.

Rachael Cerrotti: So it comes down to that honest space.

Aziza Hasan: Yeah. Fully honest, reflective and raw. That’s like connects you to a place that makes you quite vulnerable, which is really hard to do, especially when you want to appear strong in the face of what you might feel like is a solid injustice. 

Rachael Cerrotti: At NewGround, the organization you lead, all of this is talked about, worked through, put into action with young leaders in the L.A. area. So what does that look like? Who is a part of it? Tell us about NewGround. 

Aziza Hasan: So, NewGround has a program for high school students who are from all sorts of different schools across the city, but who have demonstrated some form of leadership and want to dive into bigger relationship and conversation with each other. There’s a 10 month program for them. We talk about all the hard, many hard topics, including Israel and Palestine. And then they work together on a project of impact. And the same is true for people who are professionals. So folks who are 25 to 55 who are willing to go on a very similar arc and to do a project so that we're working together and doing something to improve the world around us. And then we've more recently been able to do more work with some different religious leaders so that those religious leaders can have a safe space to talk about Israel and Palestine, so that they can continue to work together. And so it's really about creating really intentional space where people know that the conversation is coming. They can prepare for it and be mentally prepared for it and where they can both confront and compassionately listen and share and wrestle and learn alongside one another. By dealing with this harder conversation, whatever that is, we're actually able to figure out where we can continue to stay together at the table because what we see time and time again is that interfaith work can do significant harm if we're not actually dealing with the pain points. Because people can feel like they've invested so much and there's still a sense of betrayal when - when the world starts, you know, it feels like Jerusalem is on fire yet again and it hurts. It hurts on so many places. Whatever the event is like, people can feel so betrayed especially when their friends don't see the full human in front of them. If you're just looking at one side and that being able to be your full entire self and be able to say, like, I'm hurting right now, can you see me, is an essential part of how we keep people at the table.

Rachael Cerrotti: I've spent a lot of time living in Israel. I have made some of my best friends there. It's where I met my late-husband who ironically wasn't Jewish. And, as much as I have a very strong cultural connection to Israel - that land does something for my soul that other places don't. And I know that that's inside of me. I also have huge issues with the politics there. Just like I have a lot of really big issues with American politics and a lot of really big issues with other countries' politics. It's a place unlike any other in the sense that it seems like everybody I meet there regardless of what their religious, cultural, political background is – their feelings about that piece of land is so intense and it's so deeply rooted in memory. It's so deeply rooted in the stories that they heard from past generations. And you brought up the point of feeling this very deep pain. And I always find that that's where there tends to be a stopping point in conversation so many times. When the pain contradicts each other or when two people's pains, when their stories don't fit together. No one really knows where to go at that point. And then when the pain isn't even your lived experience, but something that's inherited from past generations, I think it becomes even more complicated. I mean, it certainly does for me. 

Aziza Hasan: I hear everything that you're saying. I think that there is, there is a stopping point sometimes and sometimes we do have to give things space. And, I look at many places like Northern Ireland – I've really had the pleasure of getting to know Reverend Gary Mason who has been working diligently with supporting the Good Friday Peace Accords and - and helping people working with real life pain and things that feel unforgivable that are lived experiences and some of them are historical and - and people's pain that comes from somebody else's historic pain and they reacted to it. And there's really awful consequences. And, I think it's important to be able to look at some of those models because they're out there. And the pain of loss and the pain of grief and the pain of fleeing for your life for so long, I think it deserves and demands respect of us. And, it's hard. Sometimes it's really hard and I need my own space from it. Even when I hear your grandmother's story in your book. And her like actually wanting to flee to Palestine for her own safety and being separated from her family like – yes, it's hard to hear that story. It hurts to hear that story. And it is so important that we hear it. And for us to be able to share pain together. When we silence it, that's when we do each other a solid disservice and ourselves a solid disservice because then it's just beneath the surface and it keeps rumbling and rumbling and rumbling. And we have to be able to express it so that slowly, slowly we build the capacity to be able to talk about it. 

Rachael Cerrotti: You brought up my grandmother's story and I’d love to ask you a question about it, actually. You know, my grandmother was a refugee from Czechoslovakia – Jewish refugee during World War Two. Only surviving her family. On her own from the age of 14. And as I've spent over a decade following her story and documenting it, it's all rooted, like her whole survival story is rooted in her participation in the Zionist Youth Movement. As a young kid in Czechoslovakia – was not religious, was not political, but it was like a camp program for them. So, you know, I tell my grandmother's story and all these different communities and the story always starts with the Zionist youth movement. 

Hana Dubova USC Shoah Foundation Testimony: Let's go. Let's go to Hakshara. Hakshara means preparation to toil the land in Palestine if the British would allow that. And we slept in tents in the summer camp and we ate from one metal bowl - breakfast, lunch and dinner - and we were preparing ourselves to go to Palestine. 

Rachael Cerrotti: And I find myself constantly tripping over it because what those words meant back before World War Two, back before Israel was an established country is very different than what those words mean now. And I find myself encouraging audiences to remember that words have different meanings now. And so even the way we tell stories, we're telling a story of the past, but we're bringing in reflections of the present. And so I'm wondering, in your work, how would you approach something like that? Like how - how do all of you, when you have these conversations, get through the entanglement of words meaning different things to different people and having different meanings based off of what decade your talking about them? 

Aziza Hasan: That's where the transformation lies. Because knowing that there are significant differences, we set it up so that we actually talk about the word Zionism directly because it does mean very different things at different times to different people and even to people in the room right now. And so, by the time we get to our conversation about Israel and Palestine, we have the word Zionism and we ask people to write down their – their responses of like, what are the things that come to mind for Zionism? And then we put them in a paper bag and then we write them up exactly as people wrote their reflections and then they read them in silence. And we do this with a number of other words too. And the reason why we do it is because there are these differences and to be able to see the pain in somebody's eyes when they see what we've written on the piece of paper connected to something that they love or connected to something that they don't. And to be able to see how it's impacting people that we're invested in - we're already invested in the relationship. It's actually really slowing down to take all of that in so that we can be able to move a little bit faster later. 

Rachael Cerrotti: And, you know, it kind of makes me think back to those words from the Quran that I asked you about which is, like, the importance of how you listen and how you respond because that seems to be such a good way to navigate that space of sort of emotional confusion

Aziza Hasan: Yeah, absolutely. That even in the midst of like when you're like, really upset with somebody, our traditions are really clear. There's this Hasidic teaching that says that you are in the state of greatest holiness when you have choices in front of you and you're about to make the decision. That's when you're at your most righteous, your most holy state. And then you make your decision. And so like that we slow down enough that when we are about to respond to each other and react to whatever it is that we're holding and we have the choice, that we're slowing down enough to make the choice instead of just reacting. And sometimes I personally am reacting and I have to then backtrack and say, that's not the way I wanted to be in the world. I recognize that I created a harm because I didn't take my time in acknowledging the holiness of that moment when I was supposed to make a different choice. And I'm going to try to make it right this time. And that sometimes it's about the healing and that's the path that I choose to take that I don't always get it right and that I have enough grace to make sure that I'm awarding that kind of space to other people, too.

Rachael Cerrotti: It seems like you understand that conflict can be healthy. This idea that to find this space of conflict, to acknowledge the space of conflict is actually really productive and really healthy for us to do. 

Aziza Hasan: Yeah. Actually conflict is a way of being able to say clearly what's what's not sitting right? And to clarify and to actually figure out a better way moving forward. And sometimes, like the people I'm actually closer to are the ones that I've had to do the most wrestling with. 

Rachael Cerrotti: Why is it so hard to be honest, though? To tell people we're hurting?

Aziza Hasan: I think sometimes we're worried that we're going to hurt somebody or like it's an unnecessary obstacle, like, let's just ignore it. 

Rachael Cerrotti: Mm-Hmm.

Aziza Hasan: And that in our quest to maybe appease, things start to bubble and mount. And then there's so much like, you know, we throw everything at them in the kitchen sink. And so I think it actually starts from a place of we just want to get along. And interestingly enough, by the time we get to the Israel-Palestine conversation in our cohort, we really have to push people to say, actually, if you figure out why you're upset and identify your ‘no,’ you'll be able to actually save the relationship that your care about so much because by ignoring that ‘no,’ actually, this is not OK. We are actually hurting the relationship itself. 

Rachael Cerrotti: So it's like the conflict is healthy as well as expressing your sensitivities? 

Aziza Hasan: Absolutely. 

Rachael Cerrotti: Seems like that's not just healthy, but it's necessary. 

Aziza Hasan: Mm-Hmm. 

Rachael Cerrotti: To say this hurts. 

Aziza Hasan: Exactly. Because then we know what we're dealing with. Otherwise we're just guessing. 

Rachael Cerrotti: And reacting. There is a strong reaction when you don't get it. And then I think that getting it helps you at least understand it even if you don't feel it yourself.

Aziza Hasan: Yeah. And sometimes like you think you got it, but being able to be corrected - so to be correctable – this is something actually a group called Resetting The Table talks about - that you try to reflect something back to somebody and capture the essence of what they are saying and being able to be correctable in such a way that they can still say, actually, you're you're not getting it. And having the humility to be like, I'm going to try to get it. And then, trying again after they've given you more information. That act is actually such a strong service. So like the other person then actually feel seen. I remember there's this one time I was speaking to this larger audience and one of the people in the audience was from the Hand-in-Hand school which is in Israel and has Israeli-Palestinian students and Jewish students learning side by side together and being raised together. And we were talking afterwards and he said, sometimes now what we see from our work is that we both change in the process. We both change in huge ways and we’re impacted by each other. And like, we're evolving constantly ourselves and our newer friends that we are learning alongside or being raised alongside. It's that transformation that is what kind of allows us to see the possibilities that are there. And that when we don't see our futures as so separate anymore, but actually intertwined. 

Rachael Cerrotti: And it's really quite incredible that having a friend from another culture, another religion, another language, another country really makes you feel like you know a whole new group of people, even if it's just one person. 

Aziza Hasan: Like a window.

Rachael Cerrotti: Yeah. And it sounds so simple. In theory, it sounds simple. It's like just become friends because then you care about your friends. You're invested in their well-being. These peace-building programs are such beautiful initiatives in that way where there's this and the dialog programs and the work that NewGround is doing because it really - it really confirms the belief that building relationships with one another - the simple act of spending time together, having conversations, breaking bread, being invited to each other's, traditional activities or cultural activities - really does make a difference. And it's like a ripple effect.

Aziza Hasan: Absolutely does. And it creates the conditions for us to be able to compassionately confront each other. Otherwise you're just talking to your silos and I don't know how effective that is.

Rachael Cerrotti: I was listening to some rabbi speak. I forget which community he was from. But where he was encouraging the members of his congregation for their Passover seders to invite at least two people who weren't Jewish. And I thought it was such a nice ask. And I know that you all do that in NewGround also with holidays. 

Aziza Hasan: Yeah. Absolutely. Like where it's actually this beautiful video that some of our fellows did of a Passover Seder that they made together because Moses actually is, peace-be-upon-him, is mentioned in the Quran even more than any other of the other prophets. 

Rachael Cerrotti: I had no idea. 

Aziza Hasan: Yeah. And so like the story of the Exodus is really present. They built this beautiful seder around these stories. And it's – it's like one of those other examples of how we can learn alongside each other and appreciate it. I look at the seders that I've been to and like they've helped me think about how I talk to my kids about these hard things and how important these stories are to help us hold some of the complications of our history and knowing who we are. 

Rachael Cerrotti: I like Passover for the fact that I think it continues to hold us accountable to make sure that we remember that there are people oppressed and persecuted today all around the world. And we got to be held accountable for that. Like if we're free and other people aren't, we got to reckon with that. We can retell this story about when we were once slaves and found our freedom out of Egypt. But like if we're not bringing that into our present day – what's the point? And I appreciate that opportunity for collective reflection.

Aziza Hasan: Yes. And carving out due time for it. Actually slowing down enough to hear it.

Rachael Cerrotti: For sure. And the fact that it's a community conversation that you're supposed to sit and talk about it with people who you don't normally sit at dinner with, I think is also important. Aziza, I want to thank you so much for spending time with me today. The work that you do is deeply personal to me. So outside of admiring what you do, I feel just extreme gratitude. And I also just have to believe that by doing this work, generation by generation, even if it's not ours, that you know, we're going to get there with each other. I just – I do. I really do believe it. Before we part ways today, I just want to ask you one last question, which is what is something that's happening in the world today that you think will become a memory that outlives you? 

Aziza Hasan: I know, it's such a pleasure talking to you. And I think there's this dedication to kindness that I hear in everything that you describe from this conversation to what you're putting out into the world. And, I feel like that's - that's what's going to continue well beyond me and any of us really is these stories of awarding dignity to human beings and to listen deeply because we all deserve to be listened to. I think of what my dad endured and the remarkable kindness that was always around him. When people are generous and kind whether it's with their time or with their willingness to listen, it actually creates different conditions that help us literally thrive in so many other ways, and sometimes we really do need to shine a light on people and circumstances where people helped each other out, like that Jewish man who was my grandfather's friend and the Christian man who gave him a real house. And, then how they continued to return the favor to somebody else. It's more about these acts of kindness and the act of giving people human dignity - that's what will persevere. 

OUTRO

Rachael Cerrotti: Thank you to Aziza for joining me today. You can learn more about her important work with NewGround which will be linked on our website. And I highly encourage you to watch her TedX talk – Unlocking the Courage of Curiosity. Also on our website you will see a link to a book talk I did with NewGround where the conversation was turned and Aziza interviewed me. 

The Memory Generation was created in partnership with USC Shoah Foundation which is home to more than 55,000 testimonies of survivors and witnesses of genocide. You can learn more about their work and the Visual History Archive at sfi.usc.edu.

You can find additional links, book lists, testimony clips and all types of other resources and stories on our website: memorygenerationpodcast.com. Our editor is Lene Bech Sillesen. Our executive producer and co-creator of this show is Stephen Smith. The music is from Kodomo.

I’m Rachael Cerrotti. We’ll be back next week.