Holocaust Memorial Museum Shooting:
One Contributor’s Reaction
Visiting the Hall of Witness at the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum
(photo by Alan Gilbert, courtesy of USHMM Photo Archives)
By Rebecca Park, Contributor
After the dramatic shooting June 10 at the Holocaust Memorial Museum, it is difficult to not feel helpless, especially in face of a media-storm that, with constant updates yet little new information, raises many questions rarely answered. Where does hate like this come from? How do we monitor a vast Netscape that allows such bitter bigotry to spread? And how do we control the firearms that lead to such tragedy?
But there is a question that not enough people are asking: What does an event like this mean for the Museum?
By the term “Museum”, I mean both specific and general definitions. There are the particulars of the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, a solemn monument to the countless victims of senseless murder, protecting their memory so as to create the freer world that was closed to them. But also the vague, broad ideal of the Museum—a sacred, inviolable place guaranteeing liberty of intellectual exchange.
No matter the specialization, every museum is founded on the same principle: to advance a particular field of study and make that subject area accessible to a more general public. Art museums, for example, present the development of media and movements through history, both for the enlightenment and enjoyment of professional critics and tourist amateurs alike. At its center, the museum is about communicating with everyone, regardless of background.
This kind of open institution is, unfortunately, few and far between, rendering our museums even more valuable. Where else can we engage in a dialogue with each other in a neutral space that respects all experiences and encourages debate? Without this free exchange of information, how can we ever hope to achieve some kind lasting cross-cultural stability? Although often overlooked, these places of sharing and education are the unassuming keystone of diplomacy. Why else would embassies across the globe use their space not just for obtaining visas, but also for hosting art exhibits, concerts and other events representative of their national culture?
The Holocaust Memorial Museum takes that mission one step further, actively encouraging education on a topic difficult for many. Thanks to its exhibits, special events and ongoing research, it approaches its objectives of stymieing hate and violence with ceaseless vigor. Its diversity of visitors—heads of states, school groups, families and individuals from around the world—attest to the success of its goals, bringing together a grand cross-section of society that might otherwise not have the occasion to engage each other and the tragic history recounted there.
When James von Brunn entered the Memorial Museum, gun in hand and violent intentions at heart, he breached more than basic concepts of security, lawfulness and ethical behavior. He violated our trust in the museum institution. Our collective cultural unconsciousness acknowledges the museum as a safe space, where all can come together and nurture the intellect. Interest and admiration for the histories, talents and ideas of those who came before go alongside respect for the fellow visitor. Security guard Stephen Tyrone Johns opened the door for von Brunn out of the politeness that comes from the day-to-day experience of working with inquisitive minds who demand nothing more than a few peaceful hours to mediate and consider the history presented, distant from their own personal experience but appreciated just the same.
The reverberations of such a violent incident disturb our complacent trusting museum attitudes. Yet there is comfort to be found in the quick response of security guards who sacrificed their own personal safety to protect the lives and minds of total strangers. Their actions are a reminder to us all of the readiness we must exhibit in face of challenges to our cultural institutions. Museums, our secular shrines to calm, reasoned exchange—between artists and admirers, survivors and strangers, the past and present—reserve for us a small corner where we can approach each other in the hopes of better understanding. They aren’t promising world peace but do offer us that small individual step towards a freer future.
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