In 1986 I journeyed to Poland as part of a Jewish youth heritage tour. The main destinations on our itinerary - Auschwitz, Majdanek, Treblinka and Sobibor – focused on the Nazi genocide during the Holocaust.

Squeezed into our tight program during the Cold War were a few hours of free time in Warsaw’s “Old Town.” With kippot on our heads and Jewish stars around our necks our group was readily identifiable as Jews, and, truth be told, it felt like an act of defiance to walk the streets of Warsaw as a Jew.

While most of the Polish pedestrians and shopkeepers stared at us as though they had seen a ghost, one elderly unassuming gentleman followed us around for quite some time before initiating conversation.

That he did not speak English and none of us knew Polish seemed like an insurmountable, almost comical, problem, until I recalled the word for “war” and uttered it. This stranger seemed to know that this word was punctuated with a question mark. “Where were you during the War?”

One word escaped from his lips: “Partisan.” My heart froze.

“Zjydy?” I quickly responded in Polish, “Are you Jewish?”

As soon as the word left my mouth, I immediately became embarrassed. My eyes noticed that he wore a cross. Clearly he was Christian, I thought. But even before I could retract my question, he took hold of my friend’s notebook and began to draw. He etched two tombstones, each decorated with Jewish symbols. He pointed to his sketches and said: “Mama, Papa.” From this we understood that he was born Jewish but had converted to Christianity for some reason.

Then he began pointing at my head. Finally, it occurred to me that he was not pointing at my head, rather what lay on top of it. Removing the kippah from my head, I asked him if he wanted it. He nodded.

He kissed this Jewish ritual object and lovingly placed it on his head. Tears rolled down his cheeks and those of us present.

Finally, he looked me in the eye and stated in broken English, “Pedagogue. You learn and teach the little ones.” Then this Chagall-esque stranger simply turned around and walked away.

This encounter transformed my life and influenced my aspiration to become a rabbi, teacher, and conveyor of memory. It also is the reason why I serve as the co-executive producer of "We Are Here: Songs from the Holocaust".

Conceived by my co-executive producer, Ira Antelis, the "We Are Here" concert draws from the 14 songbooks written during the Holocaust by artists in the Nazi ghettos, forests, and concentration camps.

This beautiful music is as much about love, hope, faith, and family, as it is about sadness, longing, and despair. We discover that when life was on the line during the long dark years of the Holocaust, not every thought was about death. With this in mind, on International Holocaust Remembrance Day we must not only remember the 6 million, but also celebrate their courage in the face of unimaginable cruelty and intentional evil.

Mr. Antelis and I began working on this concert after the death of Elie Wiesel, the Holocaust survivor who authored “Night.” Driven to increase Holocaust education and awareness, we confronted two contemporary realities that elevated the vital need for such an enterprise.

The first pertains to today’s astounding dearth of knowledge about the Holocaust.

According to recent surveys by The Pew Research Center and the Conference on Jewish Material Claims Against Germany (Claims Conference), American students do not possess a working knowledge of the scope of the Nazi genocide, cannot name any of the ghettos and extermination camps, and are unaware that Hitler was elected through a democratic process  in Germany.

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All of this points to a lack of Holocaust education, which is not a curricular requirement in many states. Sadly there are too few communities like Whitewall, Tennessee, committed to teaching their students about the scale of the Holocaust through their innovative and inspiring Paper Clips project.

The proliferation of hatred expressed and violence against the Jewish people represent the second reason behind the timeliness of this educational project.

According to the ADL, there has been a 360% increase in antisemitic incidents over the past two years, especially since October 7, 2023, a pogrom with the largest loss of Jewish lives since the Holocaust. But it isn’t just antisemitism; all forms of hatred, racism and bigotry are on the rise. Online and on the streets, in supermarkets, schools, college campuses, and at community celebrations, fear and hatred threaten to break the bonds of our society.

Eighty years after the Holocaust we are left wondering whether the statement “Never Again” can ever have meaning again. Over the past few years, “Never Again” has tragically become a question. With Nazis marching in Nashville, venomous social media posts, synagogues vandalized around the world, and Jews beaten and killed for wearing a kippah or Jewish star on mass transit, tragically it feels as though almost every song in these 14 songbooks of Holocaust music could have been written today.

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Written over 80 years ago, this music and their powerful message ring true for us today. In the face of daily degradation and unspeakable horror during the Holocaust, Jews tapped into a reservoir of strength, resilience, and hope, frequently expressed through song. This music creates a roadmap of how we can face uncertainty in our time. With conflict waging at home and abroad, this Holocaust concert underwent a transformation from a sacred commemoration of history to a public declaration of hope and understanding today.

“We Are Here” is purposely held in communal space to signify that the battle against hate as much as the campaign towards unity requires the efforts all of us, regardless of religion, race, and creed. In response to the hatred in our uncertain times, we invite a diverse cast of performers and presenters to sing, remember, and hope, and the response time after time, is “Yes. Count me in! We are here!”

After sold out performances at Carnegie Hall and The Salt Shed in Chicago over the last two years, “We Are Here” will be performed at Vanderbilt University in Nashville to commemorate International Holocaust Remembrance Day on January 27.

I cannot think of anything more appropriate than the 80^th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz Birkenau being explored at the Dialogue Vanderbilt program, the oldest college Holocaust education series in the United States.

Holocaust education is as much a chapter of history as a pillar of civic education. This knowledge can create awareness, prevent discrimination, and build bridges in civic society at a time when we need it most. Equally important, programs like “We Are Here” provides us with the opportunity to fulfill our shared responsibility to “learn and teach the little ones” one song at a time.

Rabbi Charles E. Savenor, the co-executive producer of the “We Are Here: Songs from the Holocaust”, serves as the executive director of Civic Spirit, a nonpartisan organization that provides training and resources to faith based schools across the United States.

This article originally appeared on Nashville Tennessean: Holocaust Remembrance Day show 'We Are Here' keeps memory alive