לִזְכֹּר⁠

Remember

Tattooed by: Natali Seki, Seattle, Washington, USA

Many people tell me that they want a tattoo to honor or remember someone. Alexis from Maryland was one such.⁠

She wrote: "I’ve been thinking about getting a small, simple Hebrew tattoo for the words “remember” to honor my Russian and German Jewish heritage. I really like the design of the pin I got at the holocaust museum in DC a couple of years ago. I’ve thought about it a lot and I think I’d like to go with a flower design. Maybe a crimson rose?"⁠

After seeing an image of the pin Alexis spoke of, David said: “What's on the pin is the word "remember" in its male imperative form. It became a kind of symbol that orders everyone to remember the Holocaust. We can use this word, or, if you prefer, the female form. Alternatively, we can incorporate the infinitive form "to remember", which is gender-neutral, and the message is less of order and more of a reminder.”⁠

Alexis chose the gender-neutral option:⁠

לִזְכֹּר⁠
Remember⁠

In the end, Alexis’ rose looks entirely different from the pin she got in DC. But the idea of remembering as a deeply Jewish act, is the same. As Jews, we put a lot of emphasis on remembering the past. Memory, tradition, preservation, all those play central roles in our identity. And while all traditions inevitably preserve (that’s just a tautology), the Jewish tradition is more conscious about it, making the act of remembering more present, more explicit than other traditions I experienced.

I am a little bit torn about this issue. On one hand, it seems like modernity, with its extreme emphasis on individualism, a road some of the ground we stand us, as collective beings. If we don't have a past, it's hard to know who we are, in the present. The Jewish answer, remembering, is the perfect antidote to it. On the other hand, I feel that we might overdo it, a bit, as a people. When remembering is the goal, rather than a tool, it's easy to get stuck. I feel like maybe sometimes, we would be better off letting go of some of the collective baggage we shlep around.