Chapter 29 in Illustration

Though we have, of course, learned about the Holocaust before, its study has never impacted me as much as it did this year. After reading the Diary of Anne Frank in elementary school, I became obsessed with learning about the Holocaust and its victims. I couldn't understand how this could have happened, and remember asking my fourth-grade Social Studies teacher how people could have let all of those people die. However, reading all of the Holocaust-themed novels and even biographies in the world could not compare to the experience of hearing the story from the mouth of a Holocaust survivor. Even writing about it now, I still can't believe I actually shook his hand, talked to him, listened to his story. At the same time, it was more unnerving than ever. He reminded me of a cute little grandpa, and from the moment he came onto the stage until the final applause, my eyes were swimming with tears. My head raced as I thought of the people exactly like you and me, exactly like Mr. Lurie, exactly like my parents and grandparents who died through persecution, who STILL are dying through persecution in Darfur and various hotspots. I couldn't help but cry when I saw this picture, because ever since that day with Mr. Lurie, every time I see these images, I see my family's faces, my friends' faces, my teachers' faces, my OWN face on these crippled and starved corpses. It makes me want nothing more than to change the world.

Although there have been various controversies over this photograph, I choose to believe in its reality. Whether or not this man or that man was truly standing where in the original photo, the overall idea is important. As far as historical photography goes, this is one of my favorite representations of the United States. My grandfather was a Marine stationed at Iwo Jima, and I'm really proud of all that they accomplished.

This picture shows a young Japanese child, brutally burned and ultimately murdered by the United States and World War II. But it was not guns or swords that killed this innocent being. It was a weapon that, until this point, had only been spoken of. This weapon was the atomic bomb. On August 6, 1945, the U.S. dropped two bombs on Japan in an attempt to end the war for good. This child was one of the many to die a tragic death at the hands of the U.S. Can this be compared to the situation in Iraq, where innocent children also die every day? Does destruction ever truly bring peace? And, ultimately: do the ends justify the means?