O for Other. When we see someone as inferior to us or as someone we want to exclude, this has been described as “othering”  by thinkers and activists. Othering can be used to instil fear of other cultures, religions, ethnic groups and genders. We need to be aware of this manipulation as it is the enemy of freedom to express the diversity in our human nature. Stolperstein are a memorial to the lives lost by “othering” in the Second World War. Here I explore stumbling blocks, diversity, my Ulster motivation and Irish connections to Ravensbrueck Concentration Camp.

Stumbling Block

Another bout of Anti-Semitism takes me back to 2010. Researching my novel based in Berlin during the Second World War brought me to a stumbling block – how to find a way which makes connections between the Holocaust and me. I cannot put myself in the shoes of victims or survivors without a sense of trespass on another’s pain. I reached a blank in my search for the stories of the Irish women imprisoned in Ravensbrueck concentration camp not far from here where I stand in Mueller Strasse. I am in search of a Stolperstein in a street in Berlin. Stolper=stumble and stein= stone and the word has been transformed into a memorial.  I stumble into the hither and thither of myself – located somewhere between the front door in Strabane in 1950’s Ulster and the back door to Berlin and city life after the wall came down.

My Ulster motivation

When I returned to Ireland after living away for 29 years, I chose Donegal – the homeplace of my grandfather where I had never lived. I wanted to fulfil a dream to live in the country and write. My portable career in European Community Development and the internet had made the move to Donegal possible. When I stopped working in 2009,  I kept the European back door open for regular visits to and from Berlin and my life partner there. Our visit to the Ravensbrueck concentration camp near Berlin had given me the idea for a novel when I found out about the four Irish women among the many nationalities imprisoned there. My desire to write fiction had re-emerged and combined with my desire to understand fascism better. But the self-doubt that I carried with me when I left Ulster re-emerged again.

In 1972, my Zoroastrian-Persian-Iranian boyfriend, who believed in me more than I believed in myself bought me a typewriter before he left for Teheran. We knew I would not survive as a woman in Iran although I got on well with his parents. Sohrab encouraged my writing ambitions and  suggested I take a touch-typing course after graduation. I left Belfast after the typing course with a sense of guilt and with my favourite poet, Louis Mc. Niece ringing in my ears.

In cock-wattle sunset or grey Dawn when the dagger  Points again of longing. For what was never home We needs must turn away From the voices that cry ‘Come,’ That under-sea ding-donging.

Ulster was no longer home as sectarianism had expanded its pterodactyl wings into a demagoguery we thought impossible as students demonstrating on the streets for Civil Rights. The People’s Democracy were based on non-violence and equal rights. OK  our slogans in 1968 –  ONE MAN ONE VOTE: TORIES OUT NORTH AND SOUTH  tells you how naïve we were. Working in London to earn my living with evenings exploring social and political ideas meant my desire to write fiction was postponed. The first postponement of many.

Stumbling stones in Berlin

The significance of the stolperstein brings a tumble of words and images from my history and my fascination with the ME in YOU and the YOU in ME often disguised by emphasis on individual identity. I reach out to plug into the energy of a tree on Muller Strasse where I have parked my bike and stepped on dog shite. It may look like I admire the bark but I am counting the years and the failures. Where did civil rights go wrong? Did my naivete then contribute to a rise in street sectarianism which appeared to be decreasing slowly in the 1950’s and 1960’s? The  peace walls of the Troubles are  still standing long past the Belfast Peace Agreement in 1998.

Back on the bike down Muller Strasse, I find a stolperstein outside the Catholic Church in Mitte, once the former East – a Catholic priest who reminds me of  Pastor Niemoller – whose text was etched on my heart long before I met my life partner, Schorse in 1998.

First they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out – because I was not a socialist.

Then they came for the trade unionists, and I did not speak out – because I was not a trade unionist.

Then they came for the Jews and I did not speak out – because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for me – and there was no-one left to speak for me.

The search for the other in me determined my career choices and created a fascination with “how could THEY  do it?” which over the years became “how can WE humans participate in the destruction of humanity by our actions or inaction?

 So, what does the stolperstein at my feet stand for?

Stolpersteine/stumble-stones/ stumbling blocks are not rough stones. The small brass plaques are set in ten-centimetre concrete cubes and inscribed with the name and life dates of victims of Nazi extermination or persecution. Wikipedia reminds me of the German artist  Gunter Demnig who in 1992 set out to “ commemorate individuals at exactly the last place of residency—or, sometimes, work—which was freely chosen by the person before he or she fell victim to Nazi terror, or escaped persecution by emigration or suicide. As of December 2019, 75,000 Stolpersteine have been laid, making the Stolpersteine project the world’s largest decentralized memorial.”

These Stolpersteine are a memorial to:

Jewish people

Sinti people  (sometimes referred to as Gypsies/Zigeuner)

Romani people (sometimes referred to  Gypsies/Zigeuner)

Homosexuals

People with mental or physical disability

Jehovah’s Witnesses

People with black skin colour

Members of Communist Party

Members of Social Democratic Party

Members of Anti-Nazi Resistance

Catholics

Protestants

Freemasons

International Brigade soldiers in Spanish Civil War

Deserters from military

Conscientious Objectors

People who helped others to escape

Capitulators

Criminals

People who engaged in “anti-social” activities e.g., prostitutes

Looters

People charged with treason or military disobedience

Allied Soldiers

I would add all those we call Other.

Each brass plate is polished like carefully tended gravestones. Every year Schorse joins a group which is guided to all those in their neighbourhood. They are a memorial and also reminder of how we continue on our way without learning from the stumbling blocks to human rights. Each one has a story connecting US to THEM.

I thought I had found my way of making a connection with the help of the stories of the Irish women imprisoned in Ravensbrueck but when I rang the Irish Embassy in 2005, they said the Irish women had probably worked with the British.. I  decided to create a fictional character from Leitrim and used her voice to share the true story of the Zigeuner/Gypsy woman torn limb from limb by other women in her block and the story of the Jehovah’s Witnesses who were the first inmates of Ravensbrueck My novel Bone and Blood was published in English in 2014. Its publication led me to Cathi Fleming who is researching an Irish nun who worked in the resistance. Her story has led to others. In 2025 we will commemorate Irish women survivors of Ravensbrueck.