For our final destination, we made our way to Berlin, Germany. Since learning about the Holocaust Memorial in Berlin during the spring semester, I had been intrigued to see it in person. From photos online, I couldn’t fathom how anyone could believe it was enough to memorialize the millions killed in the Holocaust—especially in the very city that orchestrated so much of the genocide.
I was hoping that seeing it in person would reveal a deeper meaning. And while I’ve been slightly swayed by the experience, I still feel that the memorial misses the mark. When you first walk into the memorial, you’re confronted by hundreds of gray concrete blocks of varying heights, arranged in a grid pattern over uneven, rolling ground. It’s disorienting, bleak, and confusing. I understand that this effect is intentional—to evoke a sense of unease, perhaps even to mimic the emotional dislocation and fear experienced by victims.
But my issue is that it’s not enough. It’s not enough to feel slightly disoriented for a few minutes and then walk away unchanged. It’s not enough to leave visitors grasping for meaning, as my cohort and I did, having to work hard to interpret the symbolism, even as highly educated individuals. I think of the general population, like the children running through the blocks as if it’s a playground, and the adults lounging on the stones as though they were benches. It’s disrespectful, yes, but I can’t entirely blame them. The design doesn’t do enough to demand solemnity or reflection. It doesn’t evoke the kind of emotional weight such a tragedy requires.
If Berlin is going to dedicate multiple acres of prime city space to memorializing the Holocaust, it must be done in a way that commands attention, that communicates the magnitude of the atrocity, and that makes forgetting impossible. A memorial should not be a puzzle or a passive structure—it should stir something deep, uncomfortable, and unforgettable. The Holocaust was not abstract. It was systematic, brutal, and real. Its victims deserve more than concrete ambiguity. They deserve a memorial that pierces through time and place—a memorial that doesn’t just sit in the heart of a city, but in the hearts of all who encounter it.