First they came

Martin Neimüller, 1952

       For many years, I had a copy of Martin Neimüller’s poem First they came, taped on my office door. I was a young college professor when I first came upon his poem which begins,

First they came for the Communists
And I did not speak out
Because I was not a Communist . . .

      I am what is called a “red diaper baby,” the child of Communists who were targets of the red baiting of the 1940’s and 1950’s, hunted down by Senator Joe McCarthy’s House Un-American Activities Committee and often jailed or fired from jobs. I learned at an early age about the silence of bystanders and consequences of being a target of government led persecution.

      The poem goes on to say, “Then they came for the socialists; then they came for the trade unionists, then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out because I wasn’t a Jew, and then they came me for and there was no one left to speak out for me.”

      I used this poem as a way to underscore the consequences of remaining on the sidelines, silent, uninformed or disinterested, when the lives of others are in jeopardy, and to point out that under an authoritarian government, everyone is in danger of moving suddenly from a sense of belonging to the reigning regime, to being scorned and excoriated as “other,” an outcast and thus judged guilty for the woes of the country.

      I was teaching about the importance of community, responsibility, critical thinking and civil engagement before these ideas were incorporated into the pedagogy now called social justice education, long before the publication of the concepts that comprise Critical Race Theory and before the initials DEI (Diversity Equity/Excellence Inclusion) were manipulated to evoke a kind of disdain and contempt, similar to what  the word Jew symbolized during the Nazi regime, and before interpretations of the term woke became a call to arms.

      I am now retired, with the honorific Professor Emeriti. I am proud of the work I did for almost 40 years, engaging adults in understanding how societal factors limited or expanded their opportunities, and underscoring their responsibility as human service professionals to address the historical and contemporary systemic limitations on others.

      While my language may paint a picture of a stiff academic scenario, the classroom experience was anything but, with the outcome always the same: people came to understand how systemic factors shaped their own lives and to find deep connections with others who, on the surface may have seemed “different,” but with whom they found profound similarities and understanding. The more our understanding of each other grew, the louder the laughter became. Knowledge is not only power, but it is also a source of joy and satisfaction.

      Several days ago, following a tragic airplane crash, our current government informed us that a significant cause of the crash was DEI. The unspoken message: competence does not and cannot reside in those we, the determiners of what is right or wrong, say are not competent. Further, the misguided focus on bringing “them”—the DEI “others”—into work as important as being an air traffic controller degraded the quality of work and therefore led to a tragedy.

      Really?

      The years and years of fighting to ensure that everyone has opportunities for success, to dispel stereotypes and untruths about gender, race, economic background, sexual orientation and physical and psychological limitations, and demonstrating that differences strengthen communities and organizations, seems to have disintegrated in the fireball of the crash.

      During the 1930s, decent German citizens absorbed the fear-mongering about Jews and took those lies to be the truth. Some held tight to those lies. Others, for varied reasons, raised questions and those once-solid members of the Nazi regime were quickly treated like everyone else who was identified as a threat.

      Among this group was Martin Neimüller, once a supporter of Hitler, who had called Jews despised people and Christ killers. His questions referred only to Christian concerns, but were questions, nonetheless. He was jailed and released seven months later.

      Arrested again by the Gestapo, the secret police, in 1937 he was sent to Sachsenhausn concentration camp. In 1941 he was sent to Dachau, where he stayed until transferred to a camp in Austria shortly before the end of the war.

      His story is a reminder that people often do not fall neatly into a category of good or bad. His poetry, a cautionary tale, is born of his own experiences, and offers some understanding of how the Holocaust happened.

      I am 78. While I would not describe myself as arrogant, I have been confident that I knew well the lessons of the Holocaust, and the warnings offered by people like Martin Neimüller. I have been confident that I would not be the person left at the end, waiting for someone to speak for me. Rather, I would recognize the footprint of authoritarianism, block its path and speak out.

      As I write, the authoritarianism engulfing the USA seems to have moved in and covered our nation like a morning tide. Even though forecasted through Project 2025 and the words of the president and vice president, the infusion of huge sums of money and the barrage of executive orders slashing, dismantling and abandoning long-standing practices, policies and positions, signals that there is no limit to the amount of money and pressure that will be applied to anyone or anything standing in the way of the agenda of the current administration.

      I try every day to find joy, to stay informed and to remain hopeful in the strength of ordinary people to overcome and defeat tyranny.

      Today, what I can do is share my thoughts, knowing they will receive a varied reception. “First they came for me” suggests tyranny happens sequentially…first this then that. Now I realize, they have already come for us, and I must speak out.

   JoAnne Jones was a college professor for 40 years, focused on teaching about social justice. While recovering from a violent assault, she discovered the healing power of writing, published a memoir (“Headstrong: Surviving a traumatic brain injury,” 2019) and is now completing a novel.