Rosanna Weaver is programme manager for executive compensation As You Sow.
*****
Her face looks at the camera in a way that
is totally different to how teenagers take selfies now. There’s no elaborate
expression, but there is, for some reason, a hint of a smile. Maybe the
instinct to smile when a camera is pointed overcomes her in the moment.
But this is not a sharable moment. Her name
is Czesława Kwoka, and her photograph has been colorized, but even in the black
and white original the uniform of Auschwitz-Birkenau is unmistakable.
The colorization is by Brazilian artist Marina Amaral, and it brings to
life a young person who died many years ago. Her face stares out at us across
the decades. In one photograph, she wears her camp-issued headscarf and looks
up and to the side. She is pretty, but she is thin. Her hair is roughly cut
short. Her lip is cut. The photographer who takes her pictures later testifies
that she has just been beaten by a guard. Later, when he is ordered to destroy
them, The photographer risks his life to save some of the pictures, including
those of Czesława.
She is deported to Auschwitz, along with
her mother in 1942. It’s not clear why, her family is Catholic, not Jewish, but
her uniform has a red triangle alongside her prisoner number, that means
political enemy, so it’s possible that someone in her family is in some
organization that the Nazis dislike.
She’d be 92 now if she had survived. She might still be alive, lots of people live to be 92 or older.
But she does not survive. All that remain
of her are those three photographs, now colorized, staring out from our new
technology, and our wondering of what she might make of this new world.
She arrives in Auschwitz in December 1942.
Some weeks later, in February 1943, someone decides that her life isn’t worth
her reaching 92, or reaching one more day. They inject phenol, a poisonous
acid, into her heart.