When I was ten years old, my parents took me to visit the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum in Washington, D.C. The first exhibit we walked through was Daniel’s Story, which is meant to explain to children the horrors of the Holocaust without graphic imagery, without analysis of antisemitism, and lacking sufficient information on the destruction of European Jewry. Needless to say, I was calm, cool and collected, along with the other children around me. I remember feeling confused as to why the other children did not follow me into the rest of the museum. Once my family entered the...