The one and only thing on my list of what I wanted to do while in Amsterdam was to go to the Ann Frank House. I remember reading her story, it was in 7th grade in my extra help reading class. We had the best full time sub, who’s name I can’t even remember her name but she was super nice and understanding. We all needed that in the room. I remember reading it, and also thinking about how I was learning about this in my social studies classes. However, this wasn’t a history book, it wasn’t filled with facts or dates, or important names. This was a story, someone’s own words, so insightful, it was a true experience that gave you chills. Also made you sick for the fact that this actually happen.
We stood in a long line, for the only day that was grey and cold but it was worth the wait. I was so excited and ready for what was about to happen.
We started with a white room with only pictures of Ann Frank and a quote from her diary. Now, we weren’t allow to take pictures but this quote was the start of the real, hunting truth to what happening here.
The house was the actually house that Ann Frank and her family members hide in for two (three?) years. There was no furniture in the house, but they showed what they house did look like. The whole walk through the house felt isolating, dark, scary because you could not escape that people actually lived here, could not go outside, couldn’t even open the window for fear of there own lives. Every room had artefacts, videos, and Ann Frank’s words on the wall. It was an emotional ride, and for someone who was only 13 she was wise, full of happiness and life even with hate towards her for no reason but for her religion value.
After reading the book and learning about the facts of World War two i I thought her story was a good way to see how those experiences, how hate, how fear, can effect others. Now 14 years since reading the book seeing Ann Frank’s house I realise that nothing has changed outside her house since the time she wrote in her diary.
You get what I am saying? I am not one for conflict, not one for politics because its a yelling, get no where battle. But, after being in Ann Frank’s house; walking where she walked, seeing where she lived. And her words on the walls, voices echoing. I couldn’t help but feel how real and relevant it all was. And its 2016. I’m so glad I got to go to her house during this time because it made me realise how we need Ann Franks words more then ever.
That’s all I am going to say.
What I really want this post to be about is Ann Frank house and my experience there. Because her story, her book, it made me want to write stories real and true. With a powerful female character who won’t let anything, stop her from living her life. Because Ann Frank made the best out of a bad situation.
If you are every in Amsterdam go to Ann Frank house, the experience is one that you will be so glad you had. Because you really do get to walk in her shoes.