Elie Wiesel’s life and words remind us that stories often have the power to reveal our true reality to us and call us to action. Wiesel was more than just a survivor: he was a teacher, a writer, and also a voice for those no longer able to speak. His legacy challenges us to look closely at our own choices and asks whether silence makes us part of the problem. In this week’s blog, Rae Daniels, a senior from Austin Peay Middle College in Clarksville, TN, reflects on Wiesel’s journey and explores what we can learn from him.
A Voice Against Silence: What We Can Learn from Elie Wiesel
Elie Wiesel is a survivor of the Holocaust and a voice for the voiceless. He dedicated his life to justice, remembrance, and humanity. His story serves not just as a tragic chapter of history but also as a reminder of the cost of indifference and silence. To fully understand the depth of his legacy, we have to look back at where his story began—long before the world knew his name.
Wiesel was born on September 30, 1928, in Sighet, Transylvania (now Romania), where he was surrounded by tradition, family, and faith. At a young age, encouraged by those around him, he devoted himself to exploring Hebrew literature, sacred Jewish texts, studying religion, and eventually the Kabbalah, the magical tradition of Judaism. He was not motivated just by learning but rather by the wonder that filled his childhood. Events that no human should ever have to endure would soon consume that wonder.
In May 1944, at just fifteen years old, Wiesel and his family were deported to Auschwitz, one of the Nazis’ most infamous concentration camps. Upon arrival, the Nazis separated his mother and younger sister from him and his father and sent them to their deaths. Wiesel became A-7713 and was stripped of his humanity. He and his father endured forced labor, starvation, and constant brutality. These horrors that became everyday routine shook his faith. He often questioned why God had abandoned them. Later, he and his father were transferred to Buchenwald, where the conditions grew harsher. In January 1945, he would lose his father due to starvation and dysentery, just months before liberation.
However, for Wiesel, liberation was not an ending but a beginning. For years, he struggled with silence, uncertain if he could ever put into words the sheer atrocities he experienced. Eventually, he found the strength to write Night (originally published in 1958), his memoir that bears witness to the suffering of millions. In its pages, he does not soften the truth. He writes, “Never shall I forget that night, the first night in camp, which has turned my life into one long night,” capturing the way the memory became inescapable (Wiesel 34). Through Night, he broke the silence not only for himself but also for those who could no longer speak. The true power of the memoir is that it tells of unimaginable suffering while reminding us how easily humanity can be lost when we remain silent. When I read Night, I felt more than just disturbed—I felt heartbroken. I felt for Wiesel, I felt sorrowful for the lives lost, and I felt upset that we as a society did not do more to stop this from happening.
Decades later, Wiesel used his platform to challenge the world more directly. On April 12, 1999, he delivered his famous speech, “The Perils of Indifference,” at the White House. It was here that he warned, “Indifference is not a beginning; it is an end. And, therefore, indifference is always the friend of the enemy, for it benefits the aggressor—never his victim . . . ” He ultimately warns humanity of the dangers of indifference, arguing that indifference is worse than hatred itself. His words challenged leaders and citizens alike to reject passivity and take moral responsibility. Reading his work made me wonder how often I excuse myself by saying, “It’s not my problem.” How many times have I contributed to injustice by staying silent, simply believing it was an innocent act?
Wiesel became not only an author of novels and speeches but also a global advocate for human rights. He spoke out against injustice wherever it appeared, from apartheid in South Africa to genocide in Bosnia. He would go on to be awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 1986, where he was recognized as a voice who reminded the world of its duty to remember and act against injustice.
Although he has passed, his life’s work makes it clear that remembering must be paired with action. His words leave us with no excuse, only a question: as students and citizens, how will we choose to respond to injustice in our society?
Natalee Daniels, who prefers to go by her middle name, Rae, lives in Clarksville, TN, and is a senior at Austin Peay Middle College. She has been an active member of the National English Honor Society (NEHS) for two years and currently serves as the 2025–2026 President. Rae is committed to learning and is highly self-motivated. In her free time, she enjoys exploring diverse genres and writing styles. Outside of academics, she is very family-oriented and loves traveling. One of her favorite activities is going to the movies with her family.
National English Honor Society
The National English Honor Society (NEHS), founded and sponsored by Sigma Tau Delta, is the only international organization exclusively for secondary students and faculty who, in the field of English, merit special note for past and current accomplishments. Individual secondary schools are invited to petition for a local chapter, through which individuals may be inducted into Society membership. Immediate benefits of affiliation include academic recognition, scholarship and award eligibility, and opportunities for networking with others who share enthusiasm for, and accomplishment in, the language arts.
America’s first honor society was founded in 1776, but high school students didn’t have access to such organizations for another 150 years. Since then, high school honor societies have been developed in leadership, drama, journalism, French, Spanish, mathematics, the sciences, and in various other fields, but not in English. In 2005, National English Honor Society launched and has been growing steadily since, becoming one of the largest academic societies for secondary schools.
As Joyce Carol Oates writes, “This is the time for which we have been waiting.” Or perhaps it was Shakespeare: “Now is the winter of our discontent made glorious summer . . .” we celebrate English studies through NEHS.
National English Honor Society accepts submissions to our blog, NEHS Museletter, from all membership categories (students, Advisors, and alumni). If you are interested in submitting a blog, please read the Suggested Guidelines on our website. Email any questions and all submissions to: submit@nehsmuseletter.us.
