As a writer of novels about World War II, I regularly visit secondary schools. I often ask students if they know the Second World War history of their (great) grandparents. A boy of about fourteen then told about his great-grandmother who had been in hiding for a while. It was a vague story, I didn’t understand it well. Nor himself.
“Are you Jewish?” I asked.
“No,” he said. “I am for Feyenoord.”
Readers are the authors of this column. An Ikje is a personal experience or anecdote in a maximum of 120 words. Submit via [email protected]
A version of this article also appeared in the newspaper on July 20, 2023.