Tuesday, July 29, 2014

A00048 - Yehuda Nir, Psychiatrist and Holocaust Survivor

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Dr. Yehuda Nir in the library of his Manhattan apartment in 2004. He called his porcelain figurines “the toys I never had.” CreditJohn Lei for The New York Times
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Dr. Yehuda Nir, a psychiatrist whose childhood was shaped by having to masquerade as a Roman Catholic in German-occupied Poland to escape Nazi persecution, an ordeal that he turned into a well-received memoir and that guided him in treating victims of trauma, died on Saturday at his home in Manhattan. He was 84.
His death was announced by his daughter, Sarah Maslin Nir.
Dr. Nir emerged from World War II with a deep sense of the injustice that had been done to his family and a mission to heal the impact of calamity in others — what is known today aspost-traumatic stress disorder. He did groundbreaking work in the psychological treatment of terminally ill children and also studied how the suffering of parents is transmitted to their children. Many of his patients in private practice were Holocaust survivors or the children of survivors.
His approach to treatment often had its roots in his almost daily wartime terror. As he chronicled in his 1989 memoir, “The Lost Childhood: The Complete Memoir,” he had to deny who he was in order to survive. He learned to recite Catholic prayers, genuflected every time he passed a church and even won an audition to serve as an altar boy. His father was murdered with other Jews in the first week the Germans occupied the Polish city of Lvov. More than once he suffered agonizing hunger.
At one point, while working for a German dentist, he asked a colleague what day Christmas would be that year. She inferred that he was not Catholic and threatened to expose him. Desperate, he warned he would reveal her affair with the dentist — something he thought he was inventing. It turned out that the woman was indeed having an affair, and she never revealed that he was a Jew.
“It felt great to outwit 80 million Germans who wanted to murder an 11-year-old boy,” he said in a 1990 interview. “It’s given me a tremendous feeling. I present it as a psychological victory.”
He pointedly spurned the tendency to ascribe the Holocaust to Nazis and preferred blaming Germans in general, since he felt the nation as a whole was culpable. Six million Jews were not killed, he would say; they were murdered.
Dr. Nir served as a chief of child psychiatry at Memorial Sloan-Kettering Cancer Center from 1979 to 1986. His wife, Dr. Bonnie Maslin, a psychologist, said he had taken on the emotionally wrenching work of treating families facing the approaching death of a child, especially the ill children themselves. He also counseled staff members who were unsettled by such cases.
He often talked about the lingering impact of the war years, “the sadness of being deprived of a childhood” and his “acute” awareness that his father was not there to appreciate his joy at the births of his children. Later in life, when he became a serious collector of kitschy porcelain figurines, he explained to an interviewer that they were “the toys I never had.”
Yehuda Nir was born on March 31, 1930, in Lvov, Poland, known today as Lviv in Ukraine, into a rug manufacturer’s family prosperous enough to have servants. The family’s name was originally Gruenfeld, which Dr. Nir changed after the war because of its German origins. (Nir is Hebrew for plowed field.)
What was left of his comfortable life was upended in June 1941, when the Germans invaded the eastern half of Poland, which had been occupied by the Soviet Union. With their Ukrainian collaborators, the Germans began mass roundups and machine-gun executions of Jewish men. Yehuda, his mother and his older sister, Lala, were left to cope on their own (they learned of the execution of a 6-year-old cousin) and planned their escape.
They obtained forged Catholic identity papers through Lala’s boyfriend and decided to make their way to another city, where no one would recognize them as Jews — first to Krakow, then Warsaw. The family was forced into labor on a German farm but eventually freed by the advancing Russians.
The family made its way to British-mandate Palestine on false papers, where Yehuda, whose education had stopped at the fifth grade, taught himself English by practicing lines from “Macbeth.” He studied medicine at Hebrew University Hadassah Medical School and spent time at a medical school in Vienna, using money his sister received as gifts for her wedding.
Besides his daughter, Sarah, a reporter for The New York Times, and his wife, Dr. Maslin, Dr. Nir is survived by their son, David, the political director of the Daily Kos website; two sons from a first marriage, Daniel, a private investor, and Aaron, the chief executive of the Charlotte Ronson clothing line; and four grandchildren.
Although he came to the United States in 1959 for medical residencies in Philadelphia and New York, Dr. Nir remained fervently engaged with Israel. Dr. Maslin, with whom he wrote four self-help books on relationships, said that when the 1973 Yom Kippur War broke out, he postponed their wedding to travel to Israel and worked with psychologically stricken soldiers.
At a Holocaust conference, he befriended Gottfried Wagner, the great-grandson of the composer Richard Wagner, whose anti-Semitic writings had been adopted by Nazi propagandists. Mr. Wagner helped mold Dr. Nir’s memoir into an opera composed by Janice Hamer with a libretto by Mary Azrael. It includes a conversation between two psychiatrists — a son of Nazi sympathizers and one who spent his childhood as a hidden Jew.

Saturday, July 12, 2014

A00047 - Lillian Rubin, Sociologist and Psychotherapist



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Lillian B. Rubin in 1989.CreditFred R. Conrad/The New York Times

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Lillian B. Rubin, a sociologist and psychotherapist who wrote a series of popular books about the crippling effects of gender and class norms on human potential, died June 17 at her home in San Francisco. She was 90.
Her daughter, Marci Rubin, confirmed the death.
Dr. Rubin wrote a dozen books and hundreds of magazine and online articles in later years that explored the fault line between the received truths of contemporary life and people’s real lives.
She asked why the American dream was a Sisyphean heartbreak for so many in “Worlds of Pain: Life in the Working-Class Family”(1976), examined the identity crisis of middle-aged women in“Women of a Certain Age: The Midlife Search for Self” (1979) and considered why marriage so often fails in “Intimate Strangers: Men and Women Together” (1983).
The first expectation gap she plumbed, she said, was her own. She graduated from high school at 15 but was 39 before she enrolled in college. By landing a secretarial job straight out of high school, she said, she had fulfilled her family’s highest expectations.
“For a girl of my generation and class, college was not a perceived option,” she wrote in the introduction to “Worlds of Pain.” To her mother, a seamstress, “a daughter who worked at a typewriter in a ‘clean’ office — yes, this was a high achievement.”
She was married at 19, had a daughter and worked at various jobs for over 20 years before beginning her university studies in 1963. By the early 1970s, she had become a clinical psychotherapist and earned a Ph.D. in sociology from the University of California, Berkeley.
Insights she gained from her own reinvention set the course for much of her later research, she wrote.
Her books examined not only how grand social forces limit individuals’ expectations, but also how some teachers, religious leaders and parents enforce those limits, burdening children with debased views of themselves.
In “The Transcendent Child: Tales of Triumph Over the Past” (1996), Dr. Rubin explored why some people are crushed by such impediments in early life and why others manage to overcome them.
“I experienced all the insecurity of poverty and the pain of discovering that my teachers looked upon my widowed, immigrant mother as ignorant and upon me as a savage child,” she wrote in her introduction to “Worlds of Pain.” “I learned young to be ashamed.”
In a phone interview after Dr. Rubin’s death, Marci Rubin said “The Transcendent Child” was her mother’s most personal book. “It went to the heart of her trying to figure out who she was,” she said.
Lillian Breslow was born in Philadelphia on Jan. 13, 1924. Her parents, Sol and Rae Breslow, met and married in the United States after their families had immigrated from Ukraine, where they and other Jews had been attacked during ultranationalist pogroms after World War I. Both worked in the garment industry.
Lillian’s father died when she was 5, and her mother took her and her older brother, Leonard, to live with relatives in the Bronx. Dr. Rubin wrote poignantly about her relationship with her mother, who worked long hours and pushed her children to succeed in life.
The trouble, she wrote, was her mother’s different definitions of success for boys and girls. While urging her son to get a college education, she pushed Lillian to “marry up,” meaning a college-educated man. Four years after graduating from high school, she wrote, “I did just that.” Her first marriage, to Seymour Katz, a certified public accountant, ended in divorce in 1959.
She met her second husband, Hank Rubin while working as a political organizer for progressive Democratic candidates in Los Angeles, where she and Mr. Katz had moved in the mid-’50s. They married in 1962.
Dr. Rubin entered Berkeley as a freshman in 1963 and received her B.A. four years later. She earned her Ph.D. in 1971. After receiving postgraduate training as a psychotherapist, she began a dual career as a sociological researcher and a private therapist. She was appointed a senior research associate at the Institute for the Study of Social Change at Berkeley, where she worked for many years while writing her books.
Besides her daughter, Dr. Rubin is survived by a grandson and a great-grandson. Hank Rubin died in 2011.
All of Dr. Rubin’s books were based on interviews with her subjects — hundreds of them for some books — leavened with sociological commentary written in an accessible style.
Dan Cryer, reviewing “Just Friends: The Role of Friendship in Our Lives” in The Miami Herald in 1985, praised Dr. Rubin as “the kind of writer who gives pop psychology a good name.”
“Just Friends,” “Intimate Strangers” and “Women of a Certain Age” were best sellers. “Worlds of Pain” and a 1994 follow-up, “Families on the Fault Line,” continue to be standard texts on many university campuses.
In later years, Dr. Rubin wrote often for the online journal Salon about politics, culture and the unpleasant — and, she said, rarely discussed — realities of aging. Sixty was not the new 40, she wrote, and 80 was not the new 60.
Old age is “a time of loss, decline and stigma,” Dr. Rubin wrote, and no one gains by denying it. At 88, she admitted, she had mixed feelings about living, and mixed feelings about dying.
“Ambivalence reigns,” she wrote, “in death as well as in life.”