When a physical structure is destroyed, the intention is to erase all traces of existence, end life, vanish the truth, stop the fight, and fill with fear to drown out hope. But in the resistance, you realize the real substance is not in the foundations or the concrete. What held that home together in its essence was the struggles that continue, even if all that’s physically left are the keys in the museums.
Like museums, stories are not there to create parallel universes, nor to tell distant and foreign realities; they are made to weave lives together, to connect collective memory in a fight against oblivion. To me, these museums preserve the lived memory, the evidence of strength used to fight, and the permanent effort to inherit the legacies.