As a 15-year-old walking through the gates of the concentration camps in Auschwitz, I did not know what to expect. We had briefly discussed Hitler and his wrong-doings in 8th grade history but I had no idea of the in-depth occurrences or what exactly happened between the years of 1940 to 1945. Engraved above me into the wiring of the gate stated "Arbeit Macht Frei" which translates to "work will make you free."

The air was thick due to a major storm brewing and the sky was an overcast grey. It was the perfect setting for an unforgettable experience. The lights seemed dim and the exhibits were mostly in Polish or German, making it hard for me to understand; I had only lived in Germany for less than a year, and the German language was not familiar to me. I learned a lot about the Holocaust that day, but nothing would prepare me for my visit to the Holocaust museum in Washington, D.C.

I am now 19 years old and a sophomore in college. I have taken multiple history courses since my visit to Auschwitz, and I am more knowledgeable about World History and conflict -- especially World War 2.

Walking through the doors of the Holocaust Museum in Washington, DC was a completely different experience than walking through the gates of the concentration camps in Southern Poland. The atmosphere was bright. Everyone seemed excited and eager to learn about the Holocaust. The lobby was well lit and everyone, including the workers, had a bright smile on their faces. We received our complimentary "perks-of-being-an-army-brat" tickets and were immediately directed toward the elevator doors.

The excitement seemed to diminish as the doors closed and we climbed to the fourth floor. As we stepped off the elevator, the atmosphere switched; a voice on the intercom announced, "the primary purpose is to communicate concepts," not just to display objects. The crowd of people dispersed into the chaos and I was immediately drawn into the exhibits.

The information was in English, making it easier to engage in the displays. I understood everything easily which was a relieving contrast from my previous visit to Auschwitz. As I completed my self-guided tour through the museum, I reflected on my prior experiences in Europe.

I enjoyed every step I took from cities in Germany (Munich, Nuremberg, Berlin, and Stuttgart), to other countries in Europe (Austria and Poland). The happy memories I made in these places were now shadowed by the horrifying stories displayed on the Museum's walls. Names of places I had been were highlighted in bold print, making it harder to bear knowing Jews had suffered in the same places I had once stood.

As I reached the end of the museum, a place of reflection was available. The Hall of Remembrance, like the lobby, was beautiful and well lit. The room was surrounded by lit candles and bible verses. The room is 6,000 square feet which has 6 sides symbolizing the 6-point Star of David and the 6 death camps where 6 million Jews were murdered by the Nazis.

I remembered the dark rooms where the Jews were housed and the gas chambers disguised as showers where they were put to death. I remembered the stone roads and the courtyards where they would stand and work for hours on end until they suffered from exhaustion, death, or both. I remembered walking through the same gate those before me had walked, engraved "Arbeit Macht Frei," and I began to appreciate my trip to Auschwitz.

I have stood where genocide once resided, and now hold the responsibility to ensure that history doesn't repeat itself.