The story of a partisan's grandson in a Slovo 21 production. Zdeněk Serinek on family taboos and his experiences on stage

Zdeněk Serinek knew nothing about his family's story for a long time. Today, however, he proudly carries the legacy of his grandfather, the Romani partisan and resistance leader Josef Serinek. What is it like when heroism becomes a taboo? And what emotions arise when people start talking about it openly? Zdeněk’s personal narrative has also become part of the theatrical production Stories of the Survivors, prepared by Slovo 21. Seven non-professional actors from families affected by the Romani Holocaust are bringing old stories to life together and opening up topics that still resonate within the Romani community—from a painful past to persistent injustices.

How did you come to terms with the rather negative role you play in the production? ‍

At the beginning, it was incredibly difficult for me to have to be harsh. I had to shout, especially at the main character. I couldn't do it at all. It took me six days before the coaches managed to force me into it. They did it by starting to shout at me, and I automatically reacted by shouting back. But it was hard because that is not how I would ever behave in real life. I actually had to learn to go against my own nature. 

So the beginning of rehearsals was challenging...‍

At first, it was a lot of new people for me. Although I did know some of them. I’ve known Jozef Miker and Zdeněk Daniel for a long time, but I was meeting everyone else for the first time. We were creating the plot together as we went along, and we talked about what would happen. We talked a lot, about everything. And I was surprised that everyone except me had been carrying trauma from the past since childhood. Because their families had talked to them about it at home when they were little. I only found out about my grandfather in adulthood. At the time, I was sorry my dad hadn't told me sooner. But now, while rehearsing the play, I realized that maybe it was for the best. 

Why do you think you only found out about your grandfather in adulthood? ‍

During the war, my grandfather lived in the Vysočina region, where he was supported by a World War I veteran, Lieutenant Zeman. When Zeman was dying, he urged my grandfather to take care of his wife and son. My grandfather took that to heart. After the war, he and that woman married and started a family. He had lost his first wife and children during the Holocaust. And my dad told me that when I was born—my grandfather's first grandson—his first question was what I looked like. Whether I was dark or light-skinned. When my dad told him I was light-skinned, my grandfather said, "That's good, he'll have an easier life." Simply put, they didn't want us to be associated with being Romani. That’s also why none of my peers knew about my grandfather. It was known that he was Romani and a partisan, but whenever I asked my dad for any details, he would brush it off. The conversation was always steered away immediately. 

What was it like for you to share these and other family stories with the other performers in the theater? ‍

I have to say that... Well, it was a terrible time. But when you learn more things, you realize that Romani people had it bad even before the war, and it just keeps going on. 

Which moments in the production are based directly on your personal story?‍

Maybe they aren't one hundred percent from my own story. But, for example, at the company where I work, I used to be a production line supervisor. And when it came time to decide whether to make me permanent—which would have included a pay raise and various other benefits—someone made sure that didn't happen. I only found out later that the decision was made based on my background. Then, during COVID, they told me they wouldn't fire me if I took a different, even lower-paying job. Given my age, I had no choice but to stay. It would have been hard to find anything else. Everywhere else, they mostly offer minimum wage, and I don't want to work for that. I find it humiliating. I am of the opinion that our minimum wage is terribly low. It’s not something we can live on with dignity. 

I understand there was a lot you could have talked about on stage. Still, did you hesitate when the offer to act in the theater first came up?‍

It wasn't the first project I had collaborated on with both Slovo 21 and other organizations. I’m quite open to these things. I really didn't hesitate and said right away that I’d be happy to try it. And since we’re talking about theater, I can mention that there is currently a play about my grandfather running at the Minor Theater in Prague. They call it a "Vysočina Western," but the official title is The Black Partisan. It’s about the life of my grandfather, Josef Serinek. There will be another performance on November 6th, and I will be participating in the post-show discussion. So, that’s how I keep the legacy alive.

Have you looked for other ways to share your family story?‍

We were planning a project with Čeněk Růžička. It didn't have a name yet, but we wanted to visit schools and talk at seminars about the Romani Holocaust and the camp in Lety. The truth about what happened there. Unfortunately, Čeněk passed away before we could start, and so the whole thing came to an end. Another project I collaborated on was Věra Lacková's feature-length documentary, How I Became a Partisan. Her story is similar to mine, except I am the grandson of a Romani partisan, and she is the great-granddaughter. When she first called me about it, I didn't hesitate at all because I felt it was for a good cause. 

Returning to Stories of the Survivors. Did you find yourself in acting?‍

Very much so. I didn't believe I would enjoy it this much. I really love the improvisation. Sometimes I even wonder if I got too carried away, if it was too much. Sometimes I'm surprised by what pops into my head.

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This interview was created as part of the Stories of the Survivors project, supported by the Foundation Remembrance, Responsibility and Future (EVZ).

This text does not express the opinion of the EVZ Foundation. The author is responsible for all claims contained in this text.

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