Joseph Lescinszky was a tailor in a small Middle West city, who lived in
five small rooms over his shop, with his wife and seven children. He had
plenty of patronage, for he was a good tailor, but he was unhappy, for
one of the dreams long associated with his American citizenship had
failed to materialize. His eldest son, Joseph Junior, was in the high
school—a homely, awkward boy with great wistful eyes and an incurable
shyness. He was a good student, but suffered constantly under the
heartless, matter-of-fact ridicule of his American schoolmates.
[Sidenote: Race Prejudice]
This ridicule was but the echo of the attitude of the whole community
toward the Polish family. They were the only foreigners in the place,
and their appearance, habits and speech afforded unlimited amusement to
everyone. Men who had had their suits made by the skillful, little,
Polish tailor told funny stories in which his broken English figured as
the chief point, and their sons and daughters in turn laughed at the shy
and awkward children whom they met at school.
No one realized how this ridicule embittered the life of the tailor
until Miss Swainson came to Hovey to teach in the high school. She took
her old cape to the tailor one day, thriftily planning to have it made
into a coat for school wear; and over the making of the coat, tailor and
teacher began to discuss Joseph and his school life. No teacher had ever
talked to him about Joseph before, and the little Pole voiced his
feelings tremblingly.
“My Joseph does not like the school,” he confided. “He goes because I
command him that he shall, but he has not his heart in it.”
“He does very good work,” comforted Miss Swainson. “His lessons are
always excellent.”
“Ah, the lessons he gets with no trouble. But the boys, they like him
not. They all time make fun on him, and my poor Joseph is not happy. He
is Polack, they say. It is not true—we are Americans now; there is the
paper,” and he pointed proudly to the naturalization paper, framed upon
the wall.
“We’ll see if we can’t make Joseph happy at school,” Miss Swainson
promised. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Now, Miss Swainson was one of the upright, downright people who go at
things directly and openly. She began a campaign for the kinder
treatment of Joseph Lescinszky, Junior. She had no doubt of her success.
An opportunity for beginning her kindly efforts in Joseph’s behalf came
soon. Joseph was always the butt for practical jokes, and Charlie Owen
was his particular tormentor. Therefore, when Joseph was tripped, going
to the dictionary, by Charlie’s projecting toes, she kept Charlie after
school and had a serious talk with him.
“Don’t you see what a contemptible thing it is for you to tease this
bright boy just because he is of Polish blood?” she inquired warmly of
smiling Charlie Owen.
“Why, Miss Swainson, he don’t mind. Everybody always laughs at those
Lescinszkies, and they don’t care. If they ever showed fight like
Americans I guess we’d let them alone, but they don’t. They’re not like
us.”
“That’s just why you should treat them better. They haven’t learned that
a boy has to fight in order to be decently treated,” Miss Swainson
returned with fine scorn.
“No, ma’am. If they could only learn that, they’d be all right.” Fine
scorn was wasted on Charlie.
All Miss Swainson’s efforts ended in this way. Secure in their feeling
that traditional American means for securing respect were the only ones,
smug with the provincialism of the small town, the school children
continued to express to the alien boy the contempt they had imbibed from
their elders. They merely smiled at Miss Swainson’s indignant efforts to
win justice and kindness for their Polish schoolmate.
Toward the end of the year the young teacher thought she detected a
shade of difference in the treatment given Joseph. This was due partly
to her constant shaming of the thoughtless cruelty of their conduct, and
partly to the respect he himself won by his good work in the classroom.
But although this small degree of success comforted her somewhat, she
felt still the defeat of her efforts keenly, not realizing that a change
of conduct based on imitation must come through a change of example
followed.