A SOCIAL EXPERIMENT.
The Residents of the College Settlement learned in the first year of their
work in Rivington Street to sympathize deeply with the married women, the
mothers in the region.
Mothers, after nights spent in overcrowded, unventilated bedrooms caring
for nursing babies, began getting breakfast at five o'clock in the morning.
Husband and children of every age must be wakened for work or for school,
often irritable because of the unhygienic conditions under which they had
slept. Friction and quarreling is to be expected when there is one
wash-basin for the use of the whole family; one sink for the morning bath
of the family when there is running water in the rooms. Breakfast of bread
and strong coffee, perhaps with the family waiting turns because only three
sides of the table are available, as there is not room to pull the table
out from the wall to make the four sides useful. Floor space costs in the
tenements.
Friction, adjustment and hurry do not tend to develop a serene spirit in
the house-mother whose office is purely executive. How much less in the
house-mother whose hands must do all the work of the home? When the working
and school-going members of the family are cared for and have gone their
several ways, there is left to the house-mother almost always a baby and
another child too young to go to school, to care for and amuse. In addition
there is the round of work--washing, ironing, mending, making, cooking--all
to be done under limitations of space and conveniences; often with the
handicap of ignorance. Whatever the advantage of self-made money-makers,
the self-made housekeeper, taught only by experience, not only pays dearly
for her education, but is more than apt to be satisfied with her
self-taught accomplishments, thus increasing her disadvantages in the use
of time and money.
Even with a small family the house-mother with the usual round of work
would not have many moments of leisure. When it is a large family, with all
the disadvantages of the tenement-house home, the days are not long enough
for the work to be done. It crowds the hours, and accumulates until often
discouragement and nervous exhaustion follow. If the mother have a
conscience, she wars with herself, battling against conditions that she
feels but cannot understand nor overcome.
Three hundred and sixty-five days in the year the Residents found these
mothers who needed the change of pleasure that made no demands on purses.
Even good wages did not permit these families money to buy pleasure and
recreation. Mothers, good mothers, grew old before their time. They often
grew careless of their personal appearance, and by this risked their
influence in their homes, separation from their children, alert and often
overconscious on the subject of dress.
Then there were semi-apathetic mothers because of discouragement; the
mothers who drifted, never having an aim in life or an ideal; then the
mothers who long ago ceased to make any struggle against environment, every
year becoming more inert; the mothers, now grand-mothers, who were
remembered only in time of need by their children. The Residents saw the
need of the mothers of all types. How could the apathetic be awakened, the
discouraged stimulated, the overworked rested and cheered? Hundreds,
thousands of mothers were losing the best things of life because for them
the activities that increase interest and sympathies could not be brought
into their lives. Their environment made social opportunities in their own
homes impossible. Husband and children, through contact with life in shop,
factory, store, street and school, enlarged their interest every day; while
the wife and mother came to a mental standstill, often losing interest in
everything outside of her home; often failing through lack of knowledge and
discouragement in making that a place of rest and refreshing.
The Settlement was the bright spot in the lives of hundreds of young people
and children. The mothers who could be stimulated must be reached and held
in a center where pleasure would be the controlling element and education
an incident. There were mothers who had lost all desire for social life. It
was found difficult to arouse in them even a momentary interest in the
thought of seeing new things, new people. The grind of life had blunted all
social instincts. There were women who on the social side of their natures
were dead; could not be roused by any thought outside of the routine of
their lives. Interest enough to do for their families what required the
least effort of mind and body was all that was left. The hope in these
homes was the children. To them the Settlement must give inspiration and
ideals; the home would never give either.
In the second year of the College Settlement's activity a persistent effort
was made to reach the mothers, especially the mothers of the more alert and
active boys and girls affiliated with the Settlement, in clubs and classes.
These mothers came, but never the same group twice. The smallest obstacle
would prevent the very women who most needed social opportunity from
accepting it. When they needed help, they came to the Settlement; they were
most cordial hostesses when the Residents called; delighted in the
opportunities the Settlement made for their children; but the habit of
staying indoors, out of touch with any life but that of the tenement-house
halls, was a fixed habit most difficult to dislodge.
Some of the workers who were interested in this question were led to
conclude that it was only the exceptional woman in the tenements who
retained the capacity to plan her work to secure a specified hour or two of
freedom in a whole week. The life imposed on the tenement-house mother does
not make time an element in adjustment of her day, still less of her week.
The breakfast over, the day unfolds itself, and the mother is free to meet
it. Only in the exceptional home is life considered in its relation to the
time of day. One thing was clear: that in the homes of the better paid
wage-earners the mothers did not get their share of life's brightness. A
College Settlement worker, enthusiastically supported by the Head Resident,
determined to secure it for some of them. Failures would not discourage the
worker, for every effort would be considered an experiment until success
was attained. The club idea had proved successful for the children and
young people; it had for mothers of larger opportunities elsewhere in the
social world; it might for these mothers. At least, it could be tried.
Twenty-two calls were made on the mothers of children and young people then
coming to the Settlement, asking them to the Settlement for a certain
afternoon in the following week. All accepted the invitation; ten came. The
women who responded were told of the plan to start a club to meet once a
week. There would be music, a short talk and refreshments. The plan seemed
to please all who were present, and it was agreed to meet the following
week.
At once a problem was faced. Some of the mothers came without hats, wearing
not overclean aprons, and apparently looking upon the movement as some new
phase of almsgiving. Others were alert, well-dressed, comprehended that
they must contribute their share in money and interest or the effort would
die out. The children of these two types of mothers could not be
distinguished by outward signs. American public school life and the very
atmosphere of the street life had already begun its leveling-up process in
dress and independence. How could these two types be brought into a common
social relation, when they held nothing in common but the experience of
living under the roof with many?
It was decided to let the law of natural selection operate freely. The club
was an experiment, and it must not start with preconceived plans; its life
must be one of evolution. The next week only the alert women appeared.
The club was formed, a president elected, and dues placed at ten cents per
week. This the projectors tried to reduce, but the members insisted that
they could and would pay it. That it would cost almost that to pay for the
cake and coffee, and they could help somebody if there was any money over.
The club was limited to ten members, and filled at the second meeting. It
enlarged to fifteen the next year. In its fifth year it numbered
forty-five.
The subject of the first formal talk, informally conducted, as its subject
demanded, was: "How long after the hair is out of curling-papers is it
becoming?" This, of course, gave the opportunity of laying stress on a
wife's personal appearance; the necessity of being as attractive as
possible to one's own husband and children. That was, is, the keynote of
the club, its creed, its religion to-day, when mothers and married
daughters are members. The time of meeting was two o'clock, that the
mothers might be at home in time to get supper for their husbands and
children. Babies came with their mothers, and children in school came to
the Settlement instead of going home after school. Many of the little girls
belonged to a sewing club that met the same afternoon at the Settlement.
The club, named in the first month of its existence "The Woman's Home
Improvement Club," celebrated its eleventh anniversary at the College
Settlement, October, 1901.
[Illustration: THE WOMAN'S HOME IMPROVEMENT CLUB AT THE SETTLEMENT.]
As the first anniversary approached, the members suggested an evening
meeting, that their husbands might come. The proposition received the most
enthusiastic support from the Settlement Residents. Husbands, all the
children who worked, and a friend of each member--if married, her
husband--were included in the invitation. Dancing and music occupied the
evening. What a revelation! Fathers dancing with their own daughters for
the first time; mothers with their sons; daughters and sons spellbound at
the sight of their mothers and fathers dancing together! It was evident
that the club was a feature of the family life. The husbands and grown
children knew what had been talked about, what had been done at the
meetings. One husband, watching his wife dancing with their son, said: "I
don't know how you've done it, but this club has made my wife young again;
she's as young as when we were married." This wife and mother of nine
children at the club one afternoon wished there were a hundred such clubs.
"'Tis a mistake to just stay shut up." She waited a minute, and then said:
"I had not bought a hat for eighteen years until I joined this club; I did
not need it; I never went anywhere; the children did all the errands."
This was the very type of mother the projectors of the club hoped to reach.
The first evening reception proved such a success that it was decided to
hold one evening reception each month for the family and friends of the
members. Thanksgiving and Christmas receptions belonged to the children.
Apples, nuts, gingerbread, cake and peanut brittle, with coffee, are the
refreshments for Thanksgiving evening; new milk for the children. The games
are Blind Man's Buff, Going to Jerusalem, with the Virginia Reel as an
alternate, because the little children can dance it. "America" and "Home,
Sweet Home," sung in chorus, close the evening. More than one family is now
represented by three generations on these evenings. At the first evening
reception a father and son of twenty years stood side by side. When the
father began singing, the son stopped and looked at him in amazement. This
changed to one of enjoyment, as he said between the verses: "Dad, I didn't
know you could sing." "I haven't in twenty years, I guess," was the reply.
Both father and son had good voices. The son had made the discovery that he
had a voice, at the Settlement, in his club. He edged closer to his father;
there was a new bond of sympathy. The boy's Christmas present from his
father, mother, brother and sisters was a mandolin, the first time a
combination present had been given. It was quite natural that the next year
a table for the new parlor should be the gift of the children to the
parents.
An incident occurring in the third year after the club was organized is,
perhaps, as perfect an illustration of the lack of social opportunity in a
tenement-house home as can be given.
One of the most faithful and interested of the members was a woman about
fifty-seven when she joined the club. She was slow to respond to the club
idea; to the right of personal judgment outside her own affairs. Her
responses to a question that involved an expression of opinion was usually:
"It don't make no difference to me." After a time she grasped the idea that
she was one of many, but had equal rights with all the members in deciding
questions relating to the club, and she began assuming responsibilities;
expressing her views. In the third year she came to the president, and
with every evidence of wishing to disclose a secret, said: "Next week
Thursday is my birthday. I never had a birthday party in my life. I've
always wanted one, but never had the room, and I never had the dishes. Do
you believe I could have a birthday party here next week?"
"Yes, I'm sure you could."
"I can't do much; and I only have two friends besides the club that I want
to have. I want to pay for all the coffee and cake, that I may feel that
it's my party. Just my two daughters, and my two friends, and my
grandchildren--four, that's all. I've been saving the money for a year."
One night early in the next week the bell rang. A working man stood at the
door. He handed a five-dollar bill to one of the Residents, saying: "My
wife, she's goin' to have a party here Thursday. I want you to give her a
good time. She's been a good wife to me. Don't tell her; just spend it for
her;" and the man disappeared in the darkness.
It was decided to order a birthday cake and light sixty candles.
The day came. Every member brought a remembrance. Radiantly, tearfully
happy stood the hostess. She loved music, and a sweet, gracious woman whose
music wins the most cultured sang song after song. Time for refreshments
came. In the front parlor a club of little girls were sewing. It seemed a
pity that they should not see the cake and the candles lighted. They were
told that the doors would open, a lady was having her first birthday party,
and it would be kind to wish her many returns of the day.
The cake was brought in with the sixty candles burning, and placed before
the hostess, a gift from her husband. "I didn't know," the wife kept
whispering under her breath as she stood beside it at the table. The doors
rolled slowly backward, and twenty children breathed "Ah!" Then in a piping
chorus, "Wish you many returns of the day." A moment the woman stood still.
Then turning a shining face on all about, she moved toward the children,
the tears falling fast. Raising her hands and face heavenward, she said
solemnly: "O God, what have I done that you should be so good to me?" The
volume of her life was opened.
A cake with a few shining candles, a few friends with their little
offerings, and the wishes of a few children, and to one woman God had
reached out of His high heaven and selected her as the special object of
His care and love.
Not all of the five dollars had been used. The hostess was asked what she
wanted done with it. She was radiant. "I'll give a party to those children
what said that sweet thing to me." Suggestions of other uses were cast
aside. The children must have a party--ice cream and cake. When she found
out that cake and ice cream would cost more than the money in hand, she
announced: "I will wait to give it. In a month I save money to put to it."
She made all her own arrangements, and proved a hostess of resource and
tact.
She received her guests most cordially. Perhaps the most wildly exciting
hours of her life were when, after much coaxing, she joined in the games of
Drop the Handkerchief, Blind Man's Buff and Going to Jerusalem, the last
game sending her crimson and panting into a chair in the corner, with the
children crowding about her shrieking with laughter.
Time for refreshments found her anxious and watchful. The members of the
club had fallen into the spirit of the day, and nobody was grown up.
An incident occurred during the serving of refreshments which showed the
educational value of a story written for pleasure, not education; at the
same time a very deep compliment to the book. "The Birds' Christmas Carol"
was a favorite book in the club. It had been read twenty-seven times in
one tenement house by eleven members of one family, and four times by one
member, who said she would own a copy whenever she could spare the money.
She wanted to read it when she felt cross. As there were not chairs enough
for all at the party, some of the children sat on the floor. The little
daughter of the mother who wanted to own "The Birds' Christmas Carol" sat
on the floor in front of her mother. She did something while eating her ice
cream of which her mother disapproved. With a quick glance at one of the
workers who stood near her, the mother said: "If I had been as wise as Mrs.
Ruggles, she would not have done that." Mrs. Ruggles was a thoroughly
appreciated character. Her struggles to equip her children were perfectly
understood, as were her ambitions for them. The hostess of the day was as
disappointed as the youngest child when the lighting of the gas told that
the day was done. She was the last to leave, saying: "I never was so happy
in my life. It has been beautiful. All my life I wanted a birthday party.
Now I have two;" and she turned a radiant face to say "Good-night" as she
went down the stoop into the gathering darkness.
The weeks went by. The club had tickets to go to Glen Island, through the
generosity of Mr. Starin. In August another member had a birthday, and
confided the secret to the giver of the birthday party, saying, "I wanted
to give a birthday party as you did. I never had one in my life; but I
could not get money enough. I tried hard since yours." In September the
elder member confided this conversation to the president of the club,
saying, "Now we will give her a surprise. She shall have the party. I have
talked with every member. But we will not each buy her a present; we put
our money together and buy her a dress." The president doubted the wisdom
of this, and suggested a dozen other gifts. "No, we give a dress. She does
not have as nice a dress as other members. It is not right that one member
of a club should not dress as good as every other member. Why not she take
that dress? She know we love her, and we give her this because we want her
to look as good as anybody; she is so pretty."
The dress was bought and given by the oldest member of the club, who in her
speech announced her views on dress, and the need of one member looking as
well-dressed as any other member; that if one could not have things, then
the others must share with her; that was being a true member. The dress was
received in the spirit in which it was given. When it was found that it
could not be made by the receiver in time for the next reception because
she had so much work, it was cut and made by five members of the club. The
wisdom of putting money together to buy one present was learned, and from
that time on the custom has been to make joint gifts when gifts are given.
This is done in families, greatly reducing the valueless things that were
formerly bought when only a little money, a few cents perhaps, could be
spent by each one.
About the time this club was established the kindergarten had been added to
the vocabulary of philanthropists. The kindergarten existed as part of the
secular work of many of the churches, and individuals here and there
supported kindergartens. It was generally conceded that the mothers of the
children did not appreciate the work the kindergarten was doing for their
children; that too often they felt that permitting them to go was
conferring a favor on the kindergartners or those who had asked for their
children's attendance. The Residents and workers at the Settlement did not
believe that this was a healthy attitude of mind. They believed it was
responsible for the irregular attendance of many of the children, as well
as the lack of punctuality. There was no kindergarten in connection with
the Settlement, nor room for one, but one was greatly needed. Much as it
was needed, it must not come until the mothers wanted it and were willing
to work for it.
Miss Brooks was then at the head of the Kindergarten Training School in
connection with the Teachers' College. She was consulted. The result was
that the members of the Woman's Home Improvement Club became on several
afternoons members of a kindergarten. They used the materials, took part in
the games directed by Miss Brooks and the members of her training class.
The names of the material used, the things made, the stories, the games,
the songs, became a part of the vocabulary of the mothers. Some of the
material was bought and taken home to entertain the children. The natural
result followed. "If only we could have a kindergarten for our children!"
[Illustration: THE KINDERGARTEN OF THE COLLEGE SETTLEMENT.]
It was suggested that if seventy children could be found near enough to the
DeWitt Memorial, where a room for the kindergarten was available, that
perhaps the kindergarten would be established there. Over one hundred calls
were made by the nine members of this club, which resulted in securing the
promised attendance of seventy children. The Lowell Kindergarten was then
opened at the DeWitt Memorial by the New York Kindergarten Association as a
result of this effort. The difficulties the mothers put in the way of good
work in the kindergarten was explained to the members of the club, who
agreed to call on mothers whose children did not come to the kindergarten
in time, or were irregular in attendance. It was most interesting to watch
the growth of public sentiment in favor of regular and punctual attendance,
not only at the kindergarten, but at school. If the kindergarten child
reported Johnny Jones, who was a neighbor's child, as absent, the elder
brother or visitor after school was sent to find out if Johnny Jones were
ill. It became a badge of good motherhood to have the child in the
kindergarten on time. Before this, through talks by doctors and nurses, the
relation between health and cleanliness had been discovered. Cleanliness
was imposed on their own children, and exacted from other mothers of
kindergarten children.
The influx of Hebrews, toward whom the members of this club had a deep race
prejudice, drove them out of this neighborhood. Before seven years had
passed but four of the members were residents of this district. But a
change of residence did not change their belief in the value of the
kindergarten. Wherever they have gone they have sought it for their young
children, who have found always intelligent and sympathetic listeners in
their mothers to all the events and incidents in their kindergarten world.
One mother learned accompaniments to songs, and the children sing
kindergarten songs at the club entertainments, even those in the grammar
grade join.
As time went on, the conviction grew stronger that the real pressure of
poverty or lack of money, among the self-respecting independent poor came
not on the physical nature but the mental and emotional. The pressure was
incessant. There never was a time when there was money to buy pleasure.
Months, years went by without life offering the opportunity for enlarging
the mental horizon of thousands of capable, receptive, devoted mothers. To
the children the Church entertainments were opportunities; clubs and sewing
schools were doing their share, but the mothers were only onlookers. There
was no active part for them except in the world of work. The churches
provided religious opportunity and social opportunity, regulated by the
Church environment. Hundreds were not attracted, and often one sympathized
with their rejection of this kind of social opportunity, tinged too
frequently with patronage, and of necessity, narrow in its scope.
Early in the history of this club the love of music was so evident that it
was decided that the members should hear "The Messiah." That would be the
Christmas treat that year. The cost of the tickets was far beyond the means
of the members, but friends made the purchase of the tickets for every
member possible.
Two days before the giving of the Oratorio, Mr. and Mrs. Gerrit Smith came
to the Settlement and gave a recital. Handel's picture was displayed, the
story of his life told. The themes of the Oratorio were explained, and then
sung by Mr. and Mrs. Smith. A new world was opened. The night for the
Oratorio came. The journey so far uptown was into a land wholly unknown.
Carnegie Hall was a revelation of another world. Its size and beauty, the
audience, all a revelation. From the opening bar to the close of the
Oratorio the club members listened entranced. It was the enlarging of the
world revealed by Mr. and Mrs. Gerrit Smith. As the chorus "Unto us a child
is born, Unto us a son is given," closed, every one of the mothers sat with
shining face but moist eyes. A new message had come. One little mother,
whose battle so bravely fought won reverence for her, leaned down and
whispered: "I'm so glad I have sons; I'm so glad. I think I know now what
it means." The echo came back for weeks, yes, for years. One member, in
trying to tell her husband, said: "I saw while I was talking how
impossible it was to make him understand, so I said: 'John, you'll never
know till you get to Heaven what I heard and saw to-night.'"
The result justified the effort. It was seen that it was wise to have the
best of everything for the members of the club in the way of entertainment.
Musicians have given most generously of their time and talent. Speakers who
are sought for in the highest intellectual world have been secured for the
evening receptions, when the husbands and working children and friends were
present. The result has been to develop just at the level where it was most
needed standards that protect the home from enjoyments tinged with
vulgarity, and even crudeness is now detected and accepted grudgingly or
with apology.
The hard times of 1893-94 gave a new opportunity to test the value of such
a club. The stories of suffering, of helplessness, made it seem wise to
control money to be expended through the club members. They were brought
into contact with families who never before were reduced to the point of
asking charity. About four hundred dollars was expended under the direction
of the members of this club. Work tickets were bought and given to men and
women whose life history they knew, men and women they had known for years.
When cases of strangers were brought to their notice, they investigated
and advised as to the best way to give help. To prevent eviction, payment
of rent was the first effort of the club members.
The education they received was invaluable. For the first time it was
possible for them to help others in a large way; they saw that the number
they could help depended on the wisdom shown in expending the money on
which they could call. Their indignation knew no bounds when they found
they had been deceived, as they were in half a dozen cases of families
brought to their attention. One case caused a complete revolution in their
theory that if people suffered it was because the world was hard with them,
had not given them a chance. One woman, a widow, was brought to the
attention of the club early in the winter. She had one child, and they had
not had a fire in weeks; had no outside garments to go on the street,
because they had pawned them for food. They had eaten nothing but bread and
coffee for seven weeks. Now they were to be evicted from the one room they
had occupied, because no rent had been paid for two months. The club had
decided that paying back rents only benefited landlords; that, having so
little money and so many demands, rent in advance was all they could pay.
They voted to move the woman, then to find work for her. It was decided
that she must learn to operate a sewing machine. The Charities'
Organization Society made that possible. After two weeks' trial, it was
found that the woman could not learn. Then the society gave her a chance to
learn laundry work, and for two weeks more money to support the woman and
child--cared for by one of the members in turn while the mother was away
from home--was given. Again the report came that the woman would not learn.
Then the members decided to teach her. This individual teaching, with what
the society had done, seemed to make an impression. It was decided that the
woman could iron.
[Illustration: MAKING A SELECTION.]
When this stage was reached the fourteen-year-old daughter of one of the
members passed on her way from work a laundry. At the door a sign hung,
"Hands Wanted." The little girl went in and asked about wages. The man at
the desk laughed at her. "It made me mad. I just looked at him," drawing
herself up as she told the story. "I said: 'I do not want the work for
myself, but for a woman _our_ club is trying to help; she's poor, and a
widow.' Then the man looked at me, and told me to tell the woman to come. I
told him we'd all been teaching her." The use of the plural possessive
thrilled the heart of the workers; the club was a family possession. The
woman was told to go to work the next morning. As the little girl was
returning from work the next night, she stopped at the laundry to ask about
the woman; to walk home with her, if she were going home. She was told the
woman had not appeared. Before going to her own home, the child went to see
why the woman had not gone to work. The woman had overslept. For three
weeks that little girl got up earlier and went after that woman, delivering
her at the laundry as though she were a package. It was decided that the
sacrifice was too much; if the woman was not willing to keep the work by
her own effort, she was not worth helping. An alarm clock was bought and
given her, and she was taught how to wind it. She lost the place before the
end of the first week because she could not get there on time.
The club found out that there were people it was impossible to help, do
what the world would.
This little girl during this period of struggle with this woman was met one
Sunday afternoon. She carried a doll to which she was devoted, and for
which she made a cloak that Sunday morning. "Isn't she pretty?" she said,
holding up the doll. "I often wish I could see her when I'm working." What
a combination of child and woman! As the years have passed, this little
girl has paid the penalty of shop life. She has grown hard, aggressive,
self-assertive, untruthful. If only her environment could have been
different, she would have made a magnificent woman. The world of struggle
has been too much for her; it has strangled the spirit of helpfulness.
The lessons of that winter have been well learned. Every mother in the club
wants a trade for her child; something learned that has in it wage-earning
promise because the worker has special knowledge.
The time came when it was possible to turn the attention of these mothers
to the administration of those city departments that make the environment
of their homes. The streets naturally claimed first attention. They learned
to take the numbers of the street sweepers who failed to do their work; to
take the numbers of the carts improperly and carelessly filled, and report
them at the club meeting. Leaking roofs, broken stairways, unlighted halls,
contagious diseases were reported, and conditions in the stores and
factories where their daughters worked.
The criminality of concealing dangers that threatened many to protect one
was comprehended. The club motto became "A helping hand to all."
The club members felt that it was possible for them to give special help
to little children. In a thousand ways the women in the house of many
families find the opportunity to help children; often through the children
they helped the mothers. Sometimes through personal influence they secured
the regular attendance of children at school; sometimes it meant calling in
the aid of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children to secure
the rights of children, to protect them from evils in their own homes.
One day a wealthy woman who had lost a little girl told the president of
this club this incident, which, she said, changed the course of her life.
For months she had shut out the world. God and man were cruel. Nothing
interested her; life was empty. She sat by the window in her home one
November afternoon. It was drizzling and blowing. A little girl without hat
or coat stood shivering and crying against the church railing opposite. As
she watched the child her mind reverted to the clothes she handled so
constantly, because they had been worn by her child. She sent for the
little stranger, and when she went on the street again she was warm, tidy
and comfortable. Then came the thought, "God never meant a woman should be
a mother just to one little girl. She must be a mother to every child who
needs her." From that day this woman has given her life and service to
children. The story was told to the club.
One of the members, after the meeting had adjourned and while the
refreshments were being served, was overheard saying: "Why, certainly it
would change everything if every woman would live in that way. Think how
many times you could save children, how many times you could help them, if
you were their mother just for the time they needed you--often only a few
minutes."
Months after a member reported: "Well, I don't know what you'll all think
when I tell you what I did last week. I've been bothered because such a
nice-looking little girl came every morning about school time and went
upstairs in the house opposite. She carried a lunch-box and books. I would
see her with a baby at the window, and see her in the morning run on
errands. At three o'clock she went away in the direction from which she
came. That child is playing 'hookey.' That woman is to blame, I said to
myself. One morning last week I saw the child go to the corner grocery. I
went after her.
[Illustration: AT THE SETTLEMENT--A STORMY DAY.]
"'Where you live, little girl?' I asked. She grew red and hung her head,
and tried to get out of the store. I stand in front of her. 'No, you must
not be afraid of me. I have little girls. I love all little girls. Where is
your mother? Child, you deceive her. She thinks you are in school, and you
play "hookey."' The child ran out of the store, crying. I went right
upstairs after her. I knock. The woman would not open the door. I knock
louder, then she come. When she see me, she tried to close the door. I put
my foot in the door and keep it open. I say, 'You are doing wrong. I belong
to a club where every member is to be a mother to every child what needs
her. If that little girl come here one more day, I follow her home and tell
her mother. It be bad for you if any child come here so young as that
child. It is against the law for such little children to work. That little
girl is playing "hookey," and you make her. You do that any more, and I
make a complaint against you to the Children's Society. Good-morning;' and
I took out my foot, bowed and went downstairs. When I got home, that little
girl is running down the street where she comes every morning. I never see
her now, and that woman do her own errands and mind her own baby."
The members applauded. A child out of school is a child to be looked after.
It has been concluded by the members of this club that they can do their
best missionary work in the houses where they live, by keeping their rooms
and their children in the best possible condition; that every home, every
child so cared for, is the best possible sermon preached, the purpose of
which is to make life better.
The League for Political Education, the Woman's Auxiliary of the Civil
Service Reform Association, the City History Club have sent speakers to the
club, some conducting courses of lectures. Even the Assembly District work
undertaken by the League for Political Education was attempted by the club,
but did not succeed. It could hardly be expected that it would.
During all those years the members had been trained to self-government. All
questions are decided by the majority. There came a time when the majority
voted to leave the College Settlement. It was deplored by the projectors,
but accepted. After a few weeks a small house was taken a couple of blocks
from the East River. The house had a large yard, and by expending a small
amount of money was made very attractive. The attempt was made to have the
members of the club do neighborhood work. A very short trial proved this
was impracticable. Two things were revealed: That the mother of a
working-man's family has neither strength nor time to give away; that the
very conditions of tenement-house neighborhoods require trained, impersonal
workers. The women who gave time to the club work in the neighborhood
neglected their homes and families. The few members who tried to do
neighborhood work in the house used every advantage the club-house offered,
which they controlled, to curry favor, to revenge slights, real or fancied,
to themselves or their children. The best mothers made no attempt to do any
neighborhood work. The house became a social center, an educational center.
But it was not a success until paid workers were put in charge of different
departments, with a very few volunteer workers; and the most faithful of
these were women of wealth.
It was hoped that uptown organizations would establish branches of their
work in this house. Some did attempt it, but it failed for the reason that
so many efforts to better the conditions of the tenement-house dwellers
fail. Women lacking the right qualities volunteered, or the work was
important when other things did not interfere. Clubs were established to
which the organizers came when it was convenient. Again and again children
connected with clubs waited until darkness came, but no "dear lady" whom
they trusted appeared. In another case, numbers were the standard of
success, and scores were crowded in where units should have been. All this
forced the employment of paid workers, and centered the responsibility on
one until the burden was too great to be borne.
Added to this, the principle of self-government had given a one-sided
development to some of the members, and friction would develop when large
questions were to be decided, an aggressive minority combating a
conservative and less demonstrative majority.
The reform campaign of 1897 began. The picture of the candidate of the
Citizens' Union hung in the window. The Citizens' Union used the house and
yard for its lectures. When the campaign was ended, the friction developed
to the unbearable point, and it seemed, in view of the dissension, best to
disband the club. The club voted to keep together and return to the College
Settlement, if the privilege could be secured. This was generously given,
and the club unanimously voted to return, pledging the members to give all
the aid possible to the Settlement work. Since 1898 the club has again been
a part of the work at the Settlement.
For six years this club has had a country club-house--a large house, easy
of access, in New Jersey, admirably adapted to the purposes of the club.
The house is surrounded by lawns and an apple orchard. Two kitchens make it
possible for two families to occupy the house at the same time. The rent
is paid and the house cleaned each spring. All other expenses, including
car fares, are paid by the members of the club using the house. The plan is
for each member to use half the house for two weeks. By a system of
evolution and working of the law of natural selection, four families use
the house at the same time. Mrs. A. invites Mrs. B. for the two weeks that
she is entitled to half of the house; and Mrs. B., arranging her two weeks
to follow Mrs. A., reciprocates by asking Mrs. A. to remain for her two
weeks. Co-operative housekeeping has developed, as has the sharing in the
care of the children. The barn, equipped for the children, has been an
endless delight. Two members have in the past been debarred the use of the
house. One because of the character of the men invited by the husband; one
because of the language used to her children. Both were asked to resign
from the club, or to make it inconvenient to use the club-house. One
resigned. The average number of people using this club-house has been
between four and five hundred each season. Sick children of neighbors have
been taken up by the members and cared for during their whole vacation. On
Sundays, friends, relatives and city neighbors are guests.
There has never been any supervision over the house, except that of the
members. Each member leaves the part of the house she has used clean for
the one coming after her. For several years the club paid part of two
months' rent, raised through entertainments. One year the members made a
donation of thirty dollars. Broken dishes are replaced, and the cost of
repairing furniture broken is paid by the member using the furniture at the
time. The large parlor is a club-room, and used by every member who goes up
for a day. A closet is provided with dishes to be used when picnics are
given by the members. The theory is that the grounds--four acres--can be
used by the members at any time, but the families in the house must not be
interfered with in any way.
The story of this club has been told at this length because it has proved
what can be done in broadening the life of women of natural intelligence
living under tenement-house conditions; how the family can have a common
interest, to which each contributes, a center that can create social
opportunity for the friends of every member and the members of every
family.
This club has been able to do much to lighten the burdens in the time of
financial crisis for people who could only have been helped through such a
medium. It was the help of a friend always. For years it has been able to
distribute Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners; but it grows more cautious
every year, for it has made discoveries of the abuses of the Christmas
dinner-giving. Through the children it has been possible to reach other
children who needed Christmas cheer, but who would not take it from ever so
kind-hearted a public.
The long years of working together has cemented friendships that are the
inheritances of the children, and sons and daughters have intermarried.
Baby after baby finds its godmother in the club.
There have been mortifying failures, but there have been positive successes
in the eleven years. The club has proved conclusively that the
working-men's wives can be determining factors in arousing and demanding
better environment for their homes; that the wife and mother who keeps in
touch with life commands greater influence in and outside her home, where
all that she learns is used to make that home better; that she keeps her
place in her family best when she makes herself the companion of her
husband and children; when she, as far as she may, is herself the source of
their social life, and contributes to their mental interests by sharing
with them all the educational opportunity that life gives her.