It may be possible to extract some
small degree of comfort from the recent revelations
of the white slave traffic when we reflect that at
the present moment, in the midst of a freedom such
as has never been accorded to young women in the history
of the world, under an economic pressure grinding
down upon the working girl at the very age when she
most wistfully desires to be taken care of, it is necessary
to organize a widespread commercial enterprise in
order to procure a sufficient number of girls for
the white slave market.
Certainly the larger freedom accorded
to woman by our changing social customs and the phenomenal
number of young girls who are utilized by modern industry,
taken in connection with this lack of supply, would
seem to show that the chastity of women is holding
its own in that slow-growing civilization which ever
demands more self-control and conscious direction
on the part of the individuals sharing it.
Successive reports of the United States
census indicate that self-supporting girls are increasing
steadily in number each decade, until 59 per cent.
of all the young women in the nation between the ages
of sixteen and twenty, are engaged in some gainful
occupation. Year after year, as these figures
increase, the public views them with complacency,
almost with pride, and confidently depends upon the
inner restraint and training of this girlish multitude
to protect it from disaster. Nevertheless, the
public is totally unable to determine at what moment
these safeguards, evolved under former industrial
conditions, may reach a breaking point, not because
of economic freedom, but because of untoward economic
conditions.
For the first time in history multitudes
of women are laboring without the direct stimulus
of family interest or affection, and they are also
unable to proportion their hours of work and intervals
of rest according to their strength; in addition to
this for thousands of them the effort to obtain a
livelihood fairly eclipses the very meaning of life
itself. At the present moment no student of modern
industrial conditions can possibly assert how far
the superior chastity of woman, so rigidly maintained
during the centuries, has been the result of her domestic
surroundings, and certainly no one knows under what
degree of economic pressure the old restraints may
give way.
In addition to the monotony of work
and the long hours, the small wages these girls receive
have no relation to the standard of living which they
are endeavoring to maintain. Discouraged and over-fatigued,
they are often brought into sharp juxtaposition with
the women who are obtaining much larger returns from
their illicit trade. Society also ventures to
capitalize a virtuous girl at much less than one who
has yielded to temptation, and it may well hold itself
responsible for the precarious position into which,
year after year, a multitude of frail girls is placed.
The very valuable report recently
issued by the vice commission of Chicago leaves no
room for doubt upon this point. The report estimates
the yearly profit of this nefarious business as conducted
in Chicago to be between fifteen and sixteen millions
of dollars. Although these enormous profits largely
accrue to the men who conduct the business side of
prostitution, the report emphasizes the fact that the
average girl earns very much more in such a life than
she can hope to earn by any honest work. It points
out that the capitalized value of the average working
girl is six thousand dollars, as she ordinarily earns
six dollars a week, which is three hundred dollars
a year, or five per cent. on that sum. A girl
who sells drinks in a disreputable saloon, earning
in commissions for herself twenty-one dollars a week,
is capitalized at a value of twenty-two thousand dollars.
The report further estimates that the average girl
who enters an illicit life under a protector or manager
is able to earn twenty-five dollars a week, representing
a capital of twenty-six thousand dollars. In
other words, a girl in such a life “earns more
than four times as much as she is worth as a factor
in the social and industrial economy, where brains,
intelligence, virtue and womanly charm should bring
a premium.” The argument is specious in
that it does not record the economic value of the many
later years in which the honest girl will live as
wife and mother, in contrast to the premature death
of the woman in the illicit trade, but the girl herself
sees only the difference in the immediate earning possibilities
in the two situations.
Nevertheless the supply of girls for
the white slave traffic so far falls below the demand
that large business enterprises have been developed
throughout the world in order to secure a sufficient
number of victims for this modern market. Over
and over again in the criminal proceedings against
the men engaged in this traffic, when questioned as
to their motives, they have given the simple reply
“that more girls are needed”, and that
they were “promised big money for them”.
Although economic pressure as a reason for entering
an illicit life has thus been brought out in court
by the evidence in a surprising number of cases, there
is no doubt that it is often exaggerated; a girl always
prefers to think that economic pressure is the reason
for her downfall, even when the immediate causes have
been her love of pleasure, her desire for finery,
or the influence of evil companions. It is easy
for her, as for all of us, to be deceived as to real
motives. In addition to this the wretched girl
who has entered upon an illicit life finds the experience
so terrible that, day by day, she endeavors to justify
herself with the excuse that the money she earns is
needed for the support of some one dependent upon
her, thus following habits established by generations
of virtuous women who cared for feeble folk.
I know one such girl living in a disreputable house
in Chicago who has adopted a delicate child afflicted
with curvature of the spine, whom she boards with respectable
people and keeps for many weeks out of each year in
an expensive sanitarium that it may receive medical
treatment. The mother of the child, an inmate
of the house in which the ardent foster-mother herself
lives, is quite indifferent to the child’s welfare
and also rather amused at such solicitude. The
girl has persevered in her course for five years,
never however allowing the little invalid to come to
the house in which she and the mother live. The
same sort of devotion and self-sacrifice is often
poured out upon the miserable man who in the beginning
was responsible for the girl’s entrance into
the life and who constantly receives her earnings.
She supports him in the luxurious life he may be living
in another part of the town, takes an almost maternal
pride in his good clothes and general prosperity, and
regards him as the one person in all the world who
understands her plight.
Most of the cases of economic responsibility,
however, are not due to chivalric devotion, but arise
from a desire to fulfill family obligations such as
would be accepted by any conscientious girl. This
was clearly revealed in conversations which were recently
held with thirty-four girls, who were living at the
same time in a rescue home, when twenty-two of them
gave economic pressure as the reason for choosing
the life which they had so recently abandoned.
One piteous little widow of seventeen had been supporting
her child and had been able to leave the life she
had been leading only because her married sister offered
to take care of the baby without the money formerly
paid her. Another had been supporting her mother
and only since her recent death was the girl sure
that she could live honestly because she had only
herself to care for.
The following story, fairly typical
of the twenty-two involving economic reasons, is of
a girl who had come to Chicago at the age of fifteen,
from a small town in Indiana. Her father was too
old to work and her mother was a dependent invalid.
The brother who cared for the parents, with the help
of the girl’s own slender wages earned in the
country store of the little town, became ill with
rheumatism. In her desire to earn more money
the country girl came to the nearest large city, Chicago,
to work in a department store. The highest wage
she could earn, even though she wore long dresses
and called herself “experienced,” was
five dollars a week. This sum was of course inadequate
even for her own needs and she was constantly filled
with a corroding worry for “the folks at home.”
In a moment of panic, a fellow clerk who was “wise”
showed her that it was possible to add to her wages
by making appointments for money in the noon hour
at down-town hotels. Having earned money in this
way for a few months, the young girl made an arrangement
with an older woman to be on call in the evenings whenever
she was summoned by telephone, thus joining that large
clandestine group of apparently respectable girls,
most of whom yield to temptation only when hard pressed
by debt incurred during illness or non-employment,
or when they are facing some immediate necessity.
This practice has become so general in the larger
American cities as to be systematically conducted.
It is perhaps the most sinister outcome of the economic
pressure, unless one cites its corollary - the
condition of thousands of young men whose low salaries
so cruelly and unjustifiably postpone their marriages.
For a long time the young saleswoman kept her position
in the department store, retaining her honest wages
for herself, but sending everything else to her family.
At length however, she changed from her clandestine
life to an openly professional one when she needed
enough money to send her brother to Hot Springs, Arkansas,
where she maintained him for a year. She explained
that because he was now restored to health and able
to support the family once more, she had left the life
“forever and ever”, expecting to return
to her home in Indiana. She suspected that her
brother knew of her experience, although she was sure
that her parents did not, and she hoped that as she
was not yet seventeen, she might be able to make a
fresh start. Fortunately the poor child did not
know how difficult that would be.
It is perhaps in the department store
more than anywhere else that every possible weakness
in a girl is detected and traded upon. For while
it is true that “wherever many girls are gathered
together more or less unprotected and embroiled in
the struggle for a livelihood, near by will be hovering
the procurers and evil-minded”, no other place
of employment is so easy of access as the department
store. No visitor is received in a factory or
office unless he has definite business there, whereas
every purchaser is welcome at a department store,
even a notorious woman well known to represent the
demi-monde trade is treated with marked courtesy if
she spends large sums of money. The primary danger
lies in the fact that the comely saleswomen are thus
easy of access. The disreputable young man constantly
passes in and out, making small purchases from every
pretty girl, opening an acquaintance with complimentary
remarks; or the procuress, a fashionably-dressed woman,
buys clothing in large amounts, sometimes for a young
girl by her side, ostensibly her daughter. She
condoles with the saleswoman upon her hard lot and
lack of pleasure, and in the rôle of a kindly, prosperous
matron invites her to come to her own home for a good
time. The girl is sometimes subjected to temptation
through the men and women in her own department, who
tell her how invitations to dinners and theatres may
be procured. It is not surprising that so many
of these young, inexperienced girls are either deceived
or yield to temptation in spite of the efforts made
to protect them by the management and by the older
women in the establishment.
The department store has brought together,
as has never been done before in history, a bewildering
mass of delicate and beautiful fabrics, jewelry and
household decorations such as women covet, gathered
skilfully from all parts of the world, and in the midst
of this bulk of desirable possessions is placed an
untrained girl with careful instructions as to her
conduct for making sales, but with no guidance in
regard to herself. Such a girl may be bitterly
lonely, but she is expected to smile affably all day
long upon a throng of changing customers. She
may be without adequate clothing, although she stands
in an emporium where it is piled about her, literally
as high as her head. She may be faint for want
of food but she may not sit down lest she assume “an
attitude of inertia and indifference,” which
is against the rules. She may have a great desire
for pretty things, but she must sell to other people
at least twenty-five times the amount of her own salary,
or she will not be retained. Because she is of
the first generation of girls which has stood alone
in the midst of trade, she is clinging and timid,
and yet the only person, man or woman, in this commercial
atmosphere who speaks to her of the care and protection
which she craves, is seeking to betray her. Because
she is young and feminine, her mind secretly dwells
upon a future lover, upon a home, adorned with the
most enticing of the household goods about her, upon
a child dressed in the filmy fabrics she tenderly
touches, and yet the only man who approaches her there
acting upon the knowledge of this inner life of hers,
does it with the direct intention of playing upon it
in order to despoil her. Is it surprising that
the average human nature of these young girls cannot,
in many instances, endure this strain? Of fifteen
thousand women employed in the down-town department
stores of Chicago, the majority are Americans.
We all know that the American girl has grown up in
the belief that the world is hers from which to choose,
that there is ordinarily no limit to her ambition
or to her definition of success. She realizes
that she is well mannered and well dressed and does
not appear unlike most of her customers. She
sees only one aspect of her countrywomen who come
shopping, and she may well believe that the chief
concern of life is fashionable clothing. Her interest
and ambition almost inevitably become thoroughly worldly,
and from the very fact that she is employed down town,
she obtains an exaggerated idea of the luxury of the
illicit life all about her, which is barely concealed.
The fifth volume of the report of
“Women and Child Wage Earners” in the
United States gives the result of a careful inquiry
into “the relation of wages to the moral condition
of department store women.” In connection
with this, the investigators secured “the personal
histories of one hundred immoral women,” of
whom ten were or had been employed in a department
store. They found that while only one of the ten
had been directly induced to leave the store for a
disreputable life, six of them said that they had
found “it was easier to earn money that way.”
The report states that the average employee in a department
store earns about seven dollars a week, and that the
average income of the one hundred immoral women covered
by the personal histories, ranged from fifty dollars
a week to one hundred dollars a week in exceptional
cases. It is of these exceptional cases that
the department store girl hears, and the knowledge
becomes part of the unreality and glittering life that
is all about her.
Another class of young women which
is especially exposed to this alluring knowledge is
the waitress in down-town cafes and restaurants.
A recent investigation of girls in the segregated
district of a neighboring city places waiting in restaurants
and hotels as highest on the list of “previous
occupations.” Many waitresses are paid so
little that they gratefully accept any fee which men
may offer them. It is also the universal habit
for customers to enter into easy conversation while
being served. Some of them are lonely young men
who have few opportunities to speak to women.
The girl often quite innocently accepts an invitation
for an evening, spent either in a theatre or dance
hall, with no evil results, but this very lack of
social convention exposes her to danger. Even
when the proprietor means to protect the girls, a
certain amount of familiarity must be borne, lest their
resentment should diminish the patronage of the cafe.
In certain restaurants, moreover, the waitresses doubtless
suffer because the patrons compare them with the girls
who ply their trade in disreputable saloons under
the guise of serving drinks.
The following story would show that
mere friendly propinquity may constitute a danger.
Last summer an honest, straightforward girl from a
small lake town in northern Michigan was working in
a Chicago cafe, sending every week more than half
of her wages of seven dollars to her mother and little
sister, ill with tuberculosis, at home. The mother
owned the little house in which she lived, but except
for the vegetables she raised in her own garden and
an occasional payment for plain sewing, she and her
younger daughter were dependent upon the hard-working
girl in Chicago. The girl’s heart grew
heavier week by week as the mother’s letters
reported that the sister was daily growing weaker.
One hot day in August she received a letter from her
mother telling her to come at once if she “would
see sister before she died.” At noon that
day when sickened by the hot air of the cafe, and
when the clatter of dishes, the buzz of conversation,
the orders shouted through the slide seemed but a
hideous accompaniment to her tormented thoughts, she
was suddenly startled by hearing the name of her native
town, and realized that one of her regular patrons
was saying to her that he meant to take a night boat
to M. at 8 o’clock and get out of this “infernal
heat.” Almost involuntarily she asked him
if he would take her with him. Although the very
next moment she became conscious what his consent implied,
she did not reveal her fright, but merely stipulated
that if she went with him he must agree to buy her
a return ticket. She reached home twelve hours
before her sister died, but when she returned to Chicago
a week later burdened with the debt of an undertaker’s
bill, she realized that she had discovered a means
of payment.
All girls who work down town are at
a disadvantage as compared to factory girls, who are
much less open to direct inducement and to the temptations
which come through sheer imitation. Factory girls
also have the protection of working among plain people
who frankly designate an irregular life, in harsh,
old-fashioned terms. If a factory girl catches
sight of the vicious life at all, she sees its miserable
victims in all the wretchedness and sordidness of
their trade in the poorer parts of the city.
As she passes the opening doors of a disreputable saloon
she may see for an instant three or four listless
girls urging liquor upon men tired out with the long
day’s work and already sodden with drink.
As she hurries along the street on a rainy night she
may hear a sharp cry of pain from a sick-looking girl
whose arm is being brutally wrenched by a rough man,
and if she stops for a moment she catches his muttered
threats in response to the girl’s pleading “that
it is too bad a night for street work.”
She sees a passing policeman shrug his shoulders as
he crosses the street, and she vaguely knows that
the sick girl has put herself beyond the protection
of the law, and that the rough man has an understanding
with the officer on the beat. She has been told
that certain streets are “not respectable,”
but a furtive look down the length of one of them
reveals only forlorn and ill-looking houses, from
which all suggestion of homely domesticity has long
since gone; a slovenly woman with hollow eyes and
a careworn face holding up the lurching bulk of a
drunken man is all she sees of its “denizens,”
although she may have known a neighbor’s daughter
who came home to die of a mysterious disease said
to be the result of a “fast life,” and
whose disgraced mother “never again held up her
head.”
Yet in spite of all this corrective
knowledge, the increasing nervous energy to which
industrial processes daily accommodate themselves,
and the speeding up constantly required of the operators,
may at any moment so register their results upon the
nervous system of a factory girl as to overcome her
powers of resistance. Many a working girl at the
end of a day is so hysterical and overwrought that
her mental balance is plainly disturbed. Hundreds
of working girls go directly to bed as soon as they
have eaten their suppers. They are too tired to
go from home for recreation, too tired to read and
often too tired to sleep. A humane forewoman
recently said to me as she glanced down the long room
in which hundreds of young women, many of them with
their shoes beside them, were standing: “I
hate to think of all the aching feet on this floor;
these girls all have trouble with their feet, some
of them spend the entire evening bathing them in hot
water.” But aching feet are no more usual
than aching backs and aching heads. The study
of industrial diseases has only this year been begun
by the federal authorities, and doubtless as more
is known of the nervous and mental effect of over-fatigue,
many moral breakdowns will be traced to this source.
It is already easy to make the connection in definite
cases: “I was too tired to care,”
“I was too tired to know what I was doing,”
“I was dead tired and sick of it all,”
“I was dog tired and just went with him,”
are phrases taken from the lips of reckless girls,
who are endeavoring to explain the situation in which
they find themselves.
Only slowly are laws being enacted
to limit the hours of working women, yet the able
brief presented to the United States supreme court
on the constitutionality of the Oregon ten-hour law
for women, based its plea upon the results of overwork
as affecting women’s health, the grave medical
statement constantly broken into by a portrayal of
the disastrous effects of over-fatigue upon character.
It is as yet difficult to distinguish between the
results of long hours and the results of overstrain.
Certainly the constant sense of haste is one of the
most nerve-racking and exhausting tests to which the
human system can be subjected. Those girls in
the sewing industry whose mothers thread needles for
them far into the night that they may sew without a
moment’s interruption during the next day; those
girls who insert eyelets into shoes, for which they
are paid two cents a case, each case containing twenty-four
pairs of shoes, are striking victims of the over-speeding
which is so characteristic of our entire factory system.
Girls working in factories and laundries
are also open to the possibilities of accidents.
The loss of only two fingers upon the right hand,
or a broken wrist, may disqualify an operator from
continuing in the only work in which she is skilled
and make her struggle for respectability even more
difficult. Varicose veins and broken arches in
the feet are found in every occupation in which women
are obliged to stand for hours, but at any moment
either one may develop beyond purely painful symptoms
into crippling incapacity. One such girl recently
returning home after a long day’s work deliberately
sat down upon the floor of a crowded street car, explaining
defiantly to the conductor and the bewildered passengers
that “her feet would not hold out another minute.”
A young woman who only last summer broke her hand in
a mangle was found in a rescue home in January, explaining
her recent experience by the phrase that she was “up
against it when leaving the hospital in October.”
In spite of many such heart-breaking
instances the movement for safeguarding machinery
and securing indemnity for industrial accidents proceeds
all too slowly. At a recent exhibition in Boston
the knife of a miniature guillotine fell every ten
seconds to indicate the rate of industrial accidents
in the United States. Grisly as was the device,
its hideousness might well have been increased had
it been able to demonstrate the connection between
certain of these accidents and the complete moral
disaster which overtook their victims.
Yet factory girls who are subjected
to this overstrain and overtime often find their greatest
discouragement in the fact that after all their efforts
they earn too little to support themselves. One
girl said that she had first yielded to temptation
when she had become utterly discouraged because she
had tried in vain for seven months to save enough
money for a pair of shoes. She habitually spent
two dollars a week for her room, three dollars for
her board, and sixty cents a week for carfare, and
she had found the forty cents remaining from her weekly
wage of six dollars inadequate to do more than re-sole
her old shoes twice. When the shoes became too
worn to endure a third soling and she possessed but
ninety cents towards a new pair, she gave up her struggle;
to use her own contemptuous phrase, she “sold
out for a pair of shoes.”
Usually the phrases are less graphic,
but after all they contain the same dreary meaning:
“Couldn’t make both ends meet,” “I
had always been used to having nice things,”
“Couldn’t make enough money to live on,”
“I got sick and ran behind,” “Needed
more money,” “Impossible to feed and clothe
myself,” “Out of work, hadn’t been
able to save.” Of course a girl in such
a strait does not go out deliberately to find illicit
methods of earning money, she simply yields in a moment
of utter weariness and discouragement to the temptations
she has been able to withstand up to that moment.
The long hours, the lack of comforts, the low pay,
the absence of recreation, the sense of “good
times” all about her which she cannot share,
the conviction that she is rapidly losing health and
charm, rouse the molten forces within her. A swelling
tide of self-pity suddenly storms the banks which
have hitherto held her and finally overcomes her instincts
for decency and righteousness, as well as the habit
of clean living, established by generations of her
forebears.
The aphorism that “morals fluctuate
with trade” was long considered cynical, but
it has been demonstrated in Berlin, in London, in Japan,
as well as in several American cities, that there
is a distinct increase in the number of registered
prostitutes during periods of financial depression
and even during the dull season of leading local industries.
Out of my own experience I am ready to assert that
very often all that is necessary to effectively help
the girl who is on the edge of wrong-doing is to lend
her money for her board until she finds work, provide
the necessary clothing for which she is in such desperate
need, persuade her relatives that she should have
more money for her own expenditures, or find her another
place at higher wages. Upon such simple economic
needs does the tried virtue of a good girl sometimes
depend.
Here again the immigrant girl is at
a disadvantage. The average wage of two hundred
newly arrived girls of various nationalities, Poles,
Italians, Slovaks, Bohemians, Russians, Galatians,
Croatians, Lithuanians, Roumanians, Germans, and Swedes,
who were interviewed by the Immigrants’ Protective
League, was four dollars and a half a week for the
first position which they had been able to secure in
Chicago. It often takes a girl several weeks
to find her first place. During this period of
looking for work the immigrant girl is subjected to
great dangers. It is at such times that immigrants
often exhibit symptoms of that type of disordered
mind which alienists pronounce “due to conflict
through poor adaptation.” I have known several
immigrant young men as well as girls who became deranged
during the first year of life in America. A young
Russian who came to Chicago in the hope of obtaining
the freedom and self-development denied him at home,
after three months of bitter disillusionment, with
no work and insufficient food, was sent to the hospital
for the insane. He only recovered after a group
of his young countrymen devotedly went to see him
each week with promises of work, the companionship
at last establishing a sense of unbroken association.
I also recall a Polish girl who became utterly distraught
after weeks of sleeplessness and anxiety because she
could not repay fifty dollars which she had borrowed
from a countryman in Chicago for the purpose of bringing
her sister to America. Her case was declared
hopeless, but when the creditor made reassuring visits
to the patient she began to mend and now, five years
later, is not only free from debt, but has brought
over the rest of the family, whose united earnings
are slowly paying for a house and lot. Psychiatry
is demonstrating the after-effects of fear upon the
minds of children, but little has yet been done to
show how far that fear of the future, arising from
economic insecurity in the midst of new surroundings,
has superinduced insanity among newly arrived immigrants.
Such a state of nervous bewilderment and fright, added
to that sense of expectation which youth always carries
into new surroundings, often makes it easy to exploit
the virtue of an immigrant girl. It goes without
saying that she is almost always exploited industrially.
A Russian girl recently took a place in a Chicago
clothing factory at twenty cents a day, without in
the least knowing that she was undercutting the wages
of even that ill-paid industry. This girl rented
a room for a dollar a week and all that she had to
eat was given her by a friend in the same lodging house,
who shared her own scanty fare with the newcomer.
In the clothing industry trade unionism
has already established a minimum wage limit for thousands
of women who are receiving the protection and discipline
of trade organization and responding to the tonic
of self-help. Low wages will doubtless in time
be modified by Minimum Wage Boards representing the
government’s stake in industry, such as have
been in successful operation for many years in certain
British colonies and are now being instituted in England
itself. As yet Massachusetts is the only state
which has appointed a special commission to consider
this establishment for America, although the Industrial
Commission of Wisconsin is empowered to investigate
wages and their effect upon the standard of living.
Anyone who has lived among working
people has been surprised at the docility with which
grown-up children give all of their earnings to their
parents. This is, of course, especially true of
the daughters. The fifth volume of the governmental
report upon “Women and Child Wage Earners in
the United States,” quoted earlier, gives eighty-four
per cent. as the proportion of working girls who turn
in all of their wages to the family fund. In
most cases this is done voluntarily and cheerfully,
but in many instances it is as if the tradition of
woman’s dependence upon her family for support
held long after the actual fact had changed, or as
if the tyranny established through generations when
daughters could be starved into submission to a father’s
will, continued even after the roles had changed,
and the wages of the girl child supported a broken
and dissolute father.
An over-restrained girl, from whom
so much is exacted, will sometimes begin to deceive
her family by failing to tell them when she has had
a raise in her wages. She will habitually keep
the extra amount for herself, as she will any overtime
pay which she may receive. All such money is
invariably spent upon her own clothing, which she,
of course, cannot wear at home, but which gives her
great satisfaction upon the streets.
The girl of the crowded tenements
has no room in which to receive her friends or to
read the books through which she shares the lives of
assorted heroines, or, better still, dreams of them
as of herself. Even if the living-room is not
full of boarders or children or washing, it is comfortable
neither for receiving friends nor for reading, and
she finds upon the street her entire social field;
the shop windows with their desirable garments hastily
clothe her heroines as they travel the old roads of
romance, the street cars rumbling noisily by suggest
a delectable somewhere far away, and the young men
who pass offer possibilities of the most delightful
acquaintance. It is not astonishing that she
insists upon clothing which conforms to the ideals
of this all-absorbing street and that she will unhesitatingly
deceive an uncomprehending family which does not recognize
its importance.
One such girl had for two years earned
money for clothing by filling regular appointments
in a disreputable saloon between the hours of six
and half-past seven in the evening. With this
money earned almost daily she bought the clothes of
her heart’s desire, keeping them with the saloon-keeper’s
wife. She demurely returned to her family for
supper in her shabby working clothes and presented
her mother with her unopened pay envelope every Saturday
night. She began this life at the age of fourteen
after her Polish mother had beaten her because she
had “elbowed” the sleeves and “cut
out” the neck of her ungainly calico gown in
a vain attempt to make it look “American.”
Her mother, who had so conscientiously punished a
daughter who was “too crazy for clothes,”
could never of course comprehend how dangerous a combination
is the girl with an unsatisfied love for finery and
the opportunities for illicit earning afforded on
the street. Yet many sad cases may be traced to
such lack of comprehension. Charles Booth states
that in England a large proportion of parents belonging
to the working and even lower middle classes, are
unacquainted with the nature of the lives led by their
own daughters, a result doubtless of the early freedom
of the street accorded city children. Too often
the mothers themselves are totally ignorant of covert
dangers. A few days ago I held in my hand a pathetic
little pile of letters written by a desperate young
girl of fifteen before she attempted to commit suicide.
These letters were addressed to her lover, her girl
friends, and to the head of the rescue home, but none
to her mother towards whom she felt a bitter resentment
“because she did not warn me.” The
poor mother after the death of her husband had gone
to live with a married daughter, but as the son-in-law
would not “take in two” she had told the
youngest daughter, who had already worked for a year
as an apprentice in a dressmaking establishment, that
she must find a place to live with one of her girl
friends. The poor child had found this impossible,
and three days after the breaking up of her home she
had fallen a victim to a white slave trafficker, who
had treated her most cruelly and subjected her to
unspeakable indignities. It was only when her
“protector” left the city, frightened by
the unwonted activity of the police, due to a wave
of reform, that she found her way to the rescue home,
and in less than five months after the death of her
father she had purchased carbolic acid and deliberately
“courted death for the nameless child”
and herself.
Another experience during which a
girl faces a peculiar danger is when she has lost
one “job” and is looking for another.
Naturally she loses her place in the slack season
and pursues her search at the very moment when positions
are hardest to find, and her un-employment is therefore
most prolonged. Perhaps nothing in our social
order is so unorganized and inchoate as our method,
or rather lack of method, of placing young people
in industry. This is obvious from the point of
view of their first positions when they leave school
at the unstable age of fourteen, or from the innumerable
places they hold later, often as high as ten a year,
when they are dismissed or change voluntarily through
sheer restlessness. Here again a girl’s
difficulty is often increased by the lack of sympathy
and understanding on the part of her parents.
A girl is often afraid to say that she has lost her
place and pretends to go to work each morning while
she is looking for a new one; she postpones telling
them at home day by day, growing more frantic as the
usual pay-day approaches. Some girls borrow from
loan sharks in order to take the customary wages to
their parents, others fall victims to unscrupulous
employment agencies in their eagerness to take the
first thing offered.
The majority of these girls answer
the advertisements in the daily papers as affording
the cheapest and safest way to secure a position.
These out-of-work girls are found, sometimes as many
as forty or fifty at a time, in the rest rooms of
the department stores, waiting for the new edition
of the newspapers after they have been the rounds of
the morning advertisements and have found nothing.
Of course such a possible field as
these rest rooms is not overlooked by the procurer,
who finds it very easy to establish friendly relations
through the offer of the latest edition of the newspaper.
Even pennies are precious to a girl out of work and
she is also easily grateful to anyone who expresses
an interest in her plight and tells her of a position.
Two representatives of the Juvenile Protective Association
of Chicago, during a period of three weeks, arrested
and convicted seventeen men and three women who were
plying their trades in the rest rooms of nine department
stores. The managers were greatly concerned over
this exposure and immediately arranged both for more
intelligent matrons and greater vigilance. One
of the less scrupulous stores voluntarily gave up
a method of advertising carried on in the rest room
itself where a demonstrator from “the beauty
counter” made up the faces of the patrons of
the rest room with the powder and paint procurable
in her department below. The out-of-work girls
especially availed themselves of this privilege and
hoped that their search would be easier when their
pale, woe-begone faces were “made beautiful.”
The poor girls could not know that a face thus made
up enormously increased their risks.
A number of girls also came early
in the morning as soon as the rest rooms were open.
They washed their faces and arranged their hair and
then settled to sleep in the largest and easiest chairs
the room afforded. Some of these were out-of-work
girls also determined to take home their wages at
the end of the week, each pretending to her mother
that she had spent the night with a girl friend and
was working all day as usual. How much of this
deception is due to parental tyranny and how much
to a sense of responsibility for younger children or
invalids, it is impossible to estimate until the number
of such recorded cases is much larger. Certain
it is that the long habit of obedience, as well as
the feeling of family obligation established from childhood,
is often utilized by the white slave trafficker.
Difficult as is the position of the
girl out of work when her family is exigent and uncomprehending,
she has incomparably more protection than the girl
who is living in the city without home ties. Such
girls form sixteen per cent. of the working women
of Chicago. With absolutely every penny of their
meagre wages consumed in their inadequate living, they
are totally unable to save money. That loneliness
and detachment which the city tends to breed in its
inhabitants is easily intensified in such a girl into
isolation and a desolating feeling of belonging nowhere.
All youth resents the sense of the enormity of the
universe in relation to the insignificance of the
individual life, and youth, with that intense self-consciousness
which makes each young person the very centre of all
emotional experience, broods over this as no older
person can possibly do. At such moments a black
oppression, the instinctive fear of solitude, will
send a lonely girl restlessly to walk the streets even
when she is “too tired to stand,” and when
her desire for companionship in itself constitutes
a grave danger. Such a girl living in a rented
room is usually without any place in which to properly
receive callers. An investigation was recently
made in Kansas City of 411 lodging-houses in which
young girls were living; less than 30 per cent. were
found with a parlor in which guests might be received.
Many girls quite innocently permit young men to call
upon them in their bedrooms, pitifully disguised as
“sitting-rooms,” but the danger is obvious,
and the standards of the girl gradually become lowered.
Certainly during the trying times
when a girl is out of work she should have much more
intelligent help than is at present extended to her;
she should be able to avail herself of the state employment
agencies much more than is now possible, and the work
of the newly established vocational bureaus should
be enormously extended.
When once we are in earnest about
the abolition of the social evil, society will find
that it must study industry from the point of view
of the producer in a sense which has never been done
before. Such a study with reference to industrial
legislation will ally itself on one hand with the
trades-union movement, which insists upon a living
wage and shorter hours for the workers, and also upon
an opportunity for self-direction, and on the other
hand with the efficiency movement, which would refrain
from over-fatiguing an operator as it would from over-speeding
a machine. In addition to legislative enactment
and the historic trade-union effort, the feebler and
newer movement on the part of the employers is being
reinforced by the welfare secretary, who is not only
devising recreational and educational plans, but is
placing before the employer much disturbing information
upon the cost of living in relation to the pitiful
wages of working girls. Certainly employers are
growing ashamed to use the worn-out, hypocritical pretence
of employing only the girl “protected by home
influences” as a device for reducing wages.
Help may also come from the consumers, for an increasing
number of them, with compunctions in regard to tempted
young employees, are not only unwilling to purchase
from the employer who underpays his girls and thus
to share his guilt, but are striving in divers ways
to modify existing conditions.
As working women enter fresh fields
of labor which ever open up anew as the old fields
are submerged behind them, society must endeavor to
speedily protect them by an amelioration of the economic
conditions which are now so unnecessarily harsh and
dangerous to health and morals. The world-wide
movement for establishing governmental control of
industrial conditions is especially concerned for working
women. Fourteen of the European countries prohibit
all night work for women and almost every civilized
country in the world is considering the number of
hours and the character of work in which women may
be permitted to safely engage.
Although amelioration comes about
so slowly that many young girls are sacrificed each
year under conditions which could so easily and reasonably
be changed, nevertheless it is apparently better to
overcome the dangers in this new and freer life, which
modern industry has opened to women, than it is to
attempt to retreat into the domestic industry of the
past; for all statistics of prostitution give the largest
number of recruits for this life as coming from domestic
service and the second largest number from girls who
live at home with no definite occupation whatever.
Therefore, although in the economic aspect of the social
evil more than in any other, do we find ground for
despair, at the same time we discern, as nowhere else,
the young girl’s stubborn power of resistance.
Nevertheless, the most superficial survey of her surroundings
shows the necessity for ameliorating, as rapidly as
possible, the harsh economic conditions which now environ
her.
That steadily increasing function
of the state by which it seeks to protect its workers
from their own weakness and degradation, and insists
that the livelihood of the manual laborer shall not
be beaten down below the level of efficient citizenship,
assumes new forms almost daily. From the human
as well as the economic standpoint there is an obligation
resting upon the state to discover how many victims
of the white slave traffic are the result of social
neglect, remedial incapacity, and the lack of industrial
safeguards, and how far discontinuous employment and
non-employment are factors in the breeding of discouragement
and despair.
Is it because our modern industrialism
is so new that we have been slow to connect it with
the poverty and vice all about us? The socialists
talk constantly of the relation of economic law to
destitution and point out the connection between industrial
maladjustment and individual wrongdoing, but certainly
the study of social conditions, the obligation to
eradicate vice, cannot belong to one political party
or to one economic school. It must be recognized
as a solemn obligation of existing governments, and
society must realize that economic conditions can
only be made more righteous and more human by the unceasing
devotion of generations of men.