The school buildings are very imposing. One finds no difficulty in locating them at night even at a distance of two or three blocks. A great dark building occupying about one-third of the noisy, crowded block, gives notice to the visitor that she is headed in the right direction. The school always looks impressively quiet and remote. Few windows are lighted and only one door is open. After picking her way through crowded streets, stepping around small children, narrowly avoiding collisions with innumerable boys and girls darting in and out among the crowds, the visitor finds the inside of the building quite deserted, and her footsteps echo in the great, gray, empty basement. She can find no one to direct her to the principal, but presently seeing a few girls straggling up the fireproof stairs she follows them to the assembly room, a waste of empty desks. At one end is a long desk where the principal is seated. Often she has been teaching all day in a day school. Soon a girl enters slowly and hesitatingly, and slips into a chair near the door, where she stays until the principal turns to her with, “What can I do for you?” Bashfully the girl comes up to the desk and whispers down into it that she wants “to take up millinery.”—“Your name?”—“Sadie Schwartz.”—“Address?”—“— East ——.”—“Age?”—“Fourteen.”—“Have you left school?”—“Yes.” Sometimes the question is asked, “Are you working? At what occupation?” Sometimes it is omitted. Then the principal concludes, “Here are two cards. Keep one and give one to the teacher. The millinery class is down the hall on the right-hand side.” This is the extent of the consultation before entering a class.
After the girl has been in the class a short time, she learns that most of the girls are taking the course so that they can learn to make their own hats. More and more girls come as Easter approaches. They can stay as long as they like, and go when they like. They can even keep on making their own hats for two years or more.
“It is rather unfortunate that the board of education supplies the materials,” said one teacher; “because I have known of cases where the girls come simply to get a hat and then leave. For example, I know of one case where a girl at the end of a few weeks asked to be transferred from the millinery class and when asked her reason, said that she wanted to go into dressmaking because ‘I’ve got a hat and now I would like a dress to match.’”
“You don’t learn anything in evening school,” said a girl who was in trade; “every night it is a little on a hat, and one hat a year.”
During the year 1908-9, a well-known educator asked the following question in a course upon social life and the school curriculum: “Upon what questions in the community would you desire to be informed so as to adapt a course of study to the social conditions in that community?” That question sums up the problem of industrial education. The schools which have just been described exemplify some of the chief methods advocated at present for making this adaptation. A study of them also shows what happens when there is little or no information, or desire for information, about the social conditions of the community in which such courses are being given. One of the best known city superintendents of schools writes in a recent report:[33]
“The establishment of trade schools by the public school authorities is now a matter of discussion in every manufacturing city in the land. Manufacturers and philanthropists alike are clamoring for the introduction of industrial training into the public schools.... The true reason for industrial education lies ... in the fundamental conception of modern education—to fit the child for his life environment.... In the public discussion of this subject there has been much exhortation, much denunciation, much eloquence, but little practical wisdom or suggestion.”
Such a quotation is itself full of practical wisdom, for it goes to the root of the difficulty in stating that the object of education is to fit the child for his environment. Yet if this is the purpose of schools, it is obvious that accurate knowledge of the environment is a first essential in educational plans. This raises a fundamental question in regard to trade-school training. Should we not start a department of investigation even before we form the trade school, and should we not continue such a department as long as the school continues? If the trade schools which everyone is advocating are not based upon accurate knowledge of the conditions they have to meet, it seems safe to say that they will result only in the disappointment of the girls, the increased exasperation of the employers, and the humiliation of the schools. Familiarity with some establishments, and “being in touch” with trade is not knowledge of trade conditions. Trade is complex. Preparing for trade is like preparing for the weather. You never can tell what is going to happen next. Weather prophets are not infallible, yet experience has proved that it is desirable at least to attempt to work out a scientific method of studying weather conditions. There seems to be no good reason why we should not apply scientific methods to the study of social as well as physical conditions.
For instance, investigation of the millinery trade proved it to be an industry in process of transition from home to factory, with all the confusion in processes that is involved in such transition. Yet only one of all the schools studied made any attempt to discover the demands of this trade. Investigation showed that an understanding of industrial conditions is as necessary for efficiency as ability to make a hat. Yet only one school tried to give an understanding of those conditions, and the time given to such study was totally inadequate. Investigation proved that one cause contributing to short seasons and low wages was the oversupply of workers. Yet there were more classes in millinery than in any other trade in the city, except one. Investigation revealed the fact that instead of specialization, the ability to adapt is of primary importance to the worker. Yet psychology and practical experience alike make it clear that such ability cannot be given in a six months’ course.
This brings us to the second factor in the problem about which there is little information—the workers themselves. When the whole subject of industrial training is in such an experimental stage it is unfortunate that only one school has attempted to keep systematic records of pupils. To fail to keep such records is like trying to erect a building with no knowledge of the materials. If such records had been kept it is probable that the attempt to train immature fourteen-year-old girls in six months for a trade like millinery would have been abandoned long ago. It is even possible that the advocates of trade education would have been driven to realize that efficiency in industry, as in everything else, depends not upon a desk knowledge of the three R’s, but upon a sound, vital, general education which gives power of adaptation. Even a slight acquaintance with women workers in industry brings out the fact that they lack this power, which comes from training of the mind. Why have girls been permitted to leave school without receiving this training? If the first essential for fitness to survive in modern life is the adaptability which comes from a well-trained mind, and if the function of the schools is to develop such fitness, are they giving the required training? If not, can the curriculum be changed so that the general schooling shall be more real, more connected with life? It is a matter of concern to school authorities that so many children leave the grammar school before graduation. Out of 201 millinery workers, 104 began work when they were between fourteen and sixteen years of age; eight started before they were fourteen; twenty left school before they were fourteen. Of these 201 girls, 152 attended school in New York City. Of these 152, eight attended parochial schools, 144 public schools. Of the 144 who attended public schools, only thirty-three were graduated. Such facts are used as arguments for starting trade schools which shall prepare girls and boys for their life work. To some of us they seem to be cogent reasons for trying to discover how these grammar schools can be revitalized so that the graduates will be prepared for life. It is said that the pupils leave because they do not see that school is preparing them to earn their own living. The one hundred millinery workers who had studied in trade classes said that the instruction there did not help them to earn their living.
Where does the fault lie? A study of one trade in which girls are working suggests that reorganization of general education is the most vital factor in industrial training. This suggestion may be mistaken; for it is based upon knowledge of conditions in only three trades for women—millinery, and two others investigated at the same time. It is evident that the question can be conclusively answered only after exhaustive study of girls, of schools and of trades. From the point of view of manufacturers, workers and educators, such investigation is of primary importance. To those who are eager for plans by which individual girls may get training immediately, the comparatively slow gathering of information does not appeal. Nevertheless, such information will have to be obtained sometime. Such investigation should be systematically made. It is not easy, but it is practicable, if we reduce the problem to its simplest terms. We should divide up each city into comparatively small units for investigation, the village communities, as it were, that make up the city. By taking the schools as the center of these communities and by studying the pupils—their personal and family history, their education, and their experiences in trade,—it would be possible to collect information which would give a sound basis either for reconstruction of the general school education or for the formation of a system of trade schools.