Men and Things

by Henry A. Atkinson

Photo from National Child Labor Committee.

The workers in the cigar industry carry into their trade no moral enthusiasm, for they are doing something that is not absolutely requisite for human welfare.

Some Results of the Work. A little girl in the community where one of the church homes is situated was arrested for being a vagrant. Her face was dirty; she was barefooted and wore a torn, buttonless, brown gingham dress that was positively filthy and which was held in place by a safety-pin fastened in such a way as to give the whole dress a weird, elfish look. The child’s picture was taken on the day that she was arrested and committed to the care of the church. This picture is a typical portrayal of childish rebellion against life and all that it holds in store for the human race. Her mother was a worthless woman, and the child had never known a father. All her life she had really lived on the streets of the city. Her case was brought before the Juvenile Court; she was put on probation and given into the care of the workers in one of the little Protestant churches. She objected to having her hair combed and refused to wash her face. Those in charge of the home were almost in despair of being able to do anything with her. However, they won her confidence by allowing her to go to a party where they had a phonograph and motion pictures. They told her she could have all the cake and lemonade she wanted; so once in her life under happier conditions she had a chance for simple enjoyment and to be her natural self. From that time on she began to take an interest in herself and to gain in intelligence. Two years later she had her picture taken and it was exhibited as the picture of the typical Cuban girl, for she had developed into a perfect little beauty and showed capability. This story illustrates better than almost anything else the infinite possibilities in the Cuban people.

Some one said of the cigarmakers in Tampa that they were not Americans and never could be, and further stated: “They are interested only in their theaters, their clubs, their cock-fights, their coffee-houses, and their gambling rooms.” It is true that they are interested in these things; because they are by temperament a pleasure-loving, happy-go-lucky sort of people and these resources are the expression of their idea of life. If the church would meet the needs of these people, it must be able to appreciate them, and sympathetically to interpret life for them. They can all become, as indeed most of them are now, good American citizens, but they will never be like the Americans in our Northern cities. We must allow them to develop along the lines of their own racial interests. How can we ever expect to be friends with Latin America if we cannot learn how to be good neighbors to the Latin Americans living in our own land?

The Challenge of Conditions in the Factories. The conditions in the factories are not ideal by any means, nor is the nature of the business such as to promote the highest type of character. The work is hard, and it is performed in a heavy atmosphere poisoned with the breath of many individuals, and vitiated by the odors of human bodies and damp tobacco. The rooms where cigars are made have to be kept closed to save the weed; and every window is down, and no matter how hot the weather, not a breath of fresh air is allowed to enter the place. The atmosphere is so bad that it gives one a headache even to pass through; imagine what it would mean to spend your life working in such a place.

Tuberculosis makes deep inroads in the ranks of the workers. Statistics show that the proportion of mortality among the cigar workers from tuberculosis of the lungs is higher than in almost any other occupation. Between the ages of 15 and 24 the proportionate mortality from tuberculosis is 48.5 per cent. of the total deaths as compared with 33.8 per cent. for all occupations.[3] The reason for this is that the workers must sit for long hours at a table in a bad atmosphere and surrounded by others, many of whom are suffering from tuberculosis. There are nearly 50,000 members of the union and these men have been fighting for years for a betterment of conditions. However, just as in other trades, the employers claim that it is impossible to make cigars without sacrifice of the working men and women. The workers have accepted it there, as other workers have accepted it in other occupations, with the stoic attitude that marks so many of the laborers of our country.

[3] U. S. Bulletin of Labor, 1917.

One of the most noted social workers in America, a woman with strength and charm of character, who is a leader in every radical movement, began her life in a cigar factory. Later on she married a man of wealth and has lived a life of ease ever since. She says of her early experiences: “For twelve years I was a cigar worker in Cleveland. I was ill-nourished and poorly clad. I worked at night as well as by day to help piece out my family’s existence. I never had anything I wanted.” This might be said of a great many of the cigar workers and their families. The only difference would be that she did not tell all of her story. In addition to the long hours there is an undermining of the health that goes with it. Now all these people are working for some one’s pleasure. They are making luxuries. The most radical person I ever knew in my life was an eighteen-year-old girl whose parents had lost their money. She was forced to go to work in a cigar factory when she was twelve years old. She was bitter toward life and had no faith or confidence in anything or in any person. Said she, “When I look around and see people who have all the money and all the clothes and all the good things that I want and can never have, I know that conditions are unjust and must be changed. I don’t care what it costs; I am going to do my part in fighting and agitating until there is a change.” This is an attitude that is now growing very common. There are deep-seated forces at work perpetuating these ideas. By valuing things more than men these conditions are made a permanent part of our life.

Furs. “Why do you want to wear furs in the summer-time?” I asked a young lady. It was an extremely hot day and she was wearing a white dress with very short sleeves and cut low in the neck, but she had a fox fur around her neck; there was quite a margin between the lower edge of her fur and the upper edge of her dress. “Why,” she replied, “I think it is pretty, don’t you?” This fur had come on a long journey and gone through many processes before it came into her hands. Many men and women had labored to produce it. The man who had caught the fox probably had a line of traps stretched over nine or ten miles of some stream in the northern part of Canada or Alaska. All through the bitter cold of the winter he had lived alone in a cabin, and day after day had tramped that line to take out the animals that had been caught. Bringing them back to his cabin he skinned them; turned the hide over a piece of board and stood it behind the stove to cure. Later the pelts were brought out of the wilderness and sold into the hands of a group of fur workers. They were then more fully cured, and passed on to the makers of scarfs. All of these workers were producing a luxury.