Philadelphia Inquirer – Jan. 3, 2011
This time of year many of us are able to enjoy a break from our labors, the company of relatives and friends, the chance to renew old ties, and much more food than we need. We may also pay a bit more attention than usual to those around us who struggle to maintain themselves and their families, but amid the relative plenty we feel less kinship with them than we should.
If my students are any indication, part of the problem our society faces in dealing with the gulf that separates the haves from the have-nots is a lack of appreciation for the impact the people we see over the holidays have on our social and economic status. We underestimate the degree to which our closest personal relationships buoy us up, especially when events conspire against us.
The 11th graders in our American history course recently studied the records of the Philadelphia almshouse for the year 1800. The institution served as a homeless shelter, orphanage, nursing home, hospital, soup kitchen, workhouse, and more. Opened in 1732, a half-century after the founding of the colony, it was the first publicly funded refuge for the indigent in North America.
The clerks at the almshouse noted the name, age and circumstances of every person admitted or discharged. The frankness of their comments and their obvious sympathy for the individuals and families who passed through their doors (and occasionally clambered over the walls) make the docket a rich source of information about poor people for whom virtually no written record exists.
The almshouse admitted all types: babies, the aged, black, white, sick, healthy, former slaves, revolutionary war veterans, couples with children, and runaways. The students noted the most common factors that brought this diverse group together: physical and mental illness, abandonment, alcohol abuse, and domestic violence.
But only a few of them detected an even more significant pattern:
“Admitted, William Wooten, an Old Man, striving to make a living by picking and gathering of rags, but now being feeble and unable to contribute to his support and at the same time destitute of friends is sent here. Debit city.”
“Admitted, Ann Wallace afflicted with a cancer and not able to contribute towards her own support, at the same time being poor and destitute of friends is sent here. Debit city.”
“Admitted, Elizabeth Campbell sick with a pain and dizziness in her head, no person to take care of her, was sent here.”
“Admitted, Ignatius Waterman, his wife and two children. Said Ignatius is much afflicted with the rheumatism, which renders him incapable of following his business, and being poor, needy and destitute of friendly assistance, had no other alternative for relief and support of himself and his family.”
In 1800, of the 41,000 people who lived in this city, more than 1,100 were admitted to the almshouse. Virtually all were “destitute of friendly assistance.”
In the wake of our recent recession, more adult children have postponed leaving home or moved back in; more families have downsized; more people have chosen to combine living expenses, and more workers are sharing jobs. More of us are taking advantage of the friendly assistance available through our social networks, not “Facebook friends” but the kind that really count.
Hey, happy 2011 and hope everything is going really well with the back to school season. I was just reading your editorial and really getting into it, especially because it reminded me so much of how you pushed us to dig into hard sources for the perspective you could only get that way.
If its alright, I just wanted to ask why you included the dig at “Facebook friends”; it’s less whether its true or not and more that I read it and it reminded me of when I used to close my essays with little tangential comments and you would circle them and write, “does this contribute?”
Anyway, all the best,
Tony
Tony –
Happy New Year to you!
Thanks for the note!
Point taken about the Facebook reference.
I was trying to distinguish between the very loose way in which people define “friends” in the age of Facebook and the kinds of “friends” who would be willing to take you in when you were sick and you needed a roof over your head and something to eat.
I guess it didn’t quite work. Thanks for feedback. I really appreciate it.
Nothing like thoughtful former students to keep us honest.
Grant
It’s amazing how we manage to keep the poor, the sick, the elderly, the lonely invisible through most of the year, often with their own complicity (in an affluent society it is, if not a crime, an embarrassment to be poor, sick or old). What bothers me most is our ostentatious show of compassion and generosity for them during the holidays, which, no doubt, make us feel good about ourselves. Then, with the holidays over, we “lock” them away for another year.
Interesting article on the Almshouse in today’s Inquirer. It should be eye-openers for many of your students, and no doubt others reading your article.
Best wishes for continued success.
Regards,
Connie Houchins
Holland, Bucks County
Connie –
I think it was an eye opener for the kids, to see those references to being “destitute of friendly assistance” repeated over and over.
But the surprising thing was that most of the kids didn’t notice them the first time they worked through the data.
Grant
Your recent Philadelphia Inquirer article on “friendly assistance” is most appreciated. In fact, it further supported the recently published information in Harvard Women’s Health Watch (Vol 18, Number 4, Dec 2010), that describes the health benefits of strong relationships.
My son ( a neuroscientist) and I have often talked at length about the potential biological implications of quality relationships and the effect meaningful interactions in our life may have on triggering the release of “stress-reducing” hormones.” It is fascinating, and the more I read, the more I am convinced – there IS power in positive thinking – and friendship does make a difference!
Thank you for reminding me..
Phyllis
I’m thankful for your mention of 19th century poor-relief. I applaud the fact that you are teaching your students about this never-mentioned aspect of American social history. I became interested in almshouses during the healthcare reform debate a year ago. I saw a lot of healthcare history in the papers & heard descriptions on radio programs. I stumbled upon a book at the Free Library called “In the Shadow of the Poorhouse” by a Penn prof Michael Katz. I highly recommend it to you.
Since you are at Friends’ Central, you should incorporate into your lectures the work of Quakers in creating the first almshouse in Phila (perhaps you do, but didn’t mention it in the article). I am a great admirer of Lucrecia Mott and other Quakers who showed compassion to the Phila poor, including then-despised immigrants and blacks.
Did you & your students do your research at the Historical Society of PA?
Congratulations on getting an intelligent article into the Inquirer. This is a perspective Americans should be aware of and more professors should teach. All we ever hear about are the ‘pull yourself up from your bootstraps’ Horatio Alger stories. That is far from the complete story.
Thank you for your comment and the book recommendation.
I will get myself a copy of “In the Shadow…”
We actually did talk about the first almshouse founded by Quakers twenty years before the city funded one, and focused on the latter only because that was data we had at hand. It was included in a book called “Life in Early Philadelphia” by Billy Smith.
Inquirer, Letter to the editor, 1/7/11
Young people making connections
Thanks to Grant Calder for his thoughtful and perceptive analysis of the manner in which young people, willing and able to effect positive change, can truly make a difference in the lives of people who need their strength, their sensitivity, and their compassion (“Thankful for ‘friendly assistance,'” Monday). Too often, as Calder points out, frequent impersonal connections (via Facebook) fall far short of bridging the divide that separates those who enjoy certain privileges and those who continually confront adversity.
Peter C. McVeigh
Oreland