Evening Star Newspaper, June 18, 1933, Page 69

THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D. C, JUNE 18 1933. 3 ] & A New Champion for the Forgotten Woman BY FLORA G. ORR. II UST whom do you mean by ‘the for- gotten woman?’” It was the clear, quiet voice of the Secretary of Labor, Miss Frances Perkins, asking the ques- tion. “I mean the woman who i out of work, Mme. Secretary, the woman who is suffering somewhere in silence, knowing the full bitter meaning of both economic and mental depression; the woman who cannot, like the man who has nothing to do and no- where to go, stand in bread lines or on the street corners asking for your spare change, if any. “I mean, too, the woman who has been, by the conditions of the last few years, forced back into the most horrible sweatshop labor, working frightfully long hours with so little pay that it is virtual slavery.” “That woman,” replies Miss Perkins, “is not forgotten—not by me. I know too much about what she has been enduring, ever to forget.” The Secretary is empbhatic and decisive, sin- cere and deeply sympathetic. She says: “We hope to be able to do things for that woman, as well as for her brother. We will not cease trying until a happier day has ar- rived. In the meantime, of course, we Iust ask everybody to help.” ILED with the Woman’s Bureau in the Labor Department is information galore, if you would learn something of the difficulties under which millions of women are carrying on today. It is a conservative estimate that 2,000,000 out of the 11,000,000 normally employed now have no source of income. It is a safe guess that at least one-tenth of these have children, fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers or invalid husbands dependent upon them. “Where do the homeless, jobless women go, Miss Perkins?” “Let us glance at some of the recent reports. Here is one from Boston. Here it is estimated there are more than 20,000 women out of work. Only about one-fourth or one-fifth of these are on the relief agency books. “How are the rest getting along? Relatives and friends are helping in many instances, of course. Some, without children or other ties, are working somewhere just for board and room. “We hear that as many as six girls are oc- cupying one room together. The kindly land- lady has been the unsung friend in need for hundreds of girls who are up against it. “Probably some of the younger ones have gone back to the families from which they came. This may be unpleasant, but both the family and the girl are forced to make the best of the situation. “Here is an official statement from Atlanta, Ga Here one-half of the unemployed are women—all classes of workers—stenographers, clerks, bookkeepers, cashiers, typists, waitresses, telepbone operators, saleswomen, factory work- ers, domestic helpers, nurses. “Read this sentence: ‘The morale of the women stands up better under economic stresses than does that of the men.’ “St. Louis has a bureau for homeless women and an independent shelter where several hun- dred women are fed free of charge daily. Many walk miles to get one square meal per day at this lunch room. They have no car fare. “Washington said it had 10,000 unemployed women in December. There are more now, of course. Many of these are college trained. ‘The beds in the Salvation Army’s emergency home and the few in the Policewomen’s Bureau were filled by destitute women every night this past Winter. The Travelers’ Aid and religious and fraternal organizations have sheltered hun- drecs. “So it goes. Hard to think about, isn't it? In New York newspapers have told of women who, because of scanty funds, have spent the nights in the subways, changing from one train to another until morning.” TH.E specter of unemployed is haunting not only the unskilled and factory worker. The Committee on Unemployment and Re- lief for Chemists and Chemical Engineers in New York City has on its list 900 man and woman chemists, all either college graduates or with at least four years’ experience. The com- mittee feels that there are probably 900 more An Interview With the First Lady of the Cabinet on theTragic Exploitation of Femi- nine Workers—MW hat the Conditions Really Are and Her Aims to Correct Them. Miss Frances Perkins, Secretary of Labor, who flghts for the forgotten woman, as well as for the forgotten man. in similar straits who are not registered. It is estimated that about 100 of the 1,800 would be women. The Women's Bureau in the Labor Depart- ment has been scanning questionnaires issued by the National Association of Travelers’ Aid Socleties to find how various cities are meeting the problem of the unemployed, unattached woman. Sixty-four cities and towns showed by their answers that they are awakening to the seriousness of the situation. But more than half of the 64 communities EXAMINATIONS FOR BY WEARE HOLBROOK. HERE 1is just time, before the Sum- mer vacation begins, for papa and mama to take a short home-study course in general culture. Dust off the unabridged dictionary and unlock the glass doors that guard the ency- clopedia. In a week or two the great institu- tions of learning will let loose a horde of highly educated young people, and it behooves the old folks at home to prepare themselves for this unbarbarian invasion. The children will return to the parental roof—more sophisticated, more critical and more independent in speech and manner than when they left it last Fall They must not be disappointed in what they find there Mrs. Lummock had never forgotten the shock she experienced years ago when, returning from an Eastern boarding school, she realized that her father’s grammar was not all that it might have been. Nor had she forgotten her embarrassment when her mother, in the pres- ence of the headmistress of the boarding school, proclaimed the virtues of Marie Corelli’s novels. “But. mama,” she had protested almost tear- fully when they were alone, “you shouldn't say you like them, even if you do. They're utter trash.” “They’re very pretty stories,” her mother as- serted, “and they're moral, too—which is more than I can say for this Oswald Wilde that you're reading.” S for Mr. Lummock, he still remembered his distress at discovering, when he had come home from college for the Christmas holi- days, that his grandfather wore made-up neck- ties and believed firmly in the therapeutic val- ues of the horse-chestnut. Furthermore, he caught his own father remarking that the world was a small place, after all. So naturally, when little Ronald came to brighten their household, Mr. and Mrs. Lum- mock resolved to keep up with their offspring, mentally and physically. They would never give him occasion to be ashamed of his par- ents. They would treat him as an equal, with that rare parental camaraderie you read about; they would grow up with him persistently beat- ing down that invisible barrier which children erect against their elders. “It will be like living our lives over again,” they declared happily, “from the very beginning.” The intellectual companionship started al- most at once. Mrs. Lummock read aloud to little Ronald—stories of Peter Rabbit and other zoological heroes, fairy tales and several of were either indifferent or openly hostile to the idea of assuming the care of homeless, tran- sient women. Only two cities, New York and Pittsburgh, had definite setups for a central registration bureau, but a number of others had arrangements whereby they were doing fairly good work in affording relief to this class of the would-be-employed. “Why is it, Mme. Secretary, when there is all this hue and cry about too little work, that those who do have employment are being forced to work nights and Sundays in order to bold their jobs?"” And the Labor Secretary replies: “Just one of the strange paradoxes of buman behavior. When times get difficult and con- sumers begin to hold back their money, certain short-sighted employers get panicky. They try to continue to make profits by getting more labor for their money. “The law of supply and demand aids them at such a time in the prosecution of such pol- icies. What can a worker do? She knows if she quits, some one else will be glad of her job, no matter what the wage. VI[CVEN employers who are reluctant to fol« low suit and thus work their labor over- time with starvation wages are up against the competition of others who are in business with selfishness and inhumanity. “Human nature does not reason well en masse. Employers cut off their own noses when they decrease the purchasing power of potential consumers by drastic wage cutting. Thoughtful persons know that the most enlightened seifish- ness would protect itself by a policy of high wage levels. “There remains only one thing to do, as I see it, to protect the gpod employer and the worker. Have minimum requirement labor laws and enforce them to the letter. “Here is a letter I received from a very fine woman employer just a few days ago. Read what she says. It is very interesting.” Herewith is the letter, in part: “Dear Miss Perkins: For a year I have been active in trying to get legislation in Massa- chusetts to enforce the minimum wage law . . . “All high-grade manufacturers are willing to pay their employes a living wage, but too many of us are nearing bankruptcy on account of sweatshop competition . . . “In my investigations I have found that many owners of sweatshops today formerly were em- ployes in some factory. But, now that they own a business, they do not hesitate to crush the lives of their employes . . . “I realize what a tremendous task you have ahead of you to straighten out the tangle. “Every day I pray that our business may be saved so that faithful employes who have been with us for 22 years may not be deprived of their livelihood.” Of the 11,000,000 women who have been working in the last few years prior to 1929, it is startling to learn that only a minority have ever made a decent living wage even in our prosperous years, and all too few of the women in industry have ever enjoyed a work- ing day as short as eight hours, or a working week held down to 48 hours. Women's Bu- reau investigations have constantly proved this point. A work day of eight hours or less was re- ported for only one-fifth of the 227,000 wornen working in 2,700 factories, stores and laun- dries scattered throughout 16 States which were studied by the Women's Bureau during the period 1919 to 1928. Twelve States were surveyed by the Women'’s Bureau from 1921 to 1929, and it was found that the median of week’s earnings of full- time woman workers ranged from $16.25 to $9.80. Half of the women in each case earned less than the median. In the Fall of 1931, the Women's Bureau studied the contract sewing shops 'in Con- necticut. USINESS in most of the shops was conducted on a hand-to-mouth scale. Rush orders were the rule, One week the entire plant might work overtime, and the next week the shop would be practically closed. These official investigations of the bureau tend to report average conditions, whereas indi- vidual case histories are much more heart- rending. Miss Helen P. Gans of the New York City Consumers’ League has reported women making 50 cents a day working on rugs for which they receive $1 each. Finishers on velvet pajamas receive only 40 cents a dozen, she said, and cannot finish a dozen peirs in one day. An ex- pert lamp shade maker, formerly commanding $35 per week, now receives $4.62 for & 40- hour week, binding tops and bottoms of lamp shades. Cases have been cited in Connecticut where it was said girls were paid less than $1 a week. Certain employers have a scheme, it is claimed, of enticing beginners to come and work for nothing to learn the trade. Girls are fired each two or three weeks snd & new crop of “stue dents” taken ou. ’ THE COLLEGE EXIT the more decorous classic myths. Then when little Ronald had learned his letters she let him read aloud to her. He read very well, due to the fact that he knew most of the stories by heart, and Mrs. Lummock listened as atten- tively as if she had never heard them a hun- dred times before. When Mrs. Lummock found Ronald and his little schoolmates playing games in the house she never dismissed them, as so many pareuts do, by saying, “You children better go out in the yard and play.” On the contrary, she joined in their sport wholeheartedly and be- came “one of the gang,” as she put it. She even invented several jolly games herself; but their popularity was short-lived, and for some reason Ronald always assented eagerly when- ever one of his schoolmates said, “Let's go over to my house and play.” ATER on, Mr. Lummock and Ronald -went on long fishing trips—just the two of them, father and son. Mr. Lummock didn’t care much about fishing, but he felt that it was his duty to share his son’s youthful enthusiams and be a real companion to the lad. Ronald didn’t care much about fishing, either; he made & polite pretense of enjoying it, however, merely to humor his father; the old boy seemed to get such a kick out of it. During Ronald’s early teens Mr. Lummock tried earnestly to maintain mental contacts with his son by reading the same books that Ronald read. These were an endless series of volumes describing the adventures of a quartet known as the Internal-Combustion Boys, led by an incredible hero named Ned. Dutifully Mr. Lummock followed the exploits of the In- ternal-Combustion Boys Afloat, Ashore, Aloft and Underseas, from pole to pole and even as far afield as the planet Mars. But somehow 1t didn’t bring him much closer to Ronald. Although the Lummocks agreed that their son should have every educational advantage, they were reluctant to send him to college last Fall. It was so far from home, and he would be away so long. Though they were still un- scathed by any parental inferiority complex, they feared the worst. Suppose the higher edu« cation should lift Ronald beyond their mental reach? Perhaps when he came home he would view them with new and more critical eyest there might be a note of condescension in his tone as he talked to them and a slight air of Continued qn Thirteonth Page