by Fabiola DeCaratachea | Sep 8, 2014 | stories
My grandfather was a campesino in Mexico. He worked the land and his children worked beside him all of his life. He worked hard. He worked all of his life. What my grandfather often said, “Work is your best friend. It’ll be the only one that vouches for you.” He taught me that hard work was a core value and that has left an impression in my life and I know that I’ve inherited that work ethic and feel very proud of it. What he taught me about work was also that it was only part of his life, not all of it. Mi abuelo aprendio a leer a los 17 an~os. That’s right…he learned to read at 17 years of age and in fact mostly taught himself. And while he was an avid reader he was never able to write fluently. He read. He read anything that he could get his hands on and especially history books. Work dominated his life, but still he found space and time to learn to read. Work was what he needed to support his family; work was what he needed to buy medicines for his cancer stricken wife; work was what allowed him to hold his communities respect; but reading…that he did for himself. I work hard. I do. I come from a campesino grandfather and farm worker parents, I know hard work and I work hard every day. Reading – that’s what I do for myself and my grandfather taught me about...
by Don Washington | Sep 7, 2014 | stories
My grandmother came to poverty in her 30’s. She was through dint of circumstance forced to work as a domestic housekeeper and this was a woman who did the New York Times Sunday crossword puzzle in ink in something under an hour. Being a black woman in Texas in the 1950’s comes with severe drawbacks. She worked 12 and 15 hour days and she would say from time to time: “If I had a union I wouldn’t have to do this… but I’m alone and one person by themselves is worth what their master makes of them.” So all her days she believed in unions that she could not join. She was the first person to tell me about the Pullman strike and the first person to tell me about A. Phillip Randolph. When I do this work I think of her and the life she knew she could not have that she was so very proud that I was and still am fighting for… a better world that is union...
by leslie holt | Sep 7, 2014 | stories
My father’s parents, Wilhelm and Eva Holt, were family doctors in the 20’s and 30’s in Zarow, a small German town in lower Silesia. After World War II Zarow became part of Poland. As it became clear that Hitler and the Nazis were dominating the country, and the threat of war was looming, they decided they needed to leave. The planning process took several years. They arrived in the US in July 1939 with their two sons who were 9 and 15 at the time. They were required to recertify for the US medical boards. While they essentially had to restart their medical education, they placed their sons in Quaker sponsored foster care for two years. The family reunited in a small town in upstate New York where my grandparents practiced as family doctors again. This is one of the suitcases in which they carried the few belongings they were allowed to bring to the...
by Violetta Hokman | Sep 7, 2014 | stories
My maternal grandma, Letty, used to lay in the dark with me and tell me stories of her youth. She became a teacher at the age of 16 and, at one point, drove by horse and buggy to three different one room school houses in rural WV to teach young ones. As she got older, she obtained a teacher’s certificate and taught children at Vienna School in Vienna, WV. She built a home and provided for her mother and her siblings. Once she married and started having children, she no longer formally taught..but she would continue to teach her grandchildren how to create ovals for writing, latin names for flowers and fruits that were in the yard, and history. She always told me no matter what I chose to do for a living to love what I do and to keep learning. She told me that as a woman, I could choose to work at any type of job I wanted and there was no shame in any type of job. It took all types of jobs for a community to thrive. I was fortunate that she was able to attend my college graduation (she was in her 80’s). It was her first one and she died shortly thereafter. Forty-one years later, I am still learning, still working, still trying to make sure our youth still have opportunities. If grandma could find a way to teach in a one room school house by horse and buggy in the snow, I find a way to make sure my presence at my job is a...
by Susan Dillberg | Sep 7, 2014 | stories
My grandparents immigrated from southern Italy. My grandfather arrived first in 1912. He worked for Swifts Meat Co in Cambridge, Mass. It was his job to salt and pack the hams into huge wooden barrels to be cured. He stood about 5 feet 2 inches tall and would practically need to climb into the barrels to place the hams. He never drove or owned a car and would take buses to work. On his salary he bought a house raised and supported 5 children, a wife and father-in-law. Plus sent money to his widowed mother to help with his family in Italy. My grandfather taught us to be hard working, honest and caring and these are lessons that we have passed down to our...
