Thursday, October 16, 2014

Mansions to Sell and Mouths to Feed

I have been watching the first season of Boardwalk Empire with my trial membership to Amazon Prime (yes, the trial membership is totally selling me on the Prime thing). The show is excellent. The writing, acting, costumes, set design, everything. There are also some really thought-provoking scenes, one of which I haven't stopped thinking about.

A little background (without any spoilers I hope): Margaret Schroeder is a young woman, recently widowed, with two young children, living in Atlantic City in the early 1920's. She has had a difficult life - she is an Irish immigrant, poor, and her late husband was very abusive - but she is determined, intelligent and brave. She is somewhat politically-minded, vocal about her support for suffrage for women and involved with "The Temperance League," a group of conservative women who push for prohibition of alcohol and enforcement of the law. Despite her strong character, Schroeder hides behind a soft-spoken, demure cloak for the first half of the Season; these traits are slowly revealed over the first 7-8 episodes.

In Episode 6, titled "Family Limitation," Margaret Schroeder has finally found a job as a mistreated "shop girl," but it is clearly not the type of job that will sustain her family without her husband's income. She is working hard, but quite desperate and unable to provide for her children. [It is worth noting that these were the days where "shop girl" was the best job a woman could hope for, unless she wanted to work in a brothel or could find a job in the show business industry.]

Schroeder receives an "offer" from a wealthy and powerful man, an offer that would provide for her family in exchange for her "companionship." Schroeder is attracted to the man, and seems like she wants to accept the offer, but she knows that he will never marry her due to cultural norms. She is obviously concerned about her reputation in the community (and possibly has her own moral/religious misgivings, but it is hard to tell at this point) and what kind of future lies ahead. Before making a decision, she seeks the advice of an older woman she respects, Mrs. McGarry, the head of the Temperance League.

The scene that captivated me is this meeting, where Schroeder tells McGarry that she has received an "offer" from a man and doesn't know what to do. McGarry, a strong and straightforward woman with perfectly coiffed gray hair and sharp features, cuts right to the chase, asking is this offer "financial, domestic, sexual?" Schroeder replies that is is all of the above. McGarry then tells Schroeder a story about her late husband, a wealthy businessman who built a mansion for himself and his wife and passed away shortly thereafter. McGarry says that, upon her husband's passing, she sold the mansion, bought a small place and devoted her life to women's suffrage and prohibition efforts.

As a viewer, I reacted to this story with the same sentiment that Schroeder seems to feel: confusion. Is McGarry suggesting that Schroeder devote her life to political causes? Perhaps McGarry thinks that there will be more opportunities for women to provide for themselves if they receive the right to vote? I am waiting for the part where McGarry draws some analogy to her story and lectures Schroeder not to "whore herself out," but that is not what happens. Schroeder pauses for a second after McGarry finishes her story and then says, "But I do not have a mansion to sell."

McGarry responds, "Exactly. So you must do as you see fit." McGarry then hands Schroeder a copy of Margaret Sanger's "Family Limitation" pamphlet [Sanger authored the first publicly available information on birth control in the U.S. - learn about her here], and sends her on her way.

This scene was so powerful for so many reasons, not the least of which is the way it highlights the difficulties women faced in the early 20th century. I feel like it goes beyond that, however, and presents a lesson relevant to us today. There are those of us who have mansions to sell, and those of us who have nothing, yet society holds everyone to the same standard. Those with nothing are expected to accomplish everything; if they do not provide for their families through legitimate, honest means, we call them crooks. If they rely on government resources to supplement their meager income, to provide food for their children, we call them lazy. If they drop out of school to start working, we call them losers. If they ask us for help, we tell them to "go find a job," as if the jobs available to us are equally available to them.

Those of us who have come from a privileged background, financially, socially, or otherwise, need to look at the lives of those who come from underprivileged backgrounds the same way that Mrs. McGarry does: realistically. This is not about helping others or contributing to charitable causes, even though those of you who know me know that I strongly advocate those things; this is about learning to see the world differently, understanding that those with privileged backgrounds cannot possibly comprehend the desperation of, say, a teenage girl, sleeping on the floor of her grandmother's boyfriend's apartment, skipping classes to make a few dollars braiding hair, eating only every other day or so, who finds herself pregnant by her grandmother's boyfriend's adult cousin. How can those with mansions to sell have any concept of what is best for this young girl? They cannot, yet they do it every day. Judging her. Screaming at her if she even looks at the Planned Parenthood building. Refusing to give her bus fare and telling her to go find a job. Looking at her like she is a whore. Voting to deprive her of her access to prenatal care, food stamps, shelter.

I think the better attitude is that of Mrs. McGarry: You must do as you see fit.


Learn to fly however you can without hurting others, little bird. Survive, even if you don't have a reason to. Hold on to hope. Look away from the judgmental eyes of those who have never known life in your shoes. Hold your head up high. Learn to fly.

Friday, October 10, 2014

On Traveling Solo

When folks hear that I’m planning to travel alone to a foreign country, they typically ask one or both of the following questions:

1. Aren’t you scared?

2. What will you do all by yourself?


My answer to the first question is simply, “No.” I rarely feel the need to elaborate because I don’t think I could explain why I am not scared to someone who would think to ask the question. I’m not criticizing the question – I get it. I understand why some people, especially people who have not traveled alone, would think of it as frightening. The reason why I am not scared is difficult to explain because it is so much a part of who I am. I have been traveling in foreign countries over half my life, and most of those trips have been either solo or with one other person.

Only once, when I was fifteen years old, did I travel with a group. It was my first time overseas and I went with a group of about twenty students from around the US on a 3-week tour of the Mediterranean. I enjoyed the tour immensely, but even then my favorite moments were those precious hours of “free time” where I was free to explore a city by myself. It seemed magical, disappearing in a crowd of locals, essentially invisible and free to watch people without them noticing that I was a stranger in a foreign land. Once, when I had wandered off during free time in Rome, I came upon a crowd of people lining up outside a beautiful church. They seemed excited, so I jumped in the line with them, having absolutely no idea what we were lining up for.

Suddenly, the doors of the church opened and the most elegant and fashionably dressed woman emerged with a group of people also dressed in gorgeous dresses and suits. The people in the line cheered as the woman and her entourage proceeded down the line, shaking hands with the people. When she reached me, I stuck out my hand and smiled. She smiled gently, gracefully, and took my hand in hers. I shivered when I felt her soft skin – her hands were as smooth as a newborn child’s – these were the hands of a woman who had never washed clothes, done the dishes, scrubbed a bathroom floor. “Who is she?” I wondered, “And who are the people following her, also shaking my hand and smiling?” They couldn’t be movie stars – I would have recognized them, and there would be a bigger crowd forming. As they drove away, I wondered whether I would ever find out the answer to those questions.

Later that day, when I returned to the tour group, our guide made an exciting announcement: “The Queen of Spain was here in Rome today, visiting a church with the princess and her fiance. You can see her on the television!”

I had shaken hands with Queen Sofia of Spain.
Queen Sofia

Would this have happened if I had been traveling with the group? Probably not. If I had been traveling with another person? Perhaps, depending on whether that person was willing to stand in a line that was not moving for half an hour for no apparent reason. You see, when you are alone, you make all the decisions. That brings me to my usual response to the second question.


What do I do when I’m traveling alone?

Whatever I want.


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Side Note: I also shook hands with Princess Cristina and her fiance, Olympic athlete Inaki Urdangarin, who married about a year later in Barcelona.

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Another Side Note: Admittedly, there is one person who I enjoy traveling with just as much as I enjoy traveling alone - perhaps more - my bestie Nancy Rhinehart DeVetter. Here we are on our two-month backpacking trip around Europe after we graduated from high school in 1999:


Some of the best moments of my life have been those spent with Nancy. Both of us feel like that trip in particular was a life-changing experience. A few years later, we returned to Europe to study abroad - I spent the year in Besancon, France and Nancy studied in Salamanca, Spain, but we managed to find several opportunities to travel together that year as well.

Right before I left for this trip to India and Sri Lanka, I received a package in the mail from Nancy: a USB drive with a collection of songs about traveling and enjoying life. I often feel like Nancy is with me when I venture out into the world.