That one line, “Like the moment hope understands it was always a lie,” is such a gut-punch as I can immediately think of multiple instances, especially in American politics for the past decade, where that rings true. Very well-crafted sir; we’re lucky to have such a brilliant raconteur.
I understand what you’re saying. Really. It’s true that people can get lost in their own stories, replaying the same scenes until nothing else gets through. I’ve done it myself, more times than I’d like to admit.
But reflection isn’t always vanity. Sometimes it’s just someone trying to make sense of where they’ve been so they don’t keep hurting themselves or the people around them. Most of us aren’t trying to build a monument. We’re just trying to understand the terrain.
And helping others,yes. That matters. More than ever. But a person can’t show up for anyone if they don’t know what’s going on inside their own head. You can’t lift someone else out of the mud if you don’t realize you’re sinking too.
So I hear you about the danger of getting stuck in yourself. It’s real. But the answer isn’t to shut the door on your own history and pretend you don’t have one. The answer is to know it well enough that you can step outside it when you need to. So you can be useful. So you can be present. So you can be human in a way that actually helps somebody.
That is so true, Tom. Especially relate to "sometimes reflection is just someone trying to make sense of where they've been, so they don't keep hurting themselves or the people around them." I've shared more lately than ever before, and Substack is the smallest part of it. But the more I share, the more I find I have not even begun to *really* share. Specifics, where and how it all began, what I've been saved from and where I believe and know I am being delivered into, how it happened, and is happening, if I simply walk through the door. (Wow, that's a propos this story -- the door. I didn't intend it, but that isn't coincidence, either!)
A very hopeful, true story, even though those events were nothing but terrible. And it wasn't the end, as witnesses and we ourselves live to tell about it.
It’s where the union movement came from…people think it began with wages but child labour and worker safety underpinned the union movement from the beginning.
I know this story well, I used to run it in our union newsletter every few years to remind members where we started.
In a time when they're trying to erase and rewrite history, stories like these are more important than ever. Thanks for always echoing into the present moment the tragic suffering and resultant heroism of those that shaped this country, Tom. They're the "who" of who we are. They're the reason and the inspiration to continue to carry the torch of liberty and justice for all.
A powerful, tragic piece about the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire of March 25, 1911, where 146 garment workers, 123 of them being women and girls, died, many of them jumping out of the building with their hair ablaze. To honor those who perished, it's well worth reading. It's a reminder of what their deaths led to for worker safety laws in the U.S. under Frances Perkins. If only they hadn't had to die to ensure that workers could leave their place of work of their own volition.
But their deaths serve as another grim reminder of the exploitative nature of capitalism--the profits for the factory owners meant more to them than the people churning out their products. A story, unfortunately, that continues to this day. These situations weren't burned into non-existence, along with the women, girls, and men on that day, when they should've been. They persist. The majority of laborers, such as the Shirtwaist Factory workers, remain punished, all but for their labor, while those who extract their value get away with similar forms of mass death. There is a way to end this torturous economic abuse, but the collective's will is needed. That's why stories like Tom's, written about the Triangle Shirtwaist Fire, need to be retold, remembered, and honored.
That one line, “Like the moment hope understands it was always a lie,” is such a gut-punch as I can immediately think of multiple instances, especially in American politics for the past decade, where that rings true. Very well-crafted sir; we’re lucky to have such a brilliant raconteur.
Thank you Mark!!
Very moving Tom Joad. 🙏
Grateful to the brave and tenacious women that brought about changes for generations that followed.
Thank you for reading!!
Beautiful writing on an impossible situation.
Thank you so much for writing this. Have you ever read Robert Pinsky’s poem, The Shirt? https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/47696/shirt
Beautiful. Thank you for sharing that. Isn’t it strange how something so terrible can bring beauty into the world.
I appreciate how the poet takes a seemingly simple and pedestrian article—a shirt—and connects it to its human creators with their stories.
I keep reminding myself (with you and a few others) that retelling our own history might be the most important way to spend our days.
I understand what you’re saying. Really. It’s true that people can get lost in their own stories, replaying the same scenes until nothing else gets through. I’ve done it myself, more times than I’d like to admit.
But reflection isn’t always vanity. Sometimes it’s just someone trying to make sense of where they’ve been so they don’t keep hurting themselves or the people around them. Most of us aren’t trying to build a monument. We’re just trying to understand the terrain.
And helping others,yes. That matters. More than ever. But a person can’t show up for anyone if they don’t know what’s going on inside their own head. You can’t lift someone else out of the mud if you don’t realize you’re sinking too.
So I hear you about the danger of getting stuck in yourself. It’s real. But the answer isn’t to shut the door on your own history and pretend you don’t have one. The answer is to know it well enough that you can step outside it when you need to. So you can be useful. So you can be present. So you can be human in a way that actually helps somebody.
That is so true, Tom. Especially relate to "sometimes reflection is just someone trying to make sense of where they've been, so they don't keep hurting themselves or the people around them." I've shared more lately than ever before, and Substack is the smallest part of it. But the more I share, the more I find I have not even begun to *really* share. Specifics, where and how it all began, what I've been saved from and where I believe and know I am being delivered into, how it happened, and is happening, if I simply walk through the door. (Wow, that's a propos this story -- the door. I didn't intend it, but that isn't coincidence, either!)
A very hopeful, true story, even though those events were nothing but terrible. And it wasn't the end, as witnesses and we ourselves live to tell about it.
So very on the mark to me, thank you!
Yes, yes, and yes. It isn't all vanity. Some, certainly, human nature being what it id. But not all of it.
very well done good Sir!
Thank you!!
It’s where the union movement came from…people think it began with wages but child labour and worker safety underpinned the union movement from the beginning.
I know this story well, I used to run it in our union newsletter every few years to remind members where we started.
Yes, one of the reasons the doors were locks was to keep out the Union.
In a time when they're trying to erase and rewrite history, stories like these are more important than ever. Thanks for always echoing into the present moment the tragic suffering and resultant heroism of those that shaped this country, Tom. They're the "who" of who we are. They're the reason and the inspiration to continue to carry the torch of liberty and justice for all.
A powerful, tragic piece about the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory fire of March 25, 1911, where 146 garment workers, 123 of them being women and girls, died, many of them jumping out of the building with their hair ablaze. To honor those who perished, it's well worth reading. It's a reminder of what their deaths led to for worker safety laws in the U.S. under Frances Perkins. If only they hadn't had to die to ensure that workers could leave their place of work of their own volition.
But their deaths serve as another grim reminder of the exploitative nature of capitalism--the profits for the factory owners meant more to them than the people churning out their products. A story, unfortunately, that continues to this day. These situations weren't burned into non-existence, along with the women, girls, and men on that day, when they should've been. They persist. The majority of laborers, such as the Shirtwaist Factory workers, remain punished, all but for their labor, while those who extract their value get away with similar forms of mass death. There is a way to end this torturous economic abuse, but the collective's will is needed. That's why stories like Tom's, written about the Triangle Shirtwaist Fire, need to be retold, remembered, and honored.
Thank you for sharing. This is why government regulates business in the public interest.
I never heard this thank you for shedding some light on this history