Here is the image that I want you to write a response to. Use this image and write a story about it. Who is this person, what happened to her, what did the government do to help her....you get the idea. It is meant as a review for the depression of the 1930s. Your story should be roughly one page.
A woman sits her wise eyes hazy, her clothes in tatters, and the land around her desolate and empty. Staring at her Diary, she relentlessly tries to make sense of the situation she is in. She ponders, cries, ponders some more and cries at the mess she like every other family is in. Yet that thought does little to comfort her.
ReplyDelete“Why me? Why? Honestly? I go to Church every Sunday, never broke a law. I am a good citizen. Yet God feels the need to punish me and every other person in ties with America. It is like Noah’s Ark but a financial drought. My two sons and I live on a farm in the Prairies, when the drought came along shaking and fuming everything I sight, I did not worry I had money in the Stock Market. After my husband died fighting in the Great War, I thought it would be best to put money in the stock market seeing as our economy was booming. Then the stock market crashed. I lost a huge amount of money, all my savings. This disaster has left me with nothing! I got fired from my job as a factory worker, I have lost my respect! My lively hood! I can not buy food because I have no money, I can not buy clothes, I have been resorted to begging for food! Who knows what I will have to do next to keep my boys safe, I don’t want to think about it.
We will have to move, I know it. I have no chance of finding a job out here, in this wasteland. I am loosing my house anyway, hah! What a mess this is, a mess… I look back and I realise how naïve I was, me a single mother trying to make my way in the world like a man! It was stupid, arrogant, and idiotic. I am nothing. According to the government we elected to help us, we all mean nothing. What is the point? If the people who told you they will help, don’t? What do helpless souls like me do then? Lie down in the sand? Let it wash over me like the calm tranquil sea… Shortly I will have to get relief it will be embarrassing. I will loose what little respect I have left and still it will not be enough to keep us alive. Will I have to send my boys to those dreadful work camps? How long will this suffering last? How long until the government realise they can’t ignore the fact people are dying under their “watch”. My life was a God sent until 1918. When I found out my husband died. We had no money; I struggled to get a job. Had it not been for David, a family friend, we all probably would have died then. But what difference does it make if we are going to die 15 years later? No I must not think like that, I believe things will get better, or do I hope things will get better… The saying life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you will get is true through and through. I sit here spilling my soul to you, the one last friend I have. For who has friends in times like these? Friends help you, and my friends can not help me, as they can not help themselves… I can’t help myself.”
Her eyes glaze over as she stares out the window of her wind beaten home. She signs and closes her Diary for the last time. Taking her little possessions and her boys they head out into the Prairies. “Where are we going Mama?” the woman looks straight ahead and replies “We are going for a walk, we are going to find something baby”. The family head into the distance, into the sand swept Prairies walking towards the city in hope of finding something to change their lives. Anything is what they need. A new start is what they want and a new start is what will find them as long as they resist the urge to give in. As everything will get better in time.
Life used to be good for my family. We had everything we needed. My son had everything he needed. We had all the necessities.We lived in Saskatchewan. Life on the farm was great. Our crops were blooming, money was coming in.The Stock Market crashed, but I thought this wouldn't affect us much. We lived on a farm, why would it? My husband came in from the farm one day and told me that the wheat crop crashed. People were becoming unemployed and starting to starve. I thought this wouldn't last long. We still had some money saved up. The country's economic prices started to drop. The government started to set up relief programs for families. My husband told me that he would never accept relief from anybody. But we needed it badly, we had no more money. We had no food and we were beginning to starve. We had to wait in long line ups for relief. Having to publicly state that our family is financially unstable was the most humiliating thing ever. People glared and stared. As if it was our fault that this happened! To make matters worst, we were affected by a great drought that lasted many years. It affected us in every way possible. We had absolutely nothing. The dryness,heat and grasshoppers destroyed the crops. Our family was left with nothing.We had no money to buy groceries or make farm payments. My husband said that we had to move. We moved into an urban area in hope of finding employment in a factory. I went out in search of a job, and every place just laughed at me. They said they would never hire a woman. I felt so useless. We lived in a house with 2 other families. It was so cramped and tiny. My son started to get sick. We couldn't take him to a doctor because we had nothing to give. Families tried to help but it wasn't enough. He died in my arms later that night. I sat in my room, took out a piece of paper and a pen, and began to write to the Prime Minister. I told him about how my son had died, about how my family had nothing. How we lived, and how we were all starving. I told him to open up his eyes and start to help his people. He responded with a somber "sorry" and a 5 dollar bill attached to the note. We found it harder to live in the city than living on the farm. We had long and hot summers, and drastically cold winters. Life was miserable for all of us. There was no sewage systems or electricity in these houses. My husband managed to get a job in a business but that didn't last very long. The business was shut down and everyone was let go. Everyone around us was unemployed. No one had anything. My husband died a few weeks later and I was left alone in this depressing world all by myself. I had no way of getting anything, no one would help a woman. I drifted through the days like a zombie until one day I met this man. He promised to help me, to provide me with anything I needed. We got married and he kept his word. We heard on the radio about how German troops were taking over neighboring countries. The desperate need for Canadian soldiers, pilots and workers gave Canada's economy a boost. All of this helped contribute to the end of the Depression in Canada. The economy skyrocketed and Canada was on its way back to restoration. I have survived the depression but at what cost? I have lost my family. What good is it to live when there's nothing left to give. I have nothing left in me. What has happened to our world?
ReplyDeleteAnne Claire’s Depression
ReplyDeleteBy Kodie Kaban
August 19, 1937
It’s been a few weeks since our last encounter, dear diary, for I have been quite absent-minded and busy lately. Since Paul and I have split up, I have decided to take a train to the west, to British Columbia, where people speak of opportunity. Evan, now seven, appears quite sensitive about the change of scenery and the loss of a father. Danielle, five, is less affected by the changes she faces. Yesterday, we spent the night in Regina, where the scene of protest in 1935 rings in my head: Paul’s brother partook in the event, and was sent into a stadium while “ambassadors” carried on to talk to Bennett. It was a sad sight to see Bennett leave Parliament, after he helped my friend Natasha keep her small apartment in Toronto by giving her twenty dollars.
I left my farm near the outskirts of Winnipeg about three weeks ago. The windstorms have reduced my farm to nothing but dust, and Paul has agreed to keep the farmland and pay me a small sum of money every month. This sum of money could be relative to pogey, but is more easily accessible since it’s not coming out of the government’s pockets.
The train is currently en route to Calgary. Soon this uneasy life will find a warmer, safer, and productive shelter. Getting a job will be hard, though, with the Depression convincing men that women are to blame for the problem. Hopefully, I will not fall victim to this sexism.
Yours truely,
Anne Claire
Depression Story. “In the city”
ReplyDeleteDay 1
I’ve just got off the train to Vancouver. I had to leave my wife and children at home. Our house is in Saskatchewan and this awful drought has ruined our livelihood. The only hope for me and my family is if I can find work in the city and send my earnings back home. Even thought I was told work is scarce since the stock market crash on Wall Street, I fear this is the only option for me. The government has not replied to any of my letters pleading for relief funds during the drought. When I walk into the city I see groups of homeless people with tents and tarps hanging all over the place almost like a jungle. This is just what should be expected to happen with Prime Minister Mackenzie king. I knew he wouldn’t be prepared to face any crises whatsoever let alone the depression.
At least we have R.B. Bennet trying to fix this giant mess we are in now.
Day 14
I’ve found work in an isolated work camp far from the city. The labor is ruthless but I am making 20 cents a day which is better than nothing at all.
Day 30
This work is too much I can no longer handle it. My co-workers also agree that this work is unreasonable. Some people around here are trying to rally to protest these conditions we work under.
Day 31
Thousands of men including myself who worked in the work camps are going to Ottawa.
Since the government seems to not care about what’s going on over here. So we’re hitching a ride on the trains “ON TO OTTOWA!”
Day 33
The train has stopped in retina and something didn’t feel right. Then a bunch of police rushed into us like we were rioters. People were screaming and running every which way
Then all of a sudden I hit the ground. It was the police they were arresting me.
Day 34
I’m in jail now, I don’t know when I’ll be getting out. All I can think about is my wife and children and if they are keeping safe being all alone in the prairies. I don’t know how it came to this but I just pray everything will get better soon.
It’s not like I never tried. No. I tried harder then most if I do say so myself. Times were just… harder…for me…
ReplyDeleteA man had come by my house a day or so after the war had ended. He’d told me that my husband had died fighting in the war. I was heart broken, but I told myself that I would be ok. During the war, many women had been able to get a job to support their families and the economy. I was one of those women. I was proud and strong. Nothing stood in my path to success. I was managing to make enough for food, shelter, and, on occasion, new clothes.
In summer of 1927, I decided to buy stocks. The stocks were on the rise and I wanted a piece of it. Riches seemed so close. I went to the banks with the little money I had and asked for a loan to buy stocks. The next day, I had bought 100 shares of the nearest industrial company.
1928 came and the stocks shot up. I was on top of the world. I held the ticket to great riches in my hand. I should have sold then. I should have gotten out while I still could, but… the power got to my head, and I sat tight, thinking surely the stock would continue to rise.
1929. The stocks dropped. Not much, but still, it was down. I scoffed. Down, yes, but that was only temporary, right?
1930. I turned pale reading the stocks in the newspaper that one spring morning. The stocks had dropped below my original buy price. I had said it was the worst day of my life. But no… this was just the beginning. Foolishly I refused to sell. I would not sell for less then I had originally paid. It seemed ridiculous. Pointless. Just plain stupid. What was it all for?
1931. The stock was falling more and more each day, and with it, my confidence. I could do nothing but watch, afraid to sell my last hope at riches. My three children would often comment on how pale I looked reading the paper each morning. I did my best to keep a calm face and smile for them. They needn’t know.
The years passed and the stock market kept falling and falling. Finally in 1933, I could take no more. I sold the accursed paper. I was in debt, but I still had my job. As long as I had that, I could do this. I could. I could…
A few weeks after I’d sold out, the bank began demanding their pay. I could do nothing to stop it. I knew they were coming. My daughter hid behind me, watching the men with interest and fear. I told them I would pay. Slowly, but I would. The men grunted and told me that if I didn’t have the money, my house would be taken next.
The next day I lost my job; my last source of income. I came home that day, no food, no money, nothing. My children ran up to me, and I held them to me, crying. “Mommy, what’s wrong?” They asked. “Don’t worry,” I replied, “It’ll all be over soon…” I reached for the knife that sat on my dresser. “Soon, there will be nothing more to trouble us…”
It’s not as though I never tried. No. I tired harder then most if I do say so myself. Times were just… harder… for me…
As I left for the On to Ottawa trek,I hugged my wife and children goodbye. Things have been hard for us lately. I've lost my job and my family is hungry. We were thinking about going to a refugee camp,but I/m not ready to bring my family there they deserve better.Im on the train and I met a man named Jim who also left his wife and kids at home. Yes I feel bad for leaving them, but I think we should bring this message to the Prime Minister in Ottawa. I think he needs to know how the rest of Canda is doing since the stock market crash,and the economy went down the toilet. Things have been tragic around here for most people. It starts with less shifts,and goes to lay offs untill the factory closes down. My wife was devasted because we have 2 kids to support. I can;t go to a work campe because they're only for single men. A friend of mine wrote to me from one,he said the working conditions were terible,poor food,bad bedding,and roach infested bunk rooms,and to top it off the pay is unethical. Jim told me were close to regina,but i think i must sleep.
ReplyDeleteMy god, people were beaten, a few even killed. Once we got to Regina the police bombarded us with knightsticks and bats. When things got back into control some representatives were sent to ottawa,but it was basically just a screaming match and nothing was done. I hope this ends soon, but until then,im off to find a job.
Life during the 1920's was wonderful for my two children and I.Having a care free life living each day to the best, that is until the 30's rolled around. My husband had volunteered to go to war I was not thrilled about it,but he promised me he'd come back home. With my husband being gone at war it was difficult for me to find a decent job to raise my children. Because of the depression jobs were scarce and wadges dropped. My brother went off to a work camp more so known as a "slave camp" to try and help me out with the little money he earned. It was hard for me letting him go, the food was horrible, living conditions were disgusting, he only mad 20 cents a day but i needed any extra money i could get. I maintained an okay job as a nurse while my husband and brother were gone. During 1937 i received wonderful news the federal government had shut down the camps and he would be coming home. having him back home was wonderful i had missed him dearly, and what he did for me i could never make up to him. He has moved in with us and my kids love having him around to play with, it makes me smile to see them having so much fun. But then i realize tonight I will have to tuck them in and they'll ask me "Mommy when is Daddy coming home" and i say "Very soon darlings", but the better part of me knows its been years since the war and my husband is not coming home. But i continue to wait for him to walk through the door everyday.
ReplyDeleteLife during the 1920's was wonderful for my two children and I.Having a care free life living each day to the best, that is until the 30's rolled around. My husband had volunteered to go to war I was not thrilled about it,but he promised me he'd come back home. With my husband being gone at war it was difficult for me to find a decent job to raise my children. Because of the depression jobs were scarce and wadges dropped. My brother went off to a work camp more so known as a "slave camp" to try and help me out with the little money he earned. It was hard for me letting him go, the food was horrible, living conditions were disgusting, he only mad 20 cents a day but i needed any extra money i could get. I maintained an okay job as a nurse while my husband and brother were gone. During 1937 i received wonderful news the federal government had shut down the camps and he would be coming home. having him back home was wonderful i had missed him dearly, and what he did for me i could never make up to him. He has moved in with us and my kids love having him around to play with, it makes me smile to see them having so much fun. But then i realize tonight I will have to tuck them in and they'll ask me "Mommy when is Daddy coming home" and i say "Very soon darlings", but the better part of me knows its been years since the war and my husband is not coming home. But i continue to wait for him to walk through the door everyday.
ReplyDeleteNot Giving into the Depression
ReplyDeleteKnow wonder everyone is calling these difficult times the Depression; it is so depressing not having anything. Little to no food to feed my family, no new clothes for the up coming winter, and just enough money to get us by. But only God knows how long it will last. It is the year 1935 and my two sons Andy and Benjamin, keep asking when is their father coming home. Andrew, my husband, left 2 months ago to find work. He managed to get work by being a butcher for a wealthy hunter in Regina. Lucky the hunter gives him a dollar per animal. His average is six animals a day, sometimes more, but never less. Andrew goes there every Tuesday and Thursday, giving him a salary of 12 dollars a week.
I tell my boys to stop looking out the window for he just left an hour ago. I went over to my daughter, Hannah, she was crying again from the sand on her face. I wipped off the sand and put her in her crib for her nap. She was born 5 months ago in this dreadful dust and wind where are home stands. We live in Saskatoon, yet as our neighbours leave, my husband and I both agree that we are not leaving our home. His family has been farmers for generations and (to are relief) his father taught him how to butcher deer in the winter months.
Eight years ago, when I heard on the radio that many people were buying stocks, I got this weird feeling something awful is going to happen. I rushed to the bank, took out all of our savings, and brought it home to put it in an empty jam jar. Andrew saw the jar full of money and ask where did it come from. I told him about the stocks and the weird feelings I was getting. He agreed with my idea, knowing that my feelings (though not always good) were proven right. A couple of weeks later, the worst happened. On October 29, 1929, the New York Stock Market crashed and everything went down hill from there. When, in 1927, the price of wheat started to fall, was when Andrew started to panic. I told him to calm down or the children will start to cry again. He did and thought over our situation. On one hand, we had the money I deposited from the bank, that would last us a few years, possibly more if we buy only what we need to survive. On the other hand, if Andrew does not find work we would need to go to charity for help and he hated charity.
About two years prior to this day, a plague of grasshoppers ate what was left of our crops. It was bad enough with all the dust and windstorms, but this just nailed my temper. You could not get rid of them when there was only four or five in the crops, but it was devistating to watch the annoying pests eat what was left of our pay roll. And now we were barely making ends meet, when the miracle we were waiting for happened. The federal government passed the Prairie Farm Rehabilitation Administration Act, which they helped us build irrigation systems and reservoirs. By the time this Act passed, many other families left the Prairies, while my family was one of the few who stayed behind.
My two children Thomas who is 8 and Annetta who is 10 and i have recently become homeless as a result of my husbands unfortunate death. This horrible depression has stripped our family of everything except for each other minus one, and has left us living on the street. The only money I have is a part of the 20 dollars Prime Minister Bennett had sent me when i wrote him a letter pleading to help when my husband was sick. This money will soon run out and we will soon run out of food. Life before the depression was wonderful, our family was happy and had everything we ever wanted. The economy was booming and it seemed that nothing could stop the roll of the 20’s, everyone thought it would continue well into the 30’s. That was until 1929 when the New York stock market fell and became the beginning of a world wide tragedy that took everyone by surprise. My husbands wage went down a couple days later and he eventually lost his job, and so did almost everyone i know. My sister in Saskatchewan had been writing to me her farms crops had been blown away by windstorms and eaten away by a plague of locusts. There was a horrible drought as well that started in 1928. My brother was one of the 170 000 men who was sent to a work camp in the middle of nowhere, to work for only 20 cents a day. The conditions were terrible, so a thousand men left these camps and protested. My brother sent me a letter telling me him and fellow workers were going up to ottawa to protest and that they were picking up supporters on the way. The RCMP arrested him before he got to
ReplyDeleteOttawa. I am hoping and praying for a miracle and that things in this world will get better.
My name is Cindy. It is a dark day I can see a dust layer over everything and there is no wind. It is very lonely out on the pareies. My husband Tim had to leave to try and find a job. Tim lost his job at the factory about 5 years ago. This was around the same time the stock market crashed. My husband and I didn’t think much about him losing his job, we assumed he would be able to find a job easily. After a month we realized everyone was getting laid off. Their became a high number of unemployment, their weren’t enough jobs for everyone. We have two wonderful kids we have to support and they have been living off bread and butter for the last month. Tim decided he was going to pack up his things and leave BC to see if he could find a job someplace else. He had little luck but whatever money he received he would send to us with a letter usually telling us about his experience. He talks about hobo jungles where tons of unemployed men who are looking for jobs live. He says some of the older men live there permantly. He got into this relief camp; he earns 20 cents a day. He has wrote to me about how awful the food is, its bug infested and there are rats every where. Right now he joined this protest called the
ReplyDeleteOn-to-Ottawa-trek. It is to protest the living conditions of the camp. The protest ended in Regina. He is now back home with us and found a job near by so we are getting by.
There’s a women, her eyes, shuddered with pain, hiding, quivering in fear from the horridness that lies outside her hollow home. The two kids huddled up to the mom, wishing the storms away, wishing their dad was back, holding them in his arms, sheltering them from the outside world.
ReplyDelete“We used to have a great life out here, on our farm, until the stock market took my husband, that’s when things really started going downhill for us.” “My husband was a working man, but he invested heavily in the stock market. I always told him he was foolish for doing so, but we were making so much money, I just could make him stop.” “When the market crashed, it crashed heavy, my husband lost everything.” “He was so far in debt that, that night after work, my husband couldn’t take the debt he was in, or the money he lost, he jumped off the roof of the building he worked at.”
I was left alone to take care of the farm, the crops and the two kids by myself. With the big dust storms coming in, I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to survive like this. My family was struggling enough, trying to get by without a father.
I lay awake, slowly, trying to doze off, to where the pain will numb, and these feelings of lost will slip away into the night. Just have to get by a couple more days, I keep telling myself, just a couple more days.