The Patterns of History

 

Orchard Street on the Lower East Side
maybe about turn of the 20th Century

Dinner on my own again tonight, and I was dithering between shakshuka and scrambled eggs with corn and goat cheese (more about all of that another night) when my computer reminded me that I had signed up for a webinar on tenement kitchens from 6:00 to 7:00 tonight.

Several years ago, I reviewed a book titled 97 Orchard Street, a fascinating history of one tenement building on New York’s Lower East Side. The book traced the history of various families who occupied the building, as the waves of immigrants poured into New York from various countries. First, in the mid-1800s, came the Irish, forced to flee the potato famine. Then, around the turn of the century, refugees from the pogroms and harsh conditions in Eastern European countries, and by 1940 immigrants from south of our border. Little did I realize at the time that 97 Orchard Street and a companion building at 103 were the center of a museum devoted to the study of immigration. Next time you’re in New York, the Tenement Museum at 103 Orchard is well worth a visit.

Tonight’s program was on tenement kitchens and looked at three successive families—the Moores from Ireland and the Rogshefkys from Russia, who both lived at 97 Orchard, and the a single Puerto Rican mother (Romanika?) who lived at 103 with her two sons (97 had by then been condemned). A knowledgeable curator walked us through each kitchen—the first two apartments probably some 325 square feet where conditions were so crowded, children slept in the kitchen. We saw the progression from coal to gas to electricity. Each segment featured a typical dish from the family’s culture—boxty, from Ireland, was a pancake-like dish prepared with grated potatoes, egg, and seasonings. Several viewers commented that it looked like Jewish latkes, and I did think it emphasized the similarity of cultures—many feature their own versions of the same food, with a different name.

The Jewish/Russian dish was cholent, a stew put on to simmer before sundown on Friday and eaten after services on Saturday (Shabbat or holy day) when orthodox Jews are forbidden to cook. Cholent is made mostly of whatever is on hand, and usually includes beans of some kind. In my years of being married to a Jewish man and coming to love the food, this is one dish I never was served or tried to cook.

The dish for the Puerto Rican woman was a rice pudding—sorry the name escapes me—made with coconut milk, and the process of making coconut milk was painstakingly described. You did not just go to the local grocery and buy a pint. The dish also had several seasonings, including what looked to me like a lot of cinnamon. Again, this demonstrates the link between cultures—several viewers chimed in to say that rice pudding was a staple of their Jewish backgrounds.

This program interested me partly because I’m interested in American history but more because increasingly my food interest is on American food, and I well realize that our culinary traditions involve a lot of the melting pot—we have absorbed and incorporated from the many immigrants who have been welcomed to our shores. No better illustration exists than the popularity of Mexican cuisine which may have first moved into Texas (and in many instances become Tex-Mex) but has also moved throughout the country.

It struck me as I watched that one of the lovely benefits of retirement is that I am free to dart down this rabbit hole and that. When I read the news in the morning, if a particular item interests me, I can take the time to search out more information on the internet. So it was tonight—I wanted to watch this, and I could easily take the time out from what I meant to accomplish tonight. My deadlines are my own.

Supper? I had a ham and cheese sandwich. I’ve got another dinner on my own this week and will have to decide between inventing shakshuka for one or those scrambled eggs. Hmmmm.

 

Seeing both sides

What’s that old Judy Collins song with the line, “I’ve seen both sides now”? That’s how I felt this morning. I had a rational, reasonable discussion with a well-educated, articulate, knowledgeable Republican who’s a Trumper. Is there an oxymoron in there somewhere? More than one? This is a young man (he was born well after the Kennedy assassination, which is a topic that fascinates him) I don’t know well, but he’s dear to someone who is dear to me, so I entered this inadvertently but with every effort to be pleasant. In truth, when I said, “You’re not a Trumper, are you?” I fully expected him to deny it. Instead, he said yes, and I was astounded. Where to take the conversation now?

We fell into this because I brought up the issue of sexual predators and knew my friend would want to talk about it but would agree with me. Her partner and I weren’t too far apart, though he apparently thinks most accusers are lying and that the yearbook sentiment by Roy Moore was forged—I hadn’t heard that but haven’t checked it either. On the other hand, referring to the Franken first accuser, he said photos don’t lie. I pointed out I’d heard the photo was staged, and he moved right on to, “There are other accusers.” He didn’t say much about accusations against the president, but he agrees with me that the sitting president is an uncouth boorish man. He’s willing to put up with that to get the things done the WH occupant wants to do. All along, he had done more research, had more arguments to back him up than I did.

But I think that’s part of the conservative/democrat difference—conservatives are all about hard facts and fail to show any human compassion, to take in the caring side of things, which is part of the principles this country was founded on. The founding fathers were offering people freedom, not building empires.

Then, somehow, we got to immigration, and I was clearly outclassed in argumentative fuel. He had a good grasp of the political tendency of this country for the last twenty-five years. Using Silicon Valley as a example, he talked about companies who terminate employees and tell them, “Your replacement is from India, and you will have to train him/her.” Clearly, cheap labor wins out over patriotic loyalty. It’s not a foolproof argument, but he made me see immigration as an economic issue rather than solely a racial one. And it explains much of what’s happened to our economy.

Of Mexico and the wall, he says the Mexican government is hypocritical, because they have stricter immigration laws than we do and a stronger border on their south, prohibiting immigration from South American countries.

Of outsourcing manufacturing, he says it’s a clear choice: do the patriotic thing, keep your factory here, and go broke because you can’t compete with those who manufacture so much more cheaply overseas or in Mexico. For him, it all comes down to any businessman will do whatever he can to make more money. Patriotism doesn’t enter in, nor does compassion. My verbal opposite says there are provisions in the new tax code that will bring some of that tax revenue to this country.

Our conversation, which had previously been lighthearted and full of laughter, had turned dark, and my good friend ended it when she said, “I’m not enjoying this conversation very much.” Later, she confessed that their darkest moment as a couple had come in a similar discussion. He did not convert me, not as he protested did he mean to, but it was an eye-opening experience.

I cling to the belief that most Trumpers are not as well educated nor as versed on the issues. They vote out of misplaced emotion and, perhaps, anger at “the way things are.”

An interesting breakfast, to say the least.

Mother’s Day compassion—NOT

Mother’s Day should be about love and compassion, right? Please tell that to our legislative leaders, both national and state. While it was a mind-boggling time—historic, to use a more proper term—in Washington last week, the Texas legislature did not get left out of the party.

Currently a handful of right-wing extremist representatives are using parliamentary procedure to block 100 bills because they aren’t getting their way. One of the bills blocked has to do with cutting Teas’ way-too-high maternity mortality rate. Particularly appropriate on Mother’s Day. Sure, it’s called serving for the good of the state.

And state officials have found a swell way to turn young immigrants into haters of the U.S. and terrorists. Just lock them up in a for-profit juvenile facility thinly disguised as a day-care center. Really, guys? You want us to believe that? It is so wrong on so many levels, among them the fact that for-profit prisons should be outlawed. We encourage crime by making it a source of profit—there’s no direct money in educating youngsters and leading them away from a path of crime. So, let’s make a buck!

Second, the immigration law in Texas is harsh enough, tearing children from their mothers’ skirts (often, literally). But to put them in a for-profit incarceration center goes beyond any sort of human decency. Yes, I believe our governor has signed that one into law.

As he did the sanctuary city law which forbids city governments and law enforcement officers from ignoring Texas’ harsh immigration laws. The tiny border two of El Cenzio is suing the state government over the law. The mayor refuses to turn in his fellow citizens. Resist, he says, is the right thing to do.

This may seem like a non sequitur, but I assure you it’s not. Last night my oldest granddaughter went to her high school prom. Her father, mother, and younger sister checked into a hotel for a Mother’s Day getaway and left the keys to the house to Maddie She was encouraged to invite her close friends, boys and girls, for the after-prom all-night party. My son’s reasoning? “I’d rather have them in my house than in a cheap bar or hotel.” His stipulation: they collected all car keys (Maddie knew where they were) and the kids were forbidden to touch his liquor (he’s a connoisseur of fine Scotch). They didn’t hide liquor, jewelry, anything, just opened the houses to the kids.

We’re waiting to hear a report, but I’m betting on Maddie. I have faith in her to do the right thing and to have chosen her friends well. How does this relate to the Texas or national legislatures? I believe if you trust people, they will live up to your expectations. If you distrust them, they think, “Why the hell not?” and do what you suspected them of doing.

I cannot fathom this hatred of immigrants, particularly Mexicans and Muslims. Texas, of course, is focused on Mexican immigrants. They are, we’re told, criminals, rapists, the dregs of society. Funny, some of the Mexican-Americans I’ve met are the nicest people—kind, caring, raising their families to be good citizens. In California, farmers are crying because their crops are rotting in the fields—the immigrant workers are afraid to come to work. Not all immigrants can afford the time and cost of citizenship—a factor no one considers apparently.

If we continue this ban, think how many service industries will be affected. The hospitality industry will take a huge hit—no one to clean hotel rooms, wait tables, tend bar. Who will clean your house and your office? There are a thousand other jobs done by Mexicans. Don’t tell me those jobs belong to Americans—most Americans won’t do a lot of them.

I think we need to get a grip on this immigration nonsense. By all means, deport any known and proven criminals and terrorists. Stop deporting innocent people or those with minor infractions in the long-ago past. Sure, it’s hard to detect terrorists, but we have tremendous law enforcement tools and techniques. Put them to work. And use a bit of compassion. And outlaw for-profit prisons.

Happy Mother’s Day. Sorry for the rant. Maybe I shouldn’t read the news.

PS: My son’s house was just as he’d left it. Yay, Maddie!