It’s Labor Day weekend here in
the US, so I decided to honour the occasion by visiting the Tenement Museum in New York – a museum dedicated to preserving the stories of the immigrant
workers who made the city what it is today.
Founded in 1988, by Ruth Abram and Anita Jacobson, the museum tells
the stories of the 7,000 or so people who lived at 97 Orchard Street in
Manhattan’s Lower East Side, in the setting of the small apartments which were
their homes between the 1860s and the 1930s.
You can only visit the museum on
one of the guided tours. These are themed, and deal with different aspects of
the building and area’s history. The tour I joined (naturally, as an Irishwoman
and a Victorianist) was focused on an Irish immigrant family who lived in the
tenement in the 1860s – the Moores.
Entitled ‘Irish Outsiders’, the
tour told the sad story of the short period the Moores lived at 97 Orchard
Street – their difference from their largely German neighbours, the
discrimination they, and their countrymen and women, would have faced when
seeking employment, and the death of their baby, Agnes, from malnutrition.
The living conditions were
cramped. They were a family of five, living in three rooms, with no plumbing –
a set up that helps you put into perspective the complaints of many New Yorkers
about the size of their apartments today. Interior windows help some light
penetrate the inner rooms (although they still feel dark and claustrophobic),
yet these were installed not for aesthetic reasons, but to combat tuberculosis
– a very real threat in this period.
Yet the story isn’t without hope.
For a start, 97 Orchard Street seems to have been far from the worst of these
tenement buildings. The privies in the backyard flushed, redecoration was
relatively frequent (as the museum found when the historians investigated the
layers of wallpaper), and the landlord lived in the building and made
renovations beyond those required by him legally.
What’s more, the Moores may not
have been removed from their neighbours, despite their differences in origin
and religion. The guide played us some recordings of Irish ditties dating from
the period, including ‘McNally’s Row of Flats’ – a raucous song about the sense
of community that could come from different peoples being thrown into close
quarters with each other.
The story the tour tells is
ultimately one of upward mobility. One moment we are asked to take a leap of
imagination, piecing together what it might have been like to be an illiterate
Irish immigrant in the mid-nineteenth century from the building, a baptismal
certificate, and some census records. In the next, we are actually holding a
photograph of one of the Moore children, taken in the 1930s, by which time she
and her husband are well off enough to have their own backyard (in Queens).
As Europeans, we can find it
amusing – ridiculous even – when Americans identify strongly with the heritage
of a country they’ve never seen. It’s something of a running joke how
absolutely some Americans can assert their Irishness. Yet, visiting the Tenement Museum, made the
connection between New York today and the Ireland these men and women left
behind feel much closer. And remembering the conditions your ancestors lived in
when seeking out a new life must be very special.
A restored apartment in the tenement |
Some aspects of life in 97
Orchard Street have all but faded from our modern world – but immigration is a
real and living issue. Maybe investigating the histories of these families in
the Tenement Museum won’t get us any closer to determining how the stories of
today’s immigrants might end, but I firmly believe that learning about the lives
of those who worked to make this city what it is can help us grow in tolerance,
understanding and compassion.
Where else in New York City would
you like to see the Secret Victorianist visit? Let me know – here, on Facebook or by tweeting @SVictorianist.
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