The Workers: An Experiment in Reality. The WestWyckoff, Walter A. (Walter Augustus)
History
The Workers: An Experiment in Reality. The West
Wyckoff, Walter A. (Walter Augustus)
Unemployed -- United States; Working class -- United States
This request in practically the same terms produced often the most
opposite effects. One man would answer with a kindliness so genuine
and a regret so evidently sincere that it was with an utmost effort at
times that I could control myself And but a few minutes later another
man might answer, if not with oaths and threats of violence, yet with a
cynical sharpness which would leave a sorer rankling.
Despondency had almost conquered hope at last, and well-nigh worn
one’s courage out, and all but brought your drooping spirits to the
brink of that abyss, where men think that they can give the struggle
up. It is marvellous how the external aspect of all things changes to
you here. The very stones beneath your feet are the hard paving of
your prison-house; the threatening winter sky above you is the vaulted
ceiling of your dungeon; the buildings towering to nearly twenty
stories about you are your prison walls, and, as by a keen refinement
of cruelty, they swarm with hiving industry, as if to mock you in your
bitter plight.
Suddenly there dawns upon you an undreamed-of significance in the
machinery of social restraint. The policeman on the crossing in his
slouching uniform bespattered with the oozing slime of the miry streets
where he controls the streams of traffic, even as the Fellaheen direct
the water of the Nile through the net-work of their irrigation ditches,
is the outstretched hand of the law ready to lay hold on you, should
you violate in your despair the rules of social order. Behind him you
see the patrol wagon and the station-house and the courts of law and
the State’s prison and enforced labor, the whole elaborate process
by means of which society would reassimilate you, an excrement, a
non-social being as a transgressor of the law, into the body politic
once more, and set you to fulfilling a functional activity as a part of
the social organism.
This result, with the means of living which it implies and the link
that it gives you to your kind, even if it be the relation of a
criminal to society, may become the object of a desire so strong that
the shame and punishment involved may lose their deterring force for
you.
There are simple means of setting all this process in motion in
your behalf. Men break shop-windows in full view of the police, or
voluntarily hold out to them hands weighted with the spoils of theft.
Perhaps it is in the moving crowds upon the pavements that one, in
such a mood, feels most of all this change in external aspect. The
loneliness, the sense of being a thing apart in the presence of your
working kind, a thing unvitalized by real contact with the streams of
life, is the seat of your worst suffering, and the pain is augmented by
what seems an actual antagonism to you as to something beyond the range
of human sympathy.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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