Finding Morris Osofsky

A vintage registration card filled out by hand for Maurice Osafsky, dated 1940s, listing personal details such as address, age, birthdate, place of birth, and emergency contact.

I recently finished reviewing all of the congratulatory telegrams and letters Jane Addams received when she was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in December 1931. More than 375 of these messages are known to be extant, and they came in from across the country and around the world. The well-wishers included other peace activists, like Frederick Libby of the National Council for the Reduction of Armaments, Mary Thoday of the North Wales Womenโ€™s Peace Council, and Addamsโ€™s cowinner Nicholas Murray Butler. There were notes from friends, family members, dozens of colleagues in the social settlement and suffrage movements, and ecstatic and proud members and state, local, and national branches of the Womenโ€™s International League for Peace and Freedom, which Addams founded in 1915. Addams heard from educators, business people, writers, clergymen, and politicians. There were letters in German, Spanish, and French, two women named for Jane Addams (Jane Addams Weinreb of Chicago and Jane Addams Thompson of Thornwood, NY), and many letters included honorary resolutions passed by peace societies and organizations across the globe.

Some of the most notable among the correspondents were racial justice reformer Mary McCleod Bethune, sitting Illinois Governor Louis Lincoln Emmerson, former (and future) Canadian Prime Minister William Mackenzie King, journalist Oswald Garrison Villard, Oxford University professor Gilbert Murray, Chinese feminist writer Sophia H. Z. Chen, and Swedish-American painter Carl Eric Lindin. Of course Jane Addams heard from friends and family and professional associates. Naturally, as well, civic and political leaders who shared her world view were compelled to write, particularly those who supported Addams during the post-war years when her unwavering pacifism caused many to criticize her and to question her patriotism.

Yet the letters from the more common folks are the ones I find most revealing. The well-wishing from the people Addams didnโ€™t know illustrate more clearly the scope of her influence and the myriad ways her life and work inspired people outside of the reform movements she led. These more common messages came from women, men, and young people worried about the state of the world. They came from mothers, teachers, and religious souls who admired Addamsโ€™s integrity, humanity, intellect, and resolve. One came from Harold Palmer, an inmate in a New York Prison, who had grown up in the Hull-House neighborhood. One came from Bess Swett, a representative from the South Sioux City Womanโ€™s Club in Nebraska. Another came from Mamie Jefferson, a school teacher in Camden, NJ. And one came from Morris Osofsky, a teenager from the Bronx, New York:

2085 Walton Avenue
Bronx, New York
December 10, 193

Dear Miss Addams,

Bravo!! May a seventeen-year-old high-school student offer his very sincerest congratulations on the awarding of the Nobel Peace Prize?

As an advocate of peace and a great humanitarian you have long been the idol of we young would-be philanthropists who so often say, โ€œIf I had a million dollars. Iโ€™d give it to charity.โ€

But perhaps I bore you so I will cease now and again permit me to say thatย noย person is more deserving of the prize than yourself,ย Congratulations!

Very respectfully,
Morris Osofsky

One of my favorite tasks as a historian is to uncover the lives of ordinary people, to do the detective work necessary to identify them, and then to share their stories. It is often a difficult task, because historians are always at the mercy of the incomplete historical record. People of the past are often hiding in the historical shadows. They move, they get married and change their names, they die at sea or in foreign countries, they are illiterate, they have their foreign names butchered or change them to become American, they burn their letters. Sometimes the paper trail ends and the historical trail runs cold.

From young Mr. Osofskyโ€™s letter, I know he lived at 2085 Walton Avenue in the Bronx and was born in 1914. I quickly find him in the 1930 U.S. Census, living at that exact address with his parents and an older sister. From that census page, I learn that Morrisโ€™s father Nathan Osofsky (born c. 1875) immigrated from Russia in 1904 and was a clerk in a delicatessen. Morrisโ€™s mother Miriam Osofsky (born c. 1875) immigrated from Russia in 1910. The native language of both parents was Yiddish, so I also know now that the family was Jewish. Morris and his sister Ethel (born c. 1917) were born in New York and grew up as the children of immigrants.

I find Morris and his parents in the 1940 U.S. Census, as well, although in this record his mother is named Mary, either a personal choice or a mistake by the census taker. At some point between 1931 and 1940, the family moved to Brooklyn, New York. Morris’s father was a counter man at a delicatessen there, and Morris, aged 26, had been out of work for seventy weeks. In trying to fill in the nine-year gap and move beyond 1940, I do some searching in newspapers but quickly learn there were two Morris Osofskyโ€™s in Brooklyn at the same time and nearly the same age, and there is not enough evidence to untangle them.

A vintage registration card filled out by hand for Maurice Osafsky, dated 1940s, listing personal details such as address, age, birthdate, place of birth, and emergency contact.I then attempt one those hopeful-but cautious searches in Ancestry.com, hoping to find another clue to pick up the trail. I find a military registration card signed by a Morris Osofsky, born in Yonkers, N.Y., ย on April 14, 1914. And, huzzah! His address on the card matches his address in the 1940 census. Also on the card, Osofsky had listed his mother Mary Osofsky at that same address in Brooklyn as his contact. This card is not only a record of his name, birthdate, and current address, it is also my historical missing link. Because, at the top of the card, the name โ€œMorris Osofskyโ€ was stricken, and written in red ink was โ€œMaurice Paul [effective] 1-15-46.โ€

Eureka! Morris Osofsky had changed his name, and that is why my trail ran cold in 1940.

I then check the 1950 census and find Maurice Paul, the Brooklyn 36-year-old formerly known as the Bronx high school student named Morris Osofsky. He was living with Nathan Osofsky, age 76 (that tracks), and Mary Osofsky, age 76 (also tracks), and both born in Russia (more corroboration). Miriam had, indeed, morphed into Mary, and their son had become Maurice Paul. A quick newspaper search fills in the final detail. In 1945, Morris Osofsky petitioned the court to legally change his name to Maurice Paul. The notice included his wife Rose and one-year-old son Barry, also legally changing their surname to Paul.

Oh, how I do love playing history detective. And when a single document connects two disparate dots, in this case a corrected military registration card, I give my thanks to Clio.

The discovery of the legal name change opened up a flood of new documents and evidence of the ordinary extraordinary life of Morris Osofosky/Maurice Paul. I am especially happy to share the details here in a blog post, because only a very distilled version of his story will appear in a footnote to his letter, which we will publish in Volume 6 of The Selected Papers of Jane Addams.

As a youngster, Morris Osofsky was employed in the restaurant business, perhaps even working in the same delicatessen as his father. He appreciated the strict discipline of his parents and respected their hard work and struggle as immigrants. He was also greatly influenced by their good sense and frugality, but remembered that โ€œevery so often Pop would slip a dollar bill in the toe of my stocking while I slept (so Mom shouldnโ€™t know about it). While Mom always slipped me an extra quarter or so when I went to the movies (only donโ€™t tell Pop).

Osofsky was unemployed during at least one good stretch of time during the Great Depression, he married Rose Ress in Brooklyn on December 12, 1941, and had a son named Barry. In 1945, he changed his name to Maurice Paul; and sometime before April 1950, he and Rose were separated. I found no evidence that the couple divorced, but Maurice Paul never remarried.

A black and white illustration of a man typing at a desk next to the title Unadjusted Impressions by Maurice Paul, framed by a decorative border.In 1950, Maurice Paul was living in Brooklyn with his parents and working as a journalist in a literary agency. It is the professional side of his story about which he left the most clues. He became a reform-minded journalist and wrote on a wide variety of subjects, especially in the beginning of his journalism career. He published articles in newspapers and periodicals, including the Brooklyn Daily, where he started writing a column entitled โ€œUnadjusted Impressions.โ€ The column was an eclectic collection of facts, observations, and literary quotes. The style of the writing was colloquial.

In 1961, Paul became the editor of the Canarsie Courier, which covered the Canarsie neighborhood of Brooklyn on Jamaica Bay. He continued to publish the โ€œUnadjusted Impressionsโ€ column in his new paper. Yet it was in his role as editor that Paul found his true calling, living up to the spirit of a good journalist by speaking truth to power. His hard-hitting editorials called out bad government and demanded community improvements, and his advocacy was hailed as instrumental in pressuring local officials to build a modern, new high school and to replace an antiquated and dilapidated police station. Paul also took on the N.Y. Transit Authority, which resulted in improved transportation networks in Brooklyn.

A black-and-white, grainy photo of a man in a suit and glasses sitting behind a desk or podium, looking at the camera.In 1967, Paul was awarded the Canarsie High School Human Rights Award for championing โ€œthe cause of tolerance, human decency, and brotherhood.โ€ I wonder if the 53-year-old Maurice sitting in that packed high school gymnasium being honored remembered the 17-year-old Morris who wrote to Jane Addams, identifying himself as a โ€œwould-be philanthropist.โ€ I did not have the luxury to read all of the articles Maurice Paul wrote over the years, but a search for him and Jane Addamsโ€™s name together in one newspaper database revealed no evidence that he ever publicly credited her with his civic concerns.

I wish I could write that Jane Addams inspired Maurice Paulโ€™s good deeds, although I do believe that every adult who inspires a young person gets into the subconscious mind of the emerging adult. Maurice Paul certainly had good parents, and they can take the credit for his success in the world. They fled horrible conditions for Jews in Russia to make a better life for themselves in the United States, and their all-American son, no doubt, made them proud. Yet I cannot help but believe that the teenager so inspired to write to Jane Addams in 1931 was also shaped by his knowledge of her good work. Maurice Paul was a writer in his bones, but perhaps Jane Addamsโ€™s dedication to make the world a better place inspired him to use his own unique talent and passion to make his community a better place.

Maurice Paul suffered a fatal stroke in 1969. He was only 55 years old, and his death was a terrible shock to his newspaper and his community. He had only just taken on a campaign, through his editorials, to eliminate the โ€œJet noise problemโ€ in Canarsie. His advocacy would be missed, as the obituary in the Canarsie Courier opined: โ€œCanarsie lost one of its most respected and dedicated fighters for civic improvement โ€ฆ He wrote extensively about the wonders of nature and the animal kingdom. But Maurice was at his best at a typewriter, โ€˜telling offโ€™ disinterested public officials who neglected their civic obligations.โ€

Stacy Lynn, Associate Editor

Sources:ย Legal Notice for Morris Osofsky, Brooklyn (NY) Citizen, Dec. 12, 1945, 8; 1930, 1940, 1950 U.S. Censuses; U.S., World War II Draft Cards Young Men, 1940-1947; New York, NY, U.S., Marriage License Indexes, 1907-2018; โ€œUnadjusted Impressions,โ€ Canarsie Courier, Feb. 18, 1966, 9; โ€œHuman Rights Award to Maurice Paul,โ€ Canarsie Courier, June 8, 1967, 7; โ€œMaurice Paul, Editor, Dead at 55,โ€ Canarsie Courier, Aug. 7,ย  1969, 1; Letters to Jane Addams in the Jane Addams Digital Edition: Nicholas Murray Butler, Dec. 9, 1931; Louis Lincoln Emmerson Addams, Dec. 10, 1931; William Lyon Mackenzie King, Dec. 10, 1931; Frederick Joseph Libby, Dec. 10, 1931; Carl Eric Olaf Lindin, Dec. 10, 1931; Morris Paul Osofsky, Dec. 10, 1931; Oswald Garrison Villard, Dec. 11, 1931; Jane Addams Thompson, Dec. 12, 1931; Jane Addams Weinreb, Dec. 13, 1931; Gilbert Murray Addams, Dec. 16, 1931; Mamie E. Jefferson, Dec. 17, 1931; Bess Swett, Dec. 22, 1931; Mary McLeod Bethune, Dec. 23, 1931; Sophia H. Z. Chen, Dec. 24, 1931; Mary Gladys Sykes Thoday, Feb. 6, 1932.

Generation Sangfroid

A woman with outstretched arms welcomes a young girl running toward her; two women watch in the background. A suitcase labeled Montana sits nearby. Text reads: That child needs a woman to look after her.

Currently, I am editing documents in the Jane Addams Papers from the 1920s. Jeannette Rankin, the first woman elected to the United States Congress, has been popping up a lot in my daily work. Rankin went to Europe with Addams in 1919 to attend the International Congress of Women in Zurich. She was a field secretary for the Women’s International League for Peace and Freedom (WILPF), of which Jane Addams was president. And in 1924, she lived and worked at Hull-House.

Of course, I had known about Rankin since I was an undergraduate studying womenโ€™s history, but I never had any depth of knowledge about her or her life. For a blog post I thought I would explore what led her to Hull-House, suspecting that Jane Addams was that gravitational pull. But those plans went almost immediately off the rails when I read a description of Rankin as exhibiting considerable sangfroidโ€”sang-froid, from the French, literally โ€œcold bloodโ€โ€”self-possession, coolness, or, asย Merriam-Websterย defines it, someone who is โ€œcool as a cucumber,โ€ possessing โ€œimperturbability especially under strain.โ€

Wow, what a word, sangfroid, I thought (after I looked it up). And the more I kept reading the more I agreed with the description of Jeannette Rankin, the tough nut from Montana. This woman dared to run for a seat in the U.S. House of Representatives in 1916, just two years after women earned the right to vote there. She was a woman who unapologetically campaigned on a platform of equal suffrage for all American women, child protection legislation, and preparedness for peace instead of preparedness for war, while all of Europe was at war.

A woman with outstretched arms welcomes a young girl running toward her; two women watch in the background. A suitcase labeled Montana sits nearby. Text reads: That child needs a woman to look after her.
In this cartoon, Rankin’s bag is packed for Washington, as the Susan B. Anthony Amendment for woman suffrage reaches out for her. Nina Allender, “Come to Mother,” 1917, Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs, Washington, DC.

Cool as a cucumber, indeed, this 35-year-old Republican woman who won her Congressional seat despite Democrats sweeping up nearly all the others in Montana that year. This unrepentant pacifist Congresswoman voted NO in 1917 to declare war on Germany. โ€œI want to stand by my country,โ€ she said, โ€œbut I cannot vote for war.โ€ Her vote won her praise in Montana, within the peace movement, and among Quakers, but she had been one of only a handful of dissenters in Congress and there was not much praise coming from anywhere else. Interestingly, Rankin had the historic opportunity to vote against world war again during her second term in the U.S. House of Representatives on December 8, 1941. On that day she cast the single, lonely, dissenting voice of Congress on the resolution to declare war against Japan. Defending her position, which was widely condemned and made her reelection impossible, she said: โ€œAs a woman I canโ€™t go to war, and I refuse to send anyone else.โ€

And guess what? Jeannette Rankin lived long enough to protest the Vietnam War, too. On January 15, 1968, she led the Jeannette Rankin Brigade and several thousand marchers protesting the war in Washington. When a reporter asked her if she wanted her country to surrender in Vietnam, 87-year old Rankin said: โ€œSurrender is a military idea. When youโ€™re doing something wrong, you stop.โ€

A woman in a long white dress and wide-brimmed hat descends outdoor stone steps, holding her skirt. Two men in suits stand at the top of the steps, watching her. Wrought iron railings line the stairs.
Rankin leaving the White House in 1917. Photograph by Harris & Ewing, Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs, Washington, DC.

Through all of it, Rankin was true to her principles, unwavering under tremendous pressure.

I kept reading about Rankin because she is fascinating, but I was no longer interested in her time at Hull-House (at least for now). Now I was intrigued by the qualities of Rankin’s character, particularly as compared with those of Jane Addams. I saw the common traits of quiet determination, commitment to personal values, and self-confidence. You see, at the Addams Papers we sometimes grumble a little bit about the stoicism of our dear subject. We sometimes long to discover chinks in the armor of her curated public personal. Jane Addams didn’t write much of anything at all about how hard it was to be a woman trying to save the world in the Progressive Era. We are sometimes frustrated that her composure even during the most stressful periods of her life makes it hard to know her. But as I kept reading about Rankin, I wondered if that biographer was onto something. Sangfroid, that curious new word, was pounding in my head as I continued reading.

Born in Montana in 1880, nine years before it gained statehood, Rankin was educated at Montana State University and the New York School of Philanthropy. Rankinโ€™s interest in reform and social work mirrored the perspectives and paths of other educated and reform-minded women of her generation, but unlike most of them her priorities of suffrage, reform, and pacifism veered her directly into politics. Rankinโ€™s term in Congress brought her fame and much respect and she rendered good service to her constituency, but she failed to be reelected in 1918. However, she seemed unphased by the defeat and just moved forward open to the next opportunity. After she left office in 1919, she joined the pacifist movement, went to Zurich with Addams, and became an active WILPF member. After Zurich, she worked with the formidable Florence Kelley at the National Consumers’ League. Then after she left Hull-House in 1924, she bought a small farm in Georgia, living a simple life there without plumbing and electricity. She kept her home in Montana, perhaps always thinking she might return to politics, and served nine years as a lobbyist for the National Council for the Prevention of War. She won her second term in Congress in 1940, beating out her antisemitic incumbent opponent. No matter what she was doing or where she was, she lived with intention and on her own terms.

The surface reading I was doing to write a short piece about her life was making it easy to see why Jane Addams took a shine to Jeannette Rankin. She was an intriguing woman, principled, fair-minded, and strong-willed. As if I needed more proof to believe that Jeannette Rankin was self-possessed, an example of Sangfroid right out of the Oxford English Dictionary, I came across the official portrait of the 65th Congress., the first in which she served.

A large group of men and one woman in formal attire pose on the steps of a government building; one person near the center (the woman!) is circled in yellow. Numbers are marked above each individual.
The 65th Congress, 1917, Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs, Washington, DC. Click to see the full photograph in all its panoramic glory.

There is Congresswoman Jeannette Rankin, sitting nearly dead center, the central portico of the U.S. Capital right behind her. The only hat and the only skirt. A woman in a sea of men.ย  Uncrossed legs and upright posture, she commands her space. There is a quiet, determined expression on her face. She is far more dignified than many of her fellows near her in the front row, slouching, legs splayed, arms crossed, and one shielding his eyes from the sun as he gazes into the distance at something he deems more interesting than the capturing of this historic photograph. Congresswoman Jeannette Rankin is sitting in that portrait like she belonged there because, of course, she knew she belonged there.

Yep.

A group of men in suits gather around Jane Addams and Lillian Wald in hats, one with a feather, outside a large building with ornate windows and columns.
Sangfroid on display. Jane Addams (with Lillian Wald to her right) cool as a cucumber with an all-male group of journalists asking questions. (Image courtesy Library of Congress).

Sangfroid.

Unflappable is a word I have frequently used to describe Jane Addams. It is an apt word for a woman who stuck to her principles no matter the pressure. A woman who over and over and over againย  kept making informed arguments in Springfield before the Illinois General Assembly about the evils of child labor against the manufacturing lobby who did not care one whit that factories were stealing the futures of children. Jane Addams, unflappable in the face of attacks that she was un-American, a Bolshevik, a traitor, because she dared to exercise her constitutional right to speak out against war and to promote peace for the benefit of humanity.

Unflappable works, but at every turn Jane Addams also exhibited considerable Sangfroid. Yes. Sangfroid is better. Unflappable sounds like a stiff brimmed, oversized, Edwardian hat on the windy city streets of Chicago. Sangfroid is a mighty oak standing against an impossible and exasperating Prairie tempest.

Yes. Sangfroid is better, so much so that I am beginning to consider the idea that what we have here is a generation of Sangfroid. Jeannette Rankin and Florence Kelley and Julia Lathrop and Jane Addams and so many members of that reforming generation of women were unperturbed, especially under strain. They had to be.

Rankin was the only woman in Congress when she served that first term in Congress. Everything she did and said was under a microscope. America was watching. The press was watching. History was watching. Jeannette Rankin stood up tall against all of that scrutiny. Sangfroid.

When Florence Kelley became the chief factory inspector for Illinois in 1893, she had to enter factories run by men to tell them that they were in violation of the law. She had to report her findings to a legislature of men at a time when women had no political power at all. Not surprisingly, men fought her tooth and nail, but still she kept walking into those factories and writing reports that led to the enacting of child labor legislation that changed lives and the future. Sangfroid.

When Julia Lathrop became the director of the U.S. Children’s Bureau in 1912, she was the favorite choice of many progressive men in Washington. However, many believed her task was woman’s work, not real work, and her budget to protect children was a fraction of the budget the U.S. government spent on the protections of livestock. Still, Lathrop did her work, spearheaded revelatory research studies, educated an entire generation about the needs of America’s most vulnerable children, and changed how Americans defined childhood despite an economic and political system that chafed at every suggestion of reform. Sangfroid.

Jane Addams was the first woman to do so many things I cannot name them all here but will give you a few examples: she was the first woman garbage inspector in Chicago, first woman president of the National Conference of Charities and Corrections, first woman to receive an honorary degree from Yale University, first woman to deliver a commencement address at the University of Chicago, and the first American woman to win the Nobel Peace Prize. She served on numerous boards and committees in which she was the sole woman. She boldly took her seat on panels of male scholars.ย  She lobbied before male-dominated state legislatures and the U.S. Congress and met with the most important religious, business, and political leaders in the United States and around the globe to make her arguments for a better world. For much of the time she had no political power, but she exerted her will anyway. She couldn’t even vote for president until 1916, but long before that she commanded audiences with presidents and sat down with them as an equal. Sangfroid.

This reform generation of American women was smart and compassionate and they had bold and brilliant ideas about how to make the world a better place. But perhaps even more important than their empathy and their ideas was the nature of their steely nerve. Men had all the power, and if women wanted to change the world they had to sit down at the table with disagreeable and disinterested and dismissive men and make them see the light. These women expected the chorus of doubt from those men (and some women, as well), but doubt for themselves was not an option. They had to open the doors and let themselves in, stand in extremely uncomfortable spaces, and hold their ground. Although they possessed warm hearts for the betterment of humanity, they had to be a little cold blooded.ย  Self-possessed. Cool as damned cucumbers.

In 1906, President Theodore Roosevelt wrote Jane Addams: โ€œWill you let me say a word of very sincere thanks to you for the eminent sanity, good-humor and judgment you always display in pushing matters you have at heart? I have such awful times with reformers of the hysterical and sensational stamp, and yet I so thoroughly believe in reform, that I fairly revel in dealing with anyone like you.โ€

Jane Addams, Jeannette Rankin, and all of those reform women were up against thousands of patronizing Theodore Roosevelts as well as thousands more men who didn’t have Roosevelt’s bent toward reform and general interest in interesting women like Jane Addams. I’m now thinking about the bold women who organized female workers through the Women’s Trade Union League, Mary McDowell who worked her entire life in the impossibly tough Union Stockyards of Chicago, and suffragists, yes, all the suffragists. Alice Paul certainly exhibited imperturbability under strain! Sangfroid. All of them. Sangfroid.

I’ve written before about how Jane Addams developed a particular persona she found politically effective, a voice that would be heard in a public arena that in many ways was unattuned to women’s voices. I stand by my previous arguments that Jane Addams was guarded, deliberate, and dispassionate because, for her, the changes she wanted to see in her world were more important than any one person doing the work. She set her inner self aside, displayed a resolute dispassion, and made many of the tough Theodore Roosevelts of the world respect her, hear her, and listen to her ideas.

But now I have to wonder. Maybe it wasn’t so hard for Jane Addams to construct a demeanor of calm. Maybe Jane Addams was born exhibiting considerable sangfroid, like Jeannette Rankin’s biographer said she was born. Perhaps Jane Addams succeeded in her work and became the icon of the Progressive Era she became because imperturbability was innate in her character. I certainly would have slugged many of the fools Jane Addams had to face down, because I am, naturally, not even unflappable. I wonder, if we did a personality study of the all of the women who were first to do all kinds of stuff we wouldn’t find that each and every one of them possessed considerable sangfroid. Perhaps the historical circumstances didn’t effect such a demeanor but rather the demeaner itself, deep in their bones, made these women capable of opening all those doors and calmly standing in the fire on the other side.

By Stacy Lynn, Associate Editor

Sources: Nancy C. Unger, โ€œRankin, Jeannette Pickering,โ€ American National Biography; Biographical Directory of Congress; โ€œJeannette Rankin: โ€˜I Cannot Vote for War,โ€™โ€ U.S. House of Representatives, blog; Martha G. Stapler, ed., The Woman Suffrage Year Book (National American Woman Suffrage Association, 1917), 14; from the Jane Addams Digital Edition: Theodore Roosevelt to Jane Addams, January 24, 1906; Congratulatory Telegram for Jeannette Rankin, November 12, 1916; Vachel Lindsay to Jane Addams, April 9, 1917; Romain Rolland to Johannes Vilhelm Jensen, May 15, 1917; Alice Thacher Post to Jane Addams, December 17, 1918 Jane Addams to Mary Rozet Smith, April 18, 1919; Alice Hamilton to Mary Rozet Smith, May 12, 1919; Contributions Received in National Office in Response to Miss Addams’ Letter, March 20, 1924.

 

What’s in a Name? The Jane Addams of. . .

A world map with pink location pins marking various cities in North America, Europe, and South Asia, including the United States, Canada, Mexico, Germany, Norway, Turkey, and India.

You know that you have made it when your name becomes an adjective. In the course of our research on Jane Addams, we regularly come across people in all walks of life who are described as “the Jane Addams of India,” or “the Jane Addams of Northern Michigan,” or even “the Jane Addams of Social Work.” That last one seems a bit odd — as Jane Addams was clearly the Jane Addams of Social Work!

Because Jane Addams was engaged in so many reforms, her namesakes vary as well. Some are social workers and settlement women, such asย  Lillian D. Wald (New York), Constance Currie (Minnesota) or Muriel Lester (London). Others were peace activists, like Halide Edib Adivar (Turkey), Alice Salomon (Germany) or Marรญa Elena Landรกzuri Gil (Mexico).

I’ve built an interactive map of those we have found so far with short biographies that you can explore (see in full screen) .

Who is the Jane Addams of Today?

Seeing the impact that Addams had on the lives of her contemporaries begs the question, Who is the Jane Addams of today? What problems do we face today that need someone of her character and care? Settlement houses faded away for the most part in the mid-20th century, but neighborhood organizing is still a vital movement. Immigrants still need help navigating American society. Even child labor, the reform Addams achieved in her lifetime, does not seem so settled. War still ravages the world, and its great expense hampers our ability to fund social services, education and health care.

Is she (or he) out there?ย  — working quietly to better their neighborhood, protesting for peace and social justice, or helping improve the lives of individuals through sympathy and social work? Time will tell!

Womenโ€™s Activism Before the Second Wave: The Case of Florence Scalaโ€™s Leadership in the Working Class Neighborhood of Hull-House

A woman in a striped dress and headscarf speaks into a microphone while holding papers, addressing an audience in a formal setting. People are seated in the background, listening attentively.

By Rima Lunin Schultz

A woman in a striped dress and headscarf speaks into a microphone while holding papers, addressing an audience in a formal setting. People are seated in the background, listening attentively.
Florence Scala speaking at City Hall in 1961 (Chicago Tribune).

In 1963, as Ann Keating recounted in her prior blog, Florence Scala had already been engaged as a social activist for several decades in the neighborhood made famous by Jane Addams. She had participated as a leader in the grassroots organization of her community on the Near West Side, had brought the various groups of people together in herย  working-class neighborhood to develop a plan to improve the community and remain residents.ย  This challenged the pattern of urban renewal that had emerged after World War II in American cities, where working-class residents were being moved or were moving themselves into suburban locationsย  away from their original neighborhoods close to the central city and the cultural and social institutions that they as immigrants had built. Here was a different attempt to live in urban space in an integrating and economically and socially mixed community that supported working-class culture.ย  Scalaโ€™s neighborhood was not characterized as a strong hold of feminist militancy.ย  Rather it was a place filled with religious and cultural institutions, ethnic shops

Florence had run for political office by 1963, twice. She hadn’t succeeded in winning, but she had given the city politicalย  organization, the political machine in Chicago, a scare. They had noticed her and worried about the spread of the democratic ideas and self-governing philosophy represented by her campaigns and her leadership.

When we look at the Scala’s story, it differs from the idea of a narrative of retreat, flight, and private life depicted by middle-class feminists of the second wave, when they began to develop a narrative of the origins of what they believed was a new and unique social movement of women who were being awakened from a kind of passivity and even apolitical consumerism as homemakers separated from the public events and public issues of the 40s and 50s and even early 60s. Remember 1963 is the publication date of Betty Friedanโ€™s The Feminine Mystique. ย  Florence Scala and the women of the near west side who joined her in the Harrison Halstead Street community group were not passive. They were not living private lives, disconnected from public issues. They were not separated from the challenges of urban life. Their narrative is very different.

Historians have begun the reclaiming or rediscovery of the working-class history in neighborhoods of urban America from the 1930s through the 1970s, and have begun to understand more fully that one of the major themes of the second half of the 20th century has been the transformation of cities by the intentional breakup of working-class neighborhoods. This was accomplished by the clearance of working class neighborhoods and the construction of upper and middle class housing in their place.

These working-class neighborhoods we have found in our research were never considered final or permanent parts of American urban life by the social reformers who cared deeply for the well-being of individual families, children, women, and men of the working classes but did not see the answer in working-class culture itself but only in the transformation of that working-class culture into something that resembled the middle class. It is not an accident then that we have failed to write the history of social activism of women of the working class.

We haven’t paid enough attention to the activities, daily life, and resistance and resilience of neighborhoods, the mixture of people and ideas that made up the social fabric of these neighborhoods and the value that the heterogeneity of these neighborhoods held for American democracy. Florence’s story becomes even more significant when we link it to the activities and efforts in cities across industrial America and when we begin to gather the biographies of women whose efforts to construct solutions for their communities brought them into public life alongside the men in the community just as they had joined the workforce at the beginning of the 20th century, even earlier, and had been visibly part of public life in working-class neighborhoods all along. They were never absent.

They were never isolated. They were connected and they were part of the social fabric of these communities. More than being part of the social fabric, they were builders of that social fabric along with male leadership and of course they had disabilities because of their sex.

How much credit should weย  give for Scalaโ€™s activismย  to Jane Addams and women of Hull-House? Florence is our best guide in evaluating the factors influencing her formation as a civic minded and ethically engaged community leader.

Jane Addams sits outdoors surrounded by a group of children, attentively listening to her. The scene appears historical, with everyone dressed in early 20th-century clothing.
Jane Addams and children on the steps of terrace in front of the resident’s dining hall. (University of Illinois, Chicago , Jane Addams Memorial Collection).

What Florence tells us in her talk to the teachers at Andrew Jackson Elementary School in 1994 is an important message. She tells the teachers how meaningful their role was in the neighborhood. They were guides and models of some of the best things about being American. Florence tells us something additionally about them. She says, they were able to understand us, meaning the children of immigrants, because they were themselves the children of immigrants.

These Irish American school teachers who taught Florence and her brothers at the Andrew Jackson School were themselves the products of this experience of becoming American. They modeled a kind of civic life, a public life, as educated women whose standing in the community at that time was important. They were respected and they were leaders.

Five people in tattered clothing make dramatic, animated facial expressions and gestures, with arms raised and eyes wide, conveying intense emotion against a plain background. The photo is black and white.
Hull-House production of a Tale of Two Cities. Florence Scala is second from left. (Wallace Kirkland. University of Illinois at Chicago).

In an interview Florence recounted that the Irish American teachers were catalytic in bridging her family to the Social Settlement.ย  Florence remembered that her parents were not that eager to let their children go to Hull-House as they were wary ofย  sending her away from their gaze, their supervision. We can speculate further about the complicated social fabric of the neighborhood and the various opportunities for social growth.ย  Many of the first and second generation American teachers had been educated in the Roman Catholic schools in working class neighborhoods.

But Florenceโ€™s parents listened to the school teachers and she went to Hull-House, where women likeย  Jane Addams and Julia Lathrop, stood out as exemplars of women who supported educational opportunities for immigrant and working class children.

A group of people, mostly young adults, pose cheerfully on a large wooden playground structure in a park, smiling and waving. The structure is pyramid-shaped, and some people are sitting while others are standing or climbing.
Hull-House resident Edith de Nancrede (bottom left) and her social drama club. (University of Illinois at Chicago)

More than offering classes in the arts and in practical subjects, as well as history and civics, through clubs and summer camp Hull-House infused the working class children with a belief in their own value.ย  Scala explored her own interests and she realized there were possibilities for her own growth.ย  Florence made that connection and these women at Hull-House became models, models of independent, educated leadership of womanhood that could have a career, that could change the world. Florence was especially interested in dramatics.

Black and white portrait of a Julia Lathrop wiith dark hair styled up, wearing a high-necked, long-sleeve light-colored blouse with ruffles and lace details, looking slightly to the side with a neutral expression.
Julia C. Lathrop, Hull-House resident and director of the Federal Children’s Bureau from 1912-1921. (Twenty Years at Hull-House).

The neighbors knew that Jane Addamsย  traveled abroad, that she spoke with important leaders in other countries, that she was for peace and opposed war, that she was for certain kinds of reforms in the United States. They had this idea of her and she was a model and she was real to them in the sense of showing, demonstrating how you could be a leader, a force in the public arena, a person of influence, who could encourage presidents and prime ministers to adopt certain programs. Julia Lathrop, went to Washington, D.C., to head the Children’s Bureau.ย  They were women who modeled women of service.

But it was not just Hull-House that demonstrated social activism and women participation in the social fabric of life. The women religious, who were the teaching sisters in the Roman Catholic schools in the neighborhood,ย  the women who were part of the congregational life of the parish churches, they had a degree of autonomy and agency that belies the fact that they were part of a religious institutional structure that was hierarchical, patriarchal, and in many ways conservative, and certainly not feminist. Yet, in the context of parish life and of the parochial schools that were set up and run independently of the male diocesan hierarchy, they had independence to some degree.

They were outspoken, independent women religious, like the guardian angel woman religious, Sister Filibert (Spizirri), who was a major supporter for the work that Florence and her activist women were doing in the neighborhood. Again, demonstrating a model of womanhood in a working class community that defied the stereotype of an obedient and passive nun who was under the thumb of the male clergy. Beyond this, or even before this, Florence had her mother and a grandmother and other mothers and grandmothers in the neighborhood who were part of the entrepreneurial journey that had taken them from Europe to America, to Chicago, to the neighborhood where they had found a way to own a store, a bit of property, to have made their way into the comfortable working class that lived in this near west side neighborhood of very mixed economic outcomes.

Sepia photo of an old-fashioned grocery store with shelves of cans and goods. A woman stands behind the counter, another woman holds a child in front. Various products and sacks are visible throughout the cozy shop.
Genarosa Napolitano and Mary Marinello holding Rose Marinello at 13 months old, in the family grocery store on Polk Street. (Courtesy of Father Steven Giovangelo).

 

Property ownership, home ownership, retail proprietorship flourished and we can see how women worked outside the home in these family businesses, holding their babies with them. These were family businesses and the community supported this kind of entrepreneurship. They worked alongside their husbands.

One of the things we learn about the Giovangelo family is that Florence’s mother worked alongside her father in the tailor shop. She ironed, she worked alongside his craft as a tailor.ย  The household was integrated into an economic unit that allowed the children to be near their mother and father, to have the mother and father have a partnership that sustained the family business.

So women were working. Then of course there were the women in the neighborhood who were working in factories, were taking homework back to their apartments andย  toiling,ย  on night shifts, were part of the trade unions.ย  They also were out on strike, were part of the picket lines. This was the working class neighborhood that Florence Scala inhabited.

There was no lack of female models of womanhood that projected engagement with the real world, engagement with public life, engagement with the economic realities of daily life and of the cultural and social institutions that made up the religious and cultural and ethnic activities of the neighborhood.ย  Florence and other working class women could readily see themselves in these women and dream of getting more education, of following new pathways and making decisions about their lives. What is interesting about the middle class version of working class life, which is the story of the men and women in the neighborhood that Jane Addams tells us, in her famous Twenty years at Hull-House and in other writings that she did in her lifetime, is how different her narrative about immigrant women in the neighborhood is from the one that I am describing. In the beginning, Jane Addams did not understand the immigrant women in her neighborhood very well. She thought of them as being isolated, disconnected, not just from the life of the city itself, but disconnected even from their own children who were going to become Americans very fast, very rapidly.

She saw that the Italian women, the Jewish women, Greek women, were not able to have the same relationships with their children that they had had prior to moving to America. They were disconnected, isolated. She tells a number of stories in Twenty Years at Hull-House that identify this situation (Jane Addams, โ€œFirst Days At Hull-House,โ€ Chapter 5 in Twenty Yearsย  at Hull-House with Autobiographical Notes (New York: Macmillan, 1910), 110-111).

Women who don’t know much more than what they can learn from the small place they live in, the block they live in. They don’t know about the world outside. They can’t connect.

She sees them as she worries about them, she cares about them, but she does not see them as a source of strength, a source of activism. She does not see them as participating in a social life, she says they have no social life (Jane Addams, โ€œForeign-Born Children in the Primary Grades,โ€ National Educational Association Journal of Proceeding and Addresses of the Thirty-Sixth Annual Meeting Held at Milwaukee, Wis., July 6-9, 1897 (University of Chicago Press, 1897), 106).

She means not that they don’t go to parties and that kind of social life. She means they have no relationship to the social structure in society. This is a sociological observation on her part, that they’re not connected and even if they could vote at that time, they have no relationship to a public opinion.

A sense of civic-mindedness has to develop.ย  She would not look to them necessarily as being capable of developing the kind of leadership role in the community of a Florence Scala. It’s not surprising to me when I read how the director of Hull-House at the time of Florence’s major leadership in the neighborhood, a man by the name of Russell Ballard, is happy for what Florence is doing in her political life, but would not have imagined her doing anything like that or being capable because he has his perspective, like Jane Addams’, even though he has worked closely, as Jane Addams did, with the neighbors.

Ballard has even worked more closely with neighbors, in the 1950s when he was director, was involved with the Near West Side Planning Board. He has seen the capacity of the neighbors to be their own leaders and organizers. He still retains this stereotype of working-class life and of working-class women and is hard-pressed to see Florence as something more than an energetic and well-intentioned housewife.

Addams later developed a deeper understanding of what the women in the neighborhood were really all about and she began to see that their activities, which she could not have defined initially as being a form of social activism, were indeed examples of a challenge to the conditions of life and to the patriarchy. They were a form of resilience, resistance, and in many ways a kind of feminist consciousness that she had missed in her descriptions done earlier. This realization that the women were part of a social movement that had more in common with radical feminism than she had understood before was the revelation that she writes about in The Long Road of Women’s Memory in 1916, an important book that deserves more attention (Jane Addams, The Long Road of Woman’s Memory (Urbana & Chicago: University of Illinois Press, 2002). In this, she began to understand that the working class women in the neighborhood were engaged in challenges to the system that oppressed them and their families at the same time that they were community builders developing cultural and social space for themselves and their group in very positive leadership roles.

By the 1940s, women in working-class neighborhoods were participating in movements to improve the schools, to deal with race relations, to provide daycare and healthcare for children, and to develop affordable housing. They were standing up for their rights and the rights of minorities in the state legislature and they were fighting for representation in the unions of the AFL that were traditionally resistant to women’s participation and the empowerment of women trade unionists. This was happening at the same time that other women were developing community life in suburbia, creating new religious institutions, joining PTAs, developing school boards, working for bond issues to pay for libraries, beginning to attack the major polluters who were poisoning the air and the food supply, worrying about nuclear war.

All of this was going on in this period and when we begin to examine working-class life in more complicated gendered ways and in the context of resistance to urban renewal as a form of social activism that was more than simply a reaction to the migration of blacks to northern cities, but had to do with a more complicated set of issues stemming from the failure of social reform to accept and value heterogeneous working-class districts as permanent parts of urban America.

Working class women were on a different timetable then their middle class sisters. Working class women continued to navigate family businesses, low paying jobs, and maintainย  devotional and cultural affiliations and kinship relations locally and internationally.ย  This differed from the stereotype of the American suburban housewife after World War II.ย  This paper cannot begin to dislodge that stereotype.ย  Here we are focusing on the social activism of a working class woman and her allies in a period in which womenโ€™s activism had been considered minimal.


Rima Lunin Schultz is an academic historian who has written articles and books on Jane Addams, Chicago women in Catholic and Protestant faith traditions and the culture of urban elites. She serves as a member of the Project’s Advisory Board.ย 

Florence Giovangelo Scala, Hull-House and Neighborhood Planning

Three women sit on the ground eating and drinking, while a fourth woman, standing, hands them food. They are indoors, beside a wall with a mural. The women appear to be engaged in conversation and sharing a meal.

By Ann Keating.

Note by the author: Rima Lunin Schultz and I have been working for six years on a manuscript entitled: In the Shadow of Jane Addams: Planning in a Working-Class Neighborhood, 1889-1963.ย  We have encountered many interesting characters, including Florence Scala.ย  Scala is famous for leading the unsuccessful fight against construction of the University of Illinois in the early 1960s (she was in favor of a Chicago campus but not the Near West Side location).ย  Less well known was her strong connection to Hull-House and neighborhood planning efforts.

Black-and-white photo of a three-story corner building with worn walls and a striped awning over the entrance. People walk on the sidewalk, cars are parked, and a street sign reads Taylor and S. Miller St.
Giovangelo residence at 1030 West Taylor Street (Chicago Tribune, October 19, 1962).

Florence Giovangelo Scala was born on September 17, 1918, to Italian immigrants Alex and Teresa (Scardepane) Giovangelo. She grew up with her younger brothers in an apartment above her parentsโ€™ tailor shop at 1030 W. Taylor on Chicagoโ€™s Near West Side. The Giovangelo children attended local public schools but also participated in programs at nearby Holy Guardian Angel Catholic Church and at Hull-House both before and after the 1935 death of Jane Addams. The settlement offered the siblings a place to go for sports, recreation, arts, and crafts activities.ย They particularly enjoyed theater productions under the direction of Edith de Nancrede and Eri Hulbert. In the early 1930s, Florence and her brother Ernie developed a close relationship with Hulbert, the grandnephew of Jane Addams.ย  Scala remembered that they were โ€œhis kids,โ€ and took many adventures with him.

A young man in a suit and glasses sits next to an elderly woman in a hat and dress, holding a cane, under a large tree outdoors. Both are looking at the camera with neutral expressions.
Jane Addams and grand-nephew Eri Hulbert, August 1932 (Jane Addams Papers, University of Illinois at Chicago).

On her high school graduation, Scala worked for the Federal Theater Project (WPA) at Hull-House, contributed to a local newspaper, and worked for the draft board.ย  She took college classes, got married, and lived in the same building as her parents on Taylor Street just west of Hull-House. During and after World War II, Scala, her brother Ernie (after attending the University of Illinois), and a group of their neighbors saw the threats to their neighborhood from plans for major expressways and slum clearance.ย  They found a staunch ally in Eri Hulbert who worked tirelessly to create the Near West Side Planning Board with the support of Hull-House. ย ย Scala remembered that Hulbert โ€œtorpedoed me into a big world of ideasโ€”the search for knowledge and understanding of people. To me he was a teacher and a persistent pioneer in this new idea that the people themselves must participate in the planning of their own communities.โ€[1] [2]

While her brother took a paid position with the Near West Side Planning Board, Scala volunteered as secretary and treasurer of the group between 1949 and 1958. An inveterate dog walker, Scala often had a camera in hand, taking photographs of her changing neighborhood. Scalaโ€™s photographs became a critical part of the reframing of the neighborhood not as a slum, but as a vibrant working-class district that needed rehabilitation and improvements.[3] The Planning Board undertook a survey of the Near West Side. Anita Villarreal, a thirty-six-year-old mother of six and active voice in the local Mexican community, created a seven-foot map of the area, while Scala continued to take photographs โ€œof the neighborhood, so that when we ha[d] our meetings, we could show these slides.โ€ Driving the area streets in her large car, she took candid color shots of everyday life that showed a working-class neighborhood with manageable problems. She developed and framed fifty of these images to create an illustrated lecture about the Near West Side, which she delivered to dozens of groups around the neighborhood with her brother. The siblings were central to creating an alternative to the idea that the neighborhood was blighted.[4]

Three people stand in front of a large planning board map labeled present land use, discussing and pointing to areas on the map as part of a planning meeting. The image appears to be from a newspaper.
Florence Scala, J. Ross Humphreys, and William Deknatel study a land use map. (Private collection of Father Steve Giovangelo).

Scalaโ€™s photographs, Villarealโ€™s map, and the raw survey data created a narrative to combat the idea that the whole neighborhood should be cleared. Instead, the Planning Board identified areas to be conserved, as well as some areas that would require slum clearance and redevelopment. That redevelopment could take several formsโ€”private housing, public housing, industrial renewal, and commercial revitalization. Their ideas came together in the groundbreaking 1950 NWSPB plan where, for the first time, a working-class community had developed its own plan for rehabilitation and renewal.

What followed was nearly a decade of delays and disappointments with little forward movement on the 1950 Plan.ย  Eri Hulbert died in 1955, the same year that Mayor Richard J. Daley began his long tenure at City Hall. Downtown interests had the ear of the new mayor, and they wanted new middle-class redevelopment to ring the central business district. They advocated the mass clearance of the working-class neighborhood around Hull-House. When the University of Illinois went looking for a Chicago location, Mayor Daley and those downtown interests endorsed a Near West Side location.

Three women sit on the ground eating and drinking, while a fourth woman, standing, hands them food. They are indoors, beside a wall with a mural. The women appear to be engaged in conversation and sharing a meal.
Florence Scala, left, during overnight sit in at Mayor Richard J. Daley’s office on October 11, 1962. (Frederick Giese / Chicago Tribune).

It is at this juncture, in 1961, that Florence Scala became a household name in Chicago. Her long years with the Planning Board and at Hull-House prepared her for the challenge ahead.ย  Well-known in the Near West Side for her unswerving support of planning initiatives, her neighbors pressed her to become their spokesperson. Scala quickly helped organize the Harrison-Halsted Community Group (HHCG) to protest the proposed campus site.[5]ย  She targeted the City Council and Mayor Daley in marches and sit-ins at City Hall that were well covered in local newspapers, radio, and emerging TV news. In 1963, sheย ran as an independent campaign for alderman; she criticized Chicago’s political “machine” and hoped to defend the interests of ordinary voters in her district. Scalaย endured ridicule, threats, and several bombingย attempts, but remained outspoken. But her campaign was not successfully and on March 5, 1963, the Hull-House trustees accepted $875,000.00 from the City of Chicago for their Near West Side properties.

A black-and-white photo of a large urban construction site, with multiple modernist buildings in progress, cranes in the background, and a city skyline visible under a partly cloudy sky.
Construction of the University of Illinois, Chicago campus, 1964 (College Archives, University of Illinois, Chicago).

Scala, who had for long years been a part of the Hull-House community, was bitter when the settlement turned its back on its neighbors. With the closure of Hull-House and the opening of the University of Illinois campus, the Near West Side was irrevocably changed. It was no longer a working-class neighborhood centered on industrial sites, religious institutions, local parks, and Hull-House. The university now shaped who lived and worked there. Scala lived in the same building at 1030 W. Taylor Street until her death in 2007, but her working-class neighborhood was gone.

Dr. Ann Keating is the Dr. C. Frederick Toenniges Professor of History at North Central College. She is a co-editor of the Encyclopedia of Chicago, and author of several books on Chicago’s buildings and development.ย 


[1] Remarksย byย  Florenceย Giovangeloย Scala,โ€ Eri Hulbert Memorial Meeting, Hull House Garden, May 19, 1955, pgs. 19-20, Eri Baker Hulbert III Papers, Box 1, Folder 39

[2]Sandro Corso, โ€œFlorence Scala: A Disowned Community Leader,โ€ Italian Americana, 37, 2 (Summer 2019), 100-101; Eastwood, Near West Side Stories, 140โ€“141; and Florence Scala interview transcript, 4, Folder 69, Box 4, Hull-House Oral History Collection, Special Collections, University of Illinois at Chicago. See also โ€œMore Unpublished Reminiscences Steven Giovangelo,โ€ January 29, 2014, in possession of Rima Schultz.

[3]โ€œFlorence Scala, 47โ€ in Studs Terkel, Division Street: America (Pantheon Books, 1967), 5.

[4]Florence Scala quoted in Eastwood, Near West Side Stories, 154; NWSPB executive committee meeting, January 26, 1950, Box 39, Hull House Collection. See also Sandro Corso, โ€œFlorence Scala: A Disowned Community Leader,โ€ Italian Americana, 37, 2 (Summer 2019), 99-118.

[5]Scala in Eastman, Near West Side Stories, 154.

Hull House and Benny Goodman

Black and white portrait of Benny Goodman wearing glasses, a suit with a patterned tie, and a herringbone jacket. He is smiling slightly and looking to the side, with his hair neatly combed back.

 

Black and white portrait of Benny Goodman wearing glasses, a suit with a patterned tie, and a herringbone jacket. He is smiling slightly and looking to the side, with his hair neatly combed back.
Benny Goodman featured in the Billboard 1943 Music Yearbook [Billboard, 1943]
Because of Hull-Houseโ€™s strong association with social and political causes, it can be easy for many to overlook the settlement houseโ€™s invaluable contributions to the arts. In bustling early 20th century Chicago, Hull-House served as a prime location for artistic expression and development. The experimental art classes of Dorothy Loeb at the settlement allowed students to express themselves in free and abstract ways. Enella Benedict provided nearly fifty years of service for Hull-Houseโ€™s Art School, which served as an educational beacon. The Hull-House Boysโ€™ Band, as it turns out, would have a hand in producing some of Chicagoโ€™s greatest musicians, the great Benny Goodman chiefly among them.

While most know Benny Goodman for defining an entire era of American music and helping to popularize jazz for mass audiences, his story begins like that of many other Chicagoans born during Hull-Houseโ€™s heyday. โ€œThe King of Swingโ€ was just one of twelve children born to Jewish immigrant parents. The family was defined by severe poverty, living in a slum neighborhood not too far from Hull-House. Goodman would later say โ€œJudging from the neighborhood where I lived, if it hadnโ€™t been for the clarinet, I might just as easily have been a gangster.โ€

This escape through music was exactly what Goodmanโ€™s father sought to provide. He enrolled ten year old Benny and his brothers Harry and Freddy in the Kehelah Jacob Synagogueโ€™s music lessons, but this quickly fell through. Luckily for the Goodmans, the Hull-House Boysโ€™ Band, returning after a hiatus during WWI, had just reopened its doors.ย 

A black-and-white photo shows a marching band of young men in uniform, holding instruments, standing in formation on a city street, with buildings and onlookers in the background.
Hull-House Boys’ Band
[Hull-House Year Book, 1925]
Excitedly playing in his new uniform, Goodman developed his musical skills under the direction of James Sylvester, the Boysโ€™ Bandโ€™s leader and educator. Despite the bandโ€™s repertoire being far from the sounds of jazz that would soon envelop Goodman, he received additional lessons from Franz Schoepp, a well-respected Chicago clarinet teacher. Goodman quickly reached the advanced classes of Hull-Houseโ€™s music program, and was subsequently chosen by Sylvester to play in his 124th Regiment Field Artillery band. Thisย  marked a pivotal point in Goodmanโ€™s musical journey, as it allowed him to play with professional musicians and make money in the process.

As his musical abilities exponentially improved, Goodman also relished in Hull-Houseโ€™s other activities. He was an enthusiastic member of the settlementโ€™s summer camp at the Joseph Tilton Bowen Country Club, gladly taking part in the two-week retreat every summer with his brothers. The woodlands of Waukegan, Illinois were in stark contrast to the dingy conditions of the Chicago ghetto which the boys were exposed to for most of the year.

Goodman went on to work with the likes of Bix Beiderbecke and Ben Pollack, as his music career reached even greater heights. The โ€œKing of Swingโ€ never forgot his experiences at Hull-House, however, even returning to the settlement in 1940 to perform a free concert despite grueling sciatica pain in his leg.

Ultimately, itโ€™s clear that Hull-House provided an invaluable service to Benny Goodmanโ€™s life, supplying him with music, education and socialization at a time when the difficult social and economic conditions of Chicago may have led him on a much different path. Itโ€™s crucially important to remember that Goodman was just one of countless individuals who benefited from the settlementโ€™s services, and that organizations like Hull-House continue to have a hand in producing some of the worldโ€™s most distinguished artists and leaders.

— James La Forge, Editorial Assistant

Sources: Benny Goodman โ€“ The Official Website of the King of Swing. “Biography.” Estate of Benny Goodman. Accessed April 17, 2024; Firestone, Ross. “Swing, Swing, Swing: The Life and Times of Benny Goodman.Norton, 1993; Wilson, John S. “BENNY GOODMAN, KING OF SWING, IS DEAD.” New York Times, June 14, 1986. p. 1;ย 

Guest Post: A Tale of Many Cultures: Clara Landsberg’s Experiences at Hull House

Black and white portrait of a woman with dark hair pulled back, wearing a light-colored top. Above her head is a large handwritten signature that reads Clara Landsberg.

This article in its entirety was published in Volume 46, No. 3 Summer 2022 edition of Chicago Jewish History, a quarterly publication of the Chicago Jewish Historical Society and is being reprinted with the permission of the Society.

A Tale of Many Cultures:ย  Clara Landsbergโ€™s Experiences at Hull House with Eastern European Jewish Immigrants and White Anglo-Saxon Protestant Social Workers

by Cynthia Francis Gensheimer

A sepia-toned photo of Clara Landsberg as a young woman sitting on the grass, smiling and reaching toward a small white animal, with trees and bushes in the background.Clara Landsberg, a Jewish-born teacher, social worker, and pacifist, lived at Hull House in the room directly adjacent to Jane Addamsโ€™s for roughly 20 years and made significant contributions to the Chicago settlement house. However, scholars have paid scant attention to her story until now, perhaps because she never sought prominence during her lifetime.[1] While researching her connection with Bryn Mawr College as part of a larger project on early Jewish women students at the Seven Sisters schools, I have discovered that shortly after graduating in 1897, Landsberg left Judaism to become Episcopalian. Afterward, she maintained ties with her influential Jewish parents but also became a member of the nationโ€™s Protestant elite and of an international sisterhood of pacifists. Like many leading women intellectuals and social workers of her day, Landsberg lived with her lifelong partnerโ€”a womanโ€”in a predominantly female world. This article will provide an overview of Landsbergโ€™s biography, with a focus on her role at Hull House.

Clara was the daughter of a Jewish power couple: Rabbi Max Landsberg and Miriam (Isengarten) Landsberg, leading Jewish intellectuals and nationally known experts on charity administration, with 30 years of hands-on experience in helping the less fortunate in Rochester, New York.[2] Claraโ€™s parents had close working relationships with luminaries Jewish and non-Jewish, including Chicagoโ€™s Rabbi Emil G. Hirsch, Hannah Greenebaum Solomon, and Jane Addams.[3] Closer to home, Susan B. Anthony attended the Landsberg congregationโ€™s annual interfaith Thanksgiving services and, in 1892, recommended Miriam Landsberg for a statewide positionโ€”although that position was ultimately filled by Anthony herself.[4] The Landsbergs helped lead efforts for social good in Rochester with their closest friends: the Unitarian minister William Gannett and his wife, Mary T. L. Gannett. Clara Landsberg followed her parentsโ€™ example in many ways.

Clara can be taken as a case study in the difficulties that many Jewish women of her generation would have faced in attempting to achieve the Landsbergsโ€™ highest ideals. Clara graduated from the most intellectually rigorous womenโ€™s college on the East Coast and, through her partner, Margaret Hamilton, became a member of one of the countryโ€™s most elite Protestant families. Yet even after graduating from college and becoming Episcopalian, she was denied a job at a girlsโ€™ preparatory school because she was still considered Jewish. This discrimination against Jews, even those who had left the faith, was leveled against a young woman of eminent qualifications and impeccable manners. It belied her own parentsโ€™ fervent wish that Judaism should be considered only a religion, not a race, and that Jews should find full acceptance in American society.

Born in Rochester in 1873, Claraโ€”and her two younger sisters, Rose and Graceโ€”attended Miss Cruttendenโ€™s School for Girls, which offered a rigorous college preparatory curriculum, but also equipped its students for lives of simple refinement. Although their social world was predominantly Jewish, they had Christian friends as well. At Roseโ€™s confirmation, Rabbi Landsberg enjoined the teenagers coming of age in his Reform congregation to take a rational approach to religion and to determine their beliefs for themselves without feeling bound by tradition.[5] As the Landsberg children would have known, Susan B. Anthony and Mary T. L. Gannett had done exactly that by becoming Unitarians after growing up as Quakers.

A black-and-white portrait of Rabbi Max Landsberg, a bearded man in a suit, looking to the side. The caption identifies him as an esteemed clergyman from Rochester, New York.At Bryn Mawr College, Clara met her future life partner: Margaret Hamilton, daughter of an upper-class WASP family in Fort Wayne, Indiana.[6] Clara also became acquainted with Margaretโ€™s sisters: Alice Hamilton, who would later establish the field of industrial medicine, and Edith Hamilton, who would famously popularize classical Greek and Roman mythology.[7] Bryn Mawr, founded by Quakers, advertised itself as โ€œpervaded by a simple and practical Christianityโ€ and required daily chapel attendance.[8] Clara, the only Jew of the nearly 50 students in her graduating class, lived on campus and studied classical and modern languages, with a concentration in Latin and Greek.[9] After their 1897 graduation, Clara and Margaret studied abroad at the Sorbonne and the University of Munich.[10]

Around 1900, Clara Landsberg moved to Hull House, where she would room with Alice Hamilton for the next two decades.[11] By the time Clara arrived, three-quarters of Hull Houseโ€™s clientele consisted of Jews from Chicagoโ€™s Near West Side and other neighborhoods.[12] These Jewsโ€”mostly immigrants from Eastern Europeโ€”came to learn English, attend lectures and concerts, and participate in drama, music, and debate clubs.[13] Despite their apprehensions with respect to Christian proselytizing, they predominated among the 9,000 people who visited Hull House each week.[14] Clara Landsberg earned her living by teaching German and history at a local girlsโ€™ school; in her free time, she taughtโ€”and later supervisedโ€”the evening classes at Hull House.[15]

Jane Addams mentored Clara, who was initially in the unique position of being the only resident who had been born and raised Jewish. Jane Addams called her the โ€œdean of our educational departmentโ€โ€”in other words, supervisor of one of the settlementโ€™s core activities.[16] In 1908, a paragraph in the Bryn Mawr Alumnรฆ Quarterlyโ€”likely written by Clara herselfโ€”reported that she was living at Hull House to familiarize herself with the problems of immigrants living in โ€œcrowdedโ€ quarters. Rather than describing her students as Catholic or Jewish, Clara identified them by their various nationalities: โ€œItalian, Greek, Russian, Roumanian, Polish, Armenian, and German.โ€[17] She explained that they wanted to learn English not only to get good jobs, but also to โ€œstudy subjects more or less remote from their daily work for much the same reasons that induce people of more fortunate neighborhoods to study Browning, Shakespeare, Ibsen, or Bernard Shaw.โ€[18] During her early years at Hull House, Clara introduced her studentsโ€”primarily Eastern European Jewsโ€”to some of the classic works of English literature.[19] According to Jane Addams, Clara possessed โ€œan unusual powerโ€ as a knowledgeable teacher with an unassuming, quiet presence.[20] In addition, Landsberg had โ€œmany friends among the poor people of the neighborhood who are devotedly attached to her.โ€[21] Two of those friends were Hilda Satt and Morris Levinson.

Hilda Sattโ€™s life was transformed through her long association with the settlement and its residents. Hilda, who had first visited Hull House as a young teenager in 1895, later became a member of one of Clara Landsbergโ€™s reading groups. Certain her mother would disapprove, Hilda had initially declined an Irish friendโ€™s invitation to attend that yearโ€™s Hull House Christmas party. In her posthumously published autobiography, Hilda recalled her fear that she would be killed if she attended, because in Poland it had been dangerous for Jewish children to play outside on Christmas. She later wrote, โ€œThere were children and parents โ€ฆ from Russia, Poland, Italy, Germany, Ireland, England, and many other lands, but no one seemed to care where they had come from, or what religion they professed โ€ฆ I became a staunch American at this party.โ€[22]

A vintage sepia photo of Clara Landsberg in a graduation gown and cap, standing and looking slightly to her right. Handwritten text at the bottom reads Clara Landsberg, 97.In one of the first reading groups Clara conducted at Hull House, she ignited a love of English literature in Hilda, who spoke Yiddish at home and had left school after fifth grade to work days sewing shirt cuffs. In addition to the books Clara assigned, Hilda was soon reading โ€œevery book I could borrow.โ€[23] Only a few years earlier, Hildaโ€™s English vocabulary had been so limited that she did not yet know the word โ€œmushroom.โ€ During a meal at Hull House, she had been served a mushroom omelet, of which she would later recall, โ€œI was tortured with the question of whether the mushrooms were kosher.โ€[24] Soon, however, Hilda counted authors like Dickens and Louisa May Alcott among her friends. Months after meeting Hilda, Clara presented her with a Christmas gift of a copy of Elizabeth Barrett Browningโ€™s Sonnets from the Portuguese. Hilda would later recall this as her fondest memory of โ€œMiss Landsberg, โ€ฆ a fragile, ethereal, gentle woman โ€ฆ [who] opened new vistas in reading for me.โ€[25] With Clara Landsbergโ€™s help, Hilda Satt became an exemplar of the path to Americanization and upward mobility that the settlement aimed to encourage.[26]

Another of Claraโ€™s students, Morris Levinson, was, like many immigrants, eager to learn English and become an American citizen in the cultural as well as the political sense of the word. With Clara Landsberg as his mentor, he aspired to learn much more than basic skills of vocabulary, grammar, and usage.[27] Landsberg saved two letters that he wrote to her in 1905, while she was home in Rochester convalescing after a serious illness. In broken English, Morris expressed his concern that โ€œMiss Landsbergโ€ was โ€œtoo sweet, and delicate, to be confind to bed of illness [sic],โ€ reassured her that Ellen Gates Starr had taken him on as a pupil, and told her that he was studying a book she had given him to read: The Boys of 76, a collection of first-hand accounts of soldiers in the American Revolution:

I bolive I should have to know the history of this Country โ€ฆ I have resolved to read it over agan, so that I will remember everything better โ€ฆ Miss Landsberg, I bolive this history will make me a throught citesin.[28]

Morris also confided in Clara. He planned not to live solely seeking fun, โ€œas a great many of people do,โ€ but rather to โ€œtry to egicat [him]self as much as posebleโ€ in order to โ€œsee the mining of this beautiful world and of the real uman life.โ€[29] Clara was not only a teacher but a role model for Morris Levinson: someone he admired and to whom he felt a deep sense of gratitude.

Although Hilda, Morris, and Clara had all been raised in Jewish homes, their similarities ended there. Claraโ€™s highly educated, German-born parents spoke fluent English and shunned Yiddish. Like other Reform rabbis, Rabbi Landsberg jettisoned โ€œsuperstitious forms and antiquated dogmas,โ€ eliminating rituals he considered outmoded, such as Bar Mitzvah.[30] He endorsed the principles adopted by the Reform movement in its Pittsburgh Platform of 1885, but, like Rabbi Emil G. Hirsch of Chicagoโ€™s Sinai Congregation, he saw them as only the beginning rather than the end. In 1893, Rabbi Landsberg spoke in Chicago at the World Parliament of Religions, endorsing an expanded role for Jewish women in congregational life.[31]

Claraโ€™s approach to Judaism was virtually the antithesis of that of many of the Jewish immigrants at Hull House. Her father decried Orthodoxy as well as Jewish nationalism. The Jewish immigrantsโ€”familiar and comfortable only with Orthodox Judaismโ€”rejected Reform Judaism. Even those atheists, anarchists, and socialists who spurned all religion felt a connection to Yiddishkeit and Jewish peoplehood,ย concepts rejected by theย Landsbergs and most Reform Jews. Did these immigrant Jews nonetheless recognize Clara Landsberg as ethnically Jewish, or did they see her as one of many Protestant residents of Hull House? Might they have accepted her precisely because they had no idea she was Jewish?

Addams and her cohort respected religious differences and tried hard to make Hull House welcoming to all.[32] Yet Jane Addams was motivated by her Protestant faithโ€”especially by the literature and culture of social Christianity, which she described as a โ€œrenaissance of the early Christian humanitarianism โ€ฆ with a bent to express in social service and in terms of action the spirit of Christ.โ€[33] Addams has been criticized for failing to grasp that for many Eastern European Jewish immigrants, Judaism was far more than a religion. On the other hand, features of Hull House that Orthodox Jews would have found off-puttingโ€”the Chi-Rho cross Addams always wore, the Christian artwork on display, the lack of kosher foodโ€”would not have offended the most liberal Reform Jews such as Clara Landsberg or her mother, Miriam Landsberg.[34]

Portrait of a middle-aged woman with glasses, short curly hair, and a serious expression, wearing a dark dress with a lace collar and beaded embellishments. The photo appears historical and formal.Miriam Landsberg, Hannah G. Solomon, and other German Jews mirrored mainstream Americaโ€™s adulation of Addams. One of these Jewish admirers, Sara Hart, called Addams โ€œthe single, most influential citizen of my generation.โ€[35] Miriam Landsberg visited Hull House frequently and helped spearhead efforts among affluent Jews to establish a settlement in Rochester. In 1905, after spending several weeks at Hull House, she wrote: โ€œI do not wonder that any one who has ever lived at Hull House cannot bear to go back to ordinary life.โ€ She described the 21 residents (including her daughter Clara) as a โ€œfamilyโ€ composed of โ€œpeople of the finest mindsโ€ and life at Hull House as โ€œsimple, practical, โ€ฆ ideal.โ€[36]

Settlement work was popular among graduates of Bryn Mawr and similar colleges. Even so, it was not Claraโ€™s first career choice. She and Margaret had wanted to teach at the Bryn Mawr School in Baltimore, but two of the schoolโ€™s most influential trustees, Mary Garrett and M. Carey Thomas (then president of Bryn Mawr College), refused to hire her because she was Jewish.[37] In 1899, Edith Hamilton (then headmistress of the Bryn Mawr School) wrote to M. Carey Thomas to apprise her of Claraโ€™s conversion:

My sister has just written me that Miss Landsberg is about to become a member of the Episcopal church, and I have wondered whether this would make a difference in your and Miss Thomasโ€™ opinion that we could not offer her a position because she is a Jewess.[38]

Clara Landsbergโ€™s conversion made โ€œnot the least difference,โ€ either to Mary Garrett or to M. Carey Thomas, as Garrett explained in her response to Edith Hamilton:

Our objection is one of policy and very few Jews employed in schools or colleges are Jews by religion; it never had occurred to us that Miss Landsberg was really an orthodox Jew. We are wholly unwilling to connect with the school in any capacity a Jew by race, and in view of our feeling of the financial unwisdom of such a step we think that Jews ought to be ruled out of court for the future in consideration of possible appointments.[39]

Yet Clara persisted. In 1900, M. Carey Thomas wrote to Mary Garrett saying, โ€œThe Jews enrage me. Is nothing in the world settled? Have Miss Landsberg & the Jews to come up perpetually. It is awfully bad policy.โ€[40]

Clara remained at Hull House until 1920, when a Quaker organization sponsored her to travel to Vienna to perform postwar humanitarian relief work. Two letters of recommendation finally qualified her as a WASP and (therefore) fit to represent the U.S. abroad. Jane Addams provided a ringing endorsement, and Mary T. L. Gannett was careful to specify: โ€œAs a matter of information, Miss Landsberg, during her college course joined the Episcopal Church โ€“ and as far as I know is still a loyal member of that Communion.โ€[41]

When Addams and her partner, Mary Rozet Smith, learned that Clara Landsberg had been accepted to the Quaker program, they both wrote letters of congratulation and farewell. Addams wrote, โ€œI canโ€™t bear to think of H.H. [Hull-House] next winter without either Alice [Hamilton] or yourself.โ€[42] Mary Rozet Smith wrote: โ€œโ€ฆ no words will express โ€ฆ [our] sense of desolation โ€ฆ when we think of the year without you. โ€ฆ J.A. and I have decided that it is like losing a mother and a child at once. โ€ฆ With Alice in Boston and you in Vienna what will Hull-House be! It is too depressing to face.โ€[43]

Did Max and Miriam Landsberg know that their daughter was no longer Jewish? In the 1899 letter announcing Clara Landsbergโ€™s conversion, Edith Hamilton had written, โ€œUnder the circumstances her family would prefer her not to be at home.โ€[44] Yet there is no proof that Claraโ€™s parents did learn of her conversion. To all appearances, she maintained a positive relationship with her mother and father throughout their lives. In his final instructions to his children, Max Landsberg wrote, โ€œ[M]y life has been one of uniform happiness. The only serious trouble in my whole life has been the loss of my dear wife, your good mother.โ€[45]

As tolerant as Miriam was toward other beliefs, however, it is likely she would have cared deeply that Clara had left Judaism. At a national conference, as chair of the National Council of Jewish Womenโ€™s Committee on Religion, she worried that many German Jews were โ€œgiven over entirely to materialism and indifference to all Jewish affairs.โ€ She warned Jewish mothers that children raised without religion could โ€œfall prey to โ€ฆ pious sharks โ€ฆ eager for souls.โ€[46] A few years later, she implored mothers to transmit a love of Judaism to their children โ€œto preserve to our posterity that Judaism which gave Religion to the world.โ€[47] Despite Miriamโ€™s fears, it is doubtful her daughter would have fallen prey to โ€œpious sharks.โ€ Rather, through exposure to Christianity at school and through her closest friends and role models, Clara rejected the most modern version of Judaism, one carefully crafted by her own parents, in favor of the Episcopal Church, which her father had criticized for what he saw as its strict adherence to ritual and creed.[48]

Part Two of this article will discuss Clara Landsbergโ€™s becoming godmother to Jane Addamsโ€™ grandniece, Claraโ€™s travels with Addams, and Claraโ€™s own work as a pacifist, which was deeply informed by her connection with Addams. It will also document her retaining ties to her birth family, even as she joined the Hamilton family as well. And it will describe Landsbergโ€™s trip to Germany with Alice Hamilton just after Hitler had come to power. In a letter to herself documenting the onset of the Holocaust, Landsberg would write, โ€œI am a Jewess.โ€

Our thanks to Cynthia Francis Gensheimer and the Chicago Jewish History for allowing us to share this article with you.


[1] Even one of Clara Landsbergโ€™s fellow residents, Francis Hackett, seemingly forgot her surname: โ€œMiss Clara, of Bryn Mawr vintage, valiant, tense, souffrante, at once impatient and remorseful, indefatigable and worn-out.โ€ Francis Hackett, โ€œHull-House: A Souvenir,โ€ 100 Years at Hull-House, eds. Mary Lynn McCree Bryan and Allen F. Davis (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1969), 69.

[2] Max Landsberg, born in Berlin in 1845, was a rabbiโ€™s son and a protรฉgรฉ of Abraham Geiger. American Jewish Year Book 1903โ€“1904, 72; http://www.ajcarchives.org/AJC_DATA/Files/1903_1904_3_SpecialArticles.pdf. When Miriam Landsberg, who was born in Hanover in 1847, died, the American Israelite called her death a โ€œloss to American Jewry.โ€ American Israelite, April 25, 1912. Peter Eisenstadt, Affirming the Covenant: A History of Temple Bโ€™rith Kodesh, Rochester, New York, 1848โ€“1998 (Rochester: Temple Bโ€™rith Kodesh, 1999), ch. 2 and 3; Stuart E. Rosenberg, The Jewish Community in Rochester, 1843โ€“1925 (New York: Columbia University Press, 1954). At a 1910 meeting of the National Conference of Jewish Charities, during Miriam Landsbergโ€™s term as vice-president, Jane Addams gave the opening address, and Rabbi Landsberg served as delegate representing the Jewish Orphan Asylum of Western New York, which he had co-founded and led for decades. Sixth Biennial Session of the National Conference of Jewish Charities in the United States Held in the City of St. Louis, May 17th to 19th, 1910 (Baltimore: Kohn & Pollock, 1910). American Israelite, February 5, 1914, 3. Rabbi Landsberg was elected president of the New York State Conference on Charities and Correction in 1910, when Miriam Landsberg was the outgoing vice-president. โ€œConference of Charities Holds Three Busy Sessions,โ€ Democrat and Chronicle, November 17, 1910, 17.

[3] As chair of the Committee on Religion of the National Council of Jewish Women, Miriam Landsberg worked closely with Hannah G. Solomon, the organizationโ€™s founder. Susan B. Anthony wrote to Miriam Landsberg giving instructions for a meeting of the National Council of Women in Washington, D.C. and letting her know that Hannah G. Solomon and Sadie American had already arrived. Susan B. Anthony to Miriam Landsberg, February 12, 1899, University of Rochester Archives. After Hannah G. Solomonโ€™s daughter, Helen, visited the Landsbergs in 1902, Rabbi Landsberg wrote to Hannah telling her what a โ€œgreat treatโ€ it had been to have her visit: โ€œHelen reminds me so much of you, although she looks more like the best husband on earth.โ€ He signed the letter, โ€œWith love for your husband and all the sisters within your reach.โ€ Max Landsberg to Hannah G. Solomon, April 2, 1902. Helen Solomon Wellesley Correspondence, Hannah G. Solomon Family Collection, MC 749, American Jewish Archives. For the working relationship among Rabbi Hirsch, Hannah G. Solomon, and Jane Addams, see Rina Lunin Schultz, โ€œStriving for Fellowship: Sinaiโ€™s Rabbi Emil G. Hirsch and Hull-Houseโ€™s Jane Addams, A Not-So-Odd Couple,โ€ unpublished manuscript, February 24, 2015.

[4] Ida Husted Harper, The Life and Work of Susan B. Anthony (Indianapolis: Bowen-Merrill, 1898), 2:730. In 1891, Susan B. Anthony, Rabbi Landsberg, and Rev. William C. Gannett spoke at the annual Thanksgiving service. โ€œThe Benefits of Unrest,โ€ Democrat and Chronicle, November 27, 1891, 6.

[5] โ€œRochester, N.Y.,โ€ American Israelite, June 20, 1889, 2.

[6] For background on Bryn Mawr College, see Helen Lefkowitz Horowitz, Alma Mater: Design and Experience in the Womenโ€™s Colleges from Their Nineteenth-Century Beginnings to the 1930s (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1984) and Horowitz, The Power and Passion of M. Carey Thomas (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1994).

[7] For a significant biographical work on the nature of Clara Landsbergโ€™s relationship with Margaret Hamilton, as well as Edithโ€™s connection to Bryn Mawr College and the Bryn Mawr School, see Judith P. Hallett, โ€œEdith Hamilton,โ€ The Classical World ย 90, nos. 2/3, Six Women Classicists (November 1996โ€“February 1997): 107โ€“147.

[8] Bryn Mawr College Program 1892 (Philadelphia: Sherman & Co., 1892), 77.

[9] Clara Landsbergโ€™s student transcript, Bryn Mawr College Archives. Religious affiliations researched by the author.

[10] Clara Landsbergโ€™s alumna record, Bryn Mawr College Archives. Sandra L. Singer,ย Adventures Abroad: North American Women at German-speaking Universities, 1868โ€“1915 (Westport, Connecticut: Praeger Publishers, 2003), 75, 212.

[11] Presumably by the time that Clara Landsberg moved to Hull-House, she had become a member of the Episcopal church, but evidence surrounding the conversion is scanty, and that surrounding the exact dates of Clara Landsbergโ€™s tenure at Hull-House is contradictory. For Alice Hamiltonโ€™s experience at Hull-House, see Alice Hamilton, Exploring the Dangerous Trades (Fairfax, Virginia: American Industrial Hygiene Association, 1995), ch. 4 and 5; Barbara Sicherman, Alice Hamilton: A Life in Letters (Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press, 1984), 3โ€“4, 5, 115โ€“136, 139โ€“141, 144โ€“152, 182, 244. Both Hamiltonโ€™s and Sichermanโ€™s books are valuable resources that contain references to Clara Landsberg throughout.

[12] Hannah G. Solomon, introducing Jane Addams as a speaker at a national convention of the National Council of Jewish Women. โ€œGeneral Council of Hebrew Women Meets,โ€ The Washington Times, December 3, 1902, 2.

[13] Philip Davis, โ€œEducational Influences,โ€ in The Russian Jew in the United States, ed. Charles S. Bernheimer (Philadelphia, Pennsylvania: The John C. Winston Co., 1905), 217.

[14] Hull-House was not the only center serving immigrant Jews in its neighborhood. German Jews in Chicago organized their own institutions, and in fact Jane Addams mediated between the German and eastern European Jews when the Jewish-run Maxwell Street settlement was established a few blocks from Hull-House. The first organizational meeting, held at Hull-House in 1892, nearly disbanded due to the terrible arguing between the immigrants and the German Jews who convened the meeting. In an essay titled โ€œA Resented Philanthropy,โ€ one of the immigrants at the meeting later credited Addams with reestablishing civility. He said, โ€œThe โ€˜cultureโ€™ which was to emanate from the settlement and permeate all corners of the Ghetto was conspicuously absent from the heated discussion of the โ€˜enlightenedโ€™ benefactors.โ€ In 1907, 150 people visited Hull-House weekly to lecture, teach, or supervise clubs. For Hull-Houseโ€™s purpose, the names of its residents, and its weekly attendance, see Hull-House Year Book 1907, 5โ€“6 (Archive.org, https://archive.org/details/hullhouseyearboo1906hull/page/38/mode/2up?q=jewish).

[15] Claraโ€™s work evolved over time. She worked full-time at Hull-House for one year, but, finding that too difficult, she eventually taught at the University School for Girls (Miss Haireโ€™s). Alice Hamilton to Agnes Hamilton, [mid-June? 1902], in Sicherman, Alice Hamilton, 142โ€“143. Clara Landsbergโ€™s alumna record, Bryn Mawr College.

[16] Jane Addams, Twenty Years at Hull-House (New York: Macmillan, 1912), 437 (A Celebration of Women Writers, ed. Mary Mark Ockerbloom, https://digital.library.upenn.edu/women/addams/hullhouse/hullhouse.html).

[17] Italians came to predominate during Claraโ€™s second decade. In 1902, the Chicago Tribune reported on a โ€œHebrew invasionโ€ in the โ€œcrowded west side districtโ€: โ€œAs soon as a Jewish family gets a foothold in a tenement other occupants vacate.โ€ โ€œRaces Shift Like Sand,โ€ย Chicago Tribune,ย September 26,ย 1902, 13.

[18] Bryn Mawr Alumnรฆ Quarterly Vol. 1โ€“2 1907โ€“1909 (Bryn Mawr, PA: Bryn Mawr Alumnรฆ Association, 1907โ€“1909) (https://core.ac.uk/download/pdf/214021114.pdf).

[19] Francis Hackett wrote in his memoir: โ€œRussian Jews and Jewesses came in great numbers to the classes at Hull House, and had special leanings toward literatureโ€ (72). Some English classes were composed entirely of Jews. Philip Davis, โ€œIntellectual Influences,โ€ in The Russian Jew in the United States, ed. Charles S. Bernheimer (Philadelphia, Pennsylvania: The John C. Winston Co., 1905), 217.

[20] Jane Addams to Anita McCormick Blaine, June 29, 1901, Anita McCormick Blaine Correspondence and Papers, 1828โ€“1958, Wisconsin Historical Society (Jane Addams Papers Project, https://digital.janeaddams.ramapo.edu/items/show/1015).

[21] Jane Addams, American Friendsโ€™ Service Committee (AFSC) letter of recommendation for Clara Landsberg, May 1, 1920. AFSC Archives.

[22] Hilda Satt Polacheck, I Came a Stranger: The Story of a Hull-House Girl (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1991), 51โ€“52, 66.

[23] Polacheck, I Came a Stranger, 66.

[24] Polacheck, I Came a Stranger, 66.

[25] Polacheck, I Came a Stranger, 66โ€“67.

[26] In 1905, Hilda Satt took over supervision of the evening classes in Claraโ€™s absence. In 1906โ€“07, she taught beginnersโ€™ English at Hull-House. Jane Addams to Clara Landsberg, July 4, 1905, Clara Landsberg Papers, University of Illinois at Chicago Library (Jane Addams Papers Project, https://digital.janeaddams.ramapo.edu/items/show/840); Hull-House Year Book 1906โ€“1907, 8.

[27] Addams noted the frequency with which young Jewish men who had patronized Hull-House also graduated from high school with help from their parents and then managed on their own to go on to college. Twenty Years at Hull-House, 346.

[28] Morris Levinson to Clara Landsberg, May 26, 1905, Additional Papers of the Hamilton Family, 1850โ€“1994, box 13, 83-M175-94-M77, Schlesinger Library. Levinsonโ€™s letters are quoted as written, without corrections as to spelling, grammar, or usage.

[29] Morris Levinson to Clara Landsberg, n/d, Additional Papers of the Hamilton Family, 1850โ€“1994, box 13, 83-M175-94-M77, Schlesinger Library.

[30] โ€œDr. Landsbergโ€™s Closing Lecture,โ€ Jewish Tidings, March 30, 1888, 19.

[31] Max Landsberg, โ€œThe Position of Woman Among the Jews,โ€ World Parliament of Religions, Chicago, Illinois, 1893 (GoogleBooks, https://books.google.com/books?id=q2U-AAAAYAAJ&pg=PA241&dq=%22max+landsberg%22+%22The+Position+of+Woman+among+the+Jews%22&hl=en&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwi-3aifgMLPAhUk_4MKHRbLCOIQ6AEIIDAA#v=onepage&q=%22max%20landsberg%22%20%22The%20Position%20of%20Woman%20among%20the%20Jews%22&f=false). When virtually no other rabbi in America would perform an interfaith marriage, both Hirsch and Landsberg did so. Rosenberg, The Jewish Community in Rochester, 93โ€“94. Tobias Brinkmann, Sundays at Sinai (Chicago, Illinois: University of Chicago Press, 2012), 136.

[32] In Twenty Years at Hull-House, Addams explained that over time, she and the other residents abandoned Protestant evening prayer, and their demographic composition at least in part reflected the make-up of the neighborhood, including Catholics and Jews, โ€œdissenters and a few agnostics.โ€ Addams, Twenty Years at Hull-House, 448โ€“449. Rivka Shpak Lissak has claimed that although many traditional Jews avoided Hull-House, it โ€œhad a closer relationship with the marginal Jewish elements, the assimilationists and the radicals.โ€ Lissak, Pluralism and Progressives: Hull House and the New Immigrants, 1890โ€“1919 (Chicago, Illinois: University of Chicago Press, 1989), 80.

[33] Rima Lunin Schultz wrote: โ€œFor Addams, who affixed a Chi-Rho Cross to her bodice, her work at Hull-House was religious; yet by establishing her settlement as an independent association without ties to any religious organization, university, or other agency, and by not requiring religious worship or religious education, she set out to spread a Christian humanism that she envisioned as cosmopolitan and democratic, inclusive and tolerant. Did this mean that she resolved to exclude religious ideas from Hull-House? I would argue that this has been an area of misunderstanding about Addamsโ€™s intentions.โ€ Rina Lunin Schultz, โ€œJane Addams, Apotheosis of Social Christianity,โ€ Church History 84, no. 1 (March 2015): 207.

[34] Many eastern European Jewish immigrants were strongly attached to Jewish culture and Zionism, even as they lost their connection to Jewish worship. Jane Addams wanted children of immigrants to respect their parents, yet she also saw that many old customs and religious traditions made no sense to the younger generation and in some cases held them back. Addams, Twenty Years at Hull-House, 247โ€“248; Rivka Shpak Lissak, Pluralism and Progressives, 80โ€“94. In contrast, on a family trip to Germany when Clara was ten years old, the Landsbergs had appreciated the aesthetic value of medieval Christian architecture such as the Hildesheim cathedral. Clara Landsberg, โ€œLeaves from my Diary,โ€ 1887, 1โ€“4, Additional Papers of the Hamilton Family, 1850โ€“1994, 83-M175-94-M77, box 13, folder 81, Schlesinger Library.

[35] Sara Hart wrote of Jane Addams, โ€œIt was my pleasure to know her intimately for more than thirty years.โ€ Sara L. Hart, The Pleasure is Mine: An Autobiography (Chicago, Illinois: Valentine-Newman, 1947), 82. Hannah G. Solomon considered Jane Addams a leader of โ€œall humanityโ€ andย  โ€œthe greatest woman of our century.โ€ Jane Addams inspired Jewish women at the NCJWโ€™s third biennial in 1902, which Solomon attended as president and Miriam Landsberg as vice-president (Hannah G. Solomon, โ€œCouncil Welfare Work Forty Years Ago and Today,โ€ 4, n/d, Hannah G. Solomon Collection, Library of Congress, box 11, folder 5).

[36] โ€œSings Praises of Hull House,โ€ Democrat and Chronicle, March 17, 1905, 10.

[37] To understand Mary Elizabeth Garrett and the early history of Bryn Mawr School, see Kathleen Waters Sander, Mary Elizabeth Garrett: Society and Philanthropy in the Gilded Age (Baltimore: Johns Hopkins Press, 2008).

[38] Edith Hamilton to Mary Garrett, April 18, 1899, Bryn Mawr College Archives, Papers of M. Carey Thomas, reel 214.

[39] I am indebted to Helen Lefkowitz Horowitz, who cites this letter and gives a good overview of M. Carey Thomasโ€™s antisemitism in M. Carey Thomas, 230โ€“32, 267, 486. Mary Garrett to Edith Hamilton, April 24, 1899, Bryn Mawr College Archives, Papers of M. Carey Thomas, reel 214.

[40] M. Carey Thomas to Mary Garrett, September 26, 1900, Bryn Mawr College Archives, Papers of M. Carey Thomas, reel 23, nos. 37โ€“39.

[41] Mary T. L. Gannett, letter of recommendation, May 4, 1920, Clara Landsbergโ€™s personnel file, AFSC Archives.

[42] Jane Addams to Clara Landsberg, August 7, 1920, Hamilton Family Collection, 84-M210, box 1, folder 7, Schlesinger Library. Alice Hamilton had just been appointed the first woman professor at Harvardโ€™s School of Medicine.

[43] Mary Rozet Smith to Clara Landsberg, August 7, 1920, Hamilton Family Collection, 84-M210, box 1, folder 7, Schlesinger Library.

[44] Edith Hamilton to Mary Garrett, April 18, 1899.

[45] Max Landsberg to his children, January 16, 1918, Max Landsberg SC 6602, American Jewish Archives.

[46] โ€œThe Councilโ€™s Report on โ€˜Religion,โ€™ โ€ The Reform Advocate, March 24, 1900, 167 (The National Library of Israel, https://www.nli.org.il/en/newspapers/?a=d&d=refadv19000324-01.1.11&e=——-en-20–1–img-txIN%7ctxTI-%22miriam+landsberg%22————-1).

[47] Miriam Landsberg, โ€œReport of Committee on Religion,โ€ The Reform Advocate, January 3, 1903, 452 (The National Library of Israel, https://www.nli.org.il/en/newspapers/refadv/1903/01/03/01/article/29/?srpos=12&e=——190-en-20–1–img-txIN%7ctxTI-landsberg+committee+on+religion————-1).

[48] Max Landsberg criticized Episcopalians for requiring members to โ€œbelieve in the forty-nine articles of faithโ€ and Presbyterians for the Westminster catechism. โ€œWhat is Judaism?โ€ Democrat and Chronicle, November 22, 1899, 11. The Hamilton sisters, whose family Clara Landsberg joined, had been reared in the Presbyterian congregation founded by their grandfather, but, as children, they preferred the small Episcopal church on Mackinac Island, where they spent their summers. For a thorough discussion of the Hamilton sistersโ€™ religious upbringing, see The Education of Alice Hamilton, eds. Matthew C. Ringenberg, William C. Ringenberg, and Joseph D. Brain (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2019), esp. 13โ€“14, 23โ€“24. For a discussion of religion among the residents of Hull-House, see Eleanor J. Stebner, The Women of Hull House: A Study in Spirituality, Vocation, and Friendship (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1997).

 

ย 

Excavating the History of Women and the Peace Movement

A grid of nine black-and-white portraits of women, some formal and some casual, with a few containing handwritten names above or beside the images.

The peace movement dominates Jane Addams’s work from 1914 until her death in 1935. Working through the Woman’s Peace Party, the International Committee of Women for Permanent Peace, and the Women’s International League for Peace and Freedom, Addams worked with her counterparts in many nations in a global movement to bring about peace, social justice, and equality.ย  She also served as the de facto leader of the American women’s peace movement.

Our detailed focus on the content of the documents and our efforts to identify the people mentioned in them yields a different kind of history than one that only focuses on the leaders of movements.ย  As we have begun publishing WILPF documents from both the United States and abroad, we are finding the names of early adherents, donors, and activists and adding them to the project’s database.

We know about Emily Greene Balch, Crystal Eastman, and Lucy Biddle Lewis, who were Addams’s coworkers for peace in the United States. But what about the rank and file? The women whose dollar donations funded the work of the WILPF? It turns out that within Jane Addams’s correspondence, we can learn about them too.

Typed list titled Membership Oil, detailing names, addresses, and amounts paid in National and International dues from March 12-25, 1920. Totals are calculated at the bottom of the typewritten page.

Eleanor Daggett Karsten, the secretary of the Woman’s Peace Party and then the United States Section of the WILPF, updated Addams every few weeks in 1920 with information about the women joining the new league, founded in 1919 at the International Congress of Women. As a document to add to our edition, I have to admit that each time I saw one of these multi-page columnar lists, I sighed, knowing that this one document might take a week or more to completely enter into our system due to the number of names. Thankfully, most of these lists contained street addresses, which made it easier (though not always easy!) to identify the women.

It didn’t take long to realize that instead of drudgery, adding the names of the early members of the WILPF was historical excavation of the best kind. Our biographical work is carried out in two steps. First the student or editor who enters the document into our system tries to link the name on the document to an existing name in our database. We use an Omeka-based system and a plug-in called Item Relations, to search the more than 12,0000 names in the system. When the person is not there, we add them. In this stage, the goal is to simply identify the person so that we are sure they are not duplicated and that we have verified their basic information.

We strive to add birth and death dates, full names, and a short biography, which we don’t publish until the second stage, when a student researcher does more in-depth work and drafts a full biography. Our goal is to then create relationships between the people in the edition and the organizations and events they participated in. This social network of Addams’s world being built slowly document by document, is one of the results of the project that we are most excited about. It will take time to build the data up, but it is time well spent.

For women, that means that “Mrs. Jerome H. Frank on 168 Hamptondale Road in Hubbard Woods, Illinois,” becomes “Florence Kiper Frank (1887?-?)” A draft biography, that isn’t publicly available yet notes that she was a member of the United States Section of the WILPF and was married to lawyer Jerome H. Franks and had a daughter named Barbara. Much of this comes from census records (having a street address on these lists is an enormous help),ย  local newspapers, and other web-based resources to get accurate information.ย  We create a bibliography pointing to the sources used so that others can follow our trail.

It is extremely exciting to find a photograph of the women, often in the U.S. Passport Applications that we access via Ancestry.com. Though the images are not of the best quality, hopefully we can add scanned originals at some point in the future.ย  We have also found that having even these short biographical stubs accessible on the web means that family members can find the project and see the associations that their ancestors had with Addams and peace. We have already received some photographs and biographical information from family members and hope that this will increase as we add more names.

Some of the more challenging research revolves around women who worked for peace outside the United States. There are many complicating factorsโ€”misspelled or partial names, the lack of genealogical resources for most non-English speaking countries, lack of language skills among our staff to read and search foreign-language resources (Google Translate only helps so much!), and often a lack of detailed geographicalย  information about where they lived.ย  Many of these peace activists are hard to trace through World War II, as records of pacifists and peace organizations often did not survive the war.

But adding them, even with partial names and limited dates, accomplishes something. As we enter more documents and move into the 1920s and 1930s, we uncover the names of those who participated in the Women’s International League for Peace and Freedom, and in time we will learn more about their lives as well.

A Japanese Visitor at Hull-House

Black and white portrait of a man with short hair and a mustache, wearing a dark suit, white shirt, and tie, facing forward against a plain background.

Every Sunday evening during the winter months, visitors jockeyed for seats in the Hull-House Auditorium. They came for the weekly Hull-House lecture at 8 p.m. They came to hear from diverse speakers, who shared knowledge and enthusiasm for a wide range of topics and used the stereopticon (an early projector) to illustrate their thoughts and ideas.

The Hull-House settlementโ€™s winter lecture series was wildly popular, and every week many people were turned away after the auditorium filled all of its 750 seats. The lecture series was an important part of the settlementโ€™s mission. The lectures were intended to educate, to inspire, to encourage appreciation for the arts, science, and culture, and to foster respect for new people and new ideas. The lectures were free, and working people from the Hull-House neighborhood, predominately men, made up a good share of the audience.

Black and white architectural drawing of the Auditorium and Coffee House at Hull House, Chicago, by Pond & Pond Architects. The building has arched windows and decorative rooflines. Two people walk on the sidewalk in front.
Hull-House Coffee House and Theatre Building, constructed in 1899. The Auditorium was located on the second floor.

On Sunday, Nov. 29, 1903, the speaker was Toyokichi Iyenaga and his topic was โ€œBeautiful Japan.โ€ Iyenaga was a lecturer in political science at the University of Chicago and was an expert on Japanese diplomacy.

Professor Iyenaga was born in Japan in 1862 and came to the United States to study at Oberlin College, where he won a prestigious oratorical contest and earned his Black and white portrait of a man with short hair and a mustache, wearing a dark suit, white shirt, and tie, facing forward against a plain background.degree in 1887. After he completed his Ph.D. at Johns Hopkins University in 1890, he settled in Chicago, where he was a lecturer at the University of Chicago for nineteen years. Iyenaga distinguished himself as an orator and was a prolific, compelling, and sometimes controversial speaker. At a public lecture in Chicago in July 1903, Iyenaga raised eyebrows by arguing that American women could learn from the women of Japan, in matter of their attire, because Japanese women did not waste their time on fashion and did not, like their American counterparts, endure โ€œthe torture of high-heeled shoes or shock the sensibilities of right-minded people by wearing dead birds on her hats.โ€

Black-and-white newspaper photo of Toyokichi Iyenaga, Ph.D., with a mustache, wearing a suit and tie. The caption mentions his upcoming lecture on Japan of Today at the Twentieth Century Club.
News coverage of his visit

Iyenaga was a colorful speaker. He was also, for most people, a curiosity. In 1903, there was only a small number of Japanese people living in the United States, and most of them were settled in the Pacific Northwest. American immigration policyโ€”like the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882 that barred the immigration of Chinese laborers and later the 1907 Gentlemanโ€™s Agreement between Japan and the U.S. to restrict Japanese immigrationโ€”reflected prevailing racist sentiments in America against Asian peoples. As well, racist imagery of โ€œYellow Perilโ€ exacerbated irrational fears that people from the East represented an existential danger to people in the West. Thus, the Japanese community in Chicago was small and remained small, growing only to about 300 in the city by the 1920s.

One of the quintessential characteristics of Jane Addamsโ€™s philosophy as a human being and as a reformer was the importance of intercultural exchange, of face-to-face interaction between people of widely diverse backgrounds, of different races and cultures, religious affiliation, and economic or social class. Critical to that philosophy in the organization and management of Hull-House was providing a forum for all people and all viewpoints. Over the years, Hull-House hosted anarchists, socialists, feminists, labor organizers, and many other people with sometimes controversial ideas and radical rhetoric. Speakers like the Russian anarchist Prince Kropotkin and the African-American leaders W. E. B. Du Bois and Ida B. Wells, who were not welcome in many venues in the segregated United States, were welcome at Hull-House.

Hull-House provided child care, pure milk, economic resources, and educational opportunities. It was a laboratory for social, political, and economic reform. It launched the careers of dozens of progressive reformers. It sheltered people and fed them. It helped poor people navigate charitable, educational, and municipal bureaucracies. It offered spaces for immigrants to celebrate their cultural traditions and to learn ways to embrace their new Americanness, too. But Hull-House also offered a venue for ideas to freely flow, and for diverse voices to speak, to be heard,ย  and to be respected. It was not so much brave as it was a simple imperative, a nonnegotiable truth in the world view of Jane Addams.

And so, there was Dr. Iyenaga at Hull-House on a winter night in 1903. Not a curiosity or a โ€œJap,โ€ as a majority of Americans would have described him. Rather, an educated man and a talented orator with an interesting perspective to offer an audience of a mostly poor, immigrant quarter of Chicago.

The more I study Jane Addams and the activities of Hull-House, the more I appreciate the wide and beautiful network of people she cultivated and the open arms of the settlement she led. In the narrative of Hull-House, there was a never ending flow of people with breathtaking stories to tell us about the American past. Toyokichi Iyenaga is one of those stories. He is another person on my growing list of people who came into the Hull-House orbit who are worthy of at least a small spotlight of his own.

After that first Sunday lecture, Professor Iyenaga returned to Hull-House for additional lectures. He attended a teacherโ€™s workshop in Iowa with Jane Addams in 1906, and he worked with her in the peace movement. In 1917, he and Addams attended a peace conference in New York, where he urged the United States to allow Japanese admission to citizenship and argued that โ€œhundredsโ€ of Japanese men in America wanted to enlist to fight Germany but were prevented from doing so. In 1921, he helped fund the attendance of Matsuyo Takaziwaa, a young Japanese woman and Wellesley College student, at the Third International Congress of Women in Vienna, at which Jane Addams presided as president.

Sometime in the 1910s, Toyokichi Iyenaga traded the University of Chicago for Columbia University and moved his wife Yui and son Katsunosuke โ€œKennethโ€ to New York. He continued his work as a professor with growing expertise in U.S.-Japanese relations and remained a popular public lecturer. He also published several books, his most prominent Japan and the California Problem, published in 1921. From the limited historical record of his life, Iyenagaโ€™s immigrant story was a successful one. He prospered, won respect as a scholar, and raised his son, who became a small businessman. In 1922, the elder Iyenagas retired to Oneida County, New York, where they were prominent citizens and active in charitable causes. In 1936, Professor Iyenaga was ice fishing on Oneida Lake, fell through the ice, and drowned. He was seventy-four years old, and he left behind a wife, son, daughter-in-law, two young grandsons, and an impressive list of publications.

But that was not the end of his immigrant story. And, sadly, the end of that story was an ugly one, reflecting the depth of racism in the United States, and the sad truth that in some ways not much had changed since Toyokichi Iyenaga was a young professor in Chicago.

On Dec. 23, 1942, a drunk white man announced to his friends in a bar in Sylvan Beach, NY, that he could โ€œget a couple of Japs. Iโ€™m not just talking either.โ€ย  With his .32 caliber automatic revolver, he walked a mile to the home of Kenneth Iyenaga, the late Professor Iyenagaโ€™s 47-year-old son. The Iyenaga family, five of just 460 Japanese-Americans who lived in upstate New York in 1942, lived in a 1920s house, built from a Sears Roebuck construction kit. There was a photograph of Gen. Douglas McArthur in a front window and a portrait of George Washington hanging in the parlor. The Iyenagas were patriotic Americans. Kenneth purchased war bonds and donated an old car in a local drive for scrap metal. His wife Kei, a Japanese immigrant who graduated from Barnard College, volunteered for the American Red Cross.

The shooter who had come to murder the Iyenagas was Joe Oโ€™Toole, a 64-year-old former bartender. He came in the kitchen door with his gun and started shooting. He first hit Kei in the neck, he shot the 77-year-old widow of Professor Iyenaga in the thigh, abdomen, and shoulder, and then he shot Kenneth once in the chest. Fortunately, the Iyenagaโ€™s elder son Yone escaped when the shooting started, and their younger son Kenneth Jr. was not at home at the time.

Kei and Yui survived their injuries, but Kenneth died that day on the kitchen floor. Oโ€™Toole confessed his crime. He was proud. โ€œI shot the damn Japs,โ€ he told police.

Oโ€™Toole was indicted for murder and assault, but the court excused him of responsibility. Instead, he was committed to the Matteawan State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. He escaped justice, or perhaps he was dealt the only kind of justice a white criminal justice system in America could see. In 1943. When the country was at war with people who looked like Oโ€™Tooleโ€™s victims. Oโ€™Toole was white, so he was lucky. The Iyenaga family was brown, and not so lucky. A mother lost her only son that day, a wife became a widow, and two boys no longer had a father.

The Iyenaga familyโ€™s immigration story represented the best and worst of what America offered and denied immigrants. Jane Addams appreciated the possibilities and understood the difficulties Toyokichi Iyenaga faced in Chicago in 1903ย  at the time he delivered a lecture about the beauty of his native country at Hull-House. She would have been horrified by the violence his family faced, seven years after she was buried.

During World War I, Jane Addams never wavered in her commitment to peace, paying a high price in reputation and support for Hull-House. I have often wondered if she would have set aside the peace dove when the United States stood up against Hitler in World War II. But I donโ€™t have to wonder about one thing. Based on how she maintained her respect for German people during World War I, I feel confident she would have maintained her respect for Japanese people during World War II. She understood that you could abhor a country’s militaristic behavior and not abhor thatย  country’s people.

I also feel confident that Jane Addams would have been a vocal opponent of the internment of Japanese Americans during World War II. Not only because she knew Toyokichi Iyenaga, but because she understood that democracy or peace or anything that is worth holding requires an acceptance that all people are entitled to their humanity.

by Stacy Lynn, Associate Editor

Sources: Michael D. Albert, โ€œJapanese,โ€ in Richard Sisson, Christian Zacher, and Andrew Cayton, eds., The American Midwest: An Interpretive Encyclopedia (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2007), 253-55; Masako Osako, โ€œJapanese Americans: Melting into the All-American Melting Pot,โ€ in Melvin G. Holli and Peter dโ€™A. Jones, Ethnic Chicago: A Multicultural Portrait (Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 1995), 409-37; Greg Robinson, The Great Unknown: Japanese American Sketches (Boulder: University Press of Colorado, 2016),ย  276-77; โ€œJapanese,โ€ Encyclopedia of Chicago; Report of the Third International Congress of Women (Geneva: Womenโ€™s International League for Peace and Freedom, 1921), 165; 1920 U.S. Federal Census; 1940 U.S. Federal Census; Toyokichi Iyenaga Gravestone, Verona Beach Cemetery, Verona Beach, NY; Cap and Gown (University of Chicago Year Book), (1904), 25; โ€œA Jap Carries off a Prize,โ€ Gibson City (IL) Courier, Jan. 28, 1887, p. 2; โ€œFinds Fault with American Women,โ€ The Inter Ocean (Chicago), July 25, 1903, p. 3; โ€œThe Jap, Toyokichi Iyenaga,โ€ Bureau County Tribune (Princeton, IL), Aug. 11, 1905, p. 6 (image 1 of Iyenaga); โ€œIyenaga Tells of Women in Japan,โ€ The Dispatch (Moline, IL), Feb. 22, 1906, p. 5;ย  โ€œGood Program Is Prepared,โ€ The Gazette (Cedar Rapids, IA), Oct. 5, 1906, p. 5; “Toyokichi Iyenaga, Ph.D.,”ย The Buffalo Sunday Morning News, Nov. 30, 1913, p. 37 (image 2 of Iyenaga); โ€œCharges Hibben Is in Pay of Greece,โ€ The Boston Globe, June 1, 1917, p. 10; โ€œToyokichi Iyenaga, Former Lecturer at U. of C., Drowns,โ€ Chicago Tribune, Dec. 30, 1936, p. 1; โ€œEx-Bartender Held in Killing of Jap at Rome,โ€ Press and Sun-Bulletin (Binghamton, NY), Dec. 24, 1942, p. 28; โ€œSlaying of Jap Laid to Insanity of Man Tested Here,โ€ Press and Sun-Bulletin (Binghamton, NY), Mar. 17, 1943, p. 17; โ€œTragedy That Struck the Iyenaga Family,โ€ Syracuse (NY) Herald American, Aug. 11, 1985; Jane Addams, Twenty Years at Hull-House (New York: Macmillan, 1910), 429-31;ย Selected Papers of Jane Addams, 3:606 (image of auditorium);ย Hull-House Bulletin, 6 (Mid-Winter 1903-04), 1, Jane Addams Papers Microfilm (JAPM), 53:1170; Hull-House Year Book 1906-1907; Jane Addams to W. E. B. Du Bois, January 26, 1907; Mabel Hyde Kittredge to Jane Addams, May 18, 1921, all in Jane Addams Digital Edition.

Hull-House of Possibilities

A sepia-toned portrait of a woman in profile, seated and wearing a white lace dress, with her hair styled up. She faces right against a dark background. Handwritten text is visible on the lower part of the image.
Four young girls in dresses perform indoors; one plays piano, one plays violin, and two stand in the center singing. They all have short bobbed haircuts and stand on a wooden floor with framed pictures on the wall behind them.
Children Practicing at the Hull-House Music School. (Photo courtesy: Jane Addams Memorial Collection, Special Collections, University Library, University of Illinois Chicago).

On February 21, 1901, little Blanche Ebert performed big musical compositions by Ludwig van Beethoven and Stephen Heller on the piano at a concert at Hull-House. She was a student of the Hull-House Music School and one of four gifted pupils who performed that day. Blanche was nine years old, and her passion for music just blossoming, but her education at Hull-House, a settlement dedicated to expanding the definition of the possible for young people, must have given her early confidence, both as a pianist and as a girl.

Hull-House Music School offered โ€œserious musical training to talented children,โ€ admitting them based upon aptitude tests; and Blanche was no doubt gifted from the start. But as she hailed from a poor immigrant family in the 18th Ward, just north of Hull-House, Blanche was also at least a little bit lucky, too. Most poor children did not have access to the musical instruments, private lessons, and concerts, like those offered at the Hull-House Music School.

A sepia-toned portrait of a woman in profile, seated and wearing a white lace dress, with her hair styled up. She faces right against a dark background. Handwritten text is visible on the lower part of the image.
Blanche Ebert Seaver, 1916. (Photo courtesy David Stoddard Atwood Collection, California History Room, California State Library, Sacramento, CA).

In a brochure circulated to raise funds for the Hull-House Music School in the late 1890s, Jane Addams said: โ€œWe realize afresh that it is the business of youth to reaffirm the beauty and joy in the world.โ€ In order to succeed in that business, girls and boys deserved cultural nourishment, Addams believed. Much of the focus of the activities at Hull-House revolved around children, each one an effort to expose young people to a world beyond the tenements and dirty streets of urban Chicago, to organize activities to bring art and music and beauty to people in the settlement’s neighborhood. At Hull-House, children were deemed worthy of attention and nurturing in the arts, and activities like private piano lessons , gave them remarkable opportunities to redefine their futures.

Blanche Ella Theodora Ebert was born on Sep. 15, 1891, in Chicago, the tenth child of Norwegian immigrant parents. Her father supported his large family as a painter, and in 1901 Blanche was one of seven children still living at home. We cannot know how Blanche felt as she took the stage to perform the opening piece of music by Beethoven for the Hull-House concert in 1901, but we can imagine something of what the opportunity to play a piano and perform for an audience meant to an underprivileged kid on a cold Chicago day in the early twentieth century. And we do know that Blanche Ebert took full advantage of the opportunity, charting for herself an unlikely and brave career as a pianist and composer.

Until about 1906, Blanche was a piano student and assistant music teacher at Hull-House. Her natural talent and her education at Hull-House afforded her entry into the Chicago Musical College from which she graduated in 1911. In 1912, she felt bold and moved west to Los Angeles, where she became a music teacher at the Egan School of Music and Drama. She also performed as a pianist in a variety of venues in southern California and became a โ€œnotedโ€ accompanist. By late 1914, she was teaching at Blanchard Music School in Los Angeles and playing piano for silent films shown at the Majestic Theatre.

One day while riding the streetcar downtown, Blanche met Frank R. Seaver, an attorney eight years her senior. The couple married in Chicago on Sep. 16, 1916. They lived in California for a while before moving to New York, where Frank was stationed during WWI. In New York during that time, Blanche became a successful musical arranger and composer, writing and selling dozens of songs, many to popular artists of the day like the Irish singer John McCormack. Her most famous songs were โ€œCalling Me Back to You,โ€ composed during the war, and โ€œJust for Today.โ€

In the 1920s, the Seavers lived in Mexico City, and it was there where Blanche discovered a second passion, philanthropy. She established a society to help homeless Mexican children, and that was the start of seventy-years of generous living. The Seavers moved back to the United States in 1928, settlingย  permanently in Los Angeles. Frank Seaver made a fortune in the oil business, and Blanche became a well-known philanthropist.

Inspired and grateful for the education she received in Chicago, Blanche focused her giving on educational institutions. She and her husband donated money to the Harvard Boys School in L.A., the University of Southern California, Loyola Marymount University, Claremont McKenna College, Pomona College, Rockford College in Illinois, and Pepperdine University. After Frankโ€™s death in 1964, Blanche continued her giving, helping Pepperdine establish its Malibu campus and dedicating the Frank R. Seaver College there in 1975.

Throughout her life, Blanche, who never had children, continued to share her love of music and was an active patron of the arts and a supporter of children’s charities. She supported the Los Angeles Music Center, the Los Angeles Symphony, the Los Angeles Pops Orchestra, and the famous Hollywood Bowl. She also founded the Los Angeles Orphanage Guild and served as a member of the Board of Directors of Los Angeles Childrenโ€™s Hospital. In 1963, the Los Angeles Times named her โ€œWoman of the Year;โ€ and MacMurray College in Illinois and Pepperdine University awarded her honorary doctorate degrees in 1973 and 1980, respectively.

Blanche Ebert Seaver died on April 14, 1994, ninety-three years after playing Beethoven at Hull-House. Her story is a second-generation American story. Her hard-working immigrant parents could only have dreamed of such a robust life for their children. But Seaverโ€™s story is also a story of what Hull-House could offer little girls and little boys with talents and courage and dreams. Jane Addams could not write such a story as Blancheโ€™s for every child who took advantage of the programs at Hull-House. But every single day, through its programs and activities, the settlement exposed young people to the arts and made a difference in the lives of the children in Chicago’s poorest neighborhoods. Blancheโ€™s story is one shining musical example of how Hull-House was a house of possibilities.

Stacy Lynn, Associate Editor

Sources: ย Los Angeles City Directory (1915), 757; Blanche Ebert and Frank R. Seaver Papers, Finding Aid, Pepperdine University, Malibu, CA; 1900 U.S. Federal Census; 1910 U.S. Federal Census; Blanche Ebert Baptismal Record, U.S. Evangelical Lutheran Church in America Church Records, 1781-1969; Ebert and Seaver Marriage Record, Cook County, Illinois, U.S., Marriage Index, 1871-1920; โ€œChicago at a Glance,โ€ Chicago Tribune, June 17, 1900, p. 50; โ€œReception to Pianist,โ€ Los Angeles Express, Oct. 19, 1912; โ€œEgan Recital Will Be Given Tomorrow,โ€ Los Angeles Express, Jan. 8, 1913, p. 7; โ€œThe Festival Choir,โ€ Los Angeles Express, Mar. 21, 1913, p. 10; โ€œWhittier Choral Society,โ€ The Whittier (CA) News, Mar. 24, 1914, p. 3; โ€œCoronation of Queen Thelma Chamber Music Featured,โ€ The Daily Telegram (Long Beach, CA), June 6, 1914, p. 5; โ€œImportant Musical,โ€ Hollywood (CA) Citizen, July 3, 1914, p. 5; โ€œLost and Found,โ€ Los Angeles Express, Nov. 27, 1914, p. 17; โ€œBrahms Quintet Will Give Concert,โ€ Los Angeles Express, Feb. 25, 1915, p. 6; โ€œMajestic,โ€ The Los Angeles Times, Mar. 31, 1916, p. 16; โ€œSeaver-Ebert Nuptials, Chicago Event,โ€ The Bulletin (Pomona, CA), Sep. 17, 1916, p. 9; โ€œMac to Confer Five Honorary Degrees at Commencement,โ€ The Jacksonville (IL) Journal Courier, May 20, 1973, p. 36; โ€œBlanche E. Seaver, Major Donor to Colleges, Dies,โ€ The Los Angeles Times, Apr. 13, 1994, p. 206; โ€œSeaver, Blanche Ebert,โ€ The Los Angeles Times, Apr. 17, 1994, p. 164; Hull-House Music School,” pamphlet, c. 1935,ย Jane Addams Papers, Microfilm Edition (JAPM), 36:78-81;ย Hull-House Bulletin, 4 (January 1-May 1, 1901), 4-5,ย JAPM, 53:1123-24; Hull-House Bulletin, 5 (Semi-Annual, 1902, no. 1), 5, JAPM, 53:1141; Hull-House Bulletin, 6 (Autumn, 1904, no. 2), 4, JAPM, 53:1193; Hull-House Bulletin, 7 (1906-1906, no. 1), 6, 53:1219; Selected Papers of Jane Addams, 3:421, 473n3;ย Jane Addams’ Own Story of Her Work: How the Work at Hull-House Has Grown (Third of Three Installments), May 1906; Hull-House Year Book 1906-1907; Hull-House 1889-1909, 1909, all inย Jane Addams Digital Edition.

Hull-House in the Family and in the Stars

A dense field of bright stars and glowing clouds of gas in deep space, with blue and white hues, creating a vibrant and sparkling cosmic scene.
A black-and-white portrait of a woman with dark hair, wearing a light-colored blouse with a rounded collar and a dark choker necklace with a round pendant. She faces the camera with a neutral expression.
Henrietta Swope, the daughter of Gerard and Mary Hill Swope.

When I wrote last time on the โ€œThe Other Worldly Orbit of Jane Addams,โ€ I knew I was going to follow it up by writing the story of a particular Hull-House resident, the daughter of Hull-House residents, who became an astronomer and very early in her career discovered 385 stars. This story of a woman named Henrietta Swope began at Hull-House, where her settlement worker parents met. It passed back through Hull-House with her own year of residency at the settlement after her graduation from Barnard College in 1925. And it is as illustrative of the extraordinary list of human beings who had a connection to Jane Addams and to Hull-House as the variable stars Swope studied are of the beauty of the universe.

Henrietta Swope began dreaming about the stars when she was ten years old, and I cannot help but think that at least a little part of the reason she was able to reach those stars was because she had Hull-House in her family.

But more about the stars later. Letโ€™s start Henriettaโ€™s story at the very beginning.

On Tuesday, August 20, 1901, at noon, in a clearing in the woods on Mackinac Island in northern Michigan, Jane Addams delivered a wedding speech. It was an unusual venue for the settlement leader to give a speech. But it was an unusual wedding. It was the union of Hull-House residents Mary Hill and Gerard Swope, two young members of the extended Hull-House family. A large contingent of the small wedding party were Hull-House residents, including the bride and groomโ€™s best friends George Hooker and Maud Gernon.

Addressing the couple and the wedding party near picturesque Sugar Loaf Rock, Addams said, in part:

“Knowing as we do something of the character of these two people, somewhat of the temper of their attachment and the form of the expression we may confidently predict that and all life’s journey through to the end is will be illuminated by [that] Love which carries a burden which is no burden, the Love which attempts what is above its strength, pleads no excuse of impossibility for it believes all things are possible to itself.โ€

It’s a coincidence and not at all prophetic, but I love that Addams used the word “illuminated” and wow, indeed, “all things are possible.”

Mary Hill and Gerard Swope were two extraordinary young people who found their way to Hull-House and who would be forever shaped by the experience. Mary was the thirty-year-old the daughter of a former Harvard president and an 1896 graduate of Bryn Mawr College. She moved to Chicago to study at the University of Chicago under renown educator John Dewey. In 1898, she became a resident at Hull-House, where she taught textile classes and basket weaving, directed the Hull-House Shakespeare Club, and for a time managed the Hull-House Labor Museum. The twenty-eight-year-old Gerard Swope, a native of St. Louis, arrived in Chicago with a degree in electrical engineering from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. He worked at the Western Electric Company in Chicago, and he taught English, electronics, and algebra classes at Hull-House and lived at the settlement for a short time in 1897. Mary and Gerard met at the settlement and fell in love.

Black and white portrait of a middle-aged man in a suit and tie, with short, neatly-combed hair, looking directly at the camera with a neutral expression.
Gerard Swope George Grantham Bain Collection, Library of Congress)

Gerard moved to St. Louis in 1899 to become a branch manager there for Western Electric, and Mary remained at Hull-House. The couple maintained a long-distance relationship until their wedding, after which Mary joined her new husband in St. Louis, where she did social welfare work and the couple started their family. Their first child Henrietta was born in St. Louis on October 26, 1902. Three sonsโ€”Isaac, David, and Gerard Jr.โ€”followed,ย  and a fourth son John was born in New Jersey where Gerard Sr. moved the family as his career path led him to the East Coast. In 1919, Gerard became president of General Electricโ€™s new subsidiary International G.E., and the family moved to Manhattan. Gerard was involved with various reform organizations and he worked for quality working conditions which set him apart in the 1920s from many of his contemporary leaders of large corporations. Mary became a member of the board of directors of the Henry Street Settlement, operated by Lillian Wald, the good friend of Jane Addams, and she volunteered at Greenwich House and served as vice-chair of the New York branch of the Womenโ€™s International League for Peace and Freedom.

Over the years, Mary and Gerard Swope kept in touch with Jane Addams, visited Hull-House, and made donations to the settlement. Gerard became a millionaire and in 1922 became the president of General Electric. The Swopes sent their bright daughter Henrietta off to Barnard College, where she earned her degree in mathematics; and then they sent her off to Chicago. Or perhaps Henrietta herself felt the pull of social work and felt the family connection to Hull-House. Although little is known about Henrietta’s time in that city, she lived at the settlement and worked in a program for the elderly while studying in the School of Social Service Administration (formerly the School of Civics and Philanthropy) at the University of Chicago with two significant members of Jane Addams’s orbit, Sophonisba Breckinridge and Edith Abbott.

But Henrietta Swope was still dreaming of the stars.

A smiling woman sits atop a saddled camel, holding the reins. Scientific equipment is loaded on the camel. The black-and-white image is from an American solar eclipse expedition in Ak-Bulak, Russia, in the early 20th century.So she left Chicago to take a job at Harvard to work for the astronomy professor Dr. Harlow Shapley at the Harvard Observatory. While she looked for variable stars and became Shapleyโ€™s first assistant, she earned a Masterโ€™s degree in astronomy from Radcliffe College in 1928. The following year, she became famous when she identified 385 new stars, which helped scientists identify the โ€œhubโ€ of the Milky Way. At the time, Swope was touted as โ€œone of the youngest women ever to have made a comparable mark in scientific research.” During her long, successful career as an astronomer, she studied Cepheid variable stars in dwarf galaxies and M 31, the Andromeda Galaxy. However, her most significant contribution was developing a new method for measuring the universe, using the brightness of stars, which became known as the “celestial yardstick.” I don’t understand any of this, but it sounds amazing. Henrietta Swope was an accomplished and well-respected scientist.

In 1936, Henrietta Swope was a member of the joint-expedition of the Harvard Observatory and the Massachusetts Institute of Technology to study the solar eclipse in Soviet Central Asia. During World War II, she worked in the M.I.T. Radiation Laboratory and then served as a mathematician in the Hydrographic Office of the United States Department of the Navy. Swope returned to Barnard College in 1947 to teach astronomy until 1952, when she moved to California to work at the Mt. Wilson and Palomar Observatories. After her retirement in 1968, she continued to work at the observatories. Swope was a member of the American Astronomical Society; she won the American Astronomical Society Annie Jump Cannon Prize in 1968 for her research on photometry and variable stars; and she received an honorary Ph.D. from the University of Basel in Switzerland.

Henrietta Swope dreamed of the stars, she reached the stars, and then she made certain many generations to come could see the stars. In 1969, when she was in active retirement, Swope donated $650,000 worth of securities to the Carnegie Institution of Washington for the development of the Las Campanas Observatory in Chile and the installation of a 40-inch telescope in the mountains. The Swope Telescope began operation in 1971. Henrietta Swope died in 1980, but the observatory she helped established is still helping people look at the stars.

Now, how’s that for a life story from the otherworldly orbit of Jane Addams?

By Stacy Lynn,
Associate Editor

Sources: โ€œSwope, Gerard,โ€ American National Biography; Mary Hill Swope Papers, Finding Aid, Special Collections, University of Illinois Chicago; Papers of Henrietta Hill Swope, Schlesinger Library, Radcliffe Institute, Harvard University; Oral History of Henrietta Swope, August 1977, Transcript, Niels Bohr Library and Archives, American Institute of Physics, College Park, MD; Carnegie Institution of Washington, Year Book 67, 1967-1868, 73-74; โ€œHull House Teacher is Wed,โ€ Chicago Tribune, Aug. 21, 1901, p. 3; โ€œRomantic Wedding,โ€ The Daily Herald (Port Huron, MI), Aug. 21, 1901, p. 5; โ€œWealthy Girl Aids in Finding Universeโ€™s Hub,โ€ The Capital Times (Madison, WI), June 11, 1929, p. 6 (image 1); โ€œGirl Aids in Discovering Hub of Universe,โ€ The Rock Island (IL) Argus, June 13, 1929, p. 12; โ€œHenrietta Swope Wins Distinction,โ€ The North Addams (MA) Transcript, June 24, 1929, p. 8; โ€œGirl in Her Twenties Gets Credit in Major Scientific Discovery,โ€ The Dispatch (Moline, IL), July 26, 1929, p. 31; โ€œGirl Eclipses Stay-at-Homes,โ€ Journal Gazette (Mattoon, IL), July 6, 1936, p. 6 (image 2); “Henrietta H. Swope, Is Dead; Helped to Measure Variable Stars,โ€ The New York Times, Nov. 28, 1980, p. 28; โ€œStudies Gauged Depths of Space,โ€ The Los Angeles Times, Dec. 1, 1980, p. 23; Hull-House Bulletin, 3 (Oct. 1898), 7, Jane Addams Papers Microfilm Edition (JAPM), 53:1051; Hull-House Bulletin, 3 (Nov. 1898), 4, JAPM, 53:1058; Hull-House Bulletin, 4 (Autumn 1900), 3, 4, JAPM, 53:1106-1107; Selected Papers of Jane Addams, 3:618n5; Jane Addams to Florence Kelley, August 1, 1901; Address at the wedding of Gerard Swope and Mary Dayton Hill, August 21, 1901; Jane Addams to Esther Linn Hulbert, July 16, 1901; Gerard Swope to Jane Addams, January 7, 1905; Mary Hill Swope to Jane Addams, December, 1910; Gerard Swope to Jane Addams and Mary Rozet Smith, January 19, 1923, all in ย Jane Addams Digital Edition.

The Otherworldly Orbit of Jane Addams

A black-and-white photo shows a large group of men and women seated at tables in a formal dining room, engaged in conversation and eating, with ornate light fixtures overhead and wood-paneled walls.

I grew up in Illinois where the life and legacy of Jane Addams is widely known and appreciated. Illinois School children learn about Addams and Hull-House, and she is a perennial favorite topic of their book reports, term papers, and history fair essays and display boards. As a historian of Illinois history in the early years of my work, I came to know and appreciate Jane Addams at a deeper level, too, understanding better her contributions to social reform, her lobbying for protective legislation for workers, her modern arguments for woman suffrage, her importance as a philosopher, and her unwavering advocacy of world peace, even when it threatened to harm all she had built at Hull-House.

Yet the more I study the ways in which Jane Addams supported, nurtured, and inspired the women around her, and the ways in which she drew on the spirits, intellects, and achievements of those women, the more convinced I am that Jane Addams created and existed in an otherworldly orbit. An orbit where innovation and creativity and fearless determination flourished. An orbit which attracted women of myriad backgrounds and life workโ€”educators, business women, artists, social scientists, doctors, writers, and lawyers, as well as social workers and reformers. An orbit which drew in some of the most talented and inspirational women of the era. An orbit that energized and empowered young women to find their talent and become inspirational leaders in their chosen fields and disciplines.

It was this otherworldly orbit of women that was Jane Addamsโ€™s super power.

A large group of men and women sit around several long tables in a dimly lit dining hall, engaged in conversation while eating a meal. The room has wooden walls, arched windows, and hanging light fixtures.
Hull-House Dining Hall; Jane Addams head of table at the far left, surveying her orbit.

Hull-House was a social settlement offering important educational and cultural programming for immigrants and working-class people. It was a place dedicated to social, economic, and political change to benefit all people in a society reeling from the excesses and inequalities of American industry and politics. Hull-House was also a remarkable planet of women, full of purpose and promise. And Jane Addams was the gravity that held these women together, bolstering their courage and making them so much greater than the sum of the individuals who at some point in their lives called the settlement on Halsted Street their home. Jane Addams dedicated her life to making the 19th Ward, Chicago, her state of Illinois, the United States, and the world better places to live. That work and dedication set her apart. But I believe, this orbit of women that Jane Addams created at Hull-House was what made her truly extraordinary.

One of my greatest privileges of editing the papers of Jane Addams is daily introduction to the fascinating women in Jane Addamsโ€™s orbit. Although it is only a qualitative observation, I assert that few (if any) other institutions in American history so beautifully nourished more women to do so much good in the world than did Hull-House. I suspect this inspirational characteristic of Hull-House was in part due to Addamsโ€™s feminine, motherly or sisterly guidance of her juniors and her peers, as well as the more generous hearts of women in collaborate work. But I would also argue it was the brilliance of Jane Addams to understand that women of all backgrounds had something to offer to the narrative of reform and possessed voices worthy of projection. It was the brilliance of Jane Addams to create an atmosphere of open-minded curiosity and respectful discourse for women. It was the brilliance of Jane Addams to fill up that atmosphere with as many bright and shining female voices she could find and who could find their own way to her and to Hull-House, as well.

It would be hard to overstate the significance of the long list of extraordinary women connected with Hull-House and Jane Addams. Many of those women, like Florence Kelley, Julia Lathrop, and Dr. Alice Hamilton were well-known in their lifetimes and remembered by history today. One scholar likened some of those women to โ€œstarsโ€ in a constellation around Jane Addams. I prefer to think of those female โ€œstarsโ€ as existing in an otherworldly orbit with Jane Addams and with a breathtaking list of incredible women that history has largely forgotten. As a tribute to my joy in discovering the women in Jane Addamsโ€™s orbit and to amplify, like she did, the voices of the lessor known, I am going to offer a series of blog posts about some of the women you may not know who found their way to Hull-House and became a part of the wide influence of the settlement in the world far beyond Halsted Street.

**********

On Oct. 21, 1902, Jane Addams penned this letter:

My dear Miss Monroe
ย  ย  ย The twenty [minutes] will be perfectly convenient for us and affairs have so adjusted themselves that the little room now vacant may be yours so long as you care to keep it. The word little however is used advisedlyโ€”perhaps it would be better for you to see it before you decide on your belongings.
ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย Faithfully yours
ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย  ย Jane Addams

The letter was to Harriet Monroe, a 41-year-old poet from Chicago. Monroe, who became a Hull-House resident for a brief time, delivered a public lecture about Milton on Dec. 3, 1902, at the settlement. She became a Hull-House teacher, offering an advanced class on English poetry and establishing a reading club at the settlement. Monroe was born and raised in Chicago, where her father was a successful lawyer before the Chicago Fire, after which his financial situation deteriorated. From a young age, Monroe developed a love of literature by exploring her fatherโ€™s library. Although her family was not Catholic, she was educated at the Georgetown Visitation Convent in Washington, DC.ย  In the 1880s, she lived in New York City, from where she wrote articles on the arts for the Chicago Tribune, before returning to her hometown in 1889.

In 1902, when she arrived at Hull-House, Monroe was not a well-known poet, not a household name, nor a novelist, as she had reported her occupation to the census taker in 1900. She struggled to make a literary name for herself,ย  An older woman with short, wavy hair and glasses sits outdoors on a bench, wearing a dark dress and layered necklaces. She looks slightly past the camera with a calm expression. Large wooden planters are in the background.although she had published a few poems and penned a special verse, โ€œThe Columbian Odeโ€ to open the Worldโ€™s Columbian Exposition in Chicago in 1893. Poor health and failure to attain critical acclaim for her literary work frustrated her, but she kept writing and developed a widening circle of literary friends, which would come to include Robert Louis Stevenson, Eugene Field, Richard Watson Gilder, and Vachel Lindsay. In the years after her time at Hull-House, Monroe supported herself as a journalist, writing more than 200 articles for the Chicago Tribune, mostly on the arts, and she published sporadic freelance pieces in popular publications like Atlantic Monthly and Century Magazine. It was a meager existence, but Monroe remained committed to writing, bemoaned modern American societyโ€™s general disinterest in poetry, and began to articulate the need for poetry in American cultural life.

As was typical with most Hull-House residents who came and went, Monroe maintained her connection to the settlement and to Jane Addams years after her departure. She was a frequent guest at the settlement, made donations and offered gifts, and in 1905 wrote โ€œThe Trollโ€™s Holiday,โ€ an operetta set to music by Hull-House music teacher Eleanor Smith and performed at the Hull-House Music School. Over the years, the letters between Addams and Monroe reflect a respectful, friendly relationship infused with admiration and staunch support for one anotherโ€™s work. In 1908, Addams wrote Monroe about her poetry: โ€œIt seems to me very remarkable, to be able to express the subtler side of the background of life as youโ€ฆโ€ In 1910, Monroe praised Addamsโ€™s latest book, The Spirit of Youth and the City Streets: โ€œIt seems to me profoundly thought out and beautifully done; thought and done with fine intelligence and exquisite sympathy. Surely it will have a far-reaching affect.โ€

Women supporting women was the foundational characteristic of the orbit Jane Addams cultivated, and that super power of hers became the super power of other women, too. To be in Jane Addamsโ€™s orbit was to remain there, to want to stay close to the spirit of the woman, to feel the pull of the supportive energy of Hull-House, no matter the time or the distance. To have experienced Jane Addamsโ€™s orbit was to wish to create your own orbit of inclusion and support and purpose beyond the self.

I suspect Harriet Monroe either learned at Hull-House the lesson of going beyond yourself and connecting your talents to others, or while there she practiced the lesson which was already in her own heart. Because ultimately, Harriet Monroeโ€™s greatest contribution was not her own poetry but rather her Cover of Poetry: A Magazine of Verse, Vol. 1, No. 1, featuring a decorative border, a lion illustration, title text, contents list, publication details, and the date October 1912 in red at the bottom.fierce support of the art form and the poetry of others. At the age of 52, Monroe conceived of the idea to create an American journal of poetry, to seek out great poets and good work, and promote that work in the pages of a popular magazine. In October 1912, Monroe published the first issue of Poetry: A Magazine of Verse. When she launched the magazine, Monroe sent Jane Addams a complimentary subscription. Addams would not have it, however, writing in reply: โ€œI am not in the least willing to have my name stand on an honorary list. Please let me send the enclosed and assure you that I have seldom subscribed to a magazine with more pleasure.โ€

Poetry was an immediate critical and popular success. For the remainder of her life, Monroe edited the magazine, raising American interest in poetry and launching the careers of many of Americaโ€™s greatest poets, like Robert Frost and T. S. Eliot. Eighty-four years after Monroeโ€™s death in 1936, Poetry magazine is still in publication, still a venue for new poets, still a vehicle for a great American art form. Hull-House and Jane Addams may or may not have directly inspired Monroeโ€™s direction in life. I dare not give either the credit for Monroeโ€™s brilliant vision and stunning contribution to modern American poetry. But in reading more and more stories of the lives of people who were in the orbit of the woman and the settlement, even for very short periods of time, one cannot dismiss the excellence of that orbit, either in what it may have inspired or the inspirational figures it drew into its remarkable sphere of influence.

Stacy Lynn, Associate Editor

Sources: Eleanor J. Stebner, The Women of Hull House: A Study in Spirituality, Vocation, and Friendship (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1997); Rima Lunin Schultz and Adele Hast, eds., Women Building Chicago, 1790-1990: A Biographical Dictionary (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2001), 598-600; โ€œMonroe, Harriet,โ€ American National Biography; 1900 U.S. Federal Census; Hull-House Bulletin, 5 (Semi-Annual, 1902, no. 2), 3-10, passim, Jane Addams Papers, Microfilm Edition (JAPM), 53:1156-63, passim; Hull-House Bulletin, 7 (1905-1906), 18, JAPM, 53:1231; Jane Addams to Harriet Monroe, October 21, 1902; Jane Addams to Harriet Monroe, May 13, 1905; Jane Addams to Harriet Monroe, June 27, 1905; Jane Addams to Harriet Monroe, May 23, 1908; Harriet Monroe to Jane Addams, January 31, 1910; Jane Addams to Harriet Monroe, December 2. 1912; all in Jane Addams Digital Edition. Images courtesy of Poetry Magazine, the Poetry Foundation, and Richard J. Daley Library Special Collections and University Archives at the University of Chicago. Click this link to explore the correspondence between Jane Addams and Harriet Monroe.

Democratizing the Arts and Crafts Movement: Jane Addams and Hull-House as A Lever for Social reform

A sepia-toned portrait of a woman with short hair, gazing thoughtfully at the camera, her hand resting under her chin. She wears dark clothing and appears pensive against a plain background.
A sepia-toned portrait of a woman with short hair, gazing thoughtfully at the camera, her hand resting under her chin. She wears dark clothing and appears pensive against a plain background.
Jane Addams by Eva Watson Schutze,

Jane Addams was one of the most well-known and influential women reformers of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. She founded the Hull-House, a social settlement that became a leader in the new field of social work; she won the Nobel Prize for Peace in 1931 redeeming her reputation which had been attacked because of her pacifism during World War I; and she was a prominent suffragist representing politically organized women nationwide . She advised presidents Theodore Roosevelt, William Howard Taft, Woodrow Wilson, Herbert Hoover and Franklin Delano Roosevelt.  As a writer of ten books and co-author of two more, hundreds of magazine and journal articles, as a lecturer and campaigner, what Addams said about democracy, the labor question, and international affairs had weight. One of the less known contributions of Addams, however, is in the field of cultural work. And that is our subject today. When we urge friendship and inclusion of newcomers to the American shores, when we valorize the contributions of diverse cultural backgrounds and admire traditional crafts, when we speak about making the motto: “one out of many” a fact of life, when we campaign for art and music in our public schools, we are validating the ideas and cultural pedagogy of Addams and her colleagues at Hull-House.

Today I want to tell you something about the history of Hull-House from 1889 to 1935, a settlement house located on Chicago’s Near West Side, a dense, industrial neighborhood populated by immigrant workers.  Our focus is on the role of arts and crafts.  Many of you will have an image of the Lower East Side of New York —as a congested tenement and sweatshop neighborhood filled with newly arrived immigrants. Hull-House was in Chicago’s “port of entry” neighborhood where immigrants found cheap accommodations having arrived at the railroad depots nearby. These photos make the point that Addams made when she thought that housing reform would be easier in Chicago than in New York, where tenements were taller and denser.

Historic black-and-white photo showing people walking on a snowy city street, with several buildings in the background, including the Hull-House settlement and a saloon. Likely taken in 1909 during winter.
Black-and-white photo of people outside an Italian pharmacy and drugstore on a street corner, with signs for cigars and newspapers. Early 1900s urban setting with surrounding buildings and a man sitting on a bench.

Settlement houses were community centers unlike charities or welfare bureaus.  They were run by educated middle-to-upper-middle-class women and men who believed they could attack the worst aspects of industrialism and the chaos and ugliness of slum neighborhoods by bringing culture to the people in these neighborhoods.

The movement grew in American cities where by 1911 there were 400 settlement houses.  By developing friendships with their neighbors, offering art and music classes, lectures and exhibitions they would lift up the masses” and inspire an awakening that would have political and social transformative power. Soon Hull-House became a laboratory for teacher training, offered medical clinics, pioneered community and little theatre productions and became a think-tank initiating sociological and public health research projects. It lent its influence for the suffrage movement, to campaigns to outlaw child labor, and to efforts at mediating disputes between labor and capital.  

Overall, the cultural programs remained the constant and most all-engrossing of the settlement’s offerings.  Specifically, arts and crafts were made accessible to the neighborhood and the initial impulse of bringing art to the people turned into  a much more complicated exchange where the people’s art and the canonical European heritage of art were brought together. A sign of this effort to re-think cultural production in an industrial democracy heavily influenced by the different traditions of its immigrants is the event that occurred in 1904 at the Annual arts and crafts exhibition held at the Art Institute of Chicago. It may well have gone unnoticed by many who visited the Art Institute.  It may have had greater effect back in the neighborhood from whence the exhibited object derived: it was the inclusion into a prestigious exhibition of the work of highly trained artisans worldwide of a textile designed and handmade on a traditional loom by an Irish immigrant who came to Hull-House’s weaving room to practice her craft. This was noted quite simply in the show’s catalogue that listed Mrs. Brosnahan as the creator of a textile on display.

Left: A large room with several spinning wheels and chairs. Right: An older woman in period clothing using a spinning wheel in front of a brick fireplace.

Honora Brosnahan was a housewife in the neighborhood; she frequently displayed her skill in Irish spinning to visitors from among the neighbors and others from far and wide who flocked to the settlement house on Saturday evenings where in the workrooms they encountered neighborhood people, often dressed in the clothing of their native lands, performing ancient crafts.[1]

They might hear a lecture on the history of the techniqueโ€”spinning, weaving, woodworking–or the history of the materials used. There might be accompanying music –folk or classic that spoke to the plight of workers such as “The Sweat-shop Song” composed by Eleanor Smith, head of the settlement’s Music School; and on the workshop walls there would be additional displays of handicrafts, tools, and even reproductions of genre paintings by European masters depicting artisans. at work or farmers in the fields chosen by Enella Benedict, artist-in-residence and head of the Art School at Hull-House.  

For Addams it must have been a satisfying moment to enter Mrs. Brosnahan’s textile into the exhibit, a moment that she could relish as a realization of a major goal of the settlement. She had managed to create cultural space in which an immigrant woman’s skills were affirmed in her adopted homeland; her craft was valorized and included in a serious exhibition in the major museum of the Middle West. Her children and neighbors could see her valued in this downtown context as well as in the neighborhood space thereby knitting together the generations that had been upheaved by transplantation. This quiet cultural event spoke volumes and was key to Addams’s prescription for the social healing she believed was necessary for the growth of a new social ethic and a new respect for difference, for history, and for progress and the interconnectedness of humanity. This was happening at a time when fear of the stranger, the rise of race theories and the rhetoric of a nativist politics of exclusion was spreading in the land. 

 At Hull-House, the major settlement in the U. S. and the first to open in Chicago, two groups developed and interacted through art:

The first group was the colony of American-born and privileged women and men led by Jane Addams and Ellen Gates Starrโ€”college friends. They had visited Toynbee Hall, the first social experiment of its kind, in the East London slum and in their minds their desires to find ethically useful work, to share culture with those less fortunate, and to live democratically among the people cohered in the example of the Oxford college men who had joined Canon Samuel Barnett and his wife Henrietta to work among London’s most disadvantaged.

Jane and Ellen decided they would use the former’s inheritance and the latter’s Chicago social and cultural connectionsโ€”and open an American version of the English Toynbee Hall. The two young women were a sensation in Chicago, heralded by the city’s cultural and philanthropic elites and in less than five years of existence, Hull-House was on the list of attractions visitors to the Columbian Exposition in 1893 were told to view.  Englishman William T. Steadโ€”maverick journalist, moralist, and critic of industrialization famously wrote at the conclusion of the World’s Fair, that If Christ Came to Chicago (in a book by that title)โ€”he would be most comfortable in the colony of humanitarians that had gathered at Hull-House to live among the poorest and most oppressed.[2]

Two black-and-white portraits: left, Jane Addams in 1889 with hair tied back; right, Ellen Gates Starr circa 1889 with curly hair, both wearing high-collared dresses. Text identifies them as Hull-House founders.

This brings us to the second group at Hull-House: The second group were the neighbors, in the beginning those Irish and German immigrant families already English-speaking, then Italians, Jews, and Greeks.  Among them were Honora Brosnahan, Michael Gamboney, Jose Torres, and Nick Fosco and many others —– The two groups interacted and learned from each other in many positive ways.  Yet the urban planning goals of transforming the neighborhood never materialized. However, the settlement “ideal” of a democratic cosmopolitanism and neighborliness represented best through the arts and cultural work succeeded in reaching many neighbors. As one Hull-House “boy,” now grown-up put it: “Hull-House showed us another way of living.” Jane Addams, in one of her more critical reflections, thought she had reached mostly “the transfigured few” not the masses.[3]

Three black-and-white photos: a teacher guides a child at pottery, a man shapes clay at a pottery wheel, and another man focuses on sculpting clay, each captioned with their journey in the Hull-House Art School.
Left: A woman holding bundles of garments stands outside a building. Right: An elderly woman sits in a chair indoors, surrounded by framed photos and art on the wall.

In a larger sense there were other successes. One of the major accomplishments is the acceptance of the importance of the arts in public schools, the acknowledgement that children need creative play and exposure to art, music, performanceโ€”and not just the children of the privileged in society, but those from all neighborhoods, all cultures, all economic classes. These ideas that we take for granted today, even when we fail to fully fulfill them, have become the measure of a compassionate, humane society. In addition, and equally important, the narrative told by Jane Addams in her writings, which are still in print and read, interpret the immigration story in a positive light and we learn how important immigrant’s cultural contributions have been to the American culture. Scholars have identified Addams and Hull-House with significant innovations of our educational institutions, our ideas about child development, art and occupational therapy, recreational therapy, criminology, and the field of social work.

Art and Labor

Chicago noticed the transformation of the interior space of the old Hull homestead where Jane and Ellen were launching their settlement house. Allen B. Pond, of Pond & Pond Architects, had aided the two women in locating the once-stately building as an ample place to begin their cultural work.  His pen and ink drawing is one of the earliest images we have and shows the initial two-story additional building, known as the Butler Building, that Pond designed. The interior images illustrate the influences of Ruskin and Morris, and others we associate with the movement that argued for a moral aesthetic accessible to the working classes. T. C. Horsfall’s experiments with loaning art reproductions to the working classes of Manchester, England, would be tried here at Hull-House.

Four black-and-white photos of Hull-House interiors: a nursery with children, a parlor with a piano, a library, and a reception area, with descriptive text on the right side.

Allen Pond recognized kindred spirits in Addams and Starr. He remained their faithful architect for the twelve additional buildings of the settlement complex and he served as a trustee of the Hull-House Association until his death. It goes without saying that he is one of the Chicago Arts and Crafts Society.

Two men in suits stand side by side in an old black-and-white photo. They are indoors with framed pictures on the wall behind them. Both look at the camera, with one slightly blurred.

At the same time that the two women enticed Edward Butler, wealthy businessman, art collector, and a trustee of the Art Institute of Chicago, to donate $5,000 for the construction of  the new building architect Pond was planning to adjoin the old settlement house for  art exhibits, art studios, and a library, the colony of Hull-House residents had gotten deeply involved in the anti-sweatshop movement in Illinois. A cross-class campaign had been mounted when sensational articles exposed sweatshop conditions where women and children were working. There were demands for legislation to clean up the horrible tenement workshops and impose an 8-hour workday for women workers. Labor leaders, socialists, clubwomen, and religious leaders found in Addams, Starr, and a new Hull-House resident, Florence Kelley, inspiration and organization. This seemed to thrust the group far from the cultural evenings in which Ellen Starr read George Eliot’s Romola or lectured on art history or the work of the Chicago Public School Art Society of which she was President.

Watercolor rendering of early Hull-House and Butler Art Gallery, circa 1890. Street scene with people walking and horse-drawn carriage. Buildings have detailed architecture and fencing.

Starr asks rhetorically in her contribution to the settlement’s first publication, Hull-House Maps & Papers, (and I paraphrase here) is it ethical and practical to launch an expensive art gallery building in the midst of this struggle for survival among the garment workers in the neighborhood?  She argues that there is a connection between the two movements, what later union women would sing out poetically in the phrase “give us bread and give us roses”—and that a society that has no justice for workers has no foundation to produce authentic art.

Black-and-white photo of an art gallery room with sculptures, paintings, wooden chairs, and a table at Hull-House Settlement, circa 1895.

From the beginning Starr and Addams determined to involve themselves in the art and the politics of social change. This dual approach was possible because of the dedication of the group of cultural workers who joined them, some living and working at Hull-House for four decades. In this manner, Addams and Starr were constructing a non-elitist, differently gendered version of the artist in her or his studio. One example is Artist Enella Benedict, wealthy daughter of a manufacturer and real estate developer, had studied in Europe and taught at the art school of the Art Institute of Chicago. She chose to run an art school in the settlement and paint in a studio she shared with aspiring artists who lived in the neighborhood. She remained with Addams until her death, also teaching from time to time at the Art Institute, but deeply imbedded in the collaborative cultural work of the settlement where she designed and painted theater scenery and tableaux vivants that depicted classical Western religious art themes. She received no salary. Of course she could escape for vacations to the New England coast or Europe. But her paintings reflected the pull of the immigrant neighborhood she called her own. Two slides show paintings done by Benedict: one, the portrait of “Edith” a local Irish Catholic girl; and the misty pastel-like line of workers waiting.

Black-and-white photo of a woman with glasses reading a book, wearing a light blouse. Next to her is an Art School Hull House Chicago logo and text: Enella Benedict, head of the Art School.
Left: A painted portrait of a woman in a yellow dress. Right: A black-and-white photo of an art studio, easels, chairs, and artwork, including a portrait in progress matching the painting.

Addams and Starr were joined by artists, musicians, craftspeople, radicals and socialists who foresaw a soulless society with the deskilling of craft workers and the alienation of the masses into wage slaves. These bright, engaged women and men were disciples of John Ruskin, William Morris; some were Christian Socialists, others were influenced by Marx and Engels. From the start they performed a cultural pedagogy heavily tied to ideas of the trans-Atlantic arts and crafts movement.  It is surprising that it took them eight years to launch the Chicago Society of Arts and Crafts in 1897, for from the start cultural work was at the very center of the enterprise.

The society’s aims were wide ranging: cultivating in its members and others a sense of beauty, encouraging beauty in articles produced for everyday use, influencing the manual-training movement and the design and decoration of both useful and ornamental objects, encouraging handicrafts, studying factory conditions with a view to reducing the dominance of the machine, and holding exhibits and founding centers for crafts activities.  The society sponsored lectures on topics such as art education, the Arts and Crafts movement, the role of art in society, and specific crafts and held an annual exhibit, usually in November. Perhaps the society’s best-known lecturer was member Frank Lloyd Wright, who spoke March 6, 1901, on “Art and the Machine,” concluding that art was needed to give a soul to the machine.  Charles Ashbee was prescient in seeing Chicago’s unique approach to arts and crafts in the acceptance of the machine and the attempt to humanize the product and the production so that worker and consumer would benefit rather than suffer from technology.

Membership in the society included wealthy businessmen Edward B. Butler and William R. Hutchinsonโ€”both trustees of the Art Institute of Chicago as well as trustees of the Hull-House settlement. Allen B. Pond with his brother Irving, participated in that cross-over between aesthetic and social reform that characterized the Chicago society’s approach. Frank Hazen [Hazenplug] was a staff artist at Stone & Kimball who designed for both the Chapbook and the Hull House shops. He also worked with the Hull-House Theater and taught metalwork. He later headed the metalwork at the Byrdcliffe Arts and Crafts Colony in Woodstock, New York. Byrdcliffe had a strong connection to the Hull-House arts and crafts group.[4] Artist Carl Eric Lindin, born in Sweden, [5] emigrated to Chicago and studied painting at the Art Institute and in Paris, became a resident artist at Hull-House where he met the Photo-secessonist photographer Eva Watson-Schutze and the Byrdcliffe, artists and craftsmen who overlapped with many of the Hull House group.[6] George Herbert Twose of Hull-House, was an Englishman who taught manual training in the public schools and woodworking at the Hull House shops, and was the first president of the Society.[7]

Black-and-white sketch of a seated woman in profile, holding a small child. The woman wears a headscarf, and both figures are rendered in soft, gentle lines, evoking a sense of care and contemplation.

Strongly influenced by the arts and crafts movement, the New England artist Jessie Luther began her crafts career as director of the Labor Museum at Hull House, Chicago, at the invitation of Addams.[8]  Adeline Titsworth worked in the Labor Museum and taught weaving classes.[9]

With the help of Eleanor Smith, the founder and director of the Hull-House Music School, Myrtle French, founder and director of the Hull-House Kilns, Edith de Nancrede, director of children’s drama and dance, and Laura Dainty Pelham, director of the Hull-House Players, one of the first Little Theatre Groups in the country,ย  and Enella Benedict, head of the Art Schoolย  at the settlement Addams and Starrย  experimented and evolved cultural pedagogies. They did so with the goal of developing a democratic and cosmopolitan ethos that unified cultural, religious, and socio-economic differences. I mention these women because it was no coincidence that the Hull-House model of cultural production was gendered differently from the membership and leadership of the Chicago Society of Arts and Crafts, which was from the start overwhelmingly male.ย  The goals of the Chicago Society of Arts and Crafts and the departments of the settlement overlapped. Perhaps it was the marginalization of women in the arts that drove the Hull-House women to establish innovative institutional structures from which to launch themselves in order to be “eligible” in the eyes of the male custodians of culture to lead the society.

A sepia-toned painting shows a line of men in hats and coats waiting outside a building in an urban setting, conveying a somber mood of economic hardship.

Forty years later, Hull-House itself had been transformed into a place of production—a pottery and ceramics business employing the Mexicans now living in the neighborhood. The dishware provided the model for the commercially successful and popular Fiesta dinnerware.[10]  Industrial shops and workrooms, a school that taught textile weaving; dressmaking; a printing press, and with the infusion of New Deal monies, expanded studios and workshops teaching arts and crafts and industrial vocations. The machine was a reality but Hull-House attempted to contextualize its usage visually and performatively in the unique Labor Museum. This evolution reflects Addams’s and Starr’s goal of democratizing arts and craftsโ€”an evolution that can be expressed as a transformation of the concept of bringing art to the people to the implementation of creating cultural space where the people had a direct role as cultural workers for themselves.

From 1895 until 1900, when the Labor Museum was opened, there was a progression toward creating space at Hull-House for neighborhood people to work in industrial shops and at handicrafts while the colony of resident artists also flourished.[11] This was the heyday of the Chicago Arts and Crafts Society at Hull-House. The society’s aims were wide ranging: cultivating in its members and others a sense of beauty, encouraging beauty in articles produced for everyday use, influencing the manual-training movement and the design and decoration of both useful and ornamental objects, encouraging handicrafts, studying factory conditions with a view to reducing the dominance of the machine, and holding exhibits and founding centers for crafts activities.ย 

The society sponsored lectures on topics such as art education, the Arts and Crafts movement, the role of art in society, and specific crafts and held an annual exhibit, usually in November. Perhaps the society’s best-known lecturer was member Frank Lloyd Wright, who spoke March 6, 1901, on “Art and the Machine,” concluding that art was needed to give a soul to the machine.  Charles Ashbee was prescient in seeing Chicago’s unique approach to arts and crafts in the acceptance of the machine and the attempt to humanize the product and the production so that worker and consumer would benefit rather than suffer from technology.

Searching for a Way to Democratize Arts and Crafts

Jane Addams and Ellen Starr were never satisfied with the programs Hull-House had established in the humanities, the fine, arts, and the performing arts. The major goal was to democratize culture as a necessary stage in the evolution of society. This meant devising ways to transmit quality humanities education outside of universities to the working people in their neighborhoods and to the public schools.[12]

Black-and-white sketch of a workshop corner with a stove, shelves of books, framed art, and various tools. Caption describes it as Ellen Gates Starrโ€™s book bindery at Hull-House Labor Museum, around 1902.

Ellen Gates Starrโ€™s evolving pursuits in the labor movement and in the shops modeled this conception more than any of the other resident artists. She was also the resident who experienced the most inner turmoil and conflict over the relationship of art and labor. Initially Starr followed the arts and crafts movement closely. She began bookbinding “with the goal of unifying mental and manual labor and contributing in some small way to the beauty of objects” and in pursuit of this goal she spent a total of 15 monthsโ€”12 in 1897 and 3 in 1899โ€”at Doves Bindery in England, where she was one of the few American women to apprentice with T. J. Cobden-Sanderson.”[13]

Ellen Starr was a discordant voice from the start. She did not agree completely with the direction that Hull-House settlement was taking. It seemed Starr almost immediately felt the contradictions that Addams later alluded to when she wrote “how difficult it . . . [was] to put a fringe of art on the end of a day spent in a factory.”[14] Ironically, the contradictions were to become most obvious to Starr in the way her own work in the Labor Museumโ€™s book bindery seemed at times irrelevant to her actual labor union activities and socialist politics. She rationalized that her work provided opportunity, albeit limited, to illustrate products of unalienated work and that in her bindery she was demonstrating work done in the โ€œโ€™spirit of the futureโ€™โ€”that is, in a spirit allowing for self-expression.โ€ [15] In 1892, Starr had accused Hull-House of being merely “an excuse for the things we ought to do and be and don’t and aren’t.”[16] She worried about the contradictions of offering bourgeois culture to workers but not sharing power with them. “If we don’t wish working people to stand upon the same ground with us, if we believe that there is an eternal distinction, if we believe in caste, no matter how we disguise it, then why shouldn’t we let them alone? Why insult people by saying to them, ‘you are different, you will be different always, you can never be as we, knowing false and true, beautiful and ugly, but we wish to be kind to you, we want you to enjoy in your poor capacity, what you are capable of enjoying, and so we come and give you this and this.'”[17]

Four black-and-white photos: Ellen Starrs campaign card; Starr at a desk being booked by Chicago Police; Starr working in a bindery; Mary Kelly, her apprentice, also in the bindery.

Starr’s 1895 contribution, “Art and Labor,” discussed earlier, was anti-capitalist and anti-modernist in tone.  Starr had warned that it was not enough to fight for wages, you had also to fight for the soul of man against the commercial and industrial world that was crushing him. She was uncomfortable with an elitist argument that an educated and cultivated class should guide the tastes of the uncultivated but succumbed to such an arrangement. The Chicago Public School Art Society, born out of Starrโ€™s determination to bring objects of beauty into all the places she could, was a top-down organization that assumed the role of arbiter of taste and disseminator of bourgeois art. The activities in the Labor Museum, the arrangement of artifacts, and the interpretation of the presentations were controlled by Hull-House residents and staff.

Two black-and-white photos show old workshop rooms with wooden beams, chairs, and worktables, displaying equipment and tools. Caption reads: The Labor Museum and Industrial Shops.

Starr’s own complicated feelings about her loyalties surfaced as she began to feel a closer relationship to the working class and to those bright, ambitious young men and women who were attempting to better themselves. One of the great differences between Addams and Starr was that of their class positions. Issues of financial dependence had plagued Starr from her college days when she was able to complete only one year while Addams remained to finish college. Starr taught school and dreamt of more ambitious plans living on her own in the big city of Chicago.  Jane always had the upper hand as a young woman of wealth and superior rank. The imbalance and dependency between them was understood by both women.โ€[18]

Addams drifted toward institution-building, an interest not shared by Starr whose bindery room seemed to offer scant comfort but, rather, felt incomplete as she imagined a socialist cooperative workshop buzzing with activity. Starrโ€™s frustrations with teaching bookbinding and with the slow progress made in advancing the overall cultural and economic interests of the working class were further exacerbated by her basic disagreement with Addams about the need for revolutionary change in the social system. For Starr, nothing short of a religiously-inspired radical conversion to communitarian or socialist values would address the deep injustices caused by capitalism. Like her hero, William Morris, Starr married her own artistic expression and belief in socialism only to find that the contradictions were too dramatic.  Expensive materials and long yearsโ€™ training achieved great art at a cost beyond the means of workers. Ultimately, Starr was only able to train a handful of students in the craft[19] and the cultural world inhabited by artists and artisans in which she traveled and in which she exhibited her decorative and expensive rare books was becoming increasingly more remote from the picket lines she also inhabited in support of striking garment workers and waitresses.[20] 

A collage shows people spinning and weaving in a textile room with various traditional machines. The central photo is a large workshop; surrounding images show individuals using spinning wheels and looms.

Starrโ€™s discomfort with the contradictions that were expressed in the way the settlement movement developed did not cause her to break with Addams, or to give up fine art book binding or even change her ideas about cultural pedagogy.[21] As historian Suellen Hoy informs us “Until she closed her bindery in the 1920s, Starr earned a good part of her living by binding and ornamenting books.” [22]

At the same time her radicalism was becoming more public. On March 6, 1914, at age fifty-five, Starr was arrested and brought to trial on a charge of disorderly conduct stemming from her behavior on the picket line at a waitresses’ strike in Chicago.[23] She had shouted at the police, who she believed had unjustly arrested three waitresses on picket duty, “I am a citizen and as such protest this arrest.”  The crowd became excited and it was reported that they shouted: “Kill the police.”  After eight hoursโ€™ deliberation, a jury found her innocent.[24]

Starrโ€™s plunge into a deeper and more catholic devotional life that served to pull her out of recurring emotional depressions, was also an expression of her lifelong search for fellowship and salvation.[25] In contrast to Addams, Starr was searching for something close to a sacramental community, a version of “social holiness” beyond “personal holiness” that would also reconcile her individuality as an artist with her desire to identify with workers.[26] Shortly after the Garment Workers’ Strike in 1910 Starr had joined the Socialist Party, and fit in with the Marxist, hard-line, predominantly immigrant organization. Although middle-class social workers were discouraged from joining, by 1915 Starr was serving on the Cook County Socialist Party’s executive committee.[27]

She did this even while deepening her commitment to Christianity. For Starr, her labor union radicalism seemed to draw her more deeply into her faith, or perhaps, the arduous task of standing up for the workers against the wealthy and powerful could only be endured by her through the strength of her religious convictions. It was her vision of the implementation of the social gospel here on earth that continued to inspire and sustain her as much as the realities of oppressive conditions stirred her rebellion. She ran unsuccessfully for alderman of the Nineteenth Ward as a socialist in 1916.

Jane Addams and Industrial Education: Contextualizing Factory Work and Elevating Craft at the Labor Museum

Starr remained conflicted about the craftsman ideal and attempts at cultural expression by working people in the top-down and controlled atmosphere of Hull-House and moved further into the trenches of class warfare. Addams moved toward institutionalizing cultural production and the settlement ideal of social amelioration as the answer to industrial conflict. She identified this as much more than the conflict between labor and capital in the workplace. Addams saw the disintegration of traditional family life, especially among immigrants, as intergenerational conflict exacerbated by the too-early employment of children and adolescents, and further negatively impacted by the attractions of popular culture. The museumโ€™s workrooms and classes became models she used in advocating industrial and vocational education.

Addams was critical of the public schools and she questioned whether anything had been done to give boys who stayed in school until the required age of fourteen a consciousness of their social value. Instead she envisioned public schools as social centers that dealt with the larger issue of socializing work. She lobbied for curriculum to bridge the gap between traditional customs and youthโ€™s embrace of popular culture by valorizing craftsmanship, folk music and dance, and theater of the immigrant generation and developing historical perspective while at the same time learning science, hygiene, and household skills for urban living. [28]

Work was at the center of the Labor Museum not as an antiquarian obsession with craft, as latter-day pro-labor New Dealers[29] would contend, but as an approach to socialize and humanize industrial occupations.  Addams had become aware of the realities of workersโ€™ familiesโ€™ lives just as Starr. Central to her concern was the woeful inadequacy of educational preparation for workersโ€™ children.[30] Workersโ€™ children rarely attended high schools and for students who had no intention of attending college, high schools offered little in the way of training for jobs anyway. At the same time, families encouraged their post-grammar school sons and daughters to find whatever work was available. To Addams the long-range outcomes of this custom were dire, consigning young people to lives of insecure employment, low wages, and the sort of hollowness of spirit that led to negative habits and even criminal activity as the culture of the streets provided gratification.[31]

Three black-and-white photos of people weaving on looms, illustrating younger generations engaging in traditional weaving practices from diverse cultures.
A woman operates a spinning wheel while a man stands beside a large loom with woven fabric, in a workshop with patterned textiles hanging on the wall.

Classes and apprenticeship training became important pieces of the programs offered at Hull-House, part of a complicated equation that balanced demonstrations by immigrants โ€œperformedโ€ to develop intergenerational understanding and respect of old world customs with the new vocational knowledge that aided first and second generation daughters and sons to enter the American economic system. Addamsโ€™s views of vocational guidance and industrial curriculum differed from both the plans put forward by business interests and those developed by organized labor precisely in this idea of connecting current skill learning with the history and art of craft. [32] 

 Instead Addams incorporated the immigrant women and men who regularly “performed” their artistry and crafts in the Labor Museum, in the education of young boys and girls. This was an innovation pedagogically. The elders took on young men and women as “apprentices.”  The products of the work were made available for sale, with the same split between the House and the artisan.  There are no statistics to measure how much any artisan “earned” or how many students transitioned into a permanent industrial job.  The dissemination of the craftsman ideal to the youth of the neighborhood was much more important to Addams than running industrial shops that saw a profit or adapting youth to fit the specific employment needs of industry. [33]

Three black and white photos show people engaged in hands-on industrial and arts education, with a quote highlighting Jane Addams support for vocational learning and crafts in the humanities context.

The Labor Museum and Industrial Shops were inaugurated by Addams at the peak of the arts and crafts movement in Chicago and at a time when โ€œexhibitionโ€ to educate the public on industrial conditions, model housing, and municipal planning was a key strategy of reformers and practitioners of the new fields of sanitation, urban planning, and public health.[34] It was also a period in which middle-class native born Americans were not convinced that the โ€œNew Immigrantsโ€ were assimilable. The charts that demonstrated the continuity and similarity of craft in the history of industry also depicted universality among the different ethnic groups whose techniques were both culturally specific and part of the universal story. There was a positive response from middle-class visitors, a key piece in Addamsโ€™s agenda.  Addams expanded programs, added classes, and collected more artifacts and encouraged the collaboration of all the other departments of the settlement house in this pursuit of an educational medium that would successfully connect immigrants and their children in a positive way to the long history of industrialism, and as well, connect Americans with their new neighbors.

Two people place bricks into a large kiln at Hull-House, preparing it for production. Stacks of bricks are in front of the kiln, and one person is looking inside while the other hands over a brick.

Hull-House used art to advocate for democratic principles, to teach democratic values by living up to the highest standards of conduct with respect to the rights of others; and to encourage the broadest, most inclusive cultural as well as civic engagement of the whole community.  Long before the New Deal programs for theater and art inaugurated a period of intense public support for the arts in a democracy, Addams critiqued the narrow eighteenth century notion of democracy as being equated almost entirely with representation through voting, and sought to make democracy relevant to the cultural needs of the masses.

A man stands behind a table displaying handcrafted pottery, including bowls and a decorative plate, in a workshop. Text below describes Mexican artisans teaching pottery at Hull-House in 1927.
Assorted colorful ceramic bowls and pots are arranged in a group. A caption explains their origin and connection to Fiesta Ware.

[1] Here I have not the time to interrogate the authenticity of traditional craftwork of the neighbors. In my chapters in Eleanor Smith’s Hull House Songs: The Music of Protest and Hope in Jane Addams’s Chicago co-authored with Graham Cassano and Jennifer Payette (Chicago: Haymarket,  2020), I deal with the more complicated performance of craft that went on. I called it constructed craftsmanship. See, Eleanor Smith, 278.

[2] William T. Stead, If Christ Came to Chicago: A Plea for the Union of All who Love in the Service of All who Suffer (Review of Reviews: 1894).

[3] Graham Cassano, Rima Lunin Schultz, and Jessica Payette, Eleanor Smith’s Hull House Songs: The Music of Protest and Hope in Jane Addams’s Chicago (Chicago: Haymarket, 2020), 170.

[4] Nancy E. Green, Byrdcliffe: An American Arts and Crafts Colony. Ithaca, New York: Herbert F. Johnson Museum of Art, Cornell University, 2004 catalog, 231.

[5] โ€œFrom Sweden to Woodstock: The Art and Career of Carl Eric Lindinโ€ by Tom Wolf. Catalogue: David Cook Fine Art, Denver, Colorado, 2005, 5.

[6] “From Sweden to Woodstock” 5-10. In 1904 Lindin exhibited thirty-two paintings at the Art Institute of Chicago. He married Louise Hastings in 1911; she was the daughter of a wealthy banker and civil engineer and was part of the Hull-House circle. She learned bookbinding from Ellen Starr. Carl and Louise wed at Hull-House. (Wolf, 10.) Louise Lindin worked on her bookbinding as well as weaving and sewing. (Wolf, 11.)โ€œIn 1911 he [Lindin] had an exhibition at the Art Institute of Chicago consisting of thirty-eight paintings, all landscapes.โ€ (12) In 1923 and 1924 Carl and Louise spent the winters in Ojai, California, where they taught at the Ojai Valley School, founded by their old Hull-House friend, Ed Yeomans.  (Wolf, 16.) Note: Lindin painted a portrait of Jane Addams and also one of Hervey White.

[7] Listed “In Memoriam,” Hull-House Residents 1889-1929. Note: Bruce Robert Kahler, “Art and Life: The Arts and Crafts Movement in Chicago, 1897-1910,” Ph.D. Dissertation, Purdue University, August 1986, lists Twose as the secretary of the Arts and Crafts Society. However, Eileen Boris, Art and Labor, says that George Twose was the society’s first president (pp. 45-46) and that its secretary was Ellen [Ella Raymond] Waite.

[8] In 1906, she was recruited by Dr Wilfred Grenfell, the medical missionary, to teach weaving to women at St Anthony, a small community at the northern tip of Newfoundland, and for four years she painstakingly laid the groundwork for a variety of craft industries. Jessie Luther at the Grenfell Mission is an annotated edition of a travel journal that Luther wrote from 1906 to 1910. Edited by Ronald Rompkey, author of the most authoritative biography of Grenfell, Luther’s journal provides an unusually intimate account of Wilfred Grenfell during these four years.

[9] “Occupations of the Residents of Hull-House,” 1935-36. She is listed in Hull-House Yearbook Forty-Fifth Year.

[10]

[11] Vincent L. Michael, “Recovering the Layout of the Hull House Complex,” Urban Experience in Chicago: Touring the Buildings: Inside The Complex, http://www.uic.edu/jaddams/hull/urbanexp (Urban Experience in Chicago: Hull-House and Its Neighborhoods, 1889-1963, Jane Addams Hull-House Museum website, UIC.

[12] Jane Addams, โ€œLabor Museum at Hull House,โ€ Current Literature Oct. 1900, Vol. XXIX, No. 4; American Periodicals Online, p. 423.

[13] Mary Ann Stankiewiez, “Art at Hull House, 1889-1901: Jane Addams and Ellen Gates Starr.” Woman’s Art Journal (Spring-Summer 1989), vol. 10, No. 1, 37.

[14] Jane Addams, Twenty Years, 375. Addams, however, proudly displayed the arts and crafts produced in the shops at the 3rd annual exhibit of arts and crafts held at the Chicago Art Institute: Catalogue, Third Annual Exhibition of Original Designs for Decorations and Examples of Art Crafts having Distinct Artistic Merit, The Art Institute of Chicago, December 6 to December 21, 1904, 53-55.

[15] Starr quoted in Eileen Boris, Art and Labor: Ruskin, Morris, and the Craftsman Ideal in America (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1986), 180.

[16] Elizabeth Palmer Carrell, “Reflections in a Mirror: The Progressive Woman and the Settlement Experience,” Ph.D. dissertation, The University of Texas at Austin, 1981, 30.

[17] “Chicago’s Hull House.” Report on an Address by Ellen Starr, 1895, Hull-House Scrapbook, III, JAMC, Spec. Col. Daley Library, UIC.

[18] โ€œI have thought of the possibility of my dying [before] the experiment [Hull-House settlement] is in full sway,โ€ Addams wrote her sister Alice. โ€œAs Ellen has given up her regular teaching and trusts all her future to the affair, I should like her to be given $1500.00 enough to support her for a year or more until she could get back into her regular work. I have now made a will and . . . know you would see to that for me.โ€[18] Jane Addams to Sarah Alice Addams Haldeman, August 31, 1889, JAP reel 2-1079-1080.

[19] In 1904 Starrโ€™s pupils Peter Verburg and Mary Kelley exhibited bound volumes: Catalogue, Third Annual Exhibition of Original Designs for Decorations and Examples of Art Crafts having Distinct Artistic Merit, The Art Institute of Chicago, December 6 to December 21, 1904, 53-55.

[20] Starr was one of the founding members of the Chicago Society of Arts and Crafts. Eileen Boris, Art and Labor: Ruskin, Morris, and the Craftsman Ideal in America (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1986), 33, 45-46. When the arts and crafts community, Byrdcliffe, was established in Woodstock, New York, in 1902, Starr was a visitor. Nancy E. Green, โ€œByrdcliffe and the โ€˜Dream of Somewhere,โ€™โ€ The Journal of the Decorative Arts Society 1850 โ€“the Present. No. 28, ARTS & CRAFTS ISSUE (2004), pp. 56-81.

[21] Starr reconciled to her displacement by Mary Rozet Smith as Addamsโ€™s partner and remained in residence at Hull-House until 1930, when illness forced her to relocate. Even then Addams and Starr remained deeply attached. Rima L. Schultz, โ€œSmith, Mary Rozet,โ€ in Women Building Chicago, 817-819.

[22] “Fine Work in Binding Books,” Chicago Chronicle, Apr. 22, 1900, 19; Suellen Hoy, Ellen Gates Starr. Her Later Years (Chicago: Chicago History Museum, 2010,) 5-7.  Starr was a talented bookbinder and her work was exhibited along with the top artisans in the field. One of her best students, Peter Verburg, went on to have an outstanding career. Boris, 181.

[23] This was the Waitressesโ€™ union strikes against the downtown Chicago popular restaurant, Henriciโ€™s, that began in February of 1914: โ€œGirl Pickets Open Boycott Fight on 35 Cafes in Loop,โ€ Chicago Tribune, Feb. 6, 1014, pg. 13; โ€œEllen G. Starrโ€™s Trial on Today,โ€ Chicago Tribune, March 4, 1914, pg. 7. Suellen Hoy indicates Starrโ€™s public activism troubled her fellow Hull-House residents. Suellen Hoy, Ellen Gates Starr. Her Later Years (Chicago: Chicago History Museum, 2010), 16-17.

[24] Carrell, 357-358. Lila Weinberg, โ€œWilmarth, Mary J. Hawes, โ€œin Women Building Chicago, 982-986.

[25] Carrell, “Reflections in a Mirror,โ€ 398-400.  Starr to Wager, Hull-House, Feb. 12, 1917, Ellen Gates Starr Papers, Sophia Smith Collection, Box VIII, Smith College.  Among her periods of depression, in 1896, after a garment workersโ€™ strike, the first in which she was actively involved, Starr became exhausted and left for New York for a prolonged period. In 1907 she collapsed from nervous exhaustion, spent a month in a sanitarium, and spent 1908 abroad, living in relative isolation on a farm in Ireland. For her conversion to Roman Catholicism, see: Starr, “A Bypath into the Great Roadway,” Catholic World vol. 119, May 1924.

[26] Ellen G.  Starr, “College Settlement Work: Hull-House,โ€ 4th paper published by the Society of the Companions of the Holy Cross [Adelynrood, Byfield, Massachusetts: 1895], 1-3. Starr most likely was disappointed in the other group to which she attempted to meld art and labor: the Chicago Society of Arts and Crafts. Historian Eileen Boris found that “By 1910 it [the Chicago Society for Arts and Crafts] had dwindled to 26 members, who concentrated on running their own studio-shops rather than promoting cooperative ventures. Crafts workers increasingly were alumni of the School of the Art Institute, which had replaced Hull House as the center of the movement in Chicago. With this shift, the craftsโ€”while flourishing as profession, personal avocation, and part of an appealing lifestyleโ€”lost their more intimate relation to the reform impulse.” Boris, Art and Labor, p. 51.

[27] Carrell, 357.

[28] Elizabeth Fones-Wolf, โ€œThe Politics of Vocationalism: Coalitions and Industrial Education in the Progressive Era,โ€ The Historian, Vol. 46, No. 1 (November 1983), 43.

[29] Charlotte E. Carr, headed Hull-House from 1937 to 1942, at the height of the settlement houseโ€™s engagement with the New Deal Popular Front and Cultural Front movements. Discussion of these developments follows.

[30] Addams was so concerned about the fate of young girls, fourteen years and older, that in 1912 the Hull-House Trade School for Girls was opened and used the area of the industrial shops and other classrooms. Dressmaking was emphasized and girls were placed in dress-making shops after completing a summer course. By 1915 a new department, The Hull-House Design Shop, prepared girls to work in childrenโ€™s clothes shops. Anne S. Davis, โ€œThe Hull-House Trade School for Girls,โ€ The Educational Bi-monthly, 207-208.

[31] Jane Addams, The Spirit of Youth and the City Streets (New York: The Macmillan Company, 1909), 107.

[32] Washburne, 571.

[33] Washburne, 571. Eileen Boris, Art and Labor: Ruskin, Morris, and the Craftsman Ideal in America (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1986).

[34] The 1893 Columbian Exposition, the Tenement House Exhibit of 1900 (New York City), the Chicago Child Welfare Exhibit in 1911, just to name a few.  Addams was one of the jurors at the Paris Exposition of 1900 where she attended the lectures given by evolutionary sociologist Patrick Geddes, accredited with pioneering urban planning and took great interest in his exhibit. She had met him before and he had visited Hull-House during a lecture tour of the U.S.  Jane Addams to Mary Rozet Smith, Paris, France, June 14, 1900, Swarthmore College Peace Collection Jane Addams Papers Series 1, JAP reel 3-1585-1588; Jane Addams to Mary Rozet Smith, Paris, France, June 27, 1900, Swarthmore College Peace Collection Jane Addams Papers series 1, JAP reel 3-1597-1601; Geddes work was known to Addams. Iโ€™m not sure when they met for the first time.

Guest Post: Jane Addamsโ€™ Pragmatist Theories of Democracy and Education

A black-and-white photo of a large group of men and one woman seated at tables in a formal setting, possibly a classroom or meeting room, with papers and books in front of them.

This is a guest post, written by Parysa Mostajir, a Teaching Fellow in Conceptual and Historical Studies of Science at the University of Chicago. She is currently researching the role of experience in diverse human practices like science, art, and democracy, and setting up an academic blog, Woman is a Rational Animal,ย dedicated to diversifying syllabi in the history of ideas.

 

Jane Addams is deservedly well-known for her tireless activism, having spent her life engaged in efforts to improve her society: She served on the boards of national and international organizations like the International Association for Labor Legislation, she campaigned for the rights of women, children, and workers, and she offered educational, recreational, and organizational resources to the immigrant communities surrounding Hull House. Although she spent most of her time in the world of action rather than the world of ideas, fewer people (including philosophers) give Jane Addams due credit for her role in developing a philosophical movement called โ€˜pragmatism.โ€™

A man with glasses and a mustache sits in an armchair, holding a stack of papers on his lap. He rests his head on one hand, and a tall statue is visible behind him. The scene appears to be from an old photograph or painting.
John Dewey (Wikimedia Commons)

Jane Addams was admired by some of the most celebrated pragmatist philosophers of her time, including John Dewey, George Herbert Mead, and William James. The correspondence of these professors at the University of Chicago and Harvard University, show that they recognized Addams as an imposing intellect from whom they had much to learn. In a 1908 letter on the Jane Addams Paper Project Digital Edition, George Herbert Mead describes โ€œhow deep an impressionโ€ Addamsโ€™ speech on โ€˜War and Progressโ€™ made on him and others in the audience. In a 1902 letter, William James describes Addamsโ€™ Democracy and Social Ethics as โ€œone of the great books of our timeโ€ and claims he โ€œlearned a lotโ€ from it. Deweyโ€™s correspondence reveals years of extensive visits and engagements with Hull House, during which he exchanged ideas with Jane Addams, the latter of whom he described as โ€œthe most magnificent exhibition of intellectual & moral faith I ever sawโ€ [1894.10.10 (00206): John Dewey to Alice Chipman Dewey]. He even attributed to Addams the first definite statement of the pragmatist thesis โ€œthat democracy means certain types of experience,โ€”an interest in experience in its various forms and typesโ€ [Volume 1: Political Philosophy, Logic, Ethics p. 2379].

An older woman in a dress sits outdoors on a ledge, surrounded by a group of children who are listening attentively. Other children sit in the background on a brick wall. The image is in black and white.
Jane Addams with Hull House children (ca. 1930)

So what is pragmatism, and how does Jane Addamsโ€™ work fit in? Pragmatism is a tradition of philosophy that began in the United States in the late 19th century and was characterized by several core beliefs to do with action and experience. Addamsโ€™ major contributions to the tradition of pragmatism were her theories of democracy and education, which contained substantial developments on these core principles of pragmatist philosophy. Pragmatists believed that knowledge and theories should be based on our practical experiences, and be constructed in such a way as to take our practical experiences into account. Most striking about Addamsโ€™ writings in philosophy is the extent to which she adhered to the pragmatist conviction that knowledge and theories should be consistent with practice. While other pragmatists were involved in practical applications of their theories, such as John Deweyโ€™s founding of the Laboratory School in Chicago, none of them were quite so embedded in everyday society as Jane Addams was at Hull House. Addamsโ€™ theories were derived from her practical activities at Hull House, instead of becoming lost in philosophical speculation. It was appropriate and inevitable, she wrote, that her experiences at Hull House would affect her convictions (Twenty Years, p. 308).

Pragmatists believed not only that theories should be derived from practical experiences, but that they should be applied to practical experiences in attempts to improve, enrich, and make sense of our lives. Unlike many contemporary philosophers who engaged in highly abstract theories having no relationship to the everyday world, pragmatists believed that theories gained their value by serving as instruments for empowering us to successfully take action in the worldโ€”this is the practical aspect of โ€˜pragmatism,โ€™ from which the tradition derives its name. As a pragmatist, Jane Addams therefore rejected the idea, popular among sociologists of her time, that settlements like Hull House were โ€˜laboratoriesโ€™ from which to derive pure theory (Deegan 1988, pp. 34-5; Twenty Years, p. 308). She wrote that her energies were directed โ€œnot towards sociological investigation, but to constructive workโ€ (Hull House Maps and Papers, pp. vii-viii). Her pragmatist goal was to use the knowledge she gained from her experiences at Hull House in the application of practical changes and improvements to society and the lives of the people she served, not to derive knowledge for its own sake or out of pure curiosity.

These core pragmatist convictions concerning knowledge, practice, and experience are evident in Addamsโ€™ theories of democracy and education. To begin with her theory of democracy, Addams did not believe that democracy was a matter of ticking a ballot box once every few years. In her celebrated book on Democracy and Social Ethics, she argued that democracy was not just โ€œa sentimentโ€ or โ€œa creed,โ€ but โ€œa rule of living,โ€ which needed to be integrated practically with peopleโ€™s everyday lives (Democracy and Social Ethics, p. 6). Many failures of contemporary democracy, she claimed, could be linked to the isolation of different sectors of society from each other, preventing familiarity with each otherโ€™s experiences. In order to resolve them and make our democracy more robust, we needed to ensure the connectedness of diverse types of people who shared the same society. For that reason, democracy could not be compartmentalized as a handful of remote political institutions, with the citizensโ€™ democratic participation reduced to a single act of casting a vote. Democracy had to be an active practice for all citizens, embedded in their lived experience as a way of life. This would only be achieved by โ€œmixingโ€ the diverse members of society together and giving them โ€œa wider acquaintance with and participation in the life about themโ€ (Democracy and Social Ethics, p. 5). Addams argued that it was through exposure to the different ways of life, struggles, and needs of the many people with whom we share our society that we can develop attitudes of sympathy, respect, and a democratic sense of moral obligation towards each other. For example, she mentioned the importance of newspaper and literature in giving people the chance โ€œto know all kinds of lifeโ€ (Democracy and Social Ethics, p. 8). This kind of โ€œdiversified human experience and resultant sympathyโ€ were, for Addams, โ€œthe foundation and guarantee of Democracyโ€ (Democracy and Social Ethics, p. 7).

Black and white scanned page titled A Modern Lear by Jane Addams, featuring an image of Pullman buildings before the 1894 strike, with decorative initials and text discussing the social climate in Chicago in 1894.
Jane Addams described her views of the Pullman Strike in her 1912 article, A Modern Lear.”

As a true pragmatist, concerned with the connection between theory and action, Addams based her theory of democracy on what she encountered in her practical experiences, and applied her theory of democracy to suggest resolutions to the problems she encountered. For example, Addams was involved in mediating the 1894 Pullman Strike in Chicago, in which the workers of a large factory went on strike to demand better wages. What Jane Addams saw in this conflict was a failure of the democratic practice of connecting with the experiences of others. Pullman, the owner of the factory, had built a town for the use of his factory employees, with parks and recreational facilities, believing that he was acting generously. The factory workers, on the other hand, resented the extension of Pullmanโ€™s control into the private lives. When the workers went on strike, Pullman was confused by their anger, and he felt that the factory workers were being ungrateful for the resources he had given them. In her philosophical work, Democracy and Social Ethics, Addams wrote that the โ€œgood deedsโ€ Pullman thought he was conducting were in fact incomplete, because they were not conducted democratically. By not โ€œcalling upon the workmen either for self-expression or self-government,โ€ he ended up lacking any familiarity with the experiences and desires of the workers (Democracy and Social Ethics, p. 143-4), and had operated undemocratically in making his decisions. โ€œTo attempt to attain a social morality,โ€ Addams wrote, โ€œwithout a basis of democratic experience results in the loss of the only possible corrective and guideโ€ for actionsโ€”the daily experiences of other human beings (Democracy and Social Ethics, p. 176).

Addamsโ€™ theory of education was also deeply pragmatist in its commitment to connecting educational experiences to the practices and experiences of the individuals being educated. At that time, it was common for people to assume that manual laborers had no need of general education. When education was sometimes offered as part of universitiesโ€™ charitable effortsโ€”for example, University Extension Programs which sent professors to give general courses to the working class on topics like evolution, astronomy, psychology (Twenty Years, Chapter XVIII), or philanthropists who supported children in receiving clerical educationโ€”the idea was that such education either gave laborers a temporary mental escape from the mundanity of their work, or gave them the opportunity to leave their lives as factory workers and enter into more respected professions. Such educators did not consider education as having any possible genuine connection to the ordinary lives of factory workers.

A black-and-white photo of a large group of men and one woman sitting at tables in a formal classroom or meeting room, looking toward the camera, with books and papers on the tables.
Hull House class on immigration, held at the Coffee House, 1920s (Wallace Kirkland, Jane Addams Memorial Collection, University of Illinois at Chicago)

Addams, unsurprisingly, rejected these assumptions. Her pragmatist theory of education was based on extensive practical experience providing educational resources to the working-class neighborhood surrounding Hull House. In Democracy and Social Ethics, she insisted that factory workers could, and should, be provided with education on topics like history and economics which directly connected to their everyday practical experiences. Because of the division of labor, industrial workers spent most of their waking life operating machinery and manufacturing products to which they had no connection. They had no opportunities to understand the history of the invention and development of the machines they operated; they did not know the uses to which the products were put; and they did not understand the sales and distribution aspects of the businesses they worked for. Addams argued that this contributed to the poor quality of life of industrial laborers, and that education in how they fit into the workings of society would help to improve and enrich their daily experiences of manual labor. If educators, the state, and business owners were to take the value of their employees seriously, they needed to provide them with opportunities to connect their own experiences with the wider social, economic, and historical processes of which their manual labor was an important part. Such education would allow workers to make sense of the significance, purpose, and utility of their work, and would positively alter their sense of self, and their estimation of their own worth. In this way, education could be used not as an escape (either as temporary mental relief from monotony, or as an opportunity to move into a different line of work), but as a way of connecting to the ordinary lives of factory workers in such a way as to improve, enrich, and make sense of their everyday practical experience.

Sepia-toned portrait of Jane Addams, circa 1910, showing her with short, wavy hair, a serious expression, and wearing a high-collared dress. Text in the bottom right corner reads, Jane Addams, ca. 1910.
Jane Addams, ca. 1910

Amidst her extensive social, political, and community work, Addams found time to write several books threaded with innovative philosophical ideas and play a key role in establishing the new, pragmatist philosophical tradition in the United Statesโ€”a tradition which was characterized by its beliefs in the importance of connecting knowledge with action, enriching individual experience, and solving social problems. Because Addams had so much experience taking action in the world, her philosophical writings are, more than any other pragmatist, threaded with connections to social, political, and economic problems, and filled with practical suggestions for how to ameliorate those problems. She remains one of the greatest examples of how our philosophical ideas can impact the practical approach we take to politics, economics, and culture, and how politics, economics, and culture can influence the development of ideas. In a time like ours, when universities are highly specialized and losing touch with the needs of wider society, we can look to Addams as a model public philosopher, who put her theories into action and let her real-life experiences guide her theories.

References:

Addams, Jane. Democracy and Social Ethics. New York, London: The Macmillan Company, 1907.

Addams, Jane. Twenty Years At Hull-house: With Autobiographical Notes. New York: The Macmillan Company, 1911.

Deegan, Mary Jo. Jane Addams and the Men of the Chicago School, 1892-1918. New Brunswick: Transaction Books, 1988.

Dewey, John. Lectures, Volume 1: Political Philosophy, Logic, Ethics. Ed. Koch, Donald F., and The Center for Dewey Studies, 2016.

Leading by Example: Hull-House, Jane Addams, and Social Change: Addams as a Political Woman

One of the major pieces of legislation that would forever change the landscape of workersโ€™ lives in the United States was the Social Security Act of 1935, passed just months after Jane Addamsโ€™s death.ย  The U.S. was a latecomer among industrial nations in developing a system of social insurance and Jane Addams had advocated for such a system from the 1890s. This story I am going to tell you about her connection to the billโ€™s passage reveals much about her theory and practice of democracy. In the spirit of Addams, it is an optimistic story about the arc of social change. It is the story of how the head of General Electric, Gerard Swope led a small minority of businessmen to provide crucial support for the passage of social security. Swope was a protรฉgรฉ of Jane Addams.

Sometime in the 1890s Gerard Swope, the son of well-to-do German Jews who owned a manufacturing plant in St. Louis, Missouri, was working his way up in management at the Western Electric plant in Chicago. Enos Barton, Western Electricโ€™s chairman had developed a close relationship with Jane Addams which shouldnโ€™t surprise us. He was one of the local industrialists Addams had made it her business to bring into her social circle at the settlement.

Living close also to the heart of Chicagoโ€™s garment industry, Hull-House threw itself into the then raging anti-sweatshop fight and welcomed the embryonic clothing workersโ€™ unions to the settlement. The liberal reform Governor of Illinois John Peter Altgeld, who had pardoned the Haymarket martyrs, had just appointed Hull-House resident Florence Kelley the Illinois Chief Factory Inspector. ย Kelley had studied in Germany and London where she had developed a friendship with Frederick Engels whose book on the English working class she had just translated from the German. Her familiarity with Marxist theory could be seen in her analysis of the sweatshop system in her Hull-House Maps & Papers chapters.

ย Western Electricโ€™s Barton found the atmosphere stimulating and encouraged his โ€œmost promising young menโ€ from the company to live at Hull-House as residents and sent Gerard Swope there. ย โ€œLet them see all they can of all kinds of people and of their requirements,โ€ Barton told Addams. โ€œIt would be the best possible preparation in this business of electricity which is pushing out so rapidly into so many new fields in response to the incredible variety of human needs.โ€[1]

Swope, a graduate of M.I.T., taught arithmetic and English at Hull-House in the evenings, paid his room and board, as Hull-House residency required, and entered fully into the communal activities of the group of residents. Swope soon became a mentor to an ambitious Russian Jewish immigrant, Philip Davis, later a labor leader sympathetic to the kind of mediation of labor conflicts Addams favored. Davis wanted help with his English. “Up to the time that I met [Gerard] Swope, I had associated only with workers and trade-unionists,โ€ Davis explained. โ€œTheir doctrine that all bosses were evil men and, by inference, that all trade-unionists were righteous, appeared absurd when I saw what sort of individual Swope was.โ€ [2]

In a few years Swope was given the responsibility of reorganizing Western Electricโ€™s factory.[3] When a strike threatened, Swope consulted with his Hull-House colleagues and took their advice to negotiate honestly with his workers.[4]

Moving up in the industry, as head of General Electric, Swope employed Dr. Alice Hamilton, who had done her earliest studies of industrial toxins while living at Hull-House, to oversee the environment of the GE factories. He began experimenting with stock options for his employees, another idea discussed at Hull-House. [5] 

Meanwhile Addams had become an advocate of more business and labor cooperation.[6] She even looked with hopeful anticipation of the globalization of American business.ย  Visiting General Electric plants in China and Japan she reported positively on the workers whose standard of living was being improved.[7]

 Swope privately unveiled his GE unemployment plan for employees to Addams in a letter that acknowledged her influence.[8]

And now to the end of the story of Swope and Social Security. In 1935 the National Chamber of Commerce voted to deny support for FDRโ€™s programs, including unemployment insurance and other aspects of the proposed social security legislation. Swope and a handful of industrialists broke with the Chamber, formed a subcommittee that voiced a minority opinion and offered their support to President Roosevelt. Swopeโ€™s advocacy of Social Security was, perhaps, the highest example of the kind of enlightened industrial relations Addams had envisioned and worked to achieve starting with her efforts in the 1890s when Hull-House had been the incubator of a new social citizenship.

Is the cup half empty or half full? Addams voiced her own misgivings and doubts in 1929 about her work and its results:

“We go on doing what we can in various ways in our Settlements, and some of the things have certainly proved their social utility. But there are moments when our hearts are covered with great doubt as to the basic thing itself as to what we might do as Settlement people to change perhaps the attitude towards immigrants, or towards poverty itself; towards industrial relations, towards dozens of things concerning which we are unhappy. And that, I imagine, is the mood that will at moments urge us all to the end of the chapter. And when we no longer have these moments I doubt whether we are fitted to go on, because, after all, it is our salvation, is it not, that we are continually filled with a holy discontent?” [9]

This is the Jane Addams less known. Almost seventy years old, she is self-reflective; besieged by critics for her wartime pacifism, and surveilled by the FBI in the postwar Red Scare for her defense of civil liberties and her support of international causes, she had not yet been awarded the Nobel Prize for Peace.

Personal defeats were not as important to Addams as the loss of the reform spirit and the attacks on liberal policies and progressive social programs. Undaunted, an aging Addams rallied her allies to expand their work rather than retreat and the founding of the Womenโ€™s International League for Peace and Freedom was built by women who had participated in domestic social justice initiatives for decades; now they awakened to a global perspective.

Addams feared that postwar social and political conditions were planting seeds for the next conflict. Rebuked by an increasingly hostile press, Addams challenged the rise of militarism, the KKK, government suppression of free speech, immigration quotas and the deportation of thousands. She called out the hypocrisy of the justice system that protected Jim Crow violence: โ€œOur own States Attorneyโ€ Addams wrote in a letter to the Chicago Tribune in February 1920, ย โ€œ who โ€ฆmade numerous arrests [of radicals and aliens] โ€ฆ never caused to be arrested nor indicted a single person connected with the throwing of twenty bombs in Chicago during the last eight months, bombs which had been planted in order to destroy the homes of colored people or of white men who had rented houses to colored people.โ€ [10] ย 

Much of what Addams hoped to achieve remains unfinished. But pathways were laid out by 1935 the year she died.

She had argued that what was missing in democracy was the social expression of democratic living—and to get beyond the antiquated notion of politics imbedded in a limited, unrepresentative and corrupt system, she and others had to get back to the people and redefine social relations; she also realized that the pressures of a cosmopolitan neighborhood seemed to be the simple and inevitable foundations for an international order. ย She had transcended boundaries of class, gender, nationalities, religions in the expression of a new social citizenship expressed by Swope.

Yet she lived in a segregated world and neighborhood no matter how much she was able, from time to time, to construct interracial space and promote interracial social intercourse. In the postwar era when she failed in her own eyes to prioritize racism, a failure to which she admitted in The Second Twenty Years at Hull-House, it was in large part a failure of her not finding ways to overcome the cultural, social, and political segregation in which all Americans lived and to a large extent still do. ย 

She went into the hospital for the last time in May 1935, knowing the deteriorating situation in Europe. At home she was working on a deal with her old friend and ally Secretary of the Interior Harold Ickes to locate one of the first public housing projects in her Hull-House neighborhood, finally she believed, dealing with the slums she had mapped more than forty years before. And she knew there was a good chance that social security was about to be realized.

Returning finally to Addams as Political Woman writ large, her skill in redefining the roles of men and women in her reform circles was undogmatic and liberating for both sexes. It made her unique among leaders of the womanโ€™s suffrage movement, and often controversial, especially in her view of how to be nonpartisan.ย  Addams made waves when she seconded Theodore Rooseveltโ€™s nomination as the presidential candidate of the Progressive โ€œBull Mooseโ€ Party in 1912 and simultaneously remained vice president of the suffrage association pledged to nonpartisanship. Her undogmatic, nonideological decision to risk support of the imperfect candidacy of TR related to her understanding of social progress. He was a racist, a militarist, an imperialist. Yet Addamsโ€™s social settlement and suffrage networks converged to become a dominant influence in the Progressive Party platform. She saw the opportunity for dissemination of social policy ideas nationally. From our standpoint, and from hersโ€”as she looked back, Addams fell short, however, in her goal of fully democratizing the social policy discourse in which she did her political work.ย  She had not been able to bring Blacks fully into the social circle and into full political empowerment. This is a message to us. It reminds us how hard the struggle to live democratically was for Jane Addams and is for us today. And it calls us to ask who has not yet been brought into the circle.


[1] Jane Addams, The Second Twenty Years at Hull-House (New York: The Macmillan Company, 1930), 394.

[2] Philip Davis, And Crown Thy Good (New York: Philosophical Library, 1952), 89-90.

[3] Ellis W. Hawley, โ€œSwope, Gerard,โ€ Dictionary of American Biography, John A. Garraty, editor (New York: Charles Scribnerโ€™s Sons, 1980), Supplement Six, 614.

[4] David Loth, Swope of G.E. (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1958), 58-59.

[5] โ€œEmployes [sic]to Help Manage Business of Electric Co.โ€ Chicago Tribune, Feb. 17, 1923, pg. 16; โ€œFinancial Notes.โ€ Chicago Tribune, Aug. 5, 1923, pg. A10.

[6] Ibid.. 391.

[7] Ibid., 396.

[8] Gerard Swope to Jane Addams, December 10, 1930, Swarthmore College Peace Collection,  Jane Addams Papers, Series 1 in JAMC (reel 21-1443-1447), Special Collections, Richard J. Daley Library, The University of Illinois at Chicago.

[9] โ€œThe Settlement as a Way of Life.โ€ Addresses by Jane Addams, Mary E. McDowell, Graham Taylor. Neighborhood 2, no. 3 (July 1929), 145-146. [Bold added.]

[10] Jane Addams wrote a Letter to the Editor of the Chicago Tribune protesting โ€œagainst the flagrant misrepresentation in the report of my address as given in this morningโ€™s Tribune [Feb. 23]โ€ and this letter appeared on Feb. 24,, 1920 in the paper under the column, โ€œVoice of the People.โ€

Each for Equal: International Women’s Day 2020

A group of six women in early 1900s attire stand on a cobblestone street holding signs and a banner advocating for womens suffrage, with buildings and a car in the background.

Each for Equal

This year’s International Women’s Day theme is #EachforEqual; an equal world is an enabled world. There are many women we could discuss today: Jane Addams, of course, for her work in the immigrant communities of Chicago, among many other areas she championed in the name of equality. Carrie Chapman Catt, who heavily campaigned for women’s suffrage rights. Lillian D. Wald, who taught women valuable skills out of the Henry Street Settlement. And Emily Greene Balch, a staunch supporter of peace as a central leader in the Women’s International League for Peace and Freedom. But there is, I believe, a group of women whom we often forget to include when discussing Addams, especially her work for peace — the women who aided Addams outside the United States.

It is easy to forget that many of Addams’s contemporaries were

A group of six women in early 1900s attire stand on a cobblestone street holding signs and a banner advocating for womens suffrage, with buildings and a car in the background.
Vereeniging voor Vrouwenkiesrecht (Society for Women’s Suffrage) Officers, 1914. Aletta Henriรซtte Jacobs, third from left.

located outside the United States. Dr. Aletta Henriรซtte Jacobs, a Dutch physician and suffrage activist, had multiple achievements to her name, including her life-long struggle for women’s equality. Jacobs was the first woman to attend a Dutch university, inspired by her father, physician Abraham Jacobs. Jacobs became a pharmacy assistant, continuing on to University of Groningen. In 1879, Jacobs set up a practice in Amsterdam, offering free appointments to poor residents, struggling to maintain large families. In a controversial move, in 1882 Jacobs offered birth control advice at her clinic, the first clinic ever to do so in the world. She paved the way for Dutch women to seek an education outside finishing school, and control the size of their families, lowering the infant mortality rate and improving women’s health in the process.

Chrystal Macmillan was a British pioneer, one of the first woman to graduate from the University Edinburgh in 1896 then finishing her studies in Berlin and Edinburgh. MacMillan fought for women’s rights at Edinburgh University. When World War I began, Macmillan threw her energies into providing food for Belgian refugees. Her staunch pacifist views made her a leader in

the English movement against war, and brought her into the international drive to end war. Macmillan was one of only three British women who attended the 1915 International Congress of Women and throughout the war worked for peace and a negotiated settlement. In March of 1919, Macmillan attempted to lessen the surrender terms to be implemented for Germany in the Treaty of Versailles, but no changes were made. Chrystal Macmillan dedicated her life to the equality and fair treatment of women and oppressed peoples, regardless of their country of origin.

A group of women sit at a long table covered with a cloth and flowers, with large palm plants behind them, suggesting a formal gathering or conference.
International Congress of Women, 1915. Library of the London School of Economics and Political Science

Rosika Schwimmer, a Jewish-Hungarian activist, was a powerhouse in the peace movement; her unswerving belief in peace and women’s equality were seen by some as abrasive and they found her difficult to work with. Before becoming a peace activist, Schwimmer worked as a governess, and bookkeeper, a correspondence clerk, and finally became president of the Nล‘tisztviselล‘k Orszรกgos Egyesรผlete (National Association of Women Office Workers), in 1901. After an international mentorship with American suffragist Carrie Chapman Catt, Schwimmer returned to Hungary, founding the Hungarian Feministรกk Egyesรผlete (Feminist Association). Their goals included equality for women in education, employment, and healthcare. Schwimmer was a driving force in the efforts to stop World War I. She convinced Henry Ford to mount a peace mission in 1915, and attended meetings to the Women’s Peace Party and the International Congress of Women in 1915. Schwimmer fought against anti-Semitism and sexism during the early twentieth century to secure better living conditions for Hungarian women and beyond.

With so much history right here in the United States, it’s easy to push international affairs out of our minds, preferring to learn about our own country’s struggles. But, as Jane Addams and her contemporaries have shown, the fight for equality for women encompasses is an international fight and women need to keep working until equality has been secured for all. As Addams wrote: “The good we secure for ourselves is precarious and uncertain until it is secured for all of us and incorporated into our common life.” This International Women’s Day, we remember the women working abroad for the equality of women worldwide.

— Victoria Sciancalepore, Assistant Editor

Further Reading:

International Women’s Day 2020 #EachforEqual

Women in Medicine: An Encyclopedia, Laura Lynn Windsor

Women at the Hague: The International Congress of Women and its Results; Jane Addams, Emily Greene Balch, Alice Hamilton

Rosika Schwimmer, SNAC

 

Fame, Love, and Murder: The Story of Actress Mary Miles Minter

Black and white portrait of a young woman with wavy, light-colored hair, gazing slightly to the side. Soft lighting highlights her delicate features and creates a vintage, classic atmosphere.

by Sara Catherine Lichon.

A young woman with wavy, light-colored hair gazes softly into the distance. She is wearing a light, sheer blouse and resting her folded hands on a surface, illuminated by soft, gentle light.
Mary Miles Minter, silent film star and suspect in her lover’s 1922 murder.

Sometimes the stories and scandals of celebrities come up when researching for the JAPP. Oftentimes, the famous are only mentioned briefly in one of Addams’ letters, and their scandals become known when we research their lives to write their biographies. Continue reading “Fame, Love, and Murder: The Story of Actress Mary Miles Minter”

Jane Addams, Ida B. Wells, and Racial Injustice in America

A black-and-white portrait of a woman with short, graying hair, wearing a pearl necklace and a dark garment, looking slightly to the side with a calm expression.

A black-and-white portrait of a woman with short, graying hair, wearing a pearl necklace and a dark garment, looking slightly to the side with a calm expression.

Jane Addams made the acquaintance of renown African-American journalist and civil rights activist Ida B. Wells sometime in the 1890s, but in the summer of 1899 these two extraordinary women joined forces. In Chicago, each was engaged in different but overlapping endeavors to make the world a better place, but thinking about the two of them working together reinforces my fascination with the past. Continue reading “Jane Addams, Ida B. Wells, and Racial Injustice in America”

The Tragic Case of Baby Bollinger

Black and white newspaper clipping with headline: Hes Going to Let Her Baby Die; This Woman Says Its for Best. Features portraits of Dr. H.F. Haiselden and Mrs. Anna Bollinger facing each other.

A woman lies in a hospital bed while a man in a suit sits beside her, holding her hand. The caption identifies them as key figures in a controversial case involving the death of an infant in Chicago.
Photo of Anna Bollinger and Henry Haiselden, Chicago Tribune, March 31, 1917.

A little over 100 years ago, the case of an infant allowed to die in a Chicago hospital captured the nation’s attention. Born on November 12, 1915, “Baby Bollinger” died five days later on November 17, after physician Harry Haiselden refused to operate to save his life. Haiselden made his decision because the child was born with deformities and he believed the the boy was was mentally and morally defective. He convinced the child’s mother, who said “the doctor told me it would be, perhaps, an imbecile, a criminal. Left to itself it has no chance to live. I consented to let nature take its course.” (Boston Globe, Nov. 17, 1915, p. 1.)ย  Haiselden’s controversial decision led to a heated debate in newspapers across the country. Continue reading “The Tragic Case of Baby Bollinger”

Facing Death Twice: Lawyer Francis J. Heney

This is the last in Sara Catherine Lichon’s series of blog posts about interesting characters that she came across while working as a co-operative education student for the Project this semester. Her work involves identifying and describing the over 5,000 unique individuals mentioned in Addamsโ€™ correspondence.

Black-and-white portrait of an older man wearing glasses, a pinstriped suit, white shirt, patterned tie, and a pocket square, posing and smiling slightly with a neutral background.
Francis J. Heney, a lawyer and politician whose life was threatened twice during his career.

Life in law can often be exciting, especially when cases take a dramatic turn. For Francis Joseph Heney, a lawyer and politician from California, drama and excitement was part of the job — and sometimes his job even became a matter of life and death. Heney was known for many cases throughout his career, but he was most famous for killing an opposing plaintiff and for being shot in the head by a juror.

As a member of the National Committee of the Progressive Party, Heney’s name appeared numerous times in letters to and from Jane Addams that discussed the National Committee. Heney was a delegate to the Republican National Convention in 1912 and ran for U.S. Senator from California as a Progressive in 1914. Outside of politics, he was a lawyer in both Arizona and California, and owned a cattle business in Arizona with his brother. From 1893 to 1895 he was Attorney General of the Arizona Territory, and he also served as the U.S. District Attorney for the District of Oregon. Heney was a well-known lawyer, having worked as a prosecutor on famous cases such as the Oregon Land Fraud scandal, where U.S. government land grants were being obtained illegally by public officials, and the San Francisco gaft trials, where members of the San Francisco Board of Supervisors were prosecuted for corruption.

Oval portrait of a bearded man in formal attire on the left, and on the right, a woman in a white dress with a veil kneeling at an ornate altar, viewed from the side.
Dr. John C. Handy and Mary Ann Page Handy

In 1889, Heney defended Mary Ann Page Handy, the abused wife of Dr. John Christopher Handy, in a divorce case. Handy was known for being violent and aggressive, having abused his wife throughout their marriage, threatening to kill her when she wanted to file for divorce, and causing her to become addicted to morphine. In July 1889, Handy filed for divorce himself and sent their children to live with his mother. Handy threatened to kill anyone who dared to defend Mary, scaring away most attorneys. Originally, C. W. Wright was to defend Mary, and he asked Heney to assist him. After Heney agreed, Wright withdrew from the case, and Heney decided to do the same. After some reconsideration, though, Heney decided to defend Mary, despite the anger of Handy.

Throughout the case, Handy threatened Heney numerous times, even trying to run him over with his buggy. Ultimately, Handy won the case and received custody of the children, which Heney was quick to appeal, and a new case soon started – and the threats continued. On September 24, 1891, Handy attacked Heney outside his office, grabbing his neck and pinning him to a wall. It’s here where there are different accounts of what happened next; some newspapers say Heney broke free, ran, and drew a revolver, which Handy tried to grab. During the struggle, Heney shot Handy in the abdomen. Other papers say Heney shot Handy while running from him. After the encounter, Handy was taken to Dr. George Goodfellow for an operation but died during the procedure. Heney surrendered to the police but was bailed out by three of his friends. In a hearing two days later, the court ruled Heney acted in self-defense and he wasn’t charged.

A black-and-white newspaper page with a headline about Roosevelt praising Heney, articles on citizens sympathy, and a photo of a man and woman standing together. Text and advertisements fill the page.
The San Francisco Call, Nov. 15, 1908

This was not the end of Heney’s exciting cases. During the San Francisco graft prosecution, Heney pointed out that one juror, Morris Haas, was ineligible to be a juror because he was an ex-convict. Heney also believed that Haas was planted by political boss Abe Ruef, who was being prosecuted by Heney at that time. Angered and resentful, Haas came into the courtroom a few weeks later while the trial was in recess and shot Heney in the head. Haas was then arrested, but found dead in his cell shortly after, leading some to believe he had been killed by one of Ruef’s gangsters. Others thought he committed suicide. Heney was expected to die, but he survived the attack. The newspapers of the time reveal how loved Heney was by the public; The San Francisco Call had an entire page dedicated to the story, describing how three thousand people gathered at Oakland’s town hall in support of Heney and how President Theodore Roosevelt sent Heney’s wife a telegram of sympathy.

Heney continued to be involved in law and politics after these incidents, and lived a fulfilling life. In 1906, he married Rebecca Wentworth McMullin. She died in 1911. Heney married to Edna I. Van Winckle in 1915, who managed his U.S. Senate campaign. Heneyย  died in 1937.

Heney’s work with the Progressive Party and in law have gone down in history, especially the stories of his near-death encounters. And he is yet another fascinating person who has appeared in Jane Addams’ papers!

 

Sources:

Dexter Marshall. “Thrilling Chapters in Lives of Public Men.” The Washington Herald. April 19, 1908, p. 36.

“Hand to Hand.” Tombstone Epitaph. September 27, 1891.

C. Martin. “Territorial Divorce – as Turbulent as the Times.” Arizona Daily Star. November 12, 1972, p. 57.

Oliver Tatom, “Francis J. Heney (1859-1937),” The Oregon Encyclopedia.

“Roosevelt Wires Tribute to Heney: Messages of Sorrow from Friends Abroad: Leading Citizens of Country Praise Prosecutor.” The San Francisco Call. November 15, 1908, p. 23.

“When Francis J. Heney Shot His Man, Too.” The Des Moines Register. December 6, 1908, p. 10.

“Francis J. Heney,” Wikipedia.

Poet and Con-Artist: The Story of Scharmel Iris

A sepia-toned portrait of a young person with curly hair, gazing to the side. They are wearing an open-collared shirt and a jacket, with a soft, blurred background.
Scharmel Iris (Lyrics of a Lad (1914)

Sara Catherine Lichon is writing a series of blog posts about interesting characters that she comes across while working as a co-operative education student for the Project this semester. Her work involves identifying and describing the over 5,000 unique individuals mentioned in Addamsโ€™ correspondence.

As a student, I’ve heard many a time that academic honesty is of the utmost importance, and that plagiarism can end one’s academic career. But back in the early 1900s, plagiarism was responsible for the rise of poet Scharmel Iris’s career, who made a living by fooling others.

Iris was born in 1889 with the name Frederico Scaramella in Castelcivita, Italy. When he was three years old, his mother married a man who helped them immigrate to the United States where they settled in Chicago. Iris changed his name and in 1905, when he was sixteen years old, his first poem was published in a Chicago Catholic newspaper. Soon his career skyrocketed as he was published in Harriet Monroe’s Poetry magazine, received positive reviews from Chicago newspapers, and published his own collections of poems. He received most of his funding and notoriety with the help of other famous poets and artists, such as T.S. Eliot, W.B. Yeats, Salvatore Dali, and Picasso, who wrote praise-filled letters to Iris’s patrons.

There was one major problem with Iris’s success, thoughโ€ฆit was based entirely on lies. Rather than being a great poet, Iris was simply a con-artist. Letters and praise from Eliot, Yeats, and Picasso were forged by Iris himself, and Iris even wrote about himself to publishers and patrons under the pseudonym Vincent Holme. Forgery and plagiarism, rather than talent, provided the base for Iris’s career and fame.

A typed letter dated Jan. 20, 1913, on Hull-House letterhead, addressed to Miss Harriet Monroe, Chicago. The letter discusses poets, critics, and charity, and is signed by hand at the bottom.
Jane Addams’ letter to Harriet Monroe, Jan. 20, 1913. Addams stated that Iris had “no right” to claim she advised him to reach out to different poets.

Jane Addams herself was a victim of Iris’s scams. Iris spent part of his life as a Hull-House resident, and when he published Lyrics of a Lad in 1914, he supposedly received praise from art critic John Ruskin and poets Algernon Charles Swinburne and Edmund Gosse. In January 1913, Addams wrote a letter to Harriet Monroe describing how Iris claimed she had told him to reach out to Gosse and even Yeats. Addams stated, “Poor Scharmel Iris really has no right to say that I advised him to write to Miss Guiney, or to Edmund Gosse, or to Mr. Yeats.” Words had been put in Addams’ mouth by Iris, and she was only one of many.

Iris’s scams even extended to his living situation. He lived at Lewis College, a Catholic school near Joliet, despite not working or teaching there. He stayed there until he was asked to leave in 1966, and he spent the remainder of his life at St. Patrick Retirement Hotel. He died in 1967.

Excerpt from a poem titled After the Martyrdom, describing the act of throwing stones and the resulting emotional burden, with lines reflecting on guilt and remorse for participating in harm.
A poem by Scharmel Iris, published in Poetry in December 1914.

Regardless of Iris’s talent as a poet, it’s hard to deny that he had a talent for fooling others. Iris’s entire life and career was built on plagiarism, yet he lived the life he had always dreamed of — that of a successful, well-known poet . . . even if it was actually a lie.

 

 


Sources:
Announcement of Lyrics of a Lad by Scharmel Iris, 1914.
Inventory of the Scharmel Iris Papers, 1911-1964, The Newberry Library.
Jane Addams to Harriet Monroe, January 20, 1913.
Nina C. Ayoub, “Forging Fame: The Strange Career of Scharmel Iris,” The Chronicle of Higher Education, August 17, 2007.

The “Real” and the “Imagined” Neighborhood: The Hull-House Maps and the Progressive Narrative of Urbanism

This post was given by Rima Lunin Schultz at the Urban History Association Eighth Biennial Conference, on October 13-16, 2016.

Urban historians have been rethinking the relationship between urban space and religion in late nineteenth-century cities.[1] The work of Jane Addams and her fellow reformers at Hull-House, visualized in the 1895 Hull-House nationalities and wages maps[2], has cast a long shadow over scholarsโ€™ understanding of urban immigrant neighborhoods. The maps began a trend that identified maladjustment and pathology in these neighborhoods.[3] In selecting the thirty or so blocks east of Halsted Street to make the best “worst” case of bad housing and sweatshop conditions during their anti-sweatshop political campaign, Hull-House residents, with the leadership of Jane Addams and Florence Kelley, shaped the neighborhood in a lasting way in the public mind. Ironically, those unmapped blocks in the vicinity of Hull-House (including the settlement itself) ย which had better housing and cultural and religious institutions of value, were also “imagined” as a slum area and, eventually, deemed suitable for land clearance projects.

By the time that Hull-House resident Edith Abbott, now dean of the School of Social Work Administration at the University of Chicago, completed Tenements of Chicago 1908-1935, ย the images of the Near West Side slums had become iconic.[4]ย  In this narrative, workers were not seen as community builders; working-class homeownership, if noted, ย was seen as a trap, an illusion of progress.

The intellect driving the maps and papers project was Florence Kelley, who had become a socialist during her graduate studies in Europe, and had worked with Frederick Engels in England, absorbing his methods ofย  using government statistics. She was prepared to study Chicago’s sweatshops and factories.[5] As State Factory Inspector, Kelley and her assistants were already collecting data on tenements when in 1893 she was asked by Carroll D. Wright, Commissioner of Labor and statistician, to select the local area to be canvassed by census men for a federal study of slums in Chicago, Baltimore, New York, and Philadelphia.[6] Kelley was influenced by Charles Booth’s maps of poverty in London; she saw the opportunity to use the data from the canvass to create maps that would dramatically demonstrate sweatshop workers’ deplorable conditions.[7]ย 

The thirty or so blocks selected were on the east sideย  of ย the Nineteenth Ward. For many, this was the Holy Family parish, settled by Catholics before the Civil War. ย In 1893 it was one of the largest Irish Catholic parishes in the United States. Hull-House, founded in 1889, was a scrappy newcomer to the neighborhood, its institutional footprint puny in comparison to the Catholic streetscape.[8] In 1893, twelve Catholic schools existed in the Hull-House neighborhood.[9]

Addams’s Protestant mindset ย imagined ย immigrants “mov[ing] constantly from one wretched lodging to another;” as she told the Chicago Women’s Club, “they live for the moment side by side, many of them without knowledge of each other, without fellowship, without local tradition, or public spirit; without social organization of any kind.โ€[10]

The maps, (and the major papers in the volume) by focusing on the ย sweatshop conditions of that one segment of the economy, ignored how local people actually defined where they lived, who they were, what they owned. Addams, in her preface, ย and Agnes Holbrook, who worked with the data to construct the maps and wrote the notes and comments for the maps, ย know how inadequate the representations are and they stress the transitory quality. It is a snapshot of a moment, captured in one dimension, and it is just a piece of a much more complex social fabric.ย ย 

The religious factor actually loomed large in the consciousness of Progressive reformers who were overwhelmingly Protestant.ย  Urban historians in neglecting the religious factor have ignored the anti-Catholic bias in the Hull-House maps. Implicit in the nationalities map is anxiety about the Catholic presence in the neighborhood.ย  The nationalities mapped are actually classes or categories constructed from a “mental map” about race, religion, ย and ethnicity.[11]

Briefly, the color white represents English-speaking people, including English, English-Canadians, Scotch, all Americans of native parentage, and children born in this country of foreign parents who were over ten years of age, or, if younger, were in attendance in public schools.[12] Children under the age of ten of foreign parents who attended parochial schools were still aggregated as foreign. This reflected the Progressive Era’s anxiety about the influence of Catholicism in the formation of new citizens and ย the use of foreign languages in some parochial schools.[13]

Two other English speaking groups were placed in separate categories: “Negroes”[14] and the Irish (green) ย “form[ing] so distinct and important an element in our politics and civic life that a separate representation has been accorded them.”[15] The Hull-House political battles against the ward boss had already begun.[16] Imagine if the Irish and their children in parochial schools were “white” in the maps—-the neighborhood would not seem so “foreign.” Were Italians “white” on arrival? Could Irish Catholics assimilate into American culture even after many generations of citizenship in this country?

The wages map, covers the same blocks; the colors now indicate income by dwelling place.[17] The largest class in the district was colored blue and represented families earning from $5 to $10 a week, or in today’s equivalency, $125 to $250 a week. 

The papers argue against blaming the victims of economic inequality and social injustice for their deplorable living conditions, instead portray them as hard working[18] underestimate the private associational strength of immigrants, and do not include a chapter on the Irish and Holy Family parish, the heart of the community.[19]ย 

Had the project mapped the west side of the Nineteenth Ward, starting with the block where the settlement house was located (yes, the settlement does not get “mapped”) the narrative would have been dramatically different showing a more “mixed” neighborhood economically, with prosperous sections and brick residences, prosperous shops owned by immigrants, and lots of parochial schools and churches.

Even the east side, the area mapped, was not all of one piece. ย Italian families who lived in this congested “slum” did not describe it that way. The Tarsitano Italian family did not feel “poor” or characterize their living conditions as substandard. Three generations remained in the old neighborhood. In 1901 Leopoldo Tarsitano had settled in the east end around the Italian parish of Holy Guardian Angel. The Tarsitano family lived for several years in a flat and Leopoldo worked as a grocery cart peddler but by 1907 the family had saved enough money to buy their own two-story store front brick home located just west ofย  Holy Guardian Angel Church, which was at 717 Forquer. Located east of Halsted Street, the church and school were in the area “mapped” as one of the worst industrial districts in Chicago. The Tarsitano store was on the first floor with the family living in the upper levels.ย 

The Tarsitano children and grandchildren all participated in the cultural and recreational opportunities offered by Hull-House and were devotees of the summer camp in Waukegan. They attended church and parish school and, ย all of Leopoldo’s four granddaughters attended St. Mary High School in the vicinity. One became a physician, after graduating from Mundelein, the Catholic women’s college run by the Sisters of Charity Blessed Virgin Mary (BVMs),ย  and Loyola University Medical School; two became school teachers, graduating from Northern Illinois University;ย  and another sister married and had children. Two of Leopold’s grandsons attended St. Ignatius Jesuit High School and Our Lady of Pompeii High School, the former attending the University of Illinois briefly and ending up with a business career at the managerial level; the latter graduated from Loyola University, did graduate work at De Paul and at the University of Nebraska and became a political science professor at the College of Du Page.[20]ย 

The Italians in the Holy Guardian Angel parish were a stable, hard working people. They built the working class church of brick–more squat than tall. By 1910 its Sunday School claimed to be “one of the largest in the world”ย  and in 1920 the congregation raised money for a new school building. ย Finding themselves located in the path of the Dan Ryan Expressway, in 1959 the old parish planned a new combination church and school structure at 860 West Cabrini, near Hull-House. The neighborhood was in a state of flux, but the parishioners had received assurances from the Mayor’s office as well as the chancery of the Archdiocese of Chicago that they had moved to a safe block that would not be part of any urban renewal plan.ย  Urban politics in Chicago is not known for transparency or integrity. Hardly “settled in,” the new school and convent was demolished in 1963 to make way for the University of Illinois.

My argument here is that an unexpected outcome of the housing surveys was the conceptualization ofย  working-class neighborhoods as one-dimensional places. The Tarsitano narrative is one of many similar stories of immigrant entrepreneurship, property ownership, intergenerational progress, and communal investments building neighborhoods ofย  rich religious infrastructures.

There were plenty of problems in the Forquer and Halsted environs, including poverty and crime. Housing varied. The “imagined” neighborhood of the Protestant lady reformers” of good character” as community activist Florence Scala’s mother defined them[21], ย however, had made slum images iconic and had relegated the communal and social life of Forquer Street off of the map.[22]ย  Florence Scala led the fight to save her neighborhood. As her nephew Father Steve Giovangelo explained: “Churches and Hull House co-existed and were at the center of social life.”

A remarkable, but missed opportunity, of Edith Abbott’s work was her use of parish histories for data and her acknowledgement thatย  “these parochial histories provide some interesting and neglected source materials for the study of the social history of our American cities.[23] My research, and that of others in the field, aims to bring the religious factor back in: This Da Prato map of Chicago clearly identifies the religious factor in urban life as ubiquitous.ย 


[1] Maureen Fitzgerald, Habits of Compassion: Irish Catholic Nuns and the Origins of New York’s Welfare System, 1830-1920 (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 2006); Suellen Hoy, Good Hearts: Catholic Sisters in Chicago’s Past (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 2006); Ellen Skerrett, Born in Chicago: A History of Chicago’s Jesuit University (Chicago: Loyola Press, 2002);ย  Rima Lunin Schultz and Ellen Skerrett, “‘Sister Builders’ in Chicago,” American Catholic Studies Newsletter, Vol. 42, Number 1 (Spring 2015). ย ย 

[2] The Residents of Hull-House, Hull-House Maps and Papers. A Presentation of Nationalities and Wages in a Congested District of Chicago, Together with Comments and Essays on Problems Growing Out of the Social Conditions. Introduction by Rima Lunin Schultz (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 2007; facsimile reprint 1895 edition). The maps reflect data gathered by government men in April 1893.ย  There are 10 essays, and an appendix that describes Hull-House and its work, and includes photographs of Hull-House’s exterior and interior space. There are no photographs or illustrations of the neighborhood. Five of the essays are about sweatshops, garment workers, and the state of public charity;ย  three describe the Italians; the Jews; and the Bohemians respectively;ย  Ellen Gates Starr and Jane Addams, co-founders in 1889, describe their ideas about art and labor, and the settlement house as a factor in the labor movement in two separate essays.

[3] Florence Kelley and Alzina Parsons Stevens contributed “Wage-earning Children” in Hull-House Maps and Papers which includes charts of the measurements of defective Chicago factory-children that were made by Dr. Bayard Holmes, from measurements taken in 1893-94, in the office of Florence Kelley, State Factory Inspector of Illinois, 87-88.

[4] Edith Abbott, The Tenements of Chicago. 1908-1935 (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1936), ix-x.

[5] Kathryn Kish Sklar, Florence Kelley and the Nation’s Work (New Haven & London: Yale University Press, 1995), 102-03.

[6] Carroll D. Wright, “Introduction,” in Wright, The Slums of Baltimore, Chicago, New York, and Philadelphia (1894 reprint, New York: Arno Press, 1970) explains the federally funded projects. Four government men came to Chicago and conducted the door-to-door canvass supplied by Wright; Kelley selected the blocks to be surveyed.ย 

[7]The area selected to be “mapped” is located across the street from the Hull-House settlement– between Harrison on the north and Roosevelt Road (12th Street) on the south; from the east side of Halsted on the west, to the south Loop–the area around Clark Street and Plymouth Court. It is an area of residences–cottages, tenements, two-and-four-flats–, factories, warehouses, railroad yards, stores, and brothels.  Most of the people lived in various grades of housing in about thirty small blocks between Halsted and the river. East of the river the five residential blocks, crowded with people of color, were adjacent to the vice or brothel district.

[8]  โ€œThe Little Sisters of the Poor,โ€ Chicago Times (August 26, 1877): 8. Ironically, the first old age home run by the Little Sisters was in Charles Hull’s residence. The Hull family had moved out of the neighborhood during the Civil War period. The Little Sisters outgrew the Hull house soon after and moved to as larger institutional location they had built on Harrison Street, still in the neighborhood.

[9] Historian Ellen Skerrett documents twelve Catholic schools in the Hull-House neighborhood in 1892: Convent Academy of the Sacred Heart, opened fall 1860, 485 [1258] W. Taylor Street ; A free school at the northwest corner of Taylor and Lytle streets for girls of Holy Family parish, 1860; additional buildings for the Sacred Heart Academy complex wereย  constructed in 1864 and 1886; Holy Family Boys School, new building at 462 [approx. 1231] S. Morgan Street] opened 1865; St. Ignatius College, 413 [1076] W. 12th Street [Roosevelt Road]ย  opened 1870 (also enrolled young boys);St. Aloysius School, new building at 210 [631] W. Maxwell Streetย  opened 1870; Holy Guardian Angel School, 168 [ 711] W.ย  Forquer Street [Arthington Street]ย  opened 1874;St. Joseph School, on W. 13th Street near Loomis Street [1413 W. 13th Street]ย ย  opened 1876 ;St. Agnes School, 530 [approx. 1361] S. Morgan Streetย  opened 1887; Ephpheta School for the Deaf, 409 [1100] S. May Street in operation by 1890 (see attached Tribune article on Eliza Allen Starr, March 16, 1890);St. Francis of Assisi School, new building at southwest corner of 12th and Newberry Avenueย  opened 1884 ;Notre Dame [French] School, new building at Oregon [Flournoy] and Sibley Street [approx. 1338 W. Flournoy] opened 1885; St. Wenceslaus [Bohemian] School, new building at 185 [710] W. DeKoven Street opened in 1893. Sources: โ€œProvince of Chicago,โ€ [1890 statistics compiled on the Archdiocese of Chicago], in James J. McGovern, Souvenir of the Silver Jubilee in the Episcopacy of His Grace The Most Rev. Patrick Augustine Feehan, Archbishop of Chicago, 1890 (Privately printed, 1891), 242-253; Brother Thomas M. Mulkerins, S.J., Holy Family Parish Chicago: Priests and People, ed. Joseph J. Thompson (Chicago: Universal Press, 1923); Rev. Msgr. Harry C. Koenig, ed., A History of the Parishes of the Archdiocese of Chicago 2 vols. (Chicago: the Archdiocese of Chicago, 1980).

[10] โ€œThey move constantly from one wretched lodging to another; they live for the moment side by side, many of them without knowledge of each other, without fellowship, without local tradition, or public spirit; without social organization of any kind.โ€ [46-0481] And she also repeats that โ€œ[p]ractically nothing is done to remedy this.โ€ [46-0481]She calls on those who have the โ€œsocial tact and training, the large houses and traditions of custom and hospitality [who] live in other parts of the cityโ€ to stop the โ€œfatal drifting apartโ€ another phrase that is going to be repeated. Jane Addams, โ€œOutgrowths of Toynbee Hall,โ€ December 3, 1891, [address delivered to the Chicago Womanโ€™s Club], in JAMC (reel 46-0480-0496), Special Collections, Daley Library, UIC.

 

[12] Holbrook explains that “it would be misleading to include children under ten years living in a foreign colony, not in attendance upon schools where English is sure to be used, speaking a foreign language, and, although born in this country, ignorant of American life, manners, people, and of the English tongue.” Ibid., 15.

[13] “It would be misleading,” Holbrook writes, “to include children under ten years of age living in a foreign colony, not in attendance upon schools where English is sure to be used, speaking a foreign language, and, although born in this country, ignorant of American life, manners, people, and of the English tongue.” Holbrook, “Map Notes and Comments,” 15.

[14] Ibid., 16-17.

[15] Holbrook, “Map Notes and Comments,” 16.

[16] Jane Addams’s experiences at the local ward level first as garbage inspector and then as a leading voice opposing Alderman Powers in 1899-1898 were eye-opening; by 1900 Addams could critique the reformers as well as the ward politicians, seeing the issue of local politics in a more complex way than had been possible when she first encountered the “boss.” “Jane Addams Wears a Star: Appointed to the Force of Garbage Inspectors by Commissioner Kent,” Chicago Record (April 25, 1895), 6; Jane Addams to Henry Demarest Lloyd, December 22, 1895, State Historical Society of Wisconsin, Henry Demarest Lloyd Papers in JAMC (Reel 2-1829-1830), Special Collections, The University Library, UIC; “Two Women and A Manโ€”Jane Addams, Amanda Johnson and John Powers: Remarkable Results Achieved by Womanly Influence Against Overwhelming Odds in the Nineteenth Ward,” Chicago Times-Herald (January 30, 1898), 25; Jane Addams, “Why the Ward Boss Rules,” Outlook 58, no. 14 (April 2, 1898), 881-882.

[17] Six categories ranging from less than $5 a week to over $20 were depicted: most of the households fell in the $5 to $10 range (blue); the poorest category (black) represented an average weekly family income of $5 or less. In today’s dollars approximately, households $5 or less a week are making under $125 per week; households making from $5 to $10 per week were making from $125 to $250 dollars a week in todayโ€™s dollars. (formula is $1 = $25)

[18] Humpal-Zeman, โ€œThe Bohemians of Chicago,โ€ in HHM&P, 118.

[19]In โ€œHull House, Chicago: An Effort Toward Social Democracy,” Forum, October 1892, Jane Addams states that: โ€œThere are seven churches and two missions in the [Nineteenth] ward.ย  All of these are small and somewhat struggling, save the large Catholic church [Holy Family] connected with the Jesuit College [St. Ignatius] on the south boundary of the ward and the French Catholic church [Notre Dame de Chicago] on the west boundary.ย  There are but three out of these nine religious centres in which the service is habitually conducted in English.โ€ย  The fact that English is only spoken in three out of the nine religious institutions is particularly upsetting to Addams. Addams also ignores the twelve Catholic schools in the Nineteenth Ward already established by 1892. โ€œProvince of Chicago,โ€ [1890 statistics compiled on the Archdiocese of Chicago], in James J. McGovern, Souvenir of the Silver Jubilee in the Episcopacy of His Grace The Most Rev. Patrick Augustine Feehan, Archbishop of Chicago, 1890 (Privately printed, 1891), 242-253; Brother Thomas M. Mulkerins, S .J., Holy Family Parish Chicago: Priests and People, ed. Joseph J. Thompson (Chicago: Universal Press, 1923); Rev. Msgr. Harry C. Koenig, ed., A History of the Parishes of the Archdiocese of Chicago 2 vols. (Chicago: the Archdiocese of Chicago, 1980).ย 

[20] Rima Lunin Schultz, “Public School ‘Secularists’ vs. Women Religious: Competing Visions for Educating Catholic Immigrants in Jane Addams’s Progressive Era Chicago, 1890-1925,” chapter in Crossings and Dwellings, edited by Kyle Roberts and Steven Schloesser, (Netherlands: Brill Publishing, forthcoming 2016-17).

[21] Father Steven Giovangelo, “Memo to Rima Lunin Schultz,” June 30, 2013, in author’s possession.

[22] Edith Abbott, The Tenements of Chicago. 1908-1935 (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1936), ix-x.

[23] Edith Abbott, The Tenements of Chicago 1908-1935 (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1936), xi.

Charlotte Carrโ€™s Hull-House: Labor Activism, Cultural Production, and Race Relations, 1937-42

Introduction

She was to remain at Hull-House for only five years, but Charlotte Carr led the famous settlement through an uncertain but innovative moment in its history. Carr was a big enough personality to shake things up at Hull-House following the death of Jane Addams, a figure whose posthumous โ€œpresenceโ€ loomed large. In 1937, Carr left her position as executive director of the New York City emergency relief bureau after having dealt successfully with New Deal critics and local community rebellion. She accepted the challenge to direct the famous settlement even though she did not come out of the settlement movement because Hull-House still offered her, as a pro-labor public administrator with an urgent message in support of workers, one of the most important โ€œpulpitsโ€ to which an American woman could ascend.[1] Described in the press as a female John L. Lewis,[2] she brought her hard driving, take-charge style of leadership to Chicago to advocate workersโ€™ rights.

Not since the days of the anti-sweatshop campaign in the 1890s led by Florence Kelley in coalition with female trade union leaders and clubwomen, and the period of Ellen Gates Starrโ€™s labor activism with clothing workers and waitresses in the 1910s, had Hull-House been so actively engaged in a labor reform movement as the settlement was during the Carr years. Carrโ€™s allies were New Dealers and labor leaders in Chicago, Washington, D.C., and New York. Kelleyโ€™s and Starrโ€™s era was identified with the rise of the American Federation of Labor (AFL), the Amalgamated Clothing Workers, and the National Womenโ€™s Trade Union League (NWTUL); Carrโ€™s New Deal is identified with the rise of the Congress of Industrial Organizations (CIO) and the protests of the Unemployed Workersโ€™ Councils. Not since its support of aldermanic reform candidates and Theodore Rooseveltโ€™s presidential campaign on the Progressive Party ticket had Hull-House appeared as politically partisan as it became when Carr and her staff directly challenged hegemonic capitalism with workersโ€™ education classes and with support for union organization in the neighborhood and in the settlement house itself.

Carr sought to bring together workers of all backgrounds, including African Americans who were becoming more numerous in the neighborhood, to assert their basic human rights to decent jobs with wages and hours that were negotiated not dictated by bosses. She opened Hull-House to African Americans in the neighborhood, she said, โ€œnot necessarily from the point of view of the racial question, but from the point of view of the lowest wage group.โ€[3] Rejecting cultural and arts and crafts activities that had dominated the Hull-House settlement and that stressed ethnic and racial identity, Carr was prepared to take up the challenge of the greatest historical movement of the mid to late twentieth century: the migration of African Americans from the South to the urban North. But she did so in the context of working-class organization and politics.

Hull-House during the Carr years was revitalized by the New Deal and by the involvement of its residents in the kind of cultural experimentation and political expression associated with the Popular Front and the Cultural Front.[4] There is much to learn from Hull-Houseโ€™s experience during the New Deal. In framing the settlementโ€™s activities in the context of  new ideas generated by the Cultural Front nationwide, we also have an opportunity to see by comparison the original vision of the settlement idea as practiced at Hull-House.

Carr had to win the support of trustees and residents who had been devoted to Addams, especially Louise deKoven Bowen, president of the Hull-House Association, who had been a trustee and treasurer of Hull-House from 1903 and a great financial benefactor. Addams had a unique relationship with Bowen and the trustees and financial contributors (often one and the same) that supported her work. Unlike Carr, who was a career woman, Addams, one of the trusteesโ€™ class,[5] had established the settlement with her own funds, initially, and they backed her โ€œexperimentโ€ and accepted her leadership. Since Addams was a volunteer who invested her own money in the settlement, she fit a model of womanly benevolence not one of professionalism. Addams, then, had a great deal of personal discretion and her initiatives and decisions about settlement policy were almost completely unchallenged by the close-knit group of trustees, a situation Carr could not duplicate.[6]

Creating a unified and spirited agenda was Carrโ€™s first order of business. Even before Carr could venture out to the community and revitalize the settlementโ€™s connection to the neighborhood, she had to bring together the staff and residents who were already at the settlement, including old-timers who had lived there for decades, with her new staff and residents who identified with her and her agenda. Although many of the older residents were badly bruised over the internal conflicts in Hull-House leadership that had precipitated the resignation of Adena Miller Rich,[7] whose short-lived and part-time efforts to sustain an original model of โ€œhead residentโ€ failed, there was a desire on the part of the whole settlement community for change.

The change seemed instantaneous: many residents and staff exchanged their frustrations for a feeling of intense anticipation and excitement. โ€œI cannot remember anymore what she[Carr] said [at first meeting with the residents] but I can remember how I felt,โ€ Hull-House resident Donna Hodgman wrote. โ€œI felt . . . that I could doโ€”why anything at all. My mind was full of exclamation points.โ€[8]   The infusion of new people Carr gathered included journalists and writers on the Left and Workersโ€™ Education specialists. They were interested in the little magazines of the 1930s, experimental theater, and the cooperative movement. Many of them had been involved in New Deal programs elsewhere and seemed to be part of a nation-wide effort. Hull-House had participated in New Deal programs before, but Carr and her staff appeared to be connected in a fuller, more encompassing way.[9]

This chapter focuses on three areas of activities at the settlement in an effort to understand race, politics, and culture during the Carr years. The first area is that of race relations and community organization; the second is cultural production; and the third, political and labor activism.

These three areas of activity were interrelated, of course, since they stemmed from an overall approach to social change and to experimenting with expanding democracyโ€™s social component that had been embraced by residents under Addamsโ€™s leadership but seemingly had lost direction at some point with the decline of the political edge that had characterized the settlementโ€™s Progressive Era history. During the Carr years these areas of activity were brought into focus once more, but now defined by Carr and her staff in the context of New Deal social movements.

Race Relations and Community Organizing

In 1937 Carr immediately noted the absence of African Americans at Hull-House. Except for those houses established in black neighborhoods, the overwhelming majority of social settlements had been established in immigrant neighborhoods and had remained through the 1930s as all-white institutions. As African Americans from the South began to migrate to northern industrial cities and settle in deteriorating neighborhoods that had served immigrant populations, settlements in these communities had to decide whether or not to integrate programs and staff, remain in the neighborhood, or move to another location; to support public housing or give in to the local prejudices against blacks and whites living together.[10] Hull-House in the mid-1930s embraced a policy of integration and, in its programs, staffing, residency, and summer camp, achieved a greater degree of integration than has been acknowledged by any historians to this date.[11] Not to overstate the successes of the program, the efforts that were made were rather exceptional in the context of heightened violence against African Americans when residential boundaries to enforce segregation were transgressed, and where openly defiant whites bullied the small number of African American families who attempted to integrate public housingโ€”housing built by the federal government.[12]

Charlotte Carr used her ties to the New Deal, the labor movement (and its Left-leaning CIO), and to pro-integrationist activism in the Northeast.[13] Carrโ€™s approach to the race issue as administrator of emergency relief in New York had impressed Dorothy Height, the civil rights leader who had witnessed Carrโ€™s fairness toward blacks during the March 1935 riot in Harlem. The situation in March of 1935 was desperate for African Americans. While African Americans were only eight percent of New York Cityโ€™s population, they made up forty-two percent of the unemployed on welfare. They were even denied positions on work projects set up by the welfare system, and there was not a single person of color in a position of authority on the management staff of the Welfare Administration. Carr remedied the problem by appointing Height to be personnel supervisor in the central office of the Home Relief Bureau.[14]

Her involvement with civil rights leaders was authenticโ€”race men and women trusted Carr, and when she was about to leave New York for Chicago, a farewell dinner was given in her honor by the African American leadership in New York.[15] The African American community in Chicago, aware of this relationship of trust, anticipated her move to the city.

Carr found that the Hull-House settlement appeared to interact with African Americans in the neighborhood through a womenโ€™s club that had been meeting at Hull-House for over a decade. Named the Hull-House Community Club, its members remained a separate (and segregated) club in the settlement house from the late 1920s.[16] Their children were kept separate rather than encouraged to join in the myriad of clubs and activities available for white children.

In the more than forty-five years that Hull-House provided cultural, educational, and recreational activities, there had been two strategies for membership. There were ethnically separate clubs for adults and children that had their origins in the early years when a common language was often not available; there were also activities where cross-ethnic experiences were promoted, and even built into the structure of the settlement through the workings of inter-club councils. Yet the persistence of ethnically separate activities at Hull-House in the 1930s and 1940s points to deeper and more complex cultural and racial issues.[17] โ€œI believe we social workers made a great mistake in the early days in organizing racial groups as suchโ€”Bohemian Mothers, Polish Mothers, Italian Mothers and so forth,โ€ Carr reflected. โ€œPerhaps it was necessary. They came here friendless and unable to speak English; naturally they turned to others of their own tongue. But the time for all that has passed. The second generation has learned English in the public schools, and it is now most important for all these residents to realize their mutual interdependence as Americansโ€”to learn that Bohemians, Poles, Italians, Mexicans and Negroes must live together as neighbors and partners in the economic struggle.

Integrating Hull-House was possible during Carrโ€™s tenure in part because radicals like Harvey and Jessie Lloyd Oโ€™Connor, and Alexander Saxton, who was studying at the University of Chicago, brought a new spirit to Hull-House. Harvey was formerly editor of The People’s Press; he had written Steel Dictator, The Guggenheims, and Mellon’s Millions. The new group did not displace the Old Guardโ€”dedicated, but limited, women like Nesta Smith, who taught string instruments at Hull-House and revealed her distress when โ€œmost of our old reliable European families were moving out.โ€[18] But for a very crucial, catalytic moment, Leftist New Dealers provided the courage and the context for a new politics and an enthusiasm for integration. Popular Front artists and writers identified as cultural workers; and as white radicals, they wanted to engage with African American cultural workers on the South Side and at Hull-House, where race barriers were being chipped away. It was at the South Side Community Center (SSCC), one of these places of interracial cooperation, that Jessie Lloyd Oโ€™Connor, Harveyโ€™s wife, joined the Better Housing League (BHA) movement. The BHA fought restrictive covenants in Chicagoโ€™s housing market and advocated non-discrimination policies in public housing projects.[19]

Carr sought out journalist Dewey E. Jones, and his family, and invited them to be the โ€œfirstโ€ black residents in Hull-House history.[20] Jones needed a salary in order to pay room and board, so Carr engineered a Rosenwald Fund stipend for him and announced that he was going to investigate the conditions of poverty in the neighborhood of Hull-House.

Jones, his wife, Faith Jefferson Jones, a social worker, and their toddler, Dewey E. Jones, Jr., moved into the settlement in 1938. His coming to Hull-House was a public event, fully acknowledged by the Chicago Defender as newsworthy.[21] Jones, who had been an advisor to Harold Ickes in Washington, D.C.,[22] was a good, but in many circles, a controversial choice as the first African American resident at the House. One of the โ€œNew Crowdโ€ of more militant civil rights activists,[23] Jones associated with the Left-wing National Negro Congress (NNC), and while resident at Hull-House, he was elected president of the Chicago chapter of NNC. Carrโ€™s choice of Jones was in keeping with her own militancy regarding the advancement of African Americans.

To give greater credence to the argument that Carr was interested in alliances with pro-labor, Left-wing Race men and women, was the appointment of George McCray, also an NNC activist, as a Rosenwald Fellow in the Workersโ€™ Education Department at Hull-House in 1940. Additionally, social worker Lillian Summers, who was elected president of the Chicago NNC after the untimely death of Dewey Jones in April of 1939, became a Hull-House resident in July, 1939.[24] Faith Jones remained at Hull-House after the death of her husband; she served as vice-president of the Chicago NNC.[25] NCC militants were willing to work with white radicals and at Hull-House in the Carr years the two groups were able to make the first real progress toward integrating staff, residents, and programs in the settlementโ€™s history.

What remains less obvious is why Jones would be interested in leaving the national scene and coming back to Chicago and the Near West Side neighborhood.[26] In part, the explanation lies in the international reputation of Hull-House which gave an otherwise local jobโ€”research fellow โ€”social and political capital. And partly the reason for Jonesโ€™s return to Chicago may well have been the place that city (and the near West Side neighborhood nearby Hull-House) would play in the public housing movement. Jones had been one of the key players in efforts to launch a public housing program in the United States under the auspices of Harold Ickesโ€™ housing division of the Public Works Administration. There was considerable opposition to public housing and its adherents had made slow gains for the cause. For those visionaries who saw the potential for public housing to end slums and reconfigure urban space so that segregation as well as poverty could be eradicated, a federally funded program seemed to fulfill the larger agenda. There was a hitch, however. โ€œPerhaps wishing to make the novel federal presence in urban America as unobtrusive as possible, it was Ickes who promulgated the โ€˜neighborhood composition rule,โ€™ which prevented government projects from altering the racial composition of their host neighborhoods.โ€[27] Chicagoโ€™s slums, housing shortage, and location as one of the primary cities receiving African Americans from the Southโ€”first to work in the war industries and soon after as the destination for the Second Great Migrationโ€”made it an ideal place to experiment with public housing. The Near West Side neighborhood associated with Jane Addamsโ€™s Hull-House settlement, would offer a test case for interracial public housing projects that could enlist the leadership of the settlement and utilize its reputation as a leader in cutting-edge programs first introduced in the local arena. The reason this was possible, was that there had been a black presence in the neighborhood along with a mix of ethnicities. Thus the projected public housing project could include black and white families under the constraints of the neighborhood composition rule, a situation almost unique in the city of Chicago.[28]

Even before Carrโ€™s arrival at Hull-House, the settlement had looked forward to the placement of public housing in its neighborhood. Hull-House participated with leaders from the Chicago Urban League, the Council of Social Agencies of Chicago, and liberal elements of the real estate industry at the Chicago Urban Leagueโ€™s annual conference in September 1937, which was held at Hull-Houseโ€™s Bowen Country Club camp in Waukegan, Illinois.[29] On the agenda were topics including public housing, education, and neighborhood renewal issues. Participants at this conference were part of what can be loosely described as a pro-public housing, urban renewal coalition. Dewey Jones had come to the conference from Washington, D.C. Having roots in the Chicago black community, he was an important link between the national housing scene and the local; although Charlotte Carr was not at the meeting, (she would be arriving in Chicago from New York on October 1st) she had been planning how Hull-House could offer leadership in this coalition for public housing.[30]

Hull-House could not offer leadership in urban renewal and public housing if it did not accomplish substantial achievements in the integration of the settlement, its staff, its residents, and in the clubs, classes, programs, and camp that it ran. Dewey Jones was a key staff member in efforts to integrate the settlement.  In the short amount of time that Jones lived at Hull-House he was able to both critique the past record of the settlement on race relations and through his role as an editor and writer for Hull-House publications, introduce a new rhetoric that served to inspire staff, residents, and neighbors to idealize interracialism as an articulated goal. In doing the work of de-mythologizing an iconic institution, while at the same time producing new Hull-House publications that exuded interracial values and images, Jones leaves a complicated legacy in need of contextualization. Reporting to the Welfare Council of Metropolitan Chicago one year after his appointment to the Hull-House staff, Jones found that the settlement had โ€œnot done very much in an interracial sense as far as Negroes are concerned.โ€ He did not believe โ€œthis was because of any policy of the House or any decision on anyoneโ€™s part but just because of a sort of taking for granted that if an institution was in the heart of the community and had facilities, everyone who needed them would take advantage of them.โ€[31] Hull-House, purportedly a โ€œmelting potโ€ institution known for welcoming people of all ethnicities and background, even after the arrival of Charlotte Carr, had trouble integrating life at the settlement, and African American participation remained negligible. โ€œIt has been my experience,โ€ Jones concluded, โ€œthat a very large part of the difficulty that Negroes have in trying to fit into these programs is traceable directly to those people in charge of the programs who assume there will be trouble if they attempt to bring about integration.โ€ [32] He asserted โ€œwherever we have found it possible to break down that idea among the leaders we have found that 90 per cent of the problem was solved and that there was no trouble after the people understood that the leaders wanted it done that way.โ€

One of the ways that Jones and other integrationists on Carrโ€™s staff challenged the status quo at the settlement was through the vehicle of settlement publications that constructed an integrated Hull-House through images and text. During the Jane Addams years, the annual yearbooks offered basic information about clubs and classes, sometimes with up-dates, and even re-used photographs.[33] They were a formal representation of the philosophy of the settlement house entirely through the lens of the colony of women who, with Addams, ran it, and, most likely, these publications were seen as an organ of publicity and dissemination to a broad readership of potential and actual supporters outside the neighborhood. Rarely are the individuals depicted in the undated photographs named; this anonymity of participants (the neighbors), coupled with the re-use of the images, ironically gives the yearbooks, a genre marking time, a timeless quality.  After 1933 the annual publication of a yearbook was discontinued until 1939, when Carr asked Dewey Jones to edit the first annual in six years;[34] Jones, whose formal education in journalism at the University of Michigan and the School of Journalism, Columbia University, and his career as a journalist in the Negro press (Amsterdam News, New York, and the Chicago Defender) more than qualified him to take on the role of journalist-at-large while he was resident at Hull-House,[35] used the opportunity to advance an agenda of interracialism which he shared with Carr and others of her staff.

The 1939 Yearbook appears to have had two major goals; one was to portray Hull-House as an integrating institution, and the other was to identify Hull-House as an agency of the community, deeply committed to renewal of the neighborhood, but also committed to working with community leadership. The first goal was achieved with the placement of Yearbook images that for the first time included African Americans: a photograph of the Benedict Art Gallery featured paintings that have African American subject matter; an image of one of the Hull-House reception rooms (parlor) included a portrait on the wall of an African American. A photograph of a scene from โ€œMarching Song,โ€ a labor play by John Howard Lawson, depicted racial content. There was a winter scene of the Hull-House courtyard accompanied by this text: โ€œIt was in this courtyard that thousands of persons of all races, creeds and ages stood on that day in May, 1935, when final rites were held for the founder of Hull-House, Miss Jane Addams.โ€ (Tellingly, there was no portrait of Jane Addams in this revival of the annual yearbook.) Similarly, the text that accompanied a photo spread of the annual Mexican Festival ran: โ€œAll races, all creeds, all nationalities enjoy the facilities of Hull-House. An explanation of Christmas at Hull-House, accompanied by four pictures of newly created tableaux depicted the Italian conception of the birth of Christ; the Blessing of Christ in the Church according to Greek tradition; โ€˜Pasada,โ€™ the Entrance into Bethlehem, according to the Mexican conception and โ€œthe Adoration of the Magi from the Negro point of view.โ€ Finally, the yearbook section on Bowen Country Club camp showed several images where African American children were part of the group, including a swimming pool image of black and white children that was shocking in an era in which segregation of municipal pools and beaches in the North as well as the South was a symbol of the widespread acceptance of the separation of the races and where any crossing of boundaries could incite violence by whites against blacks. These scenes portrayed an ideal which Dewey Jones knew was still not fully realized at Hull-House, but they were a dramatic statement of the new direction undertaken by the settlement. โ€œAs far as the inter-racial problem goes at Hull House[36],โ€ Jones concluded, โ€œsome definite steps have been taken toward bringing about a kind of melting pot, the kind of agency the [Hull] House has stood for in theory all these years.โ€[37]

A section, โ€œOur Neighbors,โ€ accompanied by photographs of community groups, introduced the reader to the notion that Hull-House was changing and that the new Community Relations Department โ€œstarted as an experimentโ€ but โ€œhas more than justified itself by the response it has received from the neighbors.โ€ The text explained: โ€œIt is now obvious that no Settlement House is really complete without its direct contact with the community, and that establishing such contact is a full-sized departmental job in itself.โ€ The story line emphasized that Hull-House was actively supporting a program for better houses, cleaner streets and alleys, better schools, and more playgrounds. Readers were also told that new community clubs have been formed to act as โ€œoutposts for Hull-House in its program of slum eradication.โ€ Photographs of the Tay-Mor (Taylor and Morgan streets) Neighborhood Club and the Sholto-Eleventh (Sholto and Eleventh streets), the two community organizations set up as neighborhood outposts for the Hull-House Community Relations Program depicted neighbors and Hull-House staff.

Another example of how Hull-House under Carrโ€™s direction re-framed the relationship between the settlement and the community is in the narrative that developed surrounding the first interracial Hull-House benefit dance held in a downtown Chicago hotel in 1941. According to the Chicago Tribune, no advocate of integration, the nationality clubsโ€”โ€œthe Greek, Negro, Italian, and Mexican Mothersโ€™ Clubsโ€โ€”meeting at the settlement had come together and planned a benefit dance at a downtown hotel to raise money for their activities.[38] Donna Hodgman, a resident at Hull-House from 1936, provides an insiderโ€™s account of how the event came about as an interracial affair: โ€œOne day a committee from the [Hull-House] Womenโ€™s Club, [the oldest womenโ€™s group in the settlement and one composed entirely of white English-speaking women] had a meeting with Miss Carrโ€ Hodgman wrote. They told Carr they were thinking about a new way to raise money for the clubs. They proposed renting the ballroom of one of the downtown hotels. Everyone would wear evening clothes and maybe even liquor would be served.[39] Carr thought the plan โ€œambitiousโ€ and wondered if they really meant that everybody would be invited: โ€œI suppose the Mexicans will be in on it?โ€ she asked. Hodgman wrote that the women replied โ€œCertainly, Miss Carr. We donโ€™t have race prejudice, you know.โ€ Carr countered, โ€œHow about the Negroes?โ€ Hodgman recalled โ€œAt that remark the faces of the committee looked surprised and uneasy.โ€[40] Carr suggested to the women that they probably had not thought about that aspect yet; she told them โ€œBut you and I know that we have Negroes in this house. They are represented in our Interclub Council.โ€ And she went on to say that she could not see how they could give the party without โ€œthis important group . . . left out of the plans.โ€ Carr left the decision to them. โ€œOf course, this is your party. You have to work it out yourselves. But I guess you know how I would feel about leaving out the Negroes.โ€[41] The committee did not answer Carr right away; several days later, after discussions, they told Carr, โ€œWe want the Negroes.โ€  Once the all-white Hull-House Womenโ€™s Club had made their decision to integrate the party, the next hurdle was to find a hotel willing to accommodate an interracial group, a difficult task in the segregated America of 1941. The committee found two hotels, but the manager of one was not sure his waiters would be polite to the guests. The other hotel, The Stevens, was selected. A politician in the neighborhood told Carr that people in the neighborhood did not like the idea of an integrated party: โ€œCourse it may be all right to be in the same room with Negroes,โ€ the politician admitted, โ€œBut I wouldnโ€™t sit down at the table and eat with one.โ€ Carr told him they were not planning to serve food. But, according to Hodgman, she was quite disturbed. โ€œWhat if the Italians, who constituted the largest part of our population, bought tickets [to the event] out of politeness but did not come? A party said to be given by all who used Hull-House but attended only by the Negroes and the Mexicans would be a worse blow to the minority groups than if we had admitted in the first place that the plan would not work.โ€[42]

The night of the dance, called the Lilac Ball, lilacs were brought from the Bowen Country Club to decorate the hotel ballroom. The Hull-House residents dressed in evening clothes and worried about what might happen. Carr was visibly nervous: โ€œI wish to Heaven they were going to sell liquor,โ€ she remarked.[43]  This part of the plan had been dropped because some of the Hull-House trustees had objected. Hodgman described the scene at the hotel as the event got underway:

The Mexicans came, and the Greeks, and the Negroes. A Chinese boy and girl came, and one Armenian and one Japanese. The Italians came and Miss Carr came wearing an orchid . . . . The Mexicans were the fanciest dancers and had their pictures taken for the most newspapers. But the Italians were most at home and specialized in making people comfortable. The Negroes basked in unaccustomed warmth. Pretty soon it was crowded. Pretty soon someone told Miss Carr we had a thousand people.[44]

Carr had pushed the envelope of interracial activities at Hull-House further than almost any other agency in Chicago with the Jane Addams Memorial Lilac Ball. The African American newspaper the Chicago Defender acknowledged the eventโ€™s uniqueness and ran a picture with the caption: โ€œNegroes, Mexicans, Chinese, Italians, Poles, Irish, Greeks, Jews, Protestants, Catholics and almost every other racial and religious group were represented in the hundreds of guests who crowded the ballroom of the worldโ€™s largest hotel. The spectacle would have pleased the late Jane Addams and given Uncle Sam a good demonstration of real democracy.โ€[45]

Carr did not hesitate to threaten the deployment of Hull-House connections against instances of discrimination. Louise Gaines (Daugherty), an African American Bowen Country Club (BCC) counselor, relates one striking example. One day Gaines and an integrated group of girl campers walked perhaps five miles north to what is now Illinois Beach State Park. The area then was in private hands but open to the public. Refused entrance by security personnel, Gaines and the campers returned to BCC where, as it happened, the BCC Committee was meeting. Unaware of the beach debacle, Carr invited her to come and brief them. Gaines tells of Carrโ€™s response upon hearing the story:

Charlotte Carr got on the telephone. She wanted to know who owned [the land]. She got hold of somebody who said he was a lawyer. She said, โ€œWell, then Iโ€™ll talk to you, because this is a terrible case.โ€ So he said, โ€œWell, Iโ€™m just a lawyer. I only serve them when they call on me.โ€ And she said, โ€œWell, if you donโ€™t call on them and tell them about this, they will not be calling you anymore. Because we know that those people who own that [land], hope to sell it to the state. And we have friends in Springfield. If you think that our friends in Springfield are going to let the state buy that, you just think again. And youโ€™ll be out of a job too.โ€ She said, โ€œOne more thing. We have friends in Waukegan who are ministers. And if you think that thereโ€™s going to be a stream of cars in there after the ministers on Sunday morning say what your philosophy is, there wonโ€™t be two cars that come in there tomorrow morning.โ€ The next day, a man came down and they called me and I donโ€™t know whether he was the lawyer, but he apologized to me.[46]

This was an instance when Carr used the power of leadership by example at a time when the actual numbers of African Americans   enrolled in the four sessions of the summer camp were small.

The problems of neighborhood racial tensions on the Near West Side were more difficult to address. Carr established a community relations department at Hull-House in 1939 to reach the groups that lived in areas of demographic change who did not yet interact with the settlement house. Under the sponsorship of this department, two small neighborhood centers were started and operated by parents and a staff of neighborhood leaders who were made available by WPA funds. One center was in the African American district south of the settlement and filled a need that had long been recognized by the Hull-House Community Club. As mentioned above, the Community Club had met since the 1920s, but members had not been incorporated fully into settlement life. Carr did not force the Hull-House Womenโ€™s Club (white) and the Hull-House Community Club (black) to merge; such decisions in the voluntary associational context of private social settlements in the 1930s were outside the possibilities of even pro-interracialists like Carr. Instead, she focused on empowering the African American women who were club members to run this new center located in their own neighborhood, with WPA and Hull-House funds. The women also reached out to African American businessmen who helped with funding. Activities within the center included a morning pre-school play group, afternoon game periods for school children, weekly dances and English classes for adults, with WPA leadership supervised by the Recreation staff of Hull-House. A motherโ€™s club had been organized and was sponsored by members of the Hull-House Community Club. Carr felt that this center represented an activity where neighborhood leaders were making plans for themselves and carrying them out, with minimum guidance from Hull-House.[47]

Further attempting to enable authentic grass roots activism, Carr met with representative leaders of the African American community to โ€œdiscuss the future program of Hull-House with regard to the development of the West Side Negro Community.โ€[48] The meeting was held in the residentsโ€™ dining room. Those present were an impressive group, including representatives of the Chicago Urban League, the Joint Council of the Dining Car Employees, the National Negro Congress (NNC), the South Parkway Branch of the YMCA, the Chicago Defender, the Northern District Association of Colored Women, and the Study of the Chicago Negro Community.[49] By pulling together labor activists, clubwomen, social scientists, community activists, and religious leaders, Carr made it clear to the black community that she acknowledged their organizational strength and respected their local leaders. Sociologist Horace R. Cayton, Jr., who, with W. Lloyd Warner, was co-director of the Study of the Chicago Negro Community, chaired the meeting.[50] As a Popular Front activist, Carr saw the race question in the context of the larger industrial crisis; she easily cooperated with African Americans on the Leftโ€”Ishmael Flory, a labor leader with ties to the Communist Party, and George McCray, mentioned earlier, who was executive secretary of the National Negro Congress.[51]

Carr continued to advocate antidiscrimination legislation in housing and jobs when she testified before the Illinois State Commission on the Condition of the Urban Colored Population in 1941; she served on the Chicago Advisory Committee to the Commission.[52] Her engagement with radicals in the black community, and her outspoken advocacy of integrated public housing and integrated trade unions, placed her in the Left wing of the New Deal Democrats.

Cultural Production

The change in the Hull-House aesthetic after the arrival of Charlotte Carr reflected an ideological position that privileged interracialism on the one hand, and authentic working class cultural expression on the other. This twin agenda was possible because key personnel changes that occurred between 1935 and 1937[53] prepared the way for the more dramatic changes in the settlementโ€™s approach to art. One of the major changes can be seen in the approach to drama and tableaux, both in content and presentation. An examination of the material culture and programs of Hull-House reveals surprising evidence of the significant place of Western Christian religious art and music in the settlementโ€™s yearly calendar in its first forty-five years. The high point was the annual Christmas tableaux, an interdisciplinary pageant depicting the traditional story of the child in the manger. Photographs of the traditional Christmas tableaux compared with images of the outdoor crรจche display produced by people from the neighborhood during Charlotte Carrโ€™s years at Hull-House illustrate a radical departure under Carr in cultural production at the settlement. Viewing the staging of the Christmas tableaux in the Bowen auditorium at Hull-House reveals at a glance the formalism of cultural production during the Addams years. With an audience of neighborhood families, Hull-House residents, trustees, and wealthy supporters, the annual Christmas performance reinforced the concept that the interchange between rich and poor, Americans and immigrants, Catholics, Protestants and Jews, socialists and capitalists could be enriching for all; such experiences were designed to teach the unity of humanity and promote a civic life in a democracy that โ€œnaturalizedโ€ differences by equating the hegemonic Christian tradition with universal human values. Children from the neighborhood, including those from Jewish families, participated in the Christmas plays as actors and also took part in choral singing.[54] The pageants and plays were not meant to be a religious service or ritual, but a cultural experience.

From the perspective of late-nineteenth century American ruling elites, Jane Addams was an innovator, in the vanguard of a pro-immigrant cosmopolitanismthat was a minority position in an increasingly racialized world. So powerful, however, was the hegemonic message of universal humanism at Hull-House, regardless of its packaging in the cultural representation of Christian art, that one immigrant Jew minimized the Christian doctrine implied in the tableaux by interpreting it as โ€œa sort of folklore tradition.โ€[55]

Starr and Addams were grounded in the moral writings of the nineteenth century, the concept that the awakening of the childโ€™s reasoning and moral senses required exposure to ideals of the good, beauty, virtue, and truth that were imbedded in the aesthetic of Western religious art. In Hull-House this meant Madonnas in the crรจche and childrenโ€™s rooms and religious tableaux and reproductions of the great Renaissance artists as moral parables. In a democracy, Addams contended, there needed to be a cultural space in which to experience this โ€œmoralโ€ art that was separate from sectarian [religious] space.

The introduction in 1938 of ethnically specific religious expression, a turning away from the artificial unity of Christian moral art separated from worship, in the Christmas tableaux was dangerously close to incorporating the religious observance of each group. What it may have risked in terms of appearing to promote specific religious practice it gained in the sense of authenticity and empowerment ethnic and racial groups experienced when they were able to demonstrate their particular faith in a public place alongside others from related religious traditions. Neighbors responded positively to this new acceptance of unity through diversity of expression. Mrs. Koulla Konomidas, president of the recently revitalized Greek Mothersโ€™ Club at Hull-House โ€œthought the idea of Italians, Greeks, Mexicans, and Negroes working together on one program was โ€˜Good for us all,โ€™โ€ and she felt the tableaux โ€œโ€™were very beautiful.โ€™โ€[56]

Photographs of the traditional Christmas tableaux compared with images of the outdoor crรจche display โ€œproducedโ€ by people from the neighborhood during Charlotte Carrโ€™s years at Hull-House further illustrate a radical departure under Carr in cultural production at the settlement. The outdoor crรจche is the work of neighborhood artists without the intervention or direction of teachers.

There was also a subtle shift in the approach to childrenโ€™s theater. The educative function of theatrical performances was noted by Addams and her colleague Edith de Nancrede.[57] The proliferation of childrenโ€™s clubs that performed plays was part of a concerted effort to socialize neighborhood children; club members remained affiliated as young adults and retained friendships. Children were taught dancing before they evolved to taking on more ambitious stage performances; dancing was orderly, formal, and taught students etiquette, and made them receptive to instruction that once imprinted, translated to acceptable social behavior for daily life. From a young age club members were introduced to literary form, historical content, and were taught diction, projection, elocution, and movement.[58] While children were given choices within a supervised and well-guided program, there was less emphasis on spontaneity, improvisation, and creativity.[59]

Other changes in the art programs during the Carr years are significant. The retirement or death of key residents in the art, music, and drama departments occurred at the same time that government-sponsored art programs under the New Deal brought new opportunities to re-tool Hull-House art programs; initially, a new group of art teachers and resident artists opened up graphic arts workshops at the settlement through the Graphic Arts Division of the Illinois Art Project (IAP) that was supervised by artist Carl Hoeckner from 1935 to 1938.[60]

More ambitious, however, was the effort to create an art center at Hull-House. Part of the broader effort to support the peopleโ€™s art, the art center movement rejected superimposing โ€œpreconceived ideas of art,โ€ in favor of finding, developing and broadening โ€œthe indigenous culture of the community.โ€[61] Charlotte Carr and forward-thinking architect and city planner William F. Deknatel[62] with close ties to the settlement, began a negotiation with the Illinois Art Project that satisfied the guidelines of the federal program and also advanced Hull-Houseโ€™s interests in revitalizing and modernizing its facilities and programs. George Thorp, who became head of the IAP in 1938, pushed community art centers and childrenโ€™s art programs, two initiatives overlooked by the unpopular and conservative former IAP director, Increase Robinson.[63] Deknatel consulted with Thorp in the summer of 1939 and worked out an arrangement:[64] the IAP would participate in โ€œdirectorship and supplying staff and helpers whereas the supplying of plant, equipment, materials and general administration is Hull-House responsibility.โ€

The settlement had a good deal of space but a very small budget and Deknatelโ€™s solution was to โ€œenlist enough private assistance to enable us to put our plant on a more modern basisโ€ and he convinced Frank Lloyd Wright, who was critical of federal programs, to chair a sponsoring committee to raise funds.[65] Carr had been concerned about the Hull-House contribution to an expanded art program and also was aware in 1939 that all the federal art programs risked cancellation or budget cuts. Reassured by Deknatelโ€™s efforts to develop private resources, the newly named Hull-House Art Center began its collaboration with the Illinois Art Project in October 1939. Emily Edwards became the Hull-House Art Center director,[66] and William B. Fyfe of the IAP supervisor of the department.[67] By 1940 Hull-House was calling the new art department โ€œThe Hull-House Center & Design Workshop and listed among its staff artists Macena Barton, Todros Geller, Edward Millman, Bernece Berkman, Julio de Diego, Carl Hoeckner, and Emily Edwards. Deknatel, who was responsible for the focus on design, envisioned developing community-based planning initiatives thru classes and workshops held at the center.[68]

The cultural production agenda merged with the new politics of interracialism when African American art was exhibited in the Benedict Art Gallery at the settlement. The gallery, which opened in May 1938, exhibited โ€œartwork by Chicago Negro artistsโ€ July 6th to 24th.[69] We have virtually no information about this exhibition which was arguably the first one of its kind at the settlement house.[70] Over a year later, however, an exhibition of seventy-two paintings and sculpture by African American artists, again at the Benedict Art Gallery, received wide publicity in the black and mainstream press. Conservative art critic Eleanor Jewett mentioned the event in her Chicago Tribune column without critical comment; noted Chicago Daily News critic C. J. Bulliet reviewed the show and deemed it โ€œwell-chosenโ€, but found the paintings โ€œlargely โ€˜derivative,โ€™ and of about the same caliber of work by white artists of leftist tendencies who over concern themselves with the woes of the downtrodden race.โ€[71]

Bulliet focused on the โ€œrace melancholyโ€ he found in most of the paintings and the sculpture, although he acknowledged that Nate Thomas โ€œha[d] avoided screeching melodramaโ€ in his figure of โ€œa nude young Negro lashed to a tree stump,โ€ the victim of a lynching. Bulliet compared โ€œthe presentation of suffering now passedโ€ in the Thomas depiction of a southern lynching with the emotional content found in some medieval sculpture of Christ being taken from the cross. Bulliet found the paintings expressive, and admitted that โ€œoccasionally the Negro artists . . . put into their pictures something genuinely racial without being maudlin.โ€ But he was disturbed that โ€œthe show never gets quite happy,โ€ a remark revealing more about the critic than the art on display.[72]

Only African American journalist Willard Motley, who featured the exhibit in the National Urban Leagueโ€™s magazine, Opportunity, saw real talent and the promise of greatness in the art.[73]

The artists included sculptors Nate Thomas and Olivia Caldwell; and painters Charles White, Eldzier Cortor, Bernard Goss, Charles Davis, William Carter, Henry Avery, Ramon Gabriel, Charles Sebree, Earl Walker, and Fred Hollingsworth. This was an impressive array of young talent, a new generation following โ€œthe trail blazed . . . by William E. Scott, Archibald J. Motley, Charles G. Dawson and William Farrow.โ€[74] Motley was enthusiastic about the new group โ€œallowed to express itself through the assistance of the Federal Art Projectโ€ and he argued that โ€œmost of the canvases have a decisive, finished appearanceโ€”disproving the opinion of many white critics who feel that the Negro artist should have something primitive in his soul that should find its way to the canvasโ€; For Motley, the paintings by Charles White (โ€œLust for Bread,โ€ โ€œGussie,โ€ and โ€œEvangelistโ€)were โ€œpowerfulโ€; Eldzier Cortor, โ€œperhaps the most original of the groupโ€ showed โ€œremarkable versatilityโ€ in such paintings as โ€œBrother and Sister,โ€ โ€œAnd So To Bed,โ€ and โ€œWhere Once A Dwelling Stood.โ€ He thought Charles Davis had โ€œa number of outstanding canvases, chief among them โ€˜Low Cost of Living,โ€™โ€ which Motley thought was โ€œhandled in almost a Utrillo tone.โ€ Rejecting the idea that some white critics heldโ€”that Negro art work should be crude and unfinishedโ€”Motley chose, instead, to define this new group of black artists in the cosmopolitanism of the large city in which they lived and painted and view them alongside white artists who were also working with an urban vocabulary. Of the painters, Motley considered Fred Hollingsworth โ€œthe lone primitiveโ€ and judged Davis, Cortor, and White the strongest of the group. They, with Goss and possibly Carter, โ€œseem[ed] to have the best chance to really โ€˜arriveโ€™ [in the art world] some day.โ€[75]

In its efforts to showcase local African American artists, Hull-House settlementโ€”as a white institutionโ€”had taken the lead in an acknowledgement of the achievements of black visual artists and had broken the color line that had kept African American artists out of the galleries and museums of the city. It is curious that none of the reviews or news articles of the exhibit, including mentions in the Chicago Defender, comment on this dimension of the event. Perhaps the venue, outside the rooms and halls of high culture in downtown Chicago, allowed reviewers/viewers to see the work as cultural artifact and not necessarily as โ€œprofessionalโ€ art. This argument about the nature of African American cultureโ€”its primitiveness; its folk quality; its lack of completion as an art formโ€”was exactly what Alain Locke and others attacked in the effort to redefine black culture. Willard Motleyโ€™s review in Opportunity makes clear that the artists are authentic and must be judged like any other artists as well as in terms of their particular experiences. Motleyโ€™s review is influenced by the viewpoint he has taken as a writer who places himself in an interracial urban milieu and refuses to be limited by an ethnic or racial category.

The 1939 Benedict Gallery exhibit of African American artists was held less than a year before the American Negro Exposition opened at the Chicago Coliseum on the cityโ€™s Near South Side. The Art Exhibition of the Negro Exposition included work by Charles White, Eldzier Cortor, Henry Avery, Charles Davis, Bernard Goss, and Charles Sebreeโ€”all artists whose work had been shown at the settlement.[76] The American Negro Exposition, planned to commemorate the seventy-fifth Anniversary of the Emancipation Proclamation, and funded partly by the Illinois State Legislature, was an implicit rebuff of the Jim Crow policy of the gallery and museum world of Chicago.[77] The Hull-House settlement embraced this rejection of cultural Jim Crow and, instead, saw itself in the vanguard of creating interracial cultural space.

Carr also encouraged new literary productions by residents and neighbors which reflected the settlementโ€™s embrace of cultural production from the bottom up. This was in keeping with earlier attempts to encourage cultural production by the neighborhood people. During Adena Miller Richโ€™s short tenure as Head Resident, the Hull-House Octagon appeared.  Nicely printed by young men from the neighborhood in the Hull-House print shop, Octagon had a traditional format with headlines, and news stories about activities at the settlement. The writers were also neighborhood young adultsโ€”perhaps high school ageโ€”whose Italian surnames indicated they came from families with deep connections to Hull-House. Florence Giovangelo would in the 1950s and early 1960s emerge as a community leaderโ€”Florence Scalaโ€”in the politics of urban renewal. Noteworthy about Octagon was its production solely by young people from the neighborhood. They included items about their social life and even teasing references to personality quirks and romantic foibles, which seemed to indicate that Octagon was a publication for their consumption. This distinguished it from the bulletins and yearbooks Hull-House had produced with a different audience in mind during Jane Addamsโ€™s tenure. The annual yearbooks, for example, repeated basic information about clubs and classes, sometimes with up-dates, and even re-used photographs.[78] They were a formal representation of the philosophy and programs of the settlement house entirely through the lenses of the colony of women who, with Addams, ran it, and, most likely, these publications were seen as an organ of publicity and dissemination to a broad readership of potential and actual supporters outside the neighborhood. Rarely are the individuals depicted in the undated photographs named; this anonymity of participants (the neighbors), coupled with the re-use of the images, ironically gives the yearbooks, a genre marking time, a timeless quality.  Unfortunately there are few, if any, traces of publications written by the groups who came to Hull-House regularly over multiple years, until we get to the Octagon.[79]  

Block News, an informal mimeographed newspaper edited by Dewey E. Jones, was a new departure for the settlement.  During 1939 it appeared weekly and contained news articles covering music, art, and theater, publicizing upcoming events and encouraging residentsโ€™ and neighborsโ€™ participation; it emphasized events related to progressive political causes and performances that reflected the values of multiculturalism and inter-racialism. 

Above all there was a blurring of the boundaries between the settlement house and the community. There were the insidersโ€”among the residents and the neighborsโ€”who knew the new lingo and the personalities. Expanding on the human interest notes that began appearing in the Octagon, Block News stories weaved information about individual neighbors and broke down the barriers between those who offered the community service through the programs and activities of the settlement, and those who came to the 13-building complex to partake of educational, social, recreational, and cultural opportunities.

Carr also endorsed the efforts of a group of writers who were in residence at the settlement when they planned to start a literary magazine on the style of the โ€œlittle magazinesโ€ that had cropped up outside of mainstream publishing houses during the 1920s and 1930s. Hull-House Magazine, edited by William P. Schenk, with Alexander Saxton and Willard Motley as associate editors, first appeared in November of 1939. There were a total of three issues between 1939 and 1940.[80]  Schenk and Saxton were residents at the settlement; the former โ€œwas an enormous admirer and friend of Carl Sandburgโ€ and the latter was a University of Chicago student with literary ambitions.[81] An African American from an educated and talented middle-class family, Motley was raised on Chicagoโ€™s South Side in the almost all-white Englewood neighborhood. His father, Archibald Motley, Sr., was a Pullman porter, and his brother, Archibald, Jr., eighteen years older than Willard, was well-known as an artist.[82] In this household Motley had been encouraged to follow his interest in writing; he published his stories and articles from the age of thirteen and through his column in the Defender, had become a local personality.[83] Motley attended the Englewood High School at a time when just a small minority of African American students was in attendance.[84]

After graduation in 1929, Motley turned away from his middle-class background in pursuit of a literary career. He was influenced by novelists Nelson Algren and James T. Farrell, as well as โ€œDepression-era road reportageโ€[85] and spent years traveling in the United States before he moved, in 1938, to the Maxwell Street neighborhood of Chicago near Hull-House.[86]

Little is known about how the Hull-House Magazine came to be (or why, for that matter, it only produced three issues). The moment was ripe for such a literary collaboration under Charlotte Carrโ€™s warm embrace of activism, cultural expression, and interracial exchange.  Several themes dominated the three issues of the magazine. One was the identification of the contemporary social struggle as a class struggle, with the writers and editors situating themselves as workers; they felt no contradiction in identifying their struggle for personal recognition as producers of culture with the struggle for transformation of the capitalist system.   They chose to end economic and social inequality by unleashing the power of democracy itself. Democracy was at risk in the neighborhood and in the world; the masses were inherently good, but needed awakening, education, organization, but this process could not be imposed from on high by professional social workers. The writers generally supported New Deal programs, trade unions, experiments in the cooperative movement and public housing; they were critical of the rich, large corporations, politicians who were on the take, and bourgeois culture. Overall, their faith in โ€œthe peopleโ€ would have appeared hopelessly simplistic, but was saved by the social realism that portrayed the magazineโ€™s major subject matterโ€”the world of the Hull-House neighborhoodโ€”with all its blemishes, inconsistencies, and even its criminal elements. 

From the editors and writers standpoint, in its sympathetic, but realistic, portrayal of โ€œthe peopleโ€ (three years after the publication of Carl Sandburgโ€™s The People, Yes, the Great Depressionโ€™s epic poem), The Hull-House Magazine unequivocally and unabashedly promoted democracy in a world where democratic institutions were imperiled. The short stories, reportage on the people along Halsted Street and the Near West Side, and art work of the magazine reveled in common place activities, marveled at the diversity of peoples and their cultures, and sang the praises of the natural generosity of the working class who were willing to share whatever modest resources they had with needy neighbors.

Writers included experienced and inexperiencedโ€”published and those who hoped to be published. Alice E. Treleaven, Don Morris, Harvey Oโ€™Connor, Milton S. Mayer, Lawrence Hodges, Beatrice Schenk, John Oโ€™Connell, Morris Mitchell signed articles in addition to the three editors. Mitchell lived in the neighborhood and gave guided tours at Hull-House; Oโ€™Connell did not live at Hull-House; he was formerly employed as a receptionist at the Illinois Research Hospital and, in 1940, was unemployed. Milton S. Mayer was a Hull-House resident, a writer, and on the staff of the University of Illinois in the office of the president. Don Morris lived at Hull-House and was a publicity writer at the University of Chicago. Beatrice Schenk, Williamโ€™s wife, was a social worker. Alice Treleaven lived at Hull-House where she taught citizenship and English courses and chaired the United Conference on the High Cost of Living. Lawrence Hodges was a Hull-House resident.  He had worked in co-operative stores and was with the Railroad Retirement Board. Harvey Oโ€™Connor was, at the time, the most published of the group.

The most striking feature of Hull-House Magazine is the fascination with the neighborhood, which is portrayed in black and white graphics by William Jacobs, who during this period was a WPA artist, and by Alexander Saxton. Using varied genresโ€”short story, parable, sociological or ethnographic sketch, journalismโ€”the writers and editors devoted the majority of the space to portrayals of the local scene. For example, in the first issue, an article by Willard Motley, โ€œHull-House Neighborhood,โ€ describes the street: โ€œPeople come out on the street. A formless, rabble rank of shapeless bodies, hunched shoulders, hard faces. A scare-crow parade of battered felts, baggy pants, ragged coats.โ€[87] One shift of steel mill and factory workers come home, back โ€œto their cavern shacksโ€ while another heads out for work as milk trucks circle the dairy, ready for morning deliveries. He notes the synagogue on Union Avenue, with ancient Hebrew script on its walls; the frame convent on Newberry where โ€œthrough the soft-lit window one sees the sisters in their gentle black as they kneel at prayerโ€”their hands like the spreading wings of doves. St. Francisโ€™ bell blesses the neighborhood; Halstedโ€™s angelus calling a sparse flock.โ€[88]

The short piece ends as the morning has arrived fully. โ€œThe sun now puts a gold-plate on the streets. And even Maxwell is a charming lane, sunny and bright…This neighborhood in early morning has a beauty all its own. And somehow these are clean streets, fresh streets, hopeful streets.โ€[89]

Just as the neighborhood itself is a physical presence replete with contradictionsโ€”ugliness and beauty; despair and hopeโ€”the people, too, offer up their contradictions. Beyond this, the neighborhood while local, also stands for universal truths. The second issue of the magazine is even more focused than the first in developing the street as metaphor for larger political and social ideas. Editor Schenk introduces the contents with a short prose-poem, โ€œThis Our Neighborhoodโ€ that intimates this local space can stand for โ€œother cities in all directions everywhere.โ€[90]

There is a sense that โ€œthe peopleโ€ of the neighborhood are quiet at the moment, but they are potential agents of social change. Motleyโ€™s โ€œPavement Portraitsโ€ is made up of short pieces: The Street; Crap Shooters; Lady in the Half-Light of A Doorway; and A Handful. These describe prostitutes, preachers, petty criminals, gamblers and alcoholics. The street is local and global, โ€œa small hub around which a little world revolvesโ€ connected to Jerusalem, Africa, Mexico, Italy, and Greece. The people are humanized, not judged; they are found to be surprisingly intelligent, generous to one another, even though living in poverty, accepting and tolerant. Motley describes the ecology of poverty with these portraits on the pavement: the bums pick through the garbage behind the restaurant; thrifty individuals collect pieces of wood, old lumber, broken orange crates to use for fuel during the cold winter. Trying not to romanticize the neighbors, Motley ends: โ€œYes, they live here. The weary men, the haggard women, the ragged children. They live hereโ€”portraits in pavement.โ€[91] Characteristic of his writing style and his loner stanceโ€”Motley never conformed to the worker writer modelโ€”there is no specific political message here. Nor do his characters voice a political message. Again in Motleyโ€™s โ€œHandfulsโ€ stories that appear in the last volume of the magazine, the working class and poor peopleโ€™s generosity to each other is iterated, followed by a quote from Jane Addams: โ€œIn every neighborhood where poorer people live, because rents are supposed to be cheaper there, is an element which, although uncertain in the individual, in the aggregate can be counted upon.โ€[92]

Schenkโ€™s โ€œAchilles of Halsted Street,โ€ a biography of a local Greek immigrant, unlike Motleyโ€™s stories, demonstrates the politics of the main character in a talky manner. The piece is about the realized and the unfulfilled promise of America. Schenk quotes his subjectโ€™s words: โ€œโ€™Whatโ€™s wrong with this country? You want to know whatโ€™s wrong? I tell you. Itโ€™s the rich people. Theyโ€™re wrong. They have a sickness thatโ€™s the wrong with this country. They have the sickness to make more, always to get more and more. Thatโ€™s their sickness. Thatโ€™s whatโ€™s wrong with this country.โ€™โ€[93] Two neighborhood parables by Milton S. Mayer continue on this anti-capitalist theme; Mayerโ€™s rich men live unhappy lives. In โ€œCabrini Street Fablesโ€ a very unhappy rich man is made happy, ironically, when presented with a blueprint presented of a shroud with pockets. Hull-House Magazine, November 1939, Vol. 1, No. 1, 16. โ€œCabrini Street Fables: IIโ€ is a moral tale about whether or not a man who lost his money and who stole food for his children was good or bad; in heaven, God determines that the man who stole bread and cheese to feed his family because he was a victim of circumstances, was a good man; but that the so-called upstanding man who owned eighty-six utility companies and made profits even when the companies went sour, was not a good man. Hull-House Magazine, December 1939, Vol. I, No. II, 13..

Alice Treleaven has an article on consumer cooperatives or organizations as they are called. She describes a variety of efforts that consumers are making. There are no specifics given, nor are any local organizers mentioned; no report on what Hull-House per se is doing about consumer organizations or even if they have one. Hull-House Magazine, November 1939, Vol. 1, No. 1, 8. On the other hand, Lawrence Hodgesโ€™s article about โ€œCo-operation at Hull-Houseโ€ had not much to report, since the Halsted Street Co-operative Society โ€œis as yet only beginning to attain the ends desired. It plans many things to make social and economic organization more effective.โ€ Hull-House Magazine, November 1939, Vol. 1, No. 1, 18.

Harvey Oโ€™Connor in his โ€œTo Break the Charmed Circle,โ€ proposed a plan to provoke political awareness and action among the vast majority of apathetic citizens in Chicago. The vehicle for the provocation was to be a four-page monthly publicationโ€”short on text, long on illustrations, imagesโ€”to be written by the politically savvy, published for distribution by about 10,000 willing participants who pledge to hand out 10 copies; and a thousand of the 10,000 will pledge to distribute 100 copies. The content of the four-page monthly will be the basic facts of life that informed citizens need to know in order to be energized to participate intelligently in the political process as voters. Oโ€™Connor reflected the political doldrums that so many progressives were feeling at the end of 1939. His idea was not to create a political organization duplicating present parties and groups, but to serve as an auxiliary to all progressive civic groups, interested either in one or in all subjects. This process of identifying important facts that John Q. Public needed to know so that engagement and activism or participation in the political process would follow, was a way to get rid of the bewilderment and apathy Oโ€™Connor believed was paralyzing progressives; it gave progressives a focus and a way to harness themselves for a simple, productive task. (Hull-House Magazine, November 1939, Vol. 1, No. 1, 12-13.)

Beatrice Schenkโ€™s โ€œThe Childrenโ€™s Group Theatreโ€ reported on the childrenโ€™s drama programs at the settlement under the direction of Viola Sills and Ed Spolin. Schenk highlighted the underlying agenda of the childrenโ€™s drama work: it was to unleash the creativity of each child rather than to perfect a theatrical production. โ€œIn Sillsโ€™ group,โ€ Schenk explained, โ€œit doesnโ€™t matter whether or not the kids know the linesโ€”but they have to know the meaning of the lines and of the play; and they have to develop characters that have meaning.โ€ Hull-House Magazine, November 1939, Vol. 1, No. 1, 19. At Hull-House โ€œthe children exercise their inalienable right to create. They are learning to be intelligent audiences. Honesty of subject matter and presentation are expected of them in their own work….โ€ (Hull-House Magazine, November 1939, Vol. 1, No. 1,20-21).

Alexander Saxtonโ€™s โ€œThe Road to Damascusโ€ is a consideration of the ethical value, comparatively, of saloons and religious missions. Halsted Street had an abundance of both. Saxton was not original in his sociological observations; residents at Hull-House had realized that there were positive functions served by saloons; and they were predisposed to being analytical and skeptical about conversions at missions. Hull-House Magazine, December 1939, Vol. I, No. II,18.

John Oโ€™Connell writes an article โ€œClinical Sketchesโ€ about his experience working in the dispensary of a large hospital one mile west of Hull-House. These are very short paragraphs about individual cases and are impressionistic glimpses rather than exhaustive case studies. Hull-House Magazine, December 1939, Vol. I, No. II, 26.

Morris Mitchell, a volunteer non-resident, was paid by the WPA to serve as a guide at Hull-House. He was hired in 1938. Mitchellโ€™s article evokes the language and ideas of Carr, her staff, and residents. โ€œMiss Carr was very democratic and consulted my wishes about every detail. She imposed no regulations as to what I was to say or how I was to say it. I would be put in possession of the necessary sources of information. The rest was up to me. Here was liberty and democracy enoughโ€”and no chance for an alibi in case of failure.โ€

(Morris Mitchell, โ€œOn Being A Guide at Hull-House,โ€ Hull-House Magazine, January 1940, Vol. I, No. III, 3). But then Mitchell contradicted himself when he explained how HH resident John Kennicott Brenton trained him: โ€œWe visited every place to which sightseers are taken, and he told me what to say, and occasionally what not to say, at each point. Did I know what a settlement house was?โ€ (Morris Mitchell, โ€œOn Being A Guide at Hull-House,โ€ Hull-House Magazine, January 1940, Vol. I, No. III, 3). After this process Mitchell said โ€œHull-House and its residents, I was glad to discover, bore no resemblance to my former vague ideas of reforms and reformers. Hull-House was a poor manโ€™s schoolโ€”a meeting place and a university for the people. And here lived intelligent persons, thoughtful people, men and women who cared. Here they had erected an oasis of tolerance and intelligence and light in that desert of self-seeking, of often reckless and irresponsible self-seeking, as it seemed to me, called Chicago.โ€ (Morris Mitchell, โ€œOn Being A Guide at Hull-House,โ€ Hull-House Magazine, January 1940, Vol. I, No. III, 4.)

John Kennicott Brenton, 67 [in 1953], member of a pioneer Chicago family and active for many years in social work, died yesterday in Billings, Montana, where he had lived since 1947. From 1935 to 1947 he was a resident in Hull-House. He moved to Billings to become supervisor of social work for the bureau of Indian Affairs. (“J. Kennicott Brenton.” Chicago Tribune, Sept. 14, 1953, pg. B10.) Kennicott Brenton was chair of the residentsโ€™ committee at Hull-House. (โ€œTribute Paid An Old Friend of Hull House,โ€ Chicago Tribune, Dec. 3, 1943, pg. 22.)

Since visitors came from all over the country, and from foreign countries, too, Mitchell found that his work as a guide allowed him โ€œto have his finger on the pulse of Americaโ€”even of the whole world.โ€ Morris Mitchell, โ€œOn Being A Guide at Hull-House,โ€ Hull-House Magazine, January 1940, Vol. I, No. III, 7. โ€œAnother one [of the advantages of being a guide] is the opportunity, ass part of this organization, to do oneโ€™s bit for tolerance, democracy, personal liberty and enlightenment in this changing world, let us say, to help democracy solve some of her new problemsโ€”problems that must be solved if she is to hold her place, or to advance in these times.โ€ Morris Mitchell, โ€œOn Being A Guide at Hull-House,โ€ Hull-House Magazine, January 1940, Vol. I, No. III, 7.

This third number, and probably what is the last issue of the magazine, had an appeal for submissions by others to the editors. The editors saw themselves as โ€œmiddle-men between two groupsโ€ the one writing and other reading.โ€ What they needed was writers submitting articles or essays, short stories or poems, notes about experiences โ€œwhich you have had in Hull-House or in the neighborhood: anything significant, or funny, or peculiar, written up in one or two paragraphsโ€; letters; criticism; Hull-House Magazine, January 1940, Vol. I, No. III,8.  In this same issue Harvey Oโ€™Connorโ€™s โ€œMansion On Earthโ€ supports public housing and details the support for public housing put forward by Ed Konomidus, a member of the Greek Olympic Club; Konomidus, says Oโ€™Connor, find the โ€œโ€™only trouble about the Jane Addams Housesโ€™โ€ is that โ€œโ€™there ought to be a hundred of them all over the city, or a thousand. Why should people have to live in dark houses where children get sick?โ€™โ€ Harvey Oโ€™Connor, โ€œMansion On Earth,โ€ Hull-House Magazine, January 1940, Vol. I, No. III,15. As Oโ€™Connor puts it, โ€œto thousands who live there, these Houses are not so much the Chicago of Tomorrow as paradise today.โ€ Harvey Oโ€™Connor, โ€œMansion On Earth,โ€ Hull-House Magazine, January 1940, Vol. I, No. III,12. Oโ€™Connor quotes from Mrs. Konomidis and also Salvatore Grieco and Ed Konomidis in what almost sound like testimonials. Oโ€™Connor draws in wonderful detail the way in which these individuals had interacted with Hull-House: โ€œMrs. Konomidis herself has taught weaving at the [Jane Addams] Houses. โ€˜You learned in the old country?โ€™ โ€˜Oh no, I learned at Hull-House, and Miss Edwards helped us to get started over here.โ€™ She showed work that she had done herselfโ€”beautiful drapes that would grace a Gold Coast home but which actually hung in her own rooms. Although the Houses have plenty of clubs, Mrs. Konomidis still comes over to Hull-House for meetings of the Greek Mothersโ€™ Club.โ€ Harvey Oโ€™Connor, โ€œMansion On Earth,โ€ Hull-House Magazine, January 1940, Vol. I, No. III,13.

โ€œSalvator Grieco and Ed Konomidis were both pioneers at the Jane Addams Houses. Grieco lived on Racine, just opposite from where they were building the new Houses; he and his wife used to look in to see how the work was getting on. But he hesitated about moving. โ€˜I was on WPA then, and you know how that is. I didnโ€™t know whether we could keep up the rent regularly, and people were saying that if you didnโ€™t pay on the first, youโ€™d be kicked out on the fifth, and that investigators would always be  snooping around.โ€™ Harvey Oโ€™Connor, โ€œMansion On Earth,โ€ Hull-House Magazine, January 1940, Vol. I, No. III,13.

โ€œโ€™And were they?โ€™ โ€˜Oh no. The only investigator who ever came into our apartment was an inspector who wanted to see if the rooms had been painted properly. And the management has a heartโ€”people arenโ€™t kicked out if they [  ]to pay and have any prospect of paying. I guess these rumors were the work of the landlords.โ€™โ€ Harvey Oโ€™Connor, โ€œMansion On Earth,โ€ Hull-House Magazine, January 1940, Vol. I, No. III,13.

How reliable were the people? How far could political and social activists count on โ€œthe peopleโ€? Alex Saxtonโ€™s article in the first issue argued that democracy was being challenged by the power of big business. He questioned England and Franceโ€™s argument that the coming war was necessary to defend democracy. Instead he saw France and England fighting to defend their world dominance as colonial powers. In 1939 Saxton, along with many on the Left, was anti-war and identified the real enemy facing the United States not in Germany or Russia, but in the domestic troubles of industrial capitalism in the U.S. These economic problems, Saxton feared, would not be solved by the U.S.โ€™s entrance into a world war and, instead, would threaten democracy because of the concomitant consolidation of power that such an undertaking would necessitate. As much as he championed โ€œthe people,โ€ he was concerned that in a war mode, it was possible that the country โ€œmay accept government for the people by big businessโ€ which would be the end of democracy.[94] Historically, when confronted with serious challenges, Saxton noted โ€œthe people turns back to answers that were adequateโ€ at an earlier time. โ€œIt shuts its eyes to actual conditions, and trusts in ritual phrasesโ€”free competition, due process of law, land of the free, always room at the top. It is the people which becomes emotionally attached to old institutions, and which with the highest motives resists all efforts to keep democracy functioning.โ€[95] 

It was in the theater department that change under Carr most resembled the style and ideology of the Cultural Front. Jess Ogden described the manner in which theater functioned to bring “about a harmony of the various groups with which the settlement must work.” He noted that there was a large Mexican group that had three factions composed respectively of Catholics, Communists, and liberals. Someone in the Hull-House staff came up with the idea of having a real Mexican fiesta. This became an opportunity to unite the various factions. Hull-House during the Addams’s years scheduled an Italian night or a German night, but never attempted to incorporate the Italian street festa as a vehicle for promoting mutuality and understanding between the various factions within the Italian community. Ogden explained how Hull-House used the Mexican fiesta: “The older people of all factions were invited to recall traditions and customs and to help with the planning of the carnival. The younger people went to work on pageants and plays, each faction planning something in which it was especially interested. The help of other actors were enlisted and three episodes in the history of Mexico were finally produced before an audience composed of the entire community in carnival mood. Not only did the factions forget their differences in admiring each other’s contributions, but also there resulted a better understanding on the part of other groups in the community.” Both Ogden and Helen Tieken Geraghty, who also worked on the carnival, believed that the change wrought by the fiesta was not merely temporary but had lasting value.[96]

Halsted Street is the best example of how Carr and Ogden used the arts to foster racial and ethnic integration and cooperation. Hodgman said Ogden wanted the play “to have guts” and believed it had the power to pull together “all the existing dramatic groups” and, in addition, “dozens of others” including “neighborhood people as well as residents.”[97] She quoted Ogden as saying, “I’d like to tie up all these little crotchety groups we’ve got here at Hull House, get ’em to work together on one big project that is as socially significant as all Hell. Get a lot of residents in on it too. Be good for ’em.”[98]

One of the residents who joined the project was Donna Hodgmanโ€™s husband, Crosby, who was asked by Ogden to take the part of the streetcar conductor.[99] “All Hull House now waited, breathless and highโ€”and I too,” Donna wrote. A week before the preview performance, the whole concept clicked for Donna: “Now at last I saw the stage with five levels . . . and the blackouts. I heard the music and the speech chorus. I saw little short skits on all sorts of subjects because all subjects belonged to Halsted Street[,] the longest street in Chicago.”[100]

Donna repeated the choral lyrics: “All races . . . all creeds . . . all colors . . . all degrees. Halsted Street was everything and everybody: Chicago and the world. Love was on Halsted Street, and fighting, and stealing, and dirt, and joy, and nobility.”[101]

The chorus of Halsted Street sang out: “Jane Addams saw and faced and met/These things that are to show/Hull-House must see, and face, and strive to meet. There’s a keener fire under the melting pot right now/ Than culture. It is common need.”[102] The message of the play is that the issues of industrial democracy have immediacy in this era of the Great Depression and provide the experience all share: “This is our living, all around us/ This is neither Negro Mexican nor Greek/ Nor Jew, Italian, nor Irish.โ€[103] Halsted Street previewed on May 19, 1939, to an audience of Hull-House Associates, a group that Charlotte Carr had put together to develop national support for the settlement. Robert Morss Lovett, a Hull-House resident mentioned earlier for his support of radical unemployed councils, was the main speaker at the dinner that evening, followed by the production of the play.[104] Following the preview for an audience who could pay one dollar for a ticket, the play was scheduled for the neighborhood, with tickets priced at fifteen cents.[105]

For Donna Hodgman, the play was a success: “Hundreds of people acted the parts of their own lives; hundreds of others saw, and could not avoid the knowledge that they saw themselves.”[106] She counted the success in the fact that “the warring factions of Hull House had learned to work together on a single project with unprecedented success. We knew that Mexicans, Negroes, Italians, Greeks, and just plain Americans had, for a little while, stood shoulder to shoulder.”[107] Yet a play is never the panacea for what ailed an institution like Hull-House in 1939. Three years later the Hodgmans left. Donna had been completely exhausted by her Hull-House job as House Manager.[108]

Jess Ogden, who felt that with Halsted Street they had “reached the saturation point” on pushing issues of social significance, turned once more to using the stage as a way of “getting all those warring groups working together.”[109] His production of The Pirates of Penzance included “almost everyone who had anything to do with Hull House” and was a triumph in cooperation “all the more significant” since Ogden left the settlement in 1941, one month before the opera was produced.[110] His leaving was the result of continuing budget problems. It signaled the end of Hull-House’s engagement with the rhetoric and style of the New Deal experiment with theater for the people. It also indicated that Carrโ€™s program for Workersโ€™ Education was at risk because of federal budget cuts.

Political and Labor Activism

Charlotte Carr did not simply protect the radicals who found Hull-House a welcoming place. Carr and the new staff that she immediately put together at Hull-House politicized the residents already at the house, and made them feel as if they were part of a social movement. Carrโ€™s politics were a matter of public record[111] and were in agreement with many activist social workers and settlement leaders nationwide who saw the benefits of the New Deal programs in their neighborhoods and who fought to maintain or increase the appropriations against mounting criticism of the FDR administration.[112] Bowen, who was personally involved in the hiring process, was also well aware of Carrโ€™s โ€œvery strong personalityโ€ and her deep interest in working-class issues. She supported hiring Carr as the first director (the former title of head resident was retired) who would receive a salary.[113] Later on, however, Bowen would find Carrโ€™s leadership unacceptable.

In many ways, Charlotte Carr picked up where Jane Addams had ended and renewed the settlementโ€™s commitment to offering political leadership for social movement causes. On the political front the new director immediately made herself known. Early in 1938, she convinced the trustees to agree to allow the Chicago Civil Liberties Committee to rent Bowen Hall to have a meeting on the policing of industrial disputes with a showing of the controversial Paramount newsreel of the 1937 Memorial Day Massacre in South Chicago near the Republic Steel Plant.[114] She endorsed the Gutknecht, a municipal judge who was running in the Democratic primary for stateโ€™s attorney.[115] A quote from Carr was prominently displayed in a campaign brochure that included endorsements from Eleanor Roosevelt; Dr. John Lapp, leading Catholic layman and chair of the Civil Liberties Committee; and Dr. Preston Bradley, pastor of the Peopleโ€™s Church, a progressive congregation in Chicago known for its social justice activism.[116]

By the end of the year, Carr was one of a group of New Dealers, academics, and labor leaders who had sent a telegram to Secretary of the Interior Harold Ickes asking him to run for mayor of Chicago.[117] The effort failed, but Carr had involved herself in the sectarian affairs of the Democratic Party of Cook County. She also revealed that her sympathies were with the Left-wing of the New Deal coalition. Carr liked Ickesโ€™ approach to unions and public housing (he supported expansion of both) and agreed with his efforts to end discrimination against African Americans in employment and housing.

A political pragmatist, Carr then used her name and the reputation of the Hull-House settlement to advance the cause of the Democratic candidate for mayor, Edward J. Kelly who would cooperate with New Deal programs. In a classic Carr move, she made sure that Mayor Fiorello La Guardia, her former boss in New York, stopped at Hull-House en route to San Francisco where he was visiting that cityโ€™s exposition. La Guardia held a news conference at the settlement, where he predicted that Kelly would win against the Republican candidate Dwight H. Green, saying, โ€œโ€˜If the major issue is the New Deal, the New Deal must win in a city like Chicago.โ€™โ€[118] Kellyโ€™s opponent, a mugwump-type high-minded Republican, most likely was a candidate far more acceptable to Louise Bowen, a lifelong Republican.[119] Bowen looked with alarm at the popularity of FDR and, on the local level, found the strengthening of machine politics that appeared to go hand-in-hand with the New Deal a frightening prospect. Carr, on the other hand, was ready and willing to deal with machine politicians and Left-leaning labor leaders to reach the goal of putting Americans back to work.  There was Bowenโ€™s anxiety, too, about whether or not traditional financial contributors to Hull-House would continue to support the settlement if Carrโ€™s pro-New Deal politics were too pronounced. โ€œI hope she will not be too violently for Roosevelt because almost all the money which supports the [Hull] House comes from [Wendell] Willkie supporters and they would not like our endorsing Rooseveltโ€ Bowen wrote in 1940.[120]           

Carr also brought a New Deal โ€œpoliticsโ€ to the internal organization of the settlement house. Here she was breaking new ground. She wanted residents and staffโ€”social workers, cooks, engineers, waiters and janitorsโ€”to be organized and to know their rights. In the old days the โ€œresidentsโ€[121] of the settlement, who were mainly affluent and well-educated young women and men following the volunteer example set by Jane Addams, had included radicals, socialists, labor leaders, and social reformers. Residents practiced self-government and made decisions about the daily details of group living as well as policy. After a period of probation, those already in residence voted a newcomer โ€œinโ€ or โ€œout.โ€ Residents paid room and board and agreed to volunteer their time in Hull-House activities. Some residents worked at jobs during the day. The majority of the residents were single women, but single men as well as married couples, occasionally with children, also lived at the settlement.[122]

Carr brought a new perspective to Hull-House as a result of her background in the field of labor.[123] It matched changes already occurring in the settlement movement where volunteerism was on the wane by the 1920s.[124] At Hull-House traditional residency continued to have a significant role in the settlement until 1963, but increasingly there were residents who served as โ€œstaffโ€ and received salaries, and staff who did not live at Hull-House. During the Carr years, the number of residents increased to around one hundred, with a greater proportion of residents functioning as paid staff, including many Works Progress Administration (WPA) workers.[125] For Carr, industrial democracy required that workers, including white-collar workers, join organizations. โ€œI donโ€™t know why it is thought shocking that social workers should be in a union,โ€ she wrote. โ€œTo me it is shocking that they are not.โ€ This was not primarily about better wages: โ€œThe need for organization among social workers is secondarily to better our own conditions. . . . [W]e need organization in order to have enough political power to go to our legislatures or to Washingtonโ€ since โ€œin a democracy we get action only as we work in an organized way, representing a certain number of votes.โ€[126] Carr reported strong interest among different groups at Hull-House to enter into union contracts; a group planned to join an AFL union for engineers.

More controversial was the desire, on the part of other staff membersโ€”social workers, coffee house workers, service workers, office workersโ€”to join the Social Service Employees Union (SSEU), a CIO affiliate. There were three unions in the social work field at the time: the union of public employees; the American Association of Social Workers (AASW) and the SSEU. The AASW was really a professional organization that became, with the National Conference of Social Work, โ€œthe countryโ€™s major organizational spokespeople for federal welfare.โ€[127] Carr was willing to negotiate with the SSEU, perceived as a new, militant union that did not have the respect of the established social work profession.[128] The trustees voiced concern over the SSEU, and even Edith Abbott, a valued former Hull-House resident and professor of public welfare of the University of Chicagoโ€™s School of Social Service Administration, feared that โ€œif Hull-House signed such a [SSEU] contract it would give great impetus to the organization [sic] movement, the usefulness of which has not been demonstrated, and would definitely align Hull-House with one faction in the dispute.โ€[129] Carr was given the authority to continue talks with the union groups and was successful in getting the approval of the trustees for the SSEU, the union that staff had organized. Essie Soffen, a Hull-House resident who began as Carr’s secretary but eventually became her administrative secretary, was elected chair of the union.[130] Leah Dickinson, an administrator under Carr, was also a SSEU member. This mix of waitresses and secretaries with individuals like Soffen and Dickinson, who were โ€œexecutives,โ€ caused another resident, Donna Hodgman, to observe that โ€œone had the feeling that the majority of those at the [SSEU] meetings were equipped with two masks, which they changed to fit the needs of the moment. One of course expressed loyalty and sense of responsibility to Miss Carr, to Mrs. Bowen . . . [and] the other mask, equally obviously, expressed our devotion to the welfare, particularly the economic welfare, of The People . . . the maids and janitors plus a very few office workers.โ€[131] Hodgman felt that the white-collar workers identified chiefly with the administration seldom seemed to feel that they had any problems; instead, โ€œit was the maids and janitors whose problems were usually under discussion.โ€[132]

Carr was eager to move quickly to implement a new approach to the education and support of workers. Hull-House had been influential in the early days of trade union organization, especially among garment workers. Addams, Julia Lathrop, Florence Kelley, and Edith and Grace Abbott championed protective legislation for women and children; they advocated a variety of welfare measures to establish what they believed was a humane standard of living for workers in the United States. Addams also was concerned about the psychological and intergenerational problems of immigrants, who she perceived experienced a combination of alienation, loss of parental authority, and inability to control the damaging influences to their children from the popular culture. Carr had a different approach to working-class culture, one that was expressed by the Leftโ€™s embrace of worker-initiated cultural production.

Carr caused conflict when she took aim at an iconic Hull-House institution: the Labor Museum. Established by Jane Addams in 1900, the Labor Museum was an attempt to present industrialization in an historic light for the benefit of workers in the neighborhoodโ€”factory laborers and immigrants whose European crafts were no longer relevant. Live

demonstrations of crafts by neighbors who were encouraged to wear the dress of their native lands, classes in crafts offered in an effort an intergenerational understanding and sharing, and displays on the walls and in cabinets illustrating sequential stages of production, were all part of the settlementโ€™s effort to historicize and valorize working-class experiences. To Carr these performances were antiquated and had little to do with the realities of working-class life. When Carr suggested that the looms and other equipment in the textile or weaving room โ€œbe put in some institution or museum, and the space used as a center for working men,โ€ the old guard trustees had to agree that the weaving room was not used very much. Carr, however, had to negotiate this change with the residents, who seemed more attached to the old weaving room, which had been the center of the Labor Museum.[133] Carr was anxious to use the space to provide specialized labor and legal aid service. A digest of labor law had been prepared by one of the Hull-House residents and was being reviewed by the Department of Labor. Carr hoped to distribute it as part of the legal aid service.

The major workersโ€™ project under Carr was Workers’ Education, which was a new department. It included citizenship, English, and workers’ education courses, and its program offered seventy-two classes with an attendance of 1,456. A weekly forum was established and two persons were employed to do industrial research work, to gather factual material and statistics as ammunition for civic campaigns. Clearly, Carr saw the department as having a significant political role in advocating for workersโ€™ rights and benefits.

In addition to creating more space for workersโ€™ education of a political nature, during Carrโ€™s administration the industrial shops were retooled and technical education updated. For example, in 1937, the National Youth Administration (NYA) established a machine-work class Hull-House, equipped with machines and lathes, and supervised by NYA and WPA people. In return for furnishing electricity, space, and materials, Hull-House would have the benefit of whatever work was done.[134]

Carr gathered an impressive staff to develop the Workersโ€™ Education department. Jess Ogden was committed to the idea that permeated the Federal Theatre Project and Workers’ Education in the 1930sโ€”using theater for workers’ education and for social change. Alice Treleavan, who had been employed by the Adult Education Project of the WPA teaching workers’ education at Chicago Commons, had left that position to work at Hull-House.

Residents at Hull-House eagerly awaited her arrival: “I heard that soon [1937] we were going to have a wonderful teacher, the best anyone had ever seen, Alice Treleavan, on our new staff,โ€ Hodgman wrote. โ€œShe would show us how to teach. If it were possible she would put life into our dull, staid brains so we would teach the people how to help themselves. Or, at any rate, we would teach them all about trade unions.”[135] Jerry Ingersoll, a Dartmouth College graduate, developed classes in civics and labor problems. Mary Wing assisted the Workersโ€™ Education Program as Research Assistant and Librarian. Leah Dickinson, an organizer for the Amalgamated Clothing Workers who had six years’ experience in settlementsโ€”Kinsley House in Pittsburgh, and Christadora and Union settlements in New Yorkโ€”was Charlotte Carr’s assistant.[136]

Carrโ€™s tenure with Hull-House ended in December 1942, after only five years; according to Carr, she had been fired.[137] There were charges of budget extravagance under Carrโ€™s administration, and in a newspaper interview, Louise Bowen, president of the board, admitted that Carrโ€™s political activities were a problem.[138] Another unnamed board member pointed out that the budget at the end of 1942 had been balanced for the first time in six years, with larger contributions than ever before[139] and the record indicates that there was no budget crisis.[140] Bowen did not articulate what arguably was Carrโ€™s real sin: successful efforts at organization and empowerment of the neighborhood. This would have been threatening in itself, but Carr believed that the neighborhood people must participate fully in the affairs of the settlement. She saw Hull-House as the communityโ€™s organization. This effort to curtail the authority of Charlotte Carr marked a turning point in the settlementโ€™s role in the neighborhood. โ€œMiss Carrโ€™s departure, it was learned today,โ€ a newspaper article reported, was the signal for a long-standing controversy between the Hull House directorate and the Hull House customers to come to focus in the form of these three demands on the former by the latter:

1. Representation by bona fide residents of the neighborhood where [sic] the historic old settlement house does business on the board.

2. Recognition of a management committee made up of church, businessmenโ€™s and similar groups in the neighborhood.

3. A voice in the selection of Miss Carrโ€™s successor.[141]

None of the demands was met.

Carrโ€™s boldness in attempting to bring the residents of the neighborhood into the settlement as partners in determining the direction of Hull-House, political columnist Sydney J. Harris argued, โ€œoften antagonized some board members, as did her insistence upon entering political controversies when she felt the welfare of โ€˜the little people was at stake.โ€™โ€[142] Carr believed that she, as director of Hull-House, represented the little people against the special interests.

While many people who agreed with her approach liked to say she was carrying out the legacy of Jane Addams, Carr was attempting something very different from the kind of social relations Addams established with the neighborhood. Commenting on the departure of Carr, a member of the West Side Community Committee, who had spent his life in the neighborhood, said the fundamental issue was โ€œwho shall formulate the policies of Hull House? Does Hull House belong to the people it serves, or to the trustees? Shall it be an โ€˜agencyโ€™ superimposed from above; or shall it be an instrument of the people themselves? Only by involving the people significantly in the management of Hull House can it ever become a real part of the attitudes, sentiments and thinking of the people.โ€[143] He continued: โ€œBecause Charlotte Carr was thoroughly familiar with conditions as they are, and was in complete accord with our aspirations for democracy, we consider her resignation an irreparable loss to our community. And we hope that the trustees will reconsider it.โ€[144]

The trustees were not ready to transform the settlement into the kind of community organization envisioned by Carr and elements of the community who were ready to take on a leadership role in the neighborhoodโ€™s future.

During Charlotte Carrโ€™s short tenure as Hull-House director there was a shift toward a more conservative board that interfered in the details of settlement life more and more.[145] Perhaps the changes reflected efforts to address the increasingly difficult task of raising money for the settlement, or from a sense that the board had to assume the responsibility of policy-making now that the director was โ€œhired help.โ€ There were also the new pressures from Chicagoโ€™s Council of Social Agencies and the reality that Hull-House had become less financially independent and even began applying for funds from the Community Fund of Chicago for a small, but sought-after portion of its budget.[146] Bowen, who was the president and treasurer of the Hull House Association, frequently found herself consulting with the Council of Social Agencies of Chicago. The group assessed how social agencies were performing and, while separate from the Community Fund, was influential in whether or not an agency obtained requested funds. These consultations included discussions about whether or not the director at the settlement should be part or full-time, paid or volunteer; on the state of programs and staffing; and on its annual budget. Shortfalls were to be funded, if approved by the Council, by the Community Fund. The budget committee of the Council reviewed whether private fundraising by the trustees was adequate or should be increased.[147] This new world of regulations and boundaries differed vastly from the earlier time when Addams had tried to avoid formalism of any kind and had balked at the insistence by a major donor that the loosely organized association become a not-for-profit entity under state law.[148]

The Community Fund allocations were never so substantial that control by the Hull-House board was ever in jeopardy. But for many years the settlementโ€™s investments and endowments had been โ€œlootedโ€ to pay for operating costs and repairs of the old buildings. This practice worried the business-minded trustees. At the same time, the aging Bowen personally felt the pressures to continue fundraising and probably sought other wealthy folk whom she knew to help shoulder the burden. To facilitate this effort, in January of 1942 the number of trustees was increased to twenty-five.[149] Bowenโ€™s influence in who came on the board was key here. When old-timers died, they had been replaced by other family members or individuals well known to Bowen and those on the board. Charles Hull Ewing โ€œreplacedโ€ his cousin, Helen Culver; Bowen added her daughter Helen Bowen Blair in 1929. That year the by-laws were revised to allow an increase of trustees from seven to nine.[150] This tradition of balancing any โ€œnew bloodโ€ on the board with a safe amount of โ€œold bloodโ€ continued well into the 1960s. The old blood included good old boy investment bankers and businessmen[151] with close social or kinship relations to Bowen and her daughter, and a sprinkling of Hull-House โ€œfamilies.โ€ The latter included individuals whose connections went back to the Jane Addamsโ€™s years, such as Charles P. Schwartz, her attorney, and William F. Deknatel whose father, Frederick, had been at Hull-House in the 1900s. Trustees also included Professor Harrison Dobbs, Dr. Arthur Todd, and Wayne C. McMillenโ€”academics who represented the social policy and social work establishment; and a sprinkling of social feminists like Grace Abbott and Adena Miller Rich who, in the Progressive Era had dominated the leadership ranks of Hull-House as independent-minded residents but, in the New Deal Era, did not appear to hold the balance of power. There were also a number of clubwomen from Chicagoโ€™s North Shore elite communities, but these women were not like the social activists of the womenโ€™s political culture during the Progressive Era. Marshall Field, III, joined the board in 1941. His progressive politics and funding of radical causes, including PM, the innovative Leftist tabloid, distinguished him from the other businessmen on the board. Samuel Levin, who came on the board at the end of 1942โ€”but too late to save Charlotte Carrโ€”was one of the founders of the Amalgamated Clothing Workers Union and, in the 1940s, was head of the Illinois CIO.[152]

In addition, the board of trustees had attempted to limit Carrโ€™s powers to develop programs and define policy. The Hull-House trustees publicly claimed that the reason for Carrโ€™s โ€œresignationโ€ was a conflict over the budget. Carr, they contended, was unwilling to accept the budget cuts the trustees insisted were necessary and she was unwilling to accept any changes in policy or programs.[153] But there was more involved. Bowen and a group of trustees were attempting to rein in Carr and have control over the direction of the settlement. A pro-Carr trustee, Mary Wing, had offered to take care of the budget shortfall and to pay the salary of a fundraiser, as well as to pay a pro-rated amount of the current deficit at any time within the year that the budget was exceeded, if she was given the assurance that Carr would have control of policy and program decisions. After initially accepting Wingโ€™s offer at the board meeting December 1, 1942, the personnel and budget committee, seemingly on its own initiative, sent all the trustees a resolution that accepted Wingโ€™s underwriting offer but also included the condition โ€œthat no changes in personnel or activities involving other or different money expenditures than those provided for in the budget, be made by the Director without the approval of the [board] president or the chairman of the budget and personnel committee being first obtained.โ€ Wing protested this resolution and threatened to rescind her offer and submit her resignation if it was passed. She questioned the power of the personnel and budget committee to submit resolutions counter to the action the board had previously taken and considered the substitute resolution to be a vote of no confidence in Carr. The substitute resolution passed at the next board meeting, December 21, and Wing resigned, precipitating Carrโ€™s resignation.[154] Alex Elson, a lawyer who was a newly elected trustee (and who had attended Hull-House as a youngster and young adult) found Bowenโ€™s board to be โ€œvery controlled.โ€ After his initial term, he was not asked back, but โ€œwas elected again after the Warโ€ when Bowen had retired as president.[155]

Without the influence of the social reform agenda initiated by the womenโ€™s political culture of the Progressive Era to provide a framework, and in the absence of her great mentor Jane Addams, Bowen seemed unable to make the change that others made when they saw the New Deal as the fulfillment of many of the goals of the earlier reform era. These individuals included Hull-House former residents Grace and Edith Abbott, Adena Miller Rich, Dr. Alice Hamilton, and Sophonisba Breckinridge; Frances Perkins, FDRโ€™s Secretary of Labor who had ties to Hull-House and the settlement movement; Helen Hall of New Yorkโ€™s Henry Street Settlement, and Lea Taylor of Chicago Commons.[156] The New Deal revitalization under Charlotte Carr did not launch a second rebirth of the social settlement movement nationwide,[157] nor did it solve the problems that Hull-House faced after World War II. Carr did revamp the settlement at a low moment and renewed its connection to political activism, racial justice, and labor advocacy. After Carr, Hull-House never lost its zeal for making a pluralistic, interracial democracy work, or its advocacy of improving the economic, educational, and cultural conditions of workers and eliminating poverty. Nor were Carrโ€™s efforts to integrate Hull-House and to use the settlement to catalyze a new political power with the neighborhood people, abandoned. These goals were shared by Russell Ballard, who served as Hull-House director from 1943 to 1963, in a time of increased racial tensions in American cities, including Chicago. Then, however, with the demise of the New Deal and the solidification of a Cold War politics, there were fewer avenues to pursue progressive policies of racial liberalism and community redevelopment.

As this chapter has shown, by 1939, concerns about the political activities of Carr were coming from inside the settlement community and were being voiced by Hull-House trustees.[158] Carr clashed with Bowen when she used the reputation of the Hull-House settlement to advance the cause of the Democratic candidate for mayor, Edward J. Kelly.

The trustees were reflecting the growing polarization in politics that the liberal wing of the New Deal provoked from the defenders of capitalism who saw the specter of socialism in every relief or federal program proposed by Franklin Delano Roosevelt. There were more capitalists than either social workers or reformers on the Hull-House board, and, with the beginning of the United States involvement in World War II, there was a rejection of those who offered critiques of the American market system and supported a militant working class. The CIO signaled a form of radical labor organization, the vision of one big union, distinctly activist and embracing of the unskilled as well as the skilled, and black as well as white workers. As an ardent New Dealer and CIO-sympathizer, Carrโ€™s politics took on a distinctly threatening tint to a number of trustees who may have taken their cues from Bowen, president of the board of trustees, who was an ardent supporter of Wendell Willkieโ€™s candidacy for president in 1940.[159] Bowen led the opposition to Carr, arguing privately that the directorโ€™s public support of FDR and other politicians had cost Hull-House the loss of contributions from wealthy donors who no longer were willing to donate to the settlement because of its embrace of the New Deal.[160] Political columnist Sidney J. Harris summed up the dispute: โ€œ[W]hile some board members believed that as a โ€˜hired employeeโ€™ of Hull House, Miss Carr should reduce her political efforts in controversial issues. She, on the other hand, insisted that Hull House must take an active part in political affairs in order to obtain social and economic benefits for the neighborhood.โ€[161]

There were critics who did not understand how the settlementโ€™s avowed claim to be nonsectarian, nonpartisan, and independent jibed with the actions of residents, including those who openly joined sides, advocated candidates, signed petitions and took controversial public stands. โ€œGuilt by associationโ€ began long before the McCarthy Era; it was used against Hull-House and Addams in the 1900s, during the โ€œRed Scareโ€ after World War I, and in the assault against New Deal programs in the 1930s. But in the 1940s and 1950s, the chilling effects of loyalty oaths and Cold War diplomacy after the Atom bomb added a new dimension to the hysteria. Liberals and progressives internalized the fear and went along with the anti-Communism crusade. Charlotte Carrโ€™s involvement with the CIO and the Left-wing elements of the old New Deal coalition that joined the Union for Democratic Action [later Americans for Democratic Action (ADA)] became, by the end of 1942, unacceptable.[162] The Cold War era had not officially begun. The House Un-American Activities Committee never summoned Carr, although the FBI kept a file on her. After leaving Hull-House, she became the assistant to the vice chairman of the War Manpower Commission in 1943 and, one year later, served as New York regional director of the Congress of Industrial Organizations Political Action Committee.[163] Active in welfare, housing, childrenโ€™s and workersโ€™ rights until the end of her life, her belief in a workerโ€™s democracy never wavered.


[1]Carr received $6,000 a year at Hull House. She came to Hull House in 1937 from a $10,000 a year position with the New York City emergency relief bureau. โ€œDeny Miss Carrโ€™s Politics Caused Hull House Rift. Trustees Say Budget Row Led to Resignation.โ€ Chicago Tribune, 4 January 1943, p. 11. Charlotte Carr, director of Hull-House, 1937-1942, graduated from Vassar in 1915 and pursued post-graduate studies in economics for three years at Columbia University. She held important positions with the New York State Charities Aid Association, the New York Charity Organization Society and other welfare groups. For six years she was in charge of personnel work in factories. In the New York State Department of Labor Carr worked with Frances Perkins, later Secretary of Labor under Franklin Delano Roosevelt. She was in charge of research work relating to problems of women and children in industry, also problems arising from the administration and extension of the Workmenโ€™s Compensation Law. Many of the results of surveys made by Carr were incorporated in the legislative programs of Governor Alfred E. Smith of New York, and President Roosevelt when the latter was Governor of New York. The reputation Carr won by her work caused Gifford Pinchot, while Governor of Pennsylvania, to request Perkins to lend Miss Carr to the Pennsylvania State Department of Labor. While she was serving the State of Pennsylvania Carrโ€™s leave was extended several times. She established in the Pennsylvania Labor Department a bureau of women and children similar to the New York bureau, and later became its director. Miss Carr returned to New York City in 1929 to become industrial consultant of the Charity Organization Society, with which she remained until 1930. She also was appointed to the Commission on Unemployment Relief set up by Governor Lehman, with Allen Wardwell as chairman. Mr. Knauth and Mr. Corsi induced Mr. Wardwell to permit Miss Carr to serve as assistant director of the Home Relief Division.โ€ โ€œCorsi Gets Post As Aide To Hodson,โ€ New York Times, 20 July 1935, p. 3.

[2]S. J. Woolf, “Miss Carr Takes a Social Ideal to Hull House,” New York Times Magazine (August 8, 1937): 5.

[3] Trusteesโ€™ Meeting Minutes, January 21, 1938, 4, Folder 5, Hull House Collection, Special Collections & University Archives, University of Illinois at Chicago Library (hereafter, HHC).

[4] Michael Denning, The Cultural Front: The Laboring of American Culture in the Twentieth Century (New York & London: Verso, 1997).

[5] Addams, the daughter of an Illinois State Senator and businessman who died in 1881, inherited a portion of his estate and was able to restore the old Hull homeโ€™s interior and contribute to the settlement budget, albeit with contributions from others, until about 1895. Addams was clearly a privileged woman who did not need to work; she was not, however, rich, as attested to the small amount of property and outright cash she had at the time of her death. See: โ€œ3 Share $11,933 Divided In Will of Jane Addams.โ€ Chicago Tribune, 26 October 1937, p. 20.

[6] The one exception to this is the relationship she had with Helen Culver; the incorporation of Hull-House in 1895 was a condition imposed by Culver before she would make a permanent relationship with Addams who, from 1889, had leased the house and had negotiated for each new lot for the expansion of the complex. Allen B. Pond to Helen Culver, April 18, 1906. JAMC Reel 4-1331. See also: Jane Addams Memorial Collection correspondence, 1889, reel 2. Letters to landlord Helen Culver from Jane Addams in March 1890. Through the early years Addams struggles to get Culver to donate rent and eventually more buildings, finally convincing her after several years to offer some of the lots on the block for sale. See especially letter from Jane Addams to โ€œDearestโ€ (Mary Rozet Smith) March 23, 1898, JAMC reel 2.

[7] John F. Lyons, โ€œAdena Miller Rich,โ€ Women Building Chicago, 743.  Residents Eileen Duggan, Clara Stahl, and Esther Kokn, who was chair of the residents, asked for a joint meeting with the Hull-House board of trustees to defer action on Richโ€™s resignation that had been submitted March 19, 1937. Duggan, Stahl & Kohn to Louise Bowen, March 29, 1937.

[8] โ€œPeople Live at Hull-House, Part 2: Paint It White,โ€ 2.

[9] John F. Lyons, โ€œAdena Miller Rich,โ€ Women Building Chicago, 743.

[10] Elisabeth Lasch-Quinn, Black Neighbors: Race and the Limits of Reform in the American Settlement House Movement, 1890-1945 (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1993); Judith Trolander, Professionalism and Social Change: From the Settlement House Movement to Neighborhood Centers 1886 to the Present(New York: Columbia University Press, 1987).

[11] Lasch-Quinn, Trolander, and Bryan and Davis treat this period but have an incomplete understanding of the 1930s and 1940s at Hull-House.

[12] Arnold R. Hirsch, Making the Second Ghetto: Race and Housing in Chicago 1940-1960 (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1983).

[13] There is no biography of Carr and she left no personal papers. See: (โ€œCharlotte Carr, Relief Aide, Dies,โ€ New York Times, 13 July 1956, p. 19; โ€œHits Fear Motive In Training Young,โ€ New York Times, 13 June 1930; Commonwealth of Pennsylvania, Department of Labor and Industry, Charlotte E. Carr, secretary, Report to Governor Gifford Pinchot by the Commission on Special Policing in Industry. Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, 1934, in Folder 543, Hull House Collection, Spec. Coll., Daley Library, UIC.

[14] Dorothy Height, Open Wide The Freedom Gates (New York: Public Affairs Books, 2003) 54.

[15] โ€œFriends Give Farewell Fete for New Hull House Head,โ€ Chicago Defender, 2 October 1937, p. 7. The invited guests included Robert Elzy, founder of the Urban League in Brooklyn, New York; Dr. Channing Tobias, an executive with the YMCA, Bessye Beardon, Harlem civic leader and mother of the artist Romare Beardon; James B. Hubert of the New York Urban League, A. Philip Randolph, and T. Arnold Hill.

[16] Articles in the Chicago Defender about the club never identify its being all black as a problem and there were also reports that when national associations of African American women held their meetings in Chicago, the Hull-House settlement was a sought-after venue for part or all of the programs. This brings up the whole question of how in a segregated society a White institution like Hull-House could promote respect and acceptance of a black-only group; in this case anti-discrimination meant being willing to let African American community groups share space with Whites.

[17] Hull-House Year Book Forty-Second Year, 1931-32, 43; โ€œOne afternoon a month all of the women who have afternoon classes at the House and in periods of unemployment the men as well, have an afternoon social at which refreshments are served and a special program is carried out. The last celebration of Washingtonโ€™s Birthday was especially successful both for its historical presentation and its air of jollity. The group of women represented Mexicans, Italians, Greeks, Bohemians, Germans and Lithuanians.โ€ (Hull-House Year Book, Fortieth Year, 1930, 27;Hull-House Year Book, Forty-Fifth year, 44, 35; Donna Hodgman, โ€œWide Interest Shown In Revival of Greek Club,โ€ Hull-House Block News, Jan. 27, 1939, Vol. II, no. 7, 2; HHA Records, Scrapbooks-Press Clippings, Folder 523, West Side Times, 9-13-51; โ€œNext Fifty Years at Hull House Are Mapped by Charlotte Carr,โ€ New York Herald Tribune, 18 March 1940.

[18] Nesta Smith, who taught string instruments at Hull-House let slip that โ€œthese new groups [Mexicans, blacks] that came in were culturally of a much lower level to work with. You see, they didnโ€™t come with the kind of culture back of them that the Italians and the Jewish people and the Greeks did. Besides the blacks that we got mostly were the southern blacks that migrated . . . and, morally and culturally and everything, they didnโ€™t have back of them what these other groups did. So it was quite a turn over . [when] . . . most of our old reliable European families were moving out.โ€ Nesta Smith,, OH-019, p. 10, [interviewed by Babette E. Munson], January 19, 1982] Box 5, Folder 76, Special Collections & University Archives, University of Illinois at Chicago Library.

[19] Jessie Lloyd O’Connor, โ€œOutlaw Restrictive Covenants.โ€ Hull-House Block News, 2, no. 22 (May 12, 1939): 4-5.

[20] In searching the records to verify whether or not Dewey E. Jones and his family were truly the first African Americans in residence at Hull-House, I want to mention two findings: the first is the โ€œinformalโ€ residence of Harriet Rice in the 1890s and 1900s. Rice, an African American physician, is never formally listed as a resident, yet there is considerable correspondence that indicates she participated in the settlement, was a physician in the clinic, worked in the branch library and the coffee-house, briefly, and presented a worrisome problem for Addams and her intimate friend, Mary Rozet Smith. See: Louise Knight, โ€œRice, Harriet Alleyne,โ€ in Women Building Chicago 1790-1990: A Biographical Dictionary, edited by Rima Lunin Schultz and Adele Hast (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2001), 741. The artist Lawrence Arthur Jones, when he was attending the School of the Art Institute of Chicago (SAIC), lived at Hull-House and taught art classes, probably in one of the WPA programs. This was probably for no more than a year or two. Records of residents are so incomplete that it is not that surprising to not find him listed. No one at Hull-House contradicted Carr when she claimed that Dewey E. Jones was the first resident who was African American, even though there were residents around who must have known that Lawrence Jones lived at Hull-House. My guess is that he really did not engage fully, for whatever reasons, in the residential community, but lived at the settlement, taught some classes, and was a student at SAIC. February 26, 1937 report, pp. 1-2, Adena Miller Rich Papers, Folder 13, Special Collections, UIC; Cheryl R. Ganz, โ€œShaping Clay, Shaping Lives: The Hull-House Kilnsโ€ in Pots of Promise 75. On the other hand, Lawrence Jones is credited with designing the logo for the new Hull-House newspaper, Octagon, launched during the head residency of Adena Miller Rich.

[21] โ€œDewey Jones to Join Hull House Staff.โ€ Chicago Defender, March 19, 1938, pg. 2.

[22] Harold Ickes, a Chicagoan with close ties to Hull-House and Jane Addams, had served as president of the local chapter of the NAACP. The Left-leaning New Deal networks had begun to include the black bourgeoisie; Hull-House was one of the connecting links in this new infrastructure, bringing blacks and whites together. Later on Robert E. Weaver, who also worked with Ickes, would live at Hull-House while he served as director of Community Services of the American Council on Race Relations in Chicago. Russell W. Ballard to the Board of Trustees, HHA, January 27, 1947, Welfare Council Papers Box 330, Folder 2, Chicago History Museum.

[23] Beth Tompkins Bates, Pullman Porters and the Rise of Protest Politics in Black America 1925-1945. Chapel Hill: The University of North Carolina Press, 2001, 126-142.

[24] Chicago Defender, Feb. 24, 1940, 15; Mrs. Lillian Summers became a HH resident in July 1939. She was the district superintendent of the Family Service Bureau, United Charities, at the South Central District office. She was very well known in civic and social work circles in Chicago and actively participated in a number of community organizations. She was the president of the Chicago Council of the National Negro Congress; the Negro Peopleโ€™s Theatre; she was part of the Public Relations Committee of the American Association of Social Workers; she participated in the National Youth Congress, Chicago Urban League, Chicago Civil Liberties Committee, the Citizens School Committee and was on the board of directors of the Good Shepherd Community Center. She lived in the womenโ€™s quarters at Hull-House. Hull-House Block News, vol. III, no. 4, June 23, 1939, 5.

[25] โ€œSocial Worker Succeeds Late Dewey Jones.โ€ Chicago Defender, May 27, 1939, 19.

[26]

[27] Arnold R. Hirsch, Making the Second Ghetto: Race and Housing in Chicago, 1940-1960. Chicago & London: The University of Chicago Press, 1998, 14.

[28] Hirsch, Making the Second Ghetto, 14.

[29] โ€œThe Chicago Urban League Holds Annual Conference.โ€ Chicago Defender, Sept. 25,  1937, 19.

[30]  Other leaders involved in the Bowen Country Club conference included Lillian Summers, Robert R. Taylor, Saul D. Alinsky, Horace Cayton, Dr. Curtis Reese, Jessie Binford, Faith Jones, Dr. Rachel Yarros, Ferd Krammer, Wilfred Reynolds, and Mary Herrick. โ€œThe Chicago Urban League Holds Annual Conference.โ€ Chicago Defender,   Sept. 25,  1937, 19.

[31] โ€œDewey E. Jones Report, Minutes, March 15, 1939, Executive Committee, Division on Education and Recreation, TMs, 7-9, Welfare Council of Metropolitan Chicago Papers. Box 145, Folder 1: Minorities. Chicago History Museum, quoted in Bryan and Davis, 100 Years At Hull-House, 230-231.

[32] Dewey E. Jones Report, quoted in Bryan and Davis, 232.

[33] See Hull-House Collection, Series X. Publications, Folders 434-442, Spec. Coll. & UA, ULUIC.

[34] Jonesโ€™s editorship of the Hull-House Yearbook was noted by the Black press: โ€œThen there is the first [sic] annual Year Bookof Hull House, in the preface of which Miss Charlotte Carr, headworker, gives complete credit to Dewey Roscoe Jones, former managing editor of the Chicago Defender, for editing the book. It is a masterpiece of production and informationโ€”and laurels to Miss Carr for knowing her staff talent, using it, and giving credit where credit is due. I know some establishments that would not have given the opportunity; and others, if the opportunity had been given would have hidden the facts. America needs more Charlotte Carrs . . . . โ€œ (Nahum Daniel Brascher,โ€ A Little Light Along the Way. Random Thoughts.โ€ Chicago Defender, April 8, 1939, pg. 15.)

[35] Jones received his A.B. degree in journalism from the University of Michigan; in 1923 he became a reporter for the Chicago Defender, then city editor, and later managing editor of that paper. He had a column, โ€œLights and Shadowsโ€ for many years. With A Rosenwald Fellowship, Jones studied journalism at Columbia University, and obtained a M.S. degree. While in NYC he wrote for the Amsterdam News. Frank L. Hayes, โ€œDewey R. Jones Dies; Assistant at Hull House,โ€ Chicago Daily News, April 11, 1939, 6; David W. Kellum, โ€œDeath Claims Dewey R. Jones; Journalist is Buried After Simple Rites; Loses Fight With Death After Illness of Nine Days,โ€ Chicago Defender, April 15, 1939, 1.

[36] Dewey E. Jones Report, Minutes, March 15, 1939, Executive Committee, Division on Education and Recreation, TMs, 7-9, Welfare Council of Metropolitan Chicago Papers. Box 145, Folder 1: Minorities. Chicago History Museum, quoted in Bryan and Davis, 232.

[37] Dewey E. Jones Report, quoted in Bryan and Davis, 232.

[38] โ€œSpring Festival at Hull House To Open May 16,โ€ Chicago Tribune, May 4, 1941, pg. W5.

[39] D. Hodgman, โ€œPart 4: The People,โ€ 23. Liquor was not served at Hull-House before the Carr administration.  Addams and Bowen remained unchanging in their support of prohibition. Carr, on the other hand, enjoyed her martinis and smoked cigarettes in the residentsโ€™ dining room and her private quarters.

[40] D. Hodgman, โ€œPart 4. The People,โ€ 23.

[41] D. Hodgman, โ€œPart 4. The People,โ€ 23-24.

[42] D. Hodgman, โ€œPart 4. The People,โ€ 25.

[43] D. Hodgman, โ€œPart 4. The People,โ€ 25.

[44] D. Hodgman, โ€œPart 4. The People,โ€ 26.

[45] โ€œNo Color Line Here,โ€ Chicago Defender, 7 June 1941, p. 11; coverage of the same event in the Chicago Tribune did not mention the interracial nature of the event. โ€œSpring Fete, Tribute to Jane Addams, to Be Opened Today,โ€ Chicago Tribune, 16 May 1941, p. 23.

[46]Gaines transcript

[47] Hull-House At the Fiftieth Year, May 1940.

[48] โ€œMiss Carr Meets With Representative Leaders,โ€ Hull-House Block News, 2, no. 22 (May 12, 1939): 3-4.

[49] Those present were Carr; Earl Dickerson, Alderman of the Second Ward and chairman of the Board of Directors of the Chicago Urban League; S.B. Danley, District Manager of the Illinois State Employment Service; Dean Smith, director of the Chicago Baptist Institute; Ishmael Floury, secretary-treasurer of the Joint Council of the Dining Car Employees; George McCray, Executive Secretary of the National Negro Congress, Chicago Council, and Rosenwald Fellow; St. Clair Drake, Research Assistant on the Study of the Chicago Negro Community, directed by Horace C. Cayton and W. Lloyd Warner; Miss Pauline Redmond, director of Youth Work for the Chicago Urban League; Mrs. Faith Jones, of the Chicago Relief Administration; Horace R. Cayton, Co-director of the Study of the Chicago Negro Community; Dr. Walter Adams, psychiatrist at Provident Hospital; Miss Mary Wing, research secretary at Hull-House; A.L. Foster, executive secretary of the Chicago Urban League; Mrs. Helen Howard, Industrial Secretary of the South Parkway Branch of the YWCA; John A. Sengstacke, manager, the Chicago Defender; Mrs. Irene McCoy Gaines, president, Northern District Association of Colored Women; Sydney Jones, chair of the South Side Forum; the Reverend Harold M. Kingsley, pastor of Good Shepherd Congregational Church; Joy Schultz, research assistant on the Study of the Chicago Negro Community.

[50] Cayton is an important figure. An African American who had one foot in academe and the other in social activism as the director of the South Parkway Branch of the YMCA, he links the emerging social work community, the settlement houses, and the City of Chicagoโ€™s race relations commissions & committees. See: Jeffrey Helgeson, โ€œStriving in Black Chicago: Migration, Work, and the Politics of Neighborhood Change 1935-1965,โ€ Ph.D. dissertation, University of Illinois at Chicago, 2008, 130-191. Cayton, with St. Clair Drake, authored Black Metropolis (1945), the now-classic account of the black community in Chicago.

[51] Beth Tompkins Bates, Pullman Porters and the Rise of Protest Politics in Black America 1925-1945 (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2001), 140-41;138-42.

[52] โ€œHearings on Raceโ€™s Status Set Jan. 3, 4,โ€ Chicago Defender, 28 December 1940, p. 15.

[53] With the death of childrenโ€™s drama director Edith de Nancrede in 1936, the retirement of Enella Benedict in 1937, who had directed the art school from its beginnings in the 1890s, and the closing of the Hull-House Kilns that same year (a project directed by Myrtle Merritt French from 1927 to 1937), the stage was set for significant changes.[53] See biographies of Enella Benedict and Edith de Nancrede in Women Building Chicago 1790-1990: A Biographical Dictionary edited by Rima Lunin Schultz and Adele Hast.(Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2001), and Ganz and Strobel, Pots of Promise, 55-86, for a discussion of Myrtle Merritt French. For an assessment of Nancredeโ€™s significance as well as the affection her students felt for her see: Nicolette Malone Oral Interview transcript, OH-076, [interviewed by Stuart J. Hecht, March 10, 1980, Part I,11.

[54] Amalie Hannig, โ€œChristmas at Hull-House,โ€ The Ladies Home Journal 28, no. 17 (December 1911): 31.

[55] Hilda Satt Polacheck, I Came a Stranger: The Story of a Hull-House Girl (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1989),103.

[56] Donna Hodgman, โ€œWide Interest Shown in Revival of Greek Club,โ€ Hull-House Block News, Jan. 27, 1939, vol. II, no. 7, 2. Chicago Commons continued to present Dickensโ€™ โ€œA Christmas Carol,โ€ but began to plan a โ€œnationalityโ€ Christmas custom program in addition that would portray Italian, Polish, Mexican and Greek Christmases. โ€œMinutes,โ€ January 14, 1939, Folder 235, Graham Taylor Papers, Newberry Library.

[57] Madge C. Jenison, โ€œA Hull House Play,โ€ The Atlantic Monthly 98 (July 1906): 83-92; Edith de Nancrede. โ€œDramatic Work at Hull-House,โ€ Neighborhood 1, no. 1 (January 1928): 23-28.

[58] Shannon Jackson, โ€œCivic Play-Housekeeping: Gender, Theatre, and American Reform,โ€ Theatre Journal, Vol. 48, No. 3, Enacting America(n)s (Oct. 1996), 353. This article reflects on the socialization and reform aspects of the drama/social clubs at Hull-House.

[59] We are fortunate to have oral interviews from several individuals who spent many years actively engaged in the social clubs/drama productions at Hull-House. Their comments reveal the degree of socialization and preparation for achievement and assimilation in American society provided by the Hull-House program in theater. Ida Werner Oral Interview transcript, OH-012 [Interviewed by Evelyn Crawford Smith] April 23, 1982, 15; Eleanor Carroll Farwell Oral History transcript, OH-052 [Interviewed by Mary Ann Johnson] July 14, 1981, 51; Dorothy Sigel Oral Interview transcript, OH-071 [interviewed by Stuart J. Hecht] July 12, 1981, 6.

[60] George J. Mavigliano and Richard A. Lawson, The Federal Art Project in Illinois 1935-1943 (Carbondale and Edwardsville: Southern Illinois University Press, 1990), 22.

[61] Commemorative booklet, Eleanor Roosevelt dedication of the South Side Community Art Center, May 7, 1941, William McBride Papers, Box 3, Chicago Public Library.

[62] William F. Deknatel is a central figure in the post-1935 history of Hull-House. He was the son of Frederick H. Deknatel, a prosperous hardware manufacturer, who had come to the settlement around 1900 after the death of his first wife. Devoting himself to the community, he met Wilfreda Brockway, who was teaching in the kindergarten. They married and lived together at the settlement. William was their son. As a young man William was one of Frank Lloyd Wrightโ€™s students. Later on he taught design in the Hull-House Art School, and, during the Carr years served as a trustee and close advisor, a position he continued when Russell Ballard became director. In the crucial years from 1947 to 1963 he was the most influential trustee serving as chairman of the Near West Side Planning Board, as president of the Hull-House board of trustees. โ€œWilliam F. Deknatel,โ€ Chicago Tribune, 18 February 1973, p. B18.) HHA Records 9 November 1909; Minutes, April 29, 1949, Folder 13, Series 1 Hull-House Collection.

[63] See. Mavigliano and Lawson, The Federal Art Project in Illinois.

[64] William F. Deknatel to Charlotte Carr, July 7, 1939, Folder 37, Hull House Collection.

[65] Emily Edwards to Miss Norma K. Stahle, General Secretary, Association of Arts & Industries, January 23, 1940, Folder 37, Hull House Collection.

[66] Edwards, Deknatelโ€™s cousin, had studied under Enella Benedict at SAIC and at that time (1906) taught art classes at Hull-House; in the 1920s she studied with Diego Rivera, became expert in the Mexican mural tradition, writing on the subject, but returned to Chicago in the late 1930s, joined the HH art school staff in 1937, and resided in the settlement. Hull House Octagon, 2, no. 1 (December 20, 1936),2.

[67] Charlotte Carr to William Deknatel, Baymeath, Bar Harbor, Maine, July 10, 1939, Folder 37, Hull House Collection; Melting Pot, April 1941, vol. 1, No. 2, pg. 2, Folder 471, Hull House Collection.

[68] Minutes of Hull-House Art Center Staff Meeting, Friday October 3, 1941, Hoeckner in attendance and listed as the Chairman of the Committee on Teaching Personnel; William Deknatel, untitled typed manuscript, n.d., pg.1. Hull House Collection, Folder 386; Correspondence from February 1940 that lists Edward Millman as Senior Staff at Hull-House Center and Design Workshops; Bernece Berkman is listed under attendance for a meeting at the Hull-House Art Center Staff Meeting, Friday, October 3, 1940.

[69] โ€œOutdoor Lights Help Programs at Hull-House.โ€ Chicago Tribune, June 19, 1938, pg. W2.

[70] In an article describing a Negro Art Exhibit at Howard University, Washington, D.C., there is mention in the description of artist Eldzier Cortor that he had exhibited his work at the Hull-House gallery, as well as other places. โ€œHoward Art Gallery Exhibits Works of Nationally Known Young Artists,โ€ Chicago Defender, April 29, 1939, 5. This may be referring to the Benedict Gallery exhibit of July 1938.

[71] Eleanor Jewett, โ€œReview Books; art critic reads about herself.โ€ Chicago Tribune, Oct. 29, 1939, pg. F4; C. J. Bulliet, โ€œAround the Galleries.โ€ Chicago Daily News, Nov. 4, 1939, n.p.

[72] Bulliet, โ€œAround the Galleries.โ€

[73] Willard F. Motley, โ€œNegro Art in Chicago.โ€ Opportunity: Journal of Negro Life, January, 1940, Vol. XVIII, No. 1, 19;  Motley had moved into the Near West Side neighborhood in 1938 and was one of three aspiring writers who launched the Hull-House Magazine in November 1939.

[74]  Motley, โ€œNegro Art In Chicago.โ€ Opportunity: Journal of Negro Life, January, 1940, Vol. XVIII, No. 1, 19.

[75]  Motley, โ€œNegro Art In Chicago,โ€ 19.

[76] Bill V. Mullen, Popular Fronts: Chicago and African-American Cultural Politics, 1935-46 (Urbana & Chicago: University of Illinois Press,1999),75.

 [77] Mullen, Popular Fronts, 80.

[78] See Hull-House Collection, Series X. Publications, Folders 434-442, Spec. Coll. & UA, ULUIC.

[79] It is intriguing to note that between 1933 and 1939, no bulletins or yearbooks are published; the Octagon has a short lifeโ€”only a few issues exist. .

[80] Hull-House Magazine, vol. 1, nos. 1-3, 1939-1940, Hull House Collection, Series X, Folder 469, Spec. Coll. & UA, ULUIC.

[81] Alexander Saxton, OH-095, 4.

[82] Willard Motleyโ€™s biographer Robert Fleming writes that Archibald Motley, Jr., was Willardโ€™s brother; Amy M. Mooney more recently claims that Willard and Archibald Motley, Jr., were cousins. In the forward to Mooneyโ€™s book, Art historian David C. Driskell refers to Willard Motley as Archibald Motley, Jr.โ€™s nephew. Robert E. Fleming, Willard Motley (Boston: Twayne Publishers, 1978), 15; Amy M. Mooney, Archibald J. Motley Jr (San Francisco: Pomegrante,2004), 83; vi.

[83]  See the discussion of the young Willard Motleyโ€™s career in Bill V. Mullen, Popular Fronts: Chicago and African-American Cultural Politics, 1935-46 (Urbana & Chicago: University of Illinois Press,1999), 137. 

[84] Motley (1909-1965) published his first short story, โ€œSister and Brother,โ€ in the Chicago Defender in 1922 when he was thirteen. He wrote short articles for the Childrenโ€™s Page of the Chicago Evening Post, in 1923, and from 1922 he edited Bud Billiken columns for the Chicago Defender. (Bud Billiken was the young Willard Motleyโ€™s pen name and developed into a public persona Motley graduated from Englewood High School, Chicago, in 1929; he rode to New York City on a bicycle that year. Attempting to launch his career as a writer, for the next five years he submitted short stories to Colliers, Liberty, Chicago Times, New York Daily News, but none were accepted for publication. Between 1936 and 1938 he made two trips West by automobile, spending a month in jail in Cheyenne, Wyoming. These adventures were the grist for travel articles which he published between 1938 and 1940. In 1939, Motley moved to an apartment at Fourteenth and Union streets, Chicago, the old Maxwell Street neighborhood that was located south and east of the Hull-House settlement. That year he began his association with a group of residents at the settlement. Motley, Alexander Saxton, and William Schenk edited three issues of the Hull-House Magazine. In 1940 Motley began working on the novel, โ€œLeave Without Illusionsโ€ which was published in 1947 as Knock on Any Door. In 1940 Motley began to write for the Federal Writersโ€™ Project. Motley published three more books: We Fished All Night (1951) and Let No Man Write My Epitaph (1958) and Let Noon Be Fair, published posthumously in 1966. Motley had moved to Mexico in 1951 and died there in 1965.  Robert E. Fleming, Willard Motley (Boston: Twayne Publishers, 1978), 13-14.

[85] Mullen, Popular Fronts, 136.

[86] Bill V. Mullen, Popular Fronts: Chicago and African-American Cultural Politics, 1935-46 (Urbana and Chicago: University of Illinois Press, 1999), 136. Mullen writes: โ€œEager to document the conditions of the Depression poor, Motley merged his fledgling short story techniques with reportageโ€ and he published โ€œIn All the World, No Trip Like This!, his experience in a Laramie, Wyoming county jail after stealing gas for his car; and โ€œReligion and the Handoutโ€ in Commonweal, about experiences in a soup kitchen; in 1938 & 1939 he published โ€œThe Boyโ€ and โ€œThe Boy Grows Up,โ€ in The Ohio Motorist. These were โ€œnonfiction accounts of his encounters with Joe, a young Mexican American who was the inspiration for Nick Romano, Italian-American protagonist of Knock on any Door,โ€ his first novel.

[87] Hull-House Magazine, November 1939, Vol. 1, No. 1, 6.

[88] Hull-House Magazine, November 1939, Vol. 1, No. 1, 7.

[89] Hull-House Magazine, November 1939, Vol. 1, No. 1, 7.

[90] Hull-House Magazine, December 1939, Vol. I, No. II, 1.

[91] Hull-House Magazine, December 1939, Vol. I, No. II, 6.

[92] Hull-House Magazine, January 1940, Vol. I, No. III,9; 11.

[93] Hull-House Magazine, December 1939, Vol. I, No. II, 11.

[94] Hull-House Magazine, November 1939, Vol. 1, No. 1, 5.

[95] Hull-House Magazine, November 1939, Vol. 1, No. 1, 5.

[96] Jean Carter and Jess Ogden, Everyman’s Drama: A Study of the Noncommerical Theatre in the United States (New York: American Association for Adult Education, 1938), 66-67.

[97] D. Hodgman, “Paint It White,” 15.

[98] D. Hodgman, “Paint It White,” 15.

[99] D. Hodgman, “Paint It White,” 15.

[100] D. Hodgman, “Paint It White,” 15.

[101] D. Hodgman, “Paint It White,” 17.

[102] Halsted Streettypescript, 7.

[103] Halsted Streettypescript, 7.

[104] Minutes, April 19, 1939, Board of Trustees, HHA Records,

[105] D. Hodgman, “Paint It White, 17.

[106] D. Hodgman, “Paint It White, 18.

[107] D. Hodgman, “Paint It White, 19.

[108] Christopher Hodgman, M.D., “At Hull-House As A Boy, 1936-1942,” unpublished memoir, 2003.

[109] D. Hodgman, “The People,” 18.

[110] Ibid., p. 19. Ogden joined the Extension Program of the University of Virginia and worked in the field of Adult Education. He was also active in the community theatre movement.

[111] โ€œDeny Miss Carrโ€™s Politics Caused Hull House Rift. Trustees Say Budget Row Led to Resignation,โ€ Chicago Tribune, 4 Jan. 1943, p. 11; โ€œCharlotte Carr Will Head Hull House On Oct. 1,โ€ Chicago Tribune, 16 July 1937, p. 20.

[112] Lea Taylor to Miss Helen Hall, Henry Street, April 14, 1939, Folder 2335, Graham Taylor Papers, The Newberry Library. See Michael Reisich and Janice Andrews, The Road Not Taken: A History of Radical Social Work in the United States (New York & London: Routledge, 2001), 39-60.

[113] Bowen to Reynolds, August 11, 1937, Welfare Council Papers Box 330, Folder 2, Chicago History Museum.

[114] Trusteesโ€™ Minutes January 21, 1938, HHC.

[115] Gutknect was known for his pro-labor attitude. Robert Morss Lovett, All Our Years. New York: The Viking Press, 1948, 234.

[116] Campaign Brochure: Vote for Gutknecht, Democratic Candidate for Stateโ€™s Attorney, Primary, April 9, n.d, Folder 543, HHC.

[117] โ€œIckes Is Pressed To Run.โ€ New York Times, 3 December 1938, p. 2. Among the score of signers were Professor Paul Douglas of the University of Chicago; G. L. Quilici, president of the Chicago Lawyers Guild; Lillian Herstein of the Chicago Teachers Union; W. E. Rodriquez and Henry Dwyer of the City Manager Committee; Abraham Plotkin of the International Ladies Garment Workers union; and Dr. Erich von Schroetter of the German-American League for Culture.

[118] โ€œLa Guardia Finds Chicago โ€˜New Deal,โ€™โ€ New York Times, 12 March 1939, p. 20.

[119] Bowen, as a member of an independent nonpartisan committee, did endorse Democrat Anton Cermak as the Chicago mayoral candidate in 1931. Years later, as an independent thinking Republican, Bowen supported Illinois Governor Adlai Stevenson, the newly nominated Democratic presidential candidate. Alter, โ€œLouise deKoven Bowen,โ€ In Women Building Chicago, 105.

[120]  Quoted in Sharon Alter, โ€œLouise deKoven Bowen,โ€ Women Building Chicago, 105.

[121] Residency was a major function of the settlement house movement. It was a program that socialized hundreds of women and men from privileged and educated backgrounds and promoted ideas that we now associate with the liberal welfare state. Hull-house records on residency are incomplete, but minimally, there were 350 residents by 1930. My own research of residency at Hull-House from 1889 to 1963 lists more than 750 names, with varying amounts of biographical information. In 1935 there were 65 residents, of whom 45 were women and 20 were men, two were children; thirteen had arrived that fall; in 1939 there were over 100 residents; in 1943 there were 86 adults and 7 children; in 1946 there were 102 adults and 8 children. Hull-House Residents 1889-1929, Hull-House Collection, folder 294, Special Collections, Daley Library, UIC; Hull-House Year Book Forty-Fifth Year, 1934; “Report to Hull-House Trustees,” November 27, 1935, Adena Miller Rich Papers, Folder 17, Special Collections, Daley Library, UIC; Russell W. Ballard to the Board of Trustees, HHA, January 27, 1947, Welfare Council Papers Box 330, Folder 2, Chicago History Museum.

[122] See the following works to get an idea of settlement life: Francis Hackett, “Hull-Houseโ€”A Souvenir,”Survey (June 1, 1925): 275-79; Alice Hamilton, Exploring the Dangerous Trades: The Autobiography of Alice Hamilton (1943; reprint, with introduction by Jean Spencer Felton. OEM Press, 1995); Mary Lynn McCree Bryan and Allen F. Davis, eds., One Hundred Years at Hull-House [Revised, expanded edition of Eighty Years at Hull-House, 1969], Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1990); Helen L. Horowitz, โ€œHull House as Womenโ€™s Space,โ€ Chicago History, 12 (1983): 40-55; Shannon Jackson, Lines of Activity: Performance, Historiography, Hull-House Domesticity (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 2000); Kathryn Kish Sklar, โ€œHull House in the 1890s: A Community of Women Reformers,โ€ Signs: Journal of Women in Culture and Society 10 (Summer): 658-77; Eleanor J. Stebner, The Women of Hull House: A Study of Spirituality, Vocation, and Friendship (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1997).

[123] In 1923 she became assistant director of the State Labor Departmentโ€™s bureau of women and industry (New York State); in 1925 she started a similar bureau for Pennsylvania. Dropped in 1929 for refusing to pay political assessments, she returned under Gov. Gifford Pinchot in 1931 as Deputy Secretary of Labor and Industry of Pennsylvania. In July 1933 she became Secretary, and served until the end of 1934. โ€œCharlotte Carr, Relief Aide, Dies,โ€ New York Times, 13 July 1956, p. 19.

[124] Trolander writes that at Hull-House after Jane Addams’s death, the settlement capitalized on its prestige by turning residence into a money-making program. Hull-House had an unusually large physical plant (it covered two city blocks), which included twenty-six apartments and at least twenty-seven rooms for residents. Rents ranged from $40 to $65 for apartments and $15 for rooms. These rentals supplied Hull-House with one-third of its income. Without Jane Addams to raise money, it became imperative to have as many people as possible living at the settlement. Hull-House began to solicit residents more openly and dropped the six-month probationary period. These efforts were successful; residence at Hull-House increased from around sixty-five in 1935, the year of Miss Addams’s death, to more than 100 in 1939. This businesslike approach attracted a more passive type of resident compared to those who initiated innovative programs in earlier years.” (Trolander, Settlement Houses, 45-46.)

[125] Trusteesโ€™ Meeting Minutes, February 24, 1938, Folder 5, Hull House Collection; Trusteesโ€™ Minutes, October 27, 1938. See also: Donna Hodgman, “People Live At Hull-House,” 1943, typescript, Jane Addams Memorial Collection (JAMC), Special Collections, Daley Library, UIC, to get a sense of the changing of the guard.

[126] Charlotte E. Carr, โ€œProblem Communities.โ€ Child Welfare Pamphlets, No. 74 (Iowa City: University of Iowa, February 24, 1940), 7-8, Folder 543, Hull House Collection.

[127] Linda Gordon, Pitied but Not Entitled: Single Mothers and the History of Welfare 1890-1935(Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1994), 218-19.

[128] Trusteesโ€™ Minutes October 27, 1938.

[129] Trusteesโ€™ Minutes October 27, 1938.

[130] Donna Hodgman, “People Live at Hull-House: Paint It White,” (1943 typescript), 6. 13. Hull House Collection, Series VIII, Box 1, Folder557, Spec. Coll. & UA, ULUIC.

[131] Donna Hodgman, “People Live at Hull-House: The People,” 7-8.

[132] D. Hodgman, โ€œThe People,โ€ 7-8.

[133] Trusteesโ€™ Minutes, January 21, 1938,

[134] HHA Trusteesโ€™ Meeting Minutes, December 10, 1937, Hull House Collection, Folder 5, Spec. Coll. Daley Library, UIC.

[135] D. Hodgman, “Paint it White,” p. 4.

[136] D. Hodgman, “Paint it White,” 4.

[137] http://tigger.uic.edu/htbin/cgiwrap/bin/urbanexp/main.cgi?file=new/subsub_index.ptt&chap=130. Accessed 2 July 2009. This is an article written by Alexander Gourse for Urban Experience: Hull-House and Its Neighborhoods 1889-1963, an educational and research website edited by Rima Lunin Schultz for the Jane Addams Hull-House Museum and the University of Illinois at Chicago.

[138] โ€œJane Addams Spirit in Carr Background,โ€ American, 26 December 1942, Folder 543, HHC.

[139] Sydney J. Harris, โ€œCharlotte Carr Resigning From Hull House Job,โ€ Chicago Daily News, 23 December 1942, p. 1; 4, Folder 543, HHC.

[140] Actually had a surplus, but still were faced with essential repairs; endowment was somewhat over $500,000; during 1943 they did not liquidate any endowment securities for current expenses. The increase in the value of the endowment fund came from higher market quotations for their railroad bonds and common stocks not because there were additions to the endowment in 1943. โ€œFinancial Statement Year Ended December 31, 1943,โ€HHA Trusteesโ€™ Annual Meeting, January 28, 1944, HHC.

[141] Hazel MacDonald, โ€œResidents Ask for a Voice in Hull House,โ€ Chicago Times, n.d., Near West Side Community Committee Records, Box 30, Folder 410, Spec. Coll. Daley Library, UIC.

[142] Sydney J. Harris, โ€œCharlotte Carr Resigning From Hull House Job,โ€ Chicago Daily News, 23 December 1942, p. 1; 4, Folder 543, HHC.

[143] Harris, โ€œCharlotte Carr Resigning.โ€

[144] Howard Vincent Oโ€™Brien, โ€œAll Things Considered,โ€ Chicago Daily News, n.d., but copyright at bottom of article says 1943, Folder 543, HHC.

[145] Trolander contends that the settlement houses in Chicago and New York were able to retain their political independence from the pressures of conservative boards for a longer time than other cities: “The important difference is that both New York and Chicago settlements housed leaders with radical political philosophies. In addition there was no Chest or welfare federation to regulate the activities of these settlements, thus radicals were free to organize. As a rule, the boards of the major settlements in these two cities did not interfere with settlement activities.” Trolander, Settlement Houses, 106.

[146] Trusteesโ€™ Minutes, Jan 8, 1937, Box 1, Folder 5, HHC.

[147] Bowen to Elizabeth H. Webster, May 3, 1937, Welfare Council Papers Box 330, Folder 2, Chicago History Museum; Webster to Bowen, May 4, 1937, Welfare Council Papers Box 330, Folder 2; Trusteesโ€™ Minutes, January 27, 1939; March 24, 1939; December 20, 1940;

[148] See: Peggy Glowackiโ€™s Helen Culver biographical entry in Women Building Chicago 1790-1990: A Biographical Dictionary edited by Rima Lunin Schultz and Adele Hast (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2001) USE SHORT FORM FOR BOOK; Jane Addams to Mary Rozet Smith, March 26, 1895, ser. 1 Swarthmore College Peace Collection, JAC.

[149] Trusteesโ€™ Minutes, January 20, 1942.

[150] This data has been gathered primarily from the Minutes of the Hull-House Association, the Hull-House Year Books and Bulletins: April 25, 1895, March 14, 1903; April 14, 1903; October 15, 1907; January 27, 1908; April 14, 1908: October 30, 1928; November 1, 1928; April 9, 1929; June 18, 1929; October 29, 1929; April 29, 1930;May 27, 1935, Board of Trusteesโ€™ Minutes, Hull-House Collection, Dept. of Spec. Collections, Daley Library, University of Illinois at Chicago (UIC);Hull-House Bulletin 3, no. 12 (November and December 1899): 4. Biographical information on Sewell Avery: Marquis,Whoโ€™s Who Chicago and Illinois, 1945; for Helen Bowen Blair: Marquis, Whoโ€™s Who Chicago and Illinois, 1945; โ€œHelen Culver Funeral To Be Held Saturday,โ€ Chicago Tribune, 20 August 1925, p. 10; โ€œHelen Culver Leaves U. of C. $600,000,โ€ Chicago Tribune, 14 November 1925, p. 1; โ€œC.L. Hutchinson, Banker, Is Dead. Long Active in Civics, Art, and Charities.โ€ Chicago Tribune, 8 October 1924, p. 1. See biographies of Mary Rozet Smith, Mary Wilmarth, Louise deKoven Bowen and Helen Culver in Women Building Chicago 1790-1990: A Biographical Dictionaryedited by Rima Lunin Schultz and Adele Hast (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2001). USE SHORT FORM FOR BOOK

[151] Thomas H. Beacom Jr., lawyer & trust officer, First National Bank; Edward McCormick Blair [Louise Bowenโ€™s grandson], investment banker; Homer Buckley, advertising & direct marketing; Lawrence D. Smith, mining company official; Purcell L. Smith, public utilities; John E. Blunt, III, investment banker; Wallace Flower, executive with William Blair, brokerage house on the N.Y. Stock Exchange and in-laws of the Bowens; William H. Regnery, textile manufacturer were the trustees Louise Bowen brought to the board in the late 1930s and 1940s.

[152] See: Paul Milkman, PM: A New Deal in Journalism, 1940โ€“1948 (New Brunswick, N.J.: Rutgers University Press. 1997), for a discussion of this experiment in Left-leaning journalism that was financed mostly by Field. ; in 1944 Levin was on the personnel practices committee of the HH Board of Trustees. Minutes, March 24, 1944, Folder 7, Series 1, Hull-House Collection.

[153] โ€œDeny Miss Carrโ€™s Politics Caused Hull House Rift. Trustees Say Budget Row Led to Resignation,โ€ Chicago Tribune, 4 January 1943, p. 11; Trusteesโ€™ Minutes, December 1, 1942; Trusteesโ€™ Minutes, December 21, 1942, Hull House Collection.

[154] Trusteesโ€™ Minutes, December 1, 1942; Trusteesโ€™ Minutes, December 21, 1942, Hull House Collection. According to a newspaper account, โ€œthe trustees met in special executive session Monday and voted to accept Miss Carrโ€™s resignation. Only nine of the boardโ€™s 22 members were present.โ€ Sydney J. Harris, โ€œCharlotte Carr Resigning From Hull House Job,โ€ Chicago Daily News, 23 December 1942, p. 1; 4, Folder 543, Hull House Collection.

[155] Alex Elson Oral Interview transcript, OH-074 [interviewed by Stuart J. Hecht] October 12, 1980, 13, Hull House Collection. Elson described how โ€œan issue arose as to whether or not Japanese children from the internment camps should be permitted to come to Bowen Country Club and to Hull House activities and I took a very strong position that they should. This was after Pearl Harbor, and general anti-Japanese feeling . . . Mrs. Bowen, chair of the Board, was a super patriot, and blind in her patriotism and was opposed to this, but I spoke up at the Board Meeting and got some support from Marshall Field, who was then the editor of the Sun-Times, the old Sun. It didnโ€™t do much good. I lost the battle.โ€

[156] Gordon, Pitied But Not Entitled, traces the involvement of progressives like Grace Abbott in the establishment of social security under FDR. For our purposes here I indicate the overlap of the first group of reformers in the New Deal and do not take up Gordonโ€™s more important critique of the role of maternalism in the outcome of a two-tier welfare system in the U.S.

[157] It would be interesting to find out how settlement houses worked with the new community organizations that emerged in the post-World War II decades, from 1947 to 1963.

[158] Sydney J. Harris, โ€œCharlotte Carr Resigning From Hull House Job,โ€ Chicago Daily News, 23 December 1942, p. 1; 4, Folder 543, Hull House Collection; โ€œJane Addams Spirit in Carr Background,โ€ American, 26 December 1942, Folder 543, Hull House Collection; Louise Bowen to Alma Petersen, March 30, 1949. Russell Ballard Papers, Supplement II, Folder 36. Special Collections.

[159] Sydney J. Harris, โ€œCharlotte Carr Resigning From Hull House Job.โ€ NEED REST OF THE CITE.

[160] Louise Bowen to Alma Petersen, March 30, 1949. WHERE?

[161] Sydney J. Harris, โ€œCharlotte Carr Resigning From Hull House Job.โ€

[162] โ€œJane Addams Spirit in Carr Background,โ€ American, December 26, 1942, Folder 543, Hull House Collection, Spec. Coll., UIC. The Union for Democratic Action ironically was established by people on the left who were attempting to create an independent left that was separate from the American Communist Party and organizations perceived as CP fronts. The conservative press never bought this distinction.

[163] โ€œCharlotte Carr, Relief Aide, Dies,โ€ New York Times, 13 July 1956, p. 19.

Revisiting The Social Settlement as Womanโ€™s Space: The Men At Hull-House, 1889-1935.

In the 1980s and 1990s, historians Kathryn Kish Sklar, Helen Lefkowitz Horowitz, and Robyn Muncy identified a new womenโ€™s culture at Hull-House.[1] Their work focused on the early years, analyzing the networks and alliances (across classes and across different sectors of the reform movement).  Active support by clubwomen (for example through volunteer work and financial contributions) allowed Hull-House settlement women to have an autonomous, nurturing, synergistic space from which to help build national and international reform networks.  Seeing Hull-House as a community of women continues to influence our ideas about social reform in the Progressive Era.  Hull-House continues to dominate the reform literature even as historians have attempted to recover the history of the multifarious social settlement movement. [2]

Building on the earlier work of scholars who have focused on the role of women at Hull-House, Mary Jo Deegan, Charlene Haddock Seigfried and Dorothy Ross have focused on the way Hull-House functioned as a place where women were able to carve out an intellectual domain different from the emerging male academic model.[3] Addams argued that she could learn about what the neighbors’ reality consisted of through lived experience and she claimed her work was scientific: she and other residents offered their studies “not as exhaustive treatises, but as recorded observations which may possibly be of value, because they are immediate, and the result of long acquaintance.” Addams made it clear that the authority for her political activism comes from having lived in the neighborhood not as a theoretician or scholar but as an activist engaged in constructive work. This manner of knowing the neighborhood is valorized by Addams and is the hallmark of the sociological investigation undertaken by settlement houses independently of universities or government agencies. Thus Addams created a new role for herself (and for other activist women) without being a professor at a university, a government official, an elected politician, or a captain of industry.  [4]  Jane Addams, in particular, has been recast as a public intellectual, a sociologist, and her writings seen as influential in the development of modern social policy on the industrial state and democracy: her educational ideas and innovative assessments of democracy and social ethics linked to the American pragmatist, John Dewey. [5]

This paper does not aim to dislodge the valuable scholarship mentioned above. Rather, it proposes to provoke some questions about how our interpretation of Hull-House might need to be revised if we factor into our analysis new scholarship that brings men from the periphery of settlement life into the center as influential residents, favored advisors, trustees and financial contributors, and important political allies.  Acknowledging that the notion of Hull-House as womenโ€™s space was a powerful concept for the emerging field of U.S. womenโ€™s history, to what extent did the concept gain its power from the need of the field? To what extent is it still a valid analytic tool? How might it be modified in the light of new research, both research that has been done and research that remains to be done?

Most readers are familiar with the early stories of the two womenโ€”Addams and Starrโ€”who set up housekeeping in the old, dilapidated Hull homestead located in a Chicago neighborhood teeming with immigrants. โ€œAs the years went on,โ€ Alice Hamilton, who had lived at the settlement for twenty-two years, recalled, โ€œHull-House grew till it covered more than a city block and its activities increased in variety as the little group of residents came to include many people of many interests. We had Gerard Swope and his wife, Frederick Deknatel, whose son [William] now continues his fatherโ€™s devoted service, George M. R. Twose, Edward and Charles Yeomans, George Hooker, William l. Chenery, Edith and Grace Abbott, Sophonisba Breckinridge, the Robert Morss Lovetts, Harriet Monroe, and many others.โ€[6] Hamilton named an interesting group. Most of them are individuals not associated with Hull-House. There are quite a few men; and there are married couples.  The following is a shorthand identification of Hamiltonโ€™s group: Gerard Swope, later the president of General Electric, met his wife, Mary Hill, a student of John Dewey, when the two were residents.  Co-officiating at the marriage in 1901, Jane Addams proclaimed the two exhibited exceptional social citizenshipโ€”the highest form of civic engagement in democracy. โ€œBecause all of us here have known Gerard and Mary so intimately, because they have each shown so genuine a sense of social obligation, and because each has for years striven to fulfill something of the social claim, we may perhaps venture to emphasize the social aspects of this marriage.โ€[7]  Frederick Deknatel was a local manufacturer who became a Hull-House resident after the death of his first wife; he met Wilfreda Brockway, who taught in the kindergarten, and they married. The Deknatels remained residents living in one of the apartments set up for married couples. Twose, an Englishman who taught manual training in the public schools and woodworking at the Hull House shops, was the first president of the Chicago Society of Arts and Crafts founded in 1897; he lived at Hull-House until his death.  The Yeoman brothers owned a pump factory in Chicago and both married women they met at Hull-House.  William Chenery was a journalist who after his Hull-House years became the editor of Collierโ€™s Weekly in New York . The Abbotts and Sophonisba Breckinridge are well-known for their work and need little introduction here.[8] Ida Lovett had heard Jane Addams while she was a student at Radcliffe; she and Robert, who was appointed in 1893 instructor in English at the University of Chicago, had visited Hull-House in their earlier years in Chicago and after WWI became active residents; Ida helped Addams administrate and was, according to her husband, “one of Miss Addams’ close companions, sharing her company on journeys and giving her always the watchful care which became more necessary as the years passed.”[9] Lovett had a long career as a professor of literature at the University of Chicago, was an associate editor of The New Republic, and a radical liberal who defended First Amendment rights during the 1920s.  Poet and editor Harriet Monroe was one of many talented people who found kindred spirits in the Hull-House complex. 

One of the major findings of my study of residency at Hull-House is that there were a lot more men at the settlement, even in the early years, than historians have indicated.ย  Between 1889 and 1935, 33 per cent of the Hull-House residents were men.[10] An article in the 1934 ย Hull-House Yearbookย  discussed the fortieth anniversary celebration that was held May 1930 (instead of September 1929) and summed up residency: “It was interesting that of the 350 surviving residentsโ€”naming only those men and women who had been in residence for at least six months continuously and had given substantial service to Hull-Houseโ€”divided into occupations as follows: Business, 58; education, 52; authors and journalists, 25; artists and musicians, 34; law, 18; medicine, 21; government service, 17; social and civic work, 76; agriculturists, 7; home-makers, 42.โ€ [11] ย Male residents dominated the categories of business and law and were quite visible in government service and social and civic work, absent only from the category โ€œhome-makers.โ€ My study of residents at Hull-House between 1889 and 1961 finds that 41 percent were men.[12]

What about other settlement houses in the United States? (Of course, we know that Toynbee Hall in London only had male residents and was the model for settlements worldwide.)  In 1911, the first year that statistics on male and female participation in settlements in the United States was available, โ€œ53 percent of the 214 settlements reporting to investigators housed women only; less than 2 percent only men. The rest accommodated both sexes.โ€[13] That meant 45 percent of American settlements housed women and men.  There are no statistics on what percentages of men were resident in the 45 percent of sexually integrated settlements. So it is speculation to conclude that Hull-House was unusually rich in male residency, although this โ€œcommunity of womenโ€ in fact was significantly populated by men.

There is no evidence that Jane Addams and Ellen Starr ever conceived of their settlement experiment as an effort to develop a new kind of sex-segregated space for women to inhabit.ย  During the several months prior to renting space in the old Hull homestead, Starr and Addams were busy introducing their โ€œschemeโ€ to circles of reform-minded Chicagoans, clubwomen, clergy, and college-educated women and men who might be candidates to join the two founders as residents. ย Starr gleefully reported to Addams that lots of young men had attended a reception held to talk about the plan. This was comforting because both Starr and Addams did not want to be perceived as some sort of โ€œProtestant nuns.โ€ ย Edward L. Burchard, Hull-Houseโ€™s first male resident, came to Hull-House in 1891. He had heard Addams talk about Toynbee Hall in 1888 or 1889. ย โ€œI wonder if you remember the time as a young lady you spoke on Toynbee Hall in the parlors of the First Presbyterian Church at Freeport. This was before you projected Hull-House. Your description of the hungry crowd around the huckster wagon in east London, I shall never forget.โ€[14] Burchard, who eventually served for many years as secretary of the Chicago Recreation Commission, was part of the small circle of women and men at Hull-House who first conceived and then implemented the โ€œbelief that through the exhibit methodโ€ immigrant citizenship could be promoted.[15] Burchard ย later worked at the Field Museum of Natural History, developed innovative educational tours for the Chicago public schools, and with Milton Foreman, Harriet E. Vittum, Lea Taylor, Neva Boyd and others promoted a vast array of cultural, recreational, and civic programs for the Chicago [parks] field house system.[16]

Burchard credited Addams with his interest in public service. Hull-House brought idealistic men as well as women into the widening circles of progressivism and modeled for men an alternative professional route of public service. Other male residentsโ€™ careers attest to the existence of a male dominion of public service that was incubated in social settlements and had far-reaching results. While Robyn Muncy and others are correct in emphasizing that college-educated women were very limited in opportunities to pursue careers instead of traditional womanly work, men who were not interested in the commercial or industrial world and who, like idealistic young women, hoped to work for the betterment of society, faced a variety of problems. If they were inclined to do their work in a religious context, as Graham Taylor, founder of Chicago Commons settlement and professor of applied sociology at the Congregational seminary, chose to do, they still needed a community of kindred spirits who would support new methods of dealing with modern problems. They needed new kinds of educational institutions, which was why Taylor joined with other Chicago settlement leaders to establish the Chicago School of Civics and Philanthropy. [17] In the case of Burchard, who taught at the School of Civics and Philanthropy, his niche was in the new field of adult and public school education outside the traditional classroom in newly created public spaces in urban America. The proliferation of parks and recreation centers, for example, created opportunities for persons who would manage these facilities. New theories about the importance of play in child development, ideas about constructive leisure for adults, and reformist agendas to provide wholesome entertainment as a substitute for saloons, dance halls, and pool rooms in immigrant and working class neighborhoods came out of the experiences of men and women residents of settlement houses.  It is not surprising that by 1912, the high point of progressivism, an infrastructure of theoreticians and researchers, practitioners, and public officials was in place that was implementing the settlement workersโ€™ commitment to a series of closely related reform movements. Men who had been residents at Hull-House found themselves in key positions in this new world of playgrounds, summer camps, programs for the prevention of juvenile delinquency, and programs in public schools like manual training.  Former resident Alexander A. McCormick had been elected president of the Cook County Board in 1912.  Addams had campaigned for his election. โ€œOne of his first undertakings,โ€ Addams recalled, โ€œwas to reorganize the Civil Service Board and to appoint as a member of it an able woman, long identified with the Chicago settlements.โ€[18] The appointee, Anna Nichols โ€œdid much to dissociate civil service from the conception of a cold and correct public official versus the kind-hearted and open-handed politicianโ€ approved Jane Addams. The settlement crowd had learned that the good government type reformers who did not have the benefit of residency in immigrant and working class neighborhoods โ€œoveremphasized the usefulness in keeping the rascals out and had thus allowed [the merit system] to become stranded in the shallow water of negative virtue, failing to launch it upon the deep seas of popular affection.โ€[19] As Addams had cautioned in her analysis of local politics, โ€œit is most difficult to hold to our political democracy and to make it in any sense a social expression and not a mere governmental contrivance, unless we take pains to keep on common ground in our human experiences.โ€[20] Men like A.A. McCormick, then, Addams might have argued, benefited from the settlement experience and the interaction of male and female perspectives.  

Male social reformers who emerged from the social settlement movement instead of menโ€™s good government clubs that met in downtown office buildings and had remote connections with neighborhood life, one can speculate, might not share the same agenda; perhaps the male reformers who experienced settlement life developed a viewpoint closer to the female political culture. [21]  George E. Hooker, mentioned above, was one of the few advocates of city  planning who criticized the Burnham Plan for its failure to deal with the urban housing problem. He wrote for the Review of Reviews and other periodicals including the Chicago Tribune, Hooker held degrees in law and the ministry. He was as comfortable with the City Club of Chicago as he was with the Hull-House Menโ€™s Clubโ€”a neighborhood organizationโ€”and his sensibilities about urban problems gained from his long residency in Hull-House and daily exposure to the realities of working class life.

Another Hull-House male resident, Ernest Carroll Moore, who later became the president of the University of California, Los Angeles, did his investigation of the saloons of the Nineteenth Ward โ€“Johnny Powerโ€™s fiefdom and location of the settlement houseโ€”for the Committee of Fifty while he was in residence at Hull-House. He lived at Hull-House with his wife, Dr. Dorothea Moore, a physician, while he was working toward a Ph.D. at the University of Chicago. His contact with skilled, ambitious workers in the neighborhood was extensive; he taught college extension courses to the English-speaking Americans of Irish and German descent who had not yet abandoned the old neighborhood and to whom the classes and educational offerings of the social settlement answered their strivings for self-improvement.  Mooreโ€™s unconventional conclusions about the role of the saloon in working-class lifeโ€”more empathetic and democratic in attitude than the typical temperance reformerโ€”were not unlike Addamsโ€™s realistic assessment of why the ward boss survived. In both cases the traditional institutions were performing necessary functions in the social life of people. If reformers wanted to transform popular culture and uplift the masses, they had to find effective substitutes that met the everyday needs of people.  

Numbers of males and females, of course, do not tell the whole story of the gender of institutions. Public schools are notorious as institutions with overwhelming majorities of women teachers but are dominated in the nineteenth and for more than half of the twentieth century by male administrators and male school board members. Would we call public schools a female dominion? There is no question that during the first twenty years of its existence, Hull-House was dominated by strong, independent women who emerged as leading figures in diverse fields and who influenced national events.  It is also clear that the environment at Hull-House was fertile for the development of individual careers and for alliances and lifelong and sustaining friendships among women. 

Much has been made of the way in which traditional domestic space at Hull-House was transformed into a new kind of cultural and social space that was liberating for women. Hull-House residents were freed from domestic chores [which other working-class women performed instead], and were able to actively engage in community affairs as single women without benefit of male sponsorship or guardianship.  Women settlement workers were treated like nurses or religious sisters and allowed to roam the neighborhoods, use public transportation, and come and go as they pleased without losing status or respectability as middle-class women in Victorian America.  On the other hand, there were many aspects of the Hull-House physical complex that adhered to the conventional gendered space relationships in the society as a whole.  The Hull-House Womenโ€™s Club was housed in a building just for that purpose; the Hull-House Menโ€™s Club had its own building and the interior spaces of both clubs conformed to notions of masculinity and femininity that most late nineteenth century Americans would recognize.  Childrenโ€™s care was done by women. While there were bohemian aspects to the complexโ€”artistsโ€™ studios; salon-like parlors where men and women residents discussed politics, religion, and sex; and there was a constant flow of visitors whose political and social views were controversialโ€”there was also decorum and modesty. Women residents lived in the main house; men had a cottage where they roomed; married couples were housed in apartments that were more private. Additional sex-segregated housing for working-class women and men was established at the Jane Club and at a male residence that was a short-lived experiment. The sexual orientation of the residents did not appear to be a matter for discussion, nor were other personal matters, according to Alice Hamilton. โ€œWe knew each othersโ€™ opinions and interests and work and we discussed them often and freely, but the atmosphere was impersonal, rather astonishingly so for a group composed chiefly of women.โ€[22] Everyone acknowledged the special relationship Jane Addams had with Mary Rozet Smith; yet the two lived separately, with Mary remaining in her familyโ€™s townhouse on Chicagoโ€™s fashionable North Side.[23]

It was in the governance of Hull-House where the nature of gender at Hull-House becomes more complicated. There is no question that the case for Hull-House as womenโ€™s space can best be made from the model of leadership provided by Jane Addams. This was an institution run by a womanโ€”or was it? In 1935, the Hull-House settlement had existed for forty-five years as a private, not-for-profit association governed by a board of seven trustees, including Jane Addams who called herself โ€œhead residentโ€ and did not take a salary. She was, until 1907, both the president and the treasurer of this board. The majority of the trustees had held their positions from the 1890sโ€”when the system was put into placeโ€”until Jane Addamsโ€™s death in 1935, or, if they preceded her, their own death. The trustees, during the Addamsโ€™s years, were women and men who overall can be described as wealthy civic-minded progressives who were responding to the evils of the industrial city. Addams, one of their class,[24] had established the settlement with her own funds and they backed her โ€œexperimentโ€ and accepted her leadership. Since Addams was a volunteer who invested her own money in the settlement, she fit a model of womanly benevolence not one of professionalism. The trustees were there to offer advice and counsel, not to supervise or to develop policy, unless asked directly. Addams, then, had a great deal of personal discretion and reigned almost completely unchallenged by the close-knit group of trustees.[25] In addition, Hull-House was not affiliated with a religious denomination or a university so had an enviable independent position. This may be one of the most significant sources of female empowerment at the settlement.  At Hull-House Jane Addams did not have to report to the kind of traditional male-dominated board and administrative hierarchy that ran settlements affiliated with religious denominations or universities.

The Hull-House trustees also were among the settlementโ€™s major contributors: multi-millionaire heiress and leading civic reformer Louise Bowen, who continued to dominate the trustees until her death in 1953; Mary Rozet Smith, Janeโ€™s life partner; Helen Culver, the heir of the Charles Hull real estate empire, and owner of the Hull homestead[26] and the property surrounding it; Mary Wilmarth[27], a feminist clubwoman and one of Hull-Houseโ€™s earliest supporters; William H. Colvin,  retired businessman and chairman of the executive committee of the Municipal Votersโ€™ League; Julius Rosenwald, who owned Sears Roebuck, Co., and was a leading philanthropist known for his support of education for African Americans in the South and his sponsorship of the NAACP; and Sewell Avery, president of the U.S. Gypsum Company and Chairman of the Board of Montgomery Ward & Company. Completing the list of trustees were the philosopher John Dewey, wealthy businessmen and art patrons Edward B. Butler and Charles L. Hutchinson, and Allen B. Pond, architect and social activist whose life had been animated by the ideals of the arts and crafts movement.  When old-timers died, they were replaced by other family members or individuals well-known to those on the board. Charles Hull Ewing โ€œreplacedโ€ his cousin, Helen Culver; Louise Bowen added her daughter Helen Bowen Blair in 1929 when the number of trustees increased from seven to nine.[28]

From the earliest days of settlement life, Addams relied on Pond, Colvin, and Mary Rozet Smithโ€™s father, Charles Mather Smith, in an on-going โ€œconversationโ€ about the plans she had for Hull-Houseโ€™s expansion and development. Colvin probably reminded Addams of the best men of her fatherโ€™s generation. ย A Civil War veteran, Colvin was the son of a New York shipper. Initially the young man Colvin worked for a large and established importing house in New York City before following a pattern of many East Coast business families by moving to Chicago to take advantage of the westward expansion of commerce. He became, by 1887, the largest importer in the city. Never involved in politics, he was one of sixteen good government reformers who established the Municipal Votersโ€™ League of which he served as chairmen of its executive committee. He was just the sort of enlightened capitalist who Addams cultivated andย from which she obtained financial support. When trustee William Colvin died unexpectedly in 1896, Addams was in Russia.ย  She received word of Colvinโ€™s death and wrote Gertrude Barnum, a resident who was more or less in charge of daily activities at the settlement during Addamsโ€™s six-month sojourn in Europe. โ€œOf course you know as well as I what a blow [Colvinโ€™s death] โ€ฆ is to H.H. and what a genuine personal sorrow it is as wellโ€ Addams acknowledged. Indicating how much the settlement relied on Colvin (who was โ€œdeveloping in all sorts of directions mostly in the direction of money getter for general expensesโ€[29]) she imagined Barnum feeling โ€œperfectly bereft . . . as if the prop had fallen out.โ€ [30] On her part Addams, who had just visited Tolstoy in his country estate and was scheduled to remain away from Hull-House for another six to eight weeks, lost interest in the rest of her trip and wanted โ€œto be at home.โ€[31]

While it is true that the major funding of Hull-House came from a handful of women who developed extraordinarily close relationships with Addams, the male trustees, who also contributed considerable amounts, made significant contributions,[32] especially Julius Rosenwald, Joseph T. Bowen, and Charles Mather Smith, the last two mentioned the husband and father respectively of Louise deKoven Bowen and Mary Rozet Smith.[33] More than any quantifiable amount, the visibility of such well-known Chicago industrialists and capitalists like Charles Hutchinson and Sewell Avery legitimated the institution in the eyes of society. These men  demonstrated to wealthy women like Helen Culver and Louise Bowen โ€“who were the major contributors in absolute figuresโ€”that they were investing in an institution that was a going concern.  Bowen and Culver were fiscally conservative women. Their support for Hull-House was not automatic but had to be earned. Bowen had been impressed by Addamsโ€™s judicious assessment of George Pullman during the 1894 Pullman Strike.[34] The daughter  and granddaughter of wealthy capitalists on both her maternal and paternal sides, Bowen had faith in Addams because she sensed that at heart the reformer was not a revolutionary and could see both sides of the labor and capital conflict.  Bowen would have been the last person to invest in an enterprise that was attempting to construct a space for women that was in opposition to family values or was some utopian scheme with no demonstrable practical value.[35] She felt comfortable with the male trustees because they were very successful capitalists and industrialists like her kinsmen and her husband. In a sense, the same could be said for Mary Rozet Smith. Addams understood that it was important to cultivate the entire Smith family and that Charles Mather Smith, had to be assured of the rationality and stability of the Hull-House enterprise.[36]

The case of architect Allen Pond also demonstrates how the presence of men performed a salutary role for the female trustees. Addams met Pond before she had selected the dilapidated Charles Hull homestead as the site for a settlement house.  He was one of the many reform-minded Chicagoans to whom Addams and Ellen Gates Starr introduced their scheme to open a settlement house and, from the beginning, Pond embraced the idea. Pond was the architect for the twelve additional buildings that were constructed from 1889 to 1907 as the settlement complex took shape and he served as secretary of the settlementโ€™s board of trustees for thirty-four years, until his death in 1929. Pond had other commitments in Chicagoโ€”he was the architect for most of the cityโ€™s settlement housesโ€”but he served as the โ€œgo-betweenโ€ in Addamsโ€™s initially difficult relationship with Helen Culver. Culver, who had inherited the substantial real estate business of her cousin, Charles Hull, in 1889, was a shrewd woman who had been the actual manager of the real estate firm for many years.  Culver owned the Hull homestead and all of the property that later became the settlement complex. As a landlady she was tough; eventually she warmed to the work that Addams and Starr had inaugurated, donating the land and in 1920 an additional quarter of a million dollars worth of securities. It was Culver who pushed a reluctant Addams into โ€œinstitutionalizingโ€ the โ€œexperimentโ€ by demanding it be incorporated under Illinois law (if Addams wanted her support). And part of the agreement was that Culver, or a relative of Culver, would always have a seat as a trustee of the Hull-House Association.  Without Allen Pondโ€™s skillful, persistent, and sensitive handling of Culver, it is conceivable that the enterprise would not have flourished in the manner which it did.

So the realities of institution-building brought Addams into close association with men and women who were rich and influential people.  Instead of clipping her wings, they managed to protect Addams. The meteoric rise to international prominence that Addams and the settlement achieved also gave her a protected status.[37] After her death, there were no head residents (now called directors) of equal stature or, obviously, whose relationship to the trustees had an equivalency.[38] Her relationship with male and female trustees and contributors was very empowering for Addams and gave her the ability to speak out on many controversial stands without fear of reprisal, and to defend the rights of political dissidents worldwide. It allowed her to personally ally herself with unpopular causes and individuals, to establish radical organizations such as the Womenโ€™s International League for Peace and Freedom, and to maintain a large degree of freedom for the individual residents who came to live in the Hull-House complex.[39]

There was yet another influence which men at Hull-House brought to the female-run settlement. One of the largest occupational categories of the 350 residents who were still living in 1930, at the time that the survey was made, was that of business.  It could be argued that Addams and the settlement influenced young men who were headed for careers in business in a positive direction. At the same time, knowledge and understanding of such individuals, especially as they evolved in their careers, gave Addams an unusual perspective regarding what historians have identified as welfare capitalism. The fact that both businessmen and labor leaders felt they could have a role in Hull-House was in part a recognition of Addamsโ€™s approach to cross-class interactions and her commitment to bringing all sides together. Between 1894 and 1930 Addams had reacted to crises in industrial capitalism and to men like George Pullman by advocating negotiation: she called for strong labor organizations and for enlightened stewardship on the part of owners.  She disliked conflict and preferred arbitration and reconciliation. She was a relatively inexperienced young woman when in 1894 as the representative of the Civic Federation of Chicago she unsuccessfully attempted to bring George Pullman and labor leaders at his company who hoped to gain recognition of their union together to settle the Pullman conflict.[40] Her first significant article on the role of the settlement and the labor conflict, included in Hull-House Maps & Papers (1895)[41] prefigured her later support of the role of the State as arbitrator in industrial conflict. Refusing to accept the inevitability of class conflict, Addams differed from Florence Kelley and Ellen Gates Starr.  Her analysis of the strengths and weaknesses of Pullman and his planned town, for example, were based on her belief in the democratic process where workersโ€™ rights to negotiate the conditions of the workplace and wages and hours were accepted by owners. Indeed, Pullman, by taking away the rights of his workers to determine how they would live outside of work, had stripped them of their citizenship. While she understood the reason why workers went on strike and even admired the solidarity of sympathy strikes, her goal of industrial harmony was paramount and often created misunderstandings about her positions from capitalists and workers. She was profoundly dedicated to democratic solutions to conflict and for Addams this meant the acceptance of the concept of interdependency and mutuality in all social relationships. [42] 

It is not surprising, then, that Hull-House welcomed industrial managers and businessmen as residents as well as labor leaders and radicals who advocated different political and economic solutions to the industrial conflict of the era. Addamsโ€™s major agenda, one that she articulated innumerable times in her writing, was to create a new kind of space where the expression of a democratic social intercourse was possible. โ€œUp to the time that I met [Hull-House resident Gerard] Swope, I had associated only with workers and trade-unionists,โ€ Russian Jewish immigrant Philip Davis  explained. โ€œTheir doctrine that all bosses were evil men and, by inference, that all trade-unionists were righteous, appeared absurd when I saw what sort of individual Swope was.โ€  Swope taught English and arithmetic at Hull-House and Davis, who was trying to improve himself, eagerly allowed his new mentor to correct his speech. โ€œOftentimes we went to his laboratory at Western Electric, where he showed me how to conduct experiments in physics and chemistryโ€ Davis recollected.[43] All this prepared the young immigrant for college entrance examinations.  As did Addams, Swope encouraged Davis to take an interest in labor, the field to which he returned after completing his education. Swope was an example โ€œof the future industrialist, at ease with labor men like [Abraham] Bisno, [Sidney] Hillman and others of his day, as well as with the prominent figures representing managementโ€ Davis concluded.[44] Both Bisno and Hillman were labor leaders with deep connections to Hull-House.

At the same time Addams was on good terms with the heads of many manufacturing concerns.  Enos S. Burton, who encouraged his โ€œmost promising young menโ€ from Western Electric to live at Hull-House, had most likely sent Gerard Swope to Hull-House, currently at Western Electric and the future head of General Electric; he also pushed Walter S. Gifford, the future head of American Telephone & Telegraph in the direction of the settlement, where he, too, was a resident.  โ€œLet them see all they can of all kinds of people and of their requirements,โ€ Burton told Addams. โ€œIt would be the best possible preparation in this business of electricity which is pushing out so rapidly into so many new fields in response to the incredible variety of human needs.โ€[45]

Swope had been a resident of Hull-House in the late 1890s. The son of German Jews from St. Louis, Missouri, Swopeโ€™s family had prospered (his father was a clock manufacturer in St. Louis) and Gerard graduated from Massachusetts Institute of Technology in 1895.  When Swope was President of Mercantile Electric Company  for a short period of time in St. Louis, he and his wife, Mary Dayton Hill also a resident, did not give up their interest in understanding the working class, and they rented two houses next to one another in a slum neighborhood very much like the one in which Hull-House was situated. There Mary Swope set up textile looms just like the ones she had used in her work with Italian women at Hull-House, and began doing crafts with the immigrant women and men who were her new neighbors.  Their stay in St. Louis was short, however, but the pattern of activity for the couple, as prophesized in Jane Addamsโ€™s wedding statement in 1901, had been established: the couple integrated raising children and homelife with Swopeโ€™s commitment to enlightened industrial management, and Mary and Gerardโ€™s support of a democratic social ethics through social settlements, and engagement in civic affairs both nationally and internationally.

Back in Chicago, Swope was given the responsibility of reorganizing Western Electricโ€™s Hawthorne factory. He โ€œbrace[d] Western Electric for the panic of 1907โ€ giving him a chance to โ€œtest his theories about what to do in a period of diminishing business.โ€[46] When a strike threatened, Swope consulted with his Hull-House colleagues and took their advice to negotiate honestly with his workers. [47]According to business historian Ellis W. Hawley, between 1913 and 1922 Swope accomplished three tasks that โ€œenhanced his reputation as an organizational geniusโ€: a systematic reorganization of Western Electricโ€™s foreign interests; as a dollar-a year man during World War I, the overhaul of the Army Supply Service; and third, a rebuilding of General Electricโ€™s operations abroad. โ€œAs the first president of International General Electric, a GE subsidiary, Swope became the prime mover behind an intricate series of corporate reorganizations and multinational business agreements, and in association with such foreign statesmen as Walther Rathenau of Germany and Louis Loucheur of France he took a keen interest in European reconstruction.โ€[48]

 Internally, Swope remained true to the standards for industrial relations that he had gleaned from his relationships with Hull-House reformers. He employed Dr. Alice Hamilton, whose expertise in industrial toxicology was well-known to him since his Hull-House days, to oversee the industrial environment of the GE factories to ensure the health of the workers, and by 1923 he was experimenting with stock options for his employees. [49]  Meanwhile both Mary and Gerard were on the boards of Greenwich House and the Henry Street settlements in New York and Mary continued her work with the Womenโ€™s International League for Peace and Freedom.

Meanwhile Addams had become increasingly an advocate for the โ€œAmerican effort to combine industrial and commercial activities that shall operate by consentโ€ as an alternative to โ€œthe strong-arm control by employersโ€ of industry, or the โ€œconstant struggle between organized capital and organized labor with the result in some trades of trade-union tyranny, and in others of employersโ€™ tyranny, in either case accompanied by conflict and instability.โ€[50] She favored a mixed economy: municipalization of electric systems; Federal projects like Boulder Dam; and privately run economic activities โ€œif the latter can be controlled when specifically dangerous or anti-social.โ€ [51] She had been impressed with men like Gerard Swope and Julius Rosenwald, the latter attempting similar experiments with stock ownership for his employees at Sears, Roebuck& Company in Chicago.  Even with the financial crisis of 1929, Addams could write in 1930 that โ€œa mixed type of state with competitive and cooperative elements may have the greatest survival value and prove to be the most serviceable.โ€[52] She could even look with hopeful anticipation of the globalization of American business.  In the General Electric plants she had visited in China and Japan she had witnessed the improvement of the workers of these countries โ€œso long regarded as mere labor power, lifted into regions where a standard of living became a matter of world-wide concern.โ€[53] She was happy to acknowledge the Hull-House link with Gerard Swope, who โ€œwas preparing to announce an unemployment plan designed to make funds available for such of the companyโ€™s 75,000 employees as may be forced into idleness in time of business depression.โ€[54] Swope had acknowledged the influence of Hull-House and Addams in a letter in which he detailed the new plan.[55] โ€œIn September 1931, with the economy mired in depression, Swopeโ€™s vision of an organized capitalism became the basis for the much publicized Swope Plan.  All major firms, he proposed, should be organized into mandatory  trade associations, and under federal supervision these should regulate economic activity and provide social insurance programs.โ€ [56]

Initially met with strong criticism from the business community, Swopeโ€™s approach was adopted in the National Industrial Recovery Act of 1933, and Swope served on such implementing agencies as the Industrial Advisory Board, the National Labor Board, and the Business and Advisory and Planning Council. Swope supported the New Deal after 1934, unlike the majority of businessmen, although he continued to maintain that industrial self-government should be an important part of any American plan.  He also advocated the creation of a federal social insurance system and from the start advocated that both employers and employees contribute to such a program.[57] When in 1935 the National Chamber of Commerce voted to deny support for FDRโ€™s programs, including unemployment insurance and other aspects of the proposed social security legislation, Swope and a handful of the major industrialists formed a subcommittee that voiced a minority opinion and offered their support to President Roosevelt.  Swope became one of thirty business and professional leaders who served as voluntary economic advisers to the administration.  Swopeโ€™s advocacy of the social security system came out of his belief in the cooperation of private and public sectors to create a humane society. When the Supreme Court declared the National Recovery Act unconstitutional in 1935, Swope went public: โ€œMaximum hours and minimum wages, and the abolition of child labor have come to stay, despite the verdict on the NRA.โ€[58]

Addams would have been gratified with the news of Swopeโ€™s advocacy of the Social Security Act whose passage she did not live to see. It was, perhaps, the highest example of the kind of enlightened industrial relations she had envisioned when she began her advocacy of a social citizenship for both capital and labor. How much she would have credited Swopeโ€™s Hull-House experiences in shaping his social policies we can only conjecture.

Addamsโ€™s The Second Twenty Years was published in November, 1930, before the financial crash had become a deep and catastrophic economic depression.  During the final five years of her life, Addams endured health crises and weakened physical well-being; she was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize in 1931, which helped to repair the long rejection by many Americans of her international policies that had begun in 1915. She withstood the death of her life partner, Mary Rozet Smith in 1934.  And until her death, she remained engaged in peace movement activities and advocated for New Deal programs. Hull-House had significant connections to the New Deal because many of the New Dealers were former Hull-House residents or allies of the reform network in which the settlement was a leading force.[59] Historians have linked the powerful women of Hull-House with the New Deal and the construction of the welfare state but have overlooked the powerful men of Hull-House who were also significant players in the Franklin Delano Roosevelt administrations.  Gerard Swopeโ€™s advocacy of New Deal reforms is an example of the male dominion that emanated from Hull-House and stretched to the national level of leadership at a crucial time in Americaโ€™s struggle with industrialization.

This paper is a beginning effort to use the gender lens in a more complicated interpretation of the construction of social roles for men and women. As the editor of a decade-long research project that culminated in a reference book on Chicago women, I share with the historians of the 1980s and 1990s the goal of uncovering the role of women in society in all of the depth and complexity that such work requires. It was critically important to bring women out of the shadows and when historians did so, they were shocked by the amount of work that women had accomplished before the vote was achieved and during a long period in which cultural constructions of femininity and womanhood, along with legal disabilities, made it difficult for women to change institutions and empower themselves.  Determining how women were able to achieve political and policy influence, then, was a question of enormous importance. Without this foundational work it would not be possible to ask the questions this paper raised.  This paper has focused entirely on Hull-House, but it argues that the more complicated gender story that it is attempting to tell has value for the interpretation of progressivism and post-progressive reform of capitalism that has suddenly become even more timely.  The progressives remain a difficult group to interpret.  The identity and meaning of progressivism continues to challenge historians.  The revised gender model of Hull-House as a space for a new kind of interaction between men and women may help to get at the dynamics of social policy formation and political activism that formed the modern American welfare state.


[1] Helen L. Horowitz,  Hull House as Womenโ€™s Space.โ€ Chicago History, Vol. 12 (1983):40-55; Kathryn Kish Sklar, โ€œHull House in the 1890s: A Community of Women Reformers.โ€ Signs: Journal of Women in Culture and Society 10 (Summer 1985): 658-77; Robyn Muncy, Creating A Female Dominion in American Reform 1890-1935 (New York & Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1991). 

[2] Minna Carson, Settlement Folk: Social Thought and the American Settlement Movement, 1885-1930. University of Chicago Press, 1990; Elisabeth Lasch-Quinn,  Black Neighbors: Race and the Limits of Reform in the American Settlement House Movement, 1890-1945. The University of North Carolina Press, 1993; Ruth Hutchinson Crocker, Social Work and Social order: The Settlement Movement in Two Industrial Cities, 1889-1930 (Urbana & Chicago: University of Illinois Press, 1992.  Ironically, the first modern book on the settlement movement in the United States, Allen F. Davis, Spearheads for Reform: The Social Settlements and the Progressive Movement 1890-1914.  Oxford University Press, 1967, remains an amazingly comprehensive study. Davis was quite aware of the women in the movement and how the settlements offered an important alternative for the growing numbers of college-educated women who had a sense of uselessness; but he also noted that male college students also wanted to put theory into action. (Davis, Spearheads for Reform, 37.)

[3] Charlene Haddock Seigfried,. Pragmatism and Feminism: Reweaving the Social Fabric. (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1996); Mary Jo. Deegan, Jane Addams and the Men of the Chicago School, 1892-1918 (New York: Transaction Books, 1988); Dorothy Ross, The Origins of American Social Science. Cambridge University Press, 1991; Dorothy Ross, โ€œGendered Social Knowledge: Domestic Discourse, Jane Addams, and the Possibilities of Social Science,โ€ in Gender and American Social Science: The Formative Years edited by Helene Silverberg (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 1998).

[4] Rima Lunin Schultz, โ€œIntroduction,โ€ in Hull-House Maps and Papers: A Presentation of Nationalities and Wages in a Congested District of Chicago, Together with Comments and Essays on Problems Growing Out of the Social Conditions by the residents of Hull-House (Urbana and Chicago: University of Illinois Press, 2007; originally published 1895.)

[5] Leon Fink, Progressive Intellectuals and the Dilemmas of Democratic Commitment (London & Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard University Press, 1997), 20-22; Fink discusses โ€œa distinctive womenโ€™s intellectual culture,โ€ 23, following Dorothy Rossโ€™s lead. See also Louis Menand, The Metaphysical Club: A Story of Ideas in America (New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2001), especially his chapter on Chicago.

[6] Alice Hamilton, Exploring the Dangerous Trades; The Autobiography of Alice Hamilton, M.D. (Beverly, Mass.: OEM Press, 1995; originally published 1943),108.

[7] Jane Addams [Address at the Wedding of Mary Hill and Gerard Swope. August 1901], in JAMC (Reel 46-1069), Special Collections, Richard J. Daley Library, University of Illinois at Chicago.                            

[8] Lela B. Costin, Two Sisters for Social Justice: A Biography of Grace and Edith Abbott. University of Illinois Press, 1983; Ellen Fitzpatrick,  Endless Crusade: Women Social Scientists and Progressive Reform. Oxford University Press, 1990; Robyn Muncy, Creating A Female Dominion in American Reform 1890-1935 (New York & Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1991). 

[9] Robert M. Lovett, excerpt from his autobiography All Our Years, printed in Mary Lynn Bryan & Allen Davis, One Hundred Years At Hull-House, pp. 166-167;

[10] Information taken from a list that was prepared in 1929 of all Hull-House Residents who had lived in the House for at least six consecutive months and had entered into its activities. The names were organized into groups that divided the former (and current) residents according to professional/occupational categories and gave their current business and home addresses. There was a note indicating that the Hull-House Association files were incomplete regarding former residents. See: Hull-House Residents 1889-1929, Hull-House Association Records, folder 294, Special Collections, Richard J. Daley Library, UIC.

[11] HH Yearbook , 1934, 69.

[12] My sources began with the list cited above and these additional materials: Alice Miller, “Hull House,” The Charities (February 1892): 167-173, clipping in Hull House Scrapbook I, HHA Records, Special Collections, Richard J. Daley Library (RJDL), UIC; โ€œNoble Work at Hull House,” Chronicle, June 9, 1895; Jane Addams to [Enos M.] Barton, 1896 Nov 6,  Rockford College Archives, in JAMC (Reel 3-0492-0495), Spec. Coll. RJD Lib., UIC; Florence Kelley, “Hull-House,” New England Magazine 18, no. 5 (July 1898): 550-66; HH Bulletin, 1903-04, vol. 6, no. 1;  HH Bulletin, 1906-07, 5-6; 1910, 2; Edward L. Burchard to Jane Addams, December 10, 1910, Swarthmore College Peace Collection, Jane Addams Papers, Series 1, in JAMC (reel 5-1393-1395), Spec. Coll. RJD Lib., UIC; Hull-House Yearbook, 1921, 4; Adena Miller Rich, “Report to Hull-House Trustees,” November 27, 1935, Adena Miller Rich Papers, Folder 17, Spec. Coll.,  RJD Lib., UIC; List of Residents, Autumn, 1935, Adena Miller Rich Papers, folder 40, Spec. Coll.; “New Residentsโ€”Fall 1936,” (October 5, 1936, pp. 1-3) Adena Miller Rich Papers, folder 40; “Occupations of the Residents of Hull-House,” (1935-36, pp. 1-2), Adena Miller Rich Papers, folder 40; Hull-House Magazine, vol.I, no.1 (November 1939); Donna Hodgman, “People Live At Hull-House,” 1943, typescript, Jane Addams Memorial Collection , Spec. Coll., UIC; Russell W. Ballard to the Board of Trustees, HHA, January 27, 1947, Welfare Council Papers, Box 330, Folder 2, Chicago History Museum; Mary Lynn Bryan, editor. “Residents and Workers at H.H.” The Jane Addams Papers: A Comprehensive Guide (1996).

[13] Robyn Muncy, Creating A Female Dominion in American Reform 1890-1935 (New York & Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1991), 9-10. In 1911 there were 400 settlements in the U.S. so these statistics only reflect half of the houses. So we have to settle for a very incomplete overview of male participation in settlement houses that were sexually integrated.

[14] Edward L. Burchard to Jane Addams, Dec. 21, 1931, Swarthmore College Peace Collection, Jane Addams Papers, Series 1 in JAMC (reel 23-139), Spec. Coll. Richard J. Daley Library, The University of Illinois at Chicago.

[15] Edward L. Burchard to Jane Addams, Dec. 10, 1910, Swarthmore College Peace Collection, Jane Addams Papers, Series 1, in JAMC (reel 5-1393-1395).

[16] Edward L. Burchard to Jane Addams, March 14, 1935, Swarthmore College Peace Collection, Jane Addams Papers, Series 1, in JAMC (reel 26-1188).

[17] There is a complicated gender story involved with the Chicago School of Civics and Philanthropy and its transformation into the School of Social Service Administration at the University of Chicago. Here I am indicating only that Graham Taylor who definitely had the male advantage of career opportunities in the traditional ministry, and in other fields such as academe or medicine, felt an urgent need to create something new for men and women. See: Muncy, Creating a Female Dominion, 66-92.

[18] Jane Addams, The Second Twenty Years At Hull-House (New York: The Macmillan Company, 1930), 16-17.

[19] Ibid.

[20] Jane Addams, Democracy and Social Ethics (Cambridge, Mass: The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 1964 ), 221-222. First published in 1902.

[21] Maureen Flanagan, Seeing With Their Hearts: Chicago Women and the Vision of the Good City 1871-1933. (Princeton, N.J.: Princeton University Press, 2002) argues that women and menโ€™s experiences were sufficiently different and that the womenโ€™s political culture which emerged in part out of settlement houses and womenโ€™s clubs led to a different vision of the city from that of male reformers. This book expands an earlier article where Flanagan compares the Womenโ€™s City Club and the [Menโ€™s] City Club in Chicago.

[22] Alice Hamilton, Exploring the Dangerous Trades, 61.

[23] Rima Lunin Schultz, โ€œSmith, Mary Rozet,โ€ in Women Building Chicago 1790-1990: A Biographical Dictionary edited by Rima Lunin Schultz and Adele Hast (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2001).

[24] Addams, the daughter of an Illinois State Senator and businessman who died in 1881, inherited a portion of his estate and was able to restore the old Hull homeโ€™s interior and contribute to the settlement budget, albeit with contributions from others, until about 1895. Addams was clearly a privileged woman who did not need to work; she was not, however, rich, as attested to the small amount of property and outright cash she had at the time of her death.                                                 

[25] The one exception to this is the relationship she had with Helen Culver; the incorporation of Hull-House in 1895 was a condition imposed by Culver before she would make a permanent relationship with Addams who, from 1889, had leased the house and had negotiated for each new lot for the expansion of the complex. Allen B. Pond to Helen Culver, April 18, 1906. JAMC Reel 4-1331, Spec. Coll., Daley Library, UIC.  See also: Jane Addams Memorial Collection correspondence, 1889, reel 2.  Letters to landlord Helen Culver from Jane Addams in March 1890.  Through the early years Addams struggled to get Culver to donate rent and eventually more buildings, finally convincing her after several years to offer some of the lots on the block for sale.  See especially the letter from Jane Addams to โ€œDearestโ€ (Mary Rozet Smith) March 23, 1898, JAMC reel 2.

[26] The Hull homestead was the building where Jane Addams and Ellen G. Starr opened the settlement house in 1889. For a good biography of Helen Culver see: Rima Lunin Schultz and Adele Hast, editors, Women Building Chicago: A Biographical Dictionary 1790-1990 (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 20010.

[27] See the biographical entry of Wilmarth in Women Building Chicago. Wilmarth, among other distinctions, was the mother-in-law of Harold Ickes, a young Chicago lawyer who later went to Washington D.C.

[28] This data has been gathered primarily from the Minutes of the Hull-House Association, the Hull-House Year Books and Bulletins: April 25, 1895, March 14, 1903; April 14, 1903; October 15, 1907; January 27, 1908; April 14, 1908: October 30, 1928; November 1, 1928; April 9, 1929; June 18, 1929; October 29, 1929;  April 29, 1930;May 27, 1935, Board of Trusteesโ€™ Minutes, Hull-House  Collection, Dept. of Spec. Collections, Daley Library, University of Illinois at Chicago (UIC); Hull-House Bulletin 3, no. 12 (November and December 1899): 4. Biographical information on Sewell Avery: Marquis, Whoโ€™s Who Chicago and Illinois, 1945; for Helen Bowen Blair: Marquis, Whoโ€™s Who Chicago and Illinois, 1945; โ€œHelen Culver Funeral To Be Held Saturday.โ€ Chicago Tribune, Aug. 20, 1925, pg. 10; โ€œHelen Culver Leaves U. of C. $600,000.โ€ Chicago Tribune, Nov. 14, 1925, pg. 1; โ€œC.L. Hutchinson, Banker, Is Dead. Long Active in Civics, Art, and Charities.โ€ Chicago Tribune, Oct. 8, 1924. pg. 1. See biographies of Mary Rozet Smith, Mary Wilmarth, Louise deKoven Bowen and Helen Culver in Women Building Chicago: A Biographical Dictionary 1790-1990 edited by Rima Lunin Schultz and Adele Hast (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2001).

[29] Jane Addams to Mary Rozet Smith, June 27, 1895, in JAMC (reel 2-1637-1645), Special Collections, Richard J. Daley Library, The University of Illinois at Chicago (UIC).

[30] Jane Addams to [Barnum, Gertrude], July 25, 1896, Ellen Gates Starr Papers, Sophia Smith Collection, Smith College, in JAMC [  ] Special Collections, Richard J. Daley Library, The University of Illinois at Chicago.

[31] Ibid.

[32] The major study of who funded Hull-House was published by Kathryn Kish Sklar:  โ€œWho Funded Hull House.โ€ Lady Bountiful Revisited: Women, Philanthropy, and Power. Edited by Kathleen McCarthy. Rutgers University Press, 1990. This study focused on the early years of the social settlement.

[33]  Quarterly meeting of the Trustees of Hull House Association, October 30, 1928; Meeting of Trustees of Hull-House Association, November 1, 1928, Hull House Collection, Special Collections, Richard J. Daley Library, UIC.

[34] Bowenโ€™s version is in her autobiography Growing Up With A City (New York: Macmillan, 1926), 82. See Kathryn Kish Sklar, โ€œWho Funded Hull House?โ€ in Lady Bountiful Revisited: Women Philanthropy and Power. Edited by Kathleen D. McCarthy (New Brunswick & London: Rutgers University Press, 1990), 141. Fn.39.

[35] I have written about Louise deKoven Bowen who was a prominent Episcopalian in an essay, โ€œWomanโ€™s Work and Womanโ€™s Calling in the Episcopal Church: Chicago, 1880-1989,โ€ in Episcopal Women: Gender, Spirituality, and Commitment in an American Mainline Denomination edited by Catherine M. Prelinger (New York & Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1992), 21-22.

[36] Jane Addams to Mary Rozet Smith, February 3, 1895, Swarthmore College Peace Collection, Jane Addams Papers, Series 1, in JAMC (reel 2-1647-1652), Special Collections, The University Library, The University of Illinois at Chicago.

[37] There were always critics, but Addams did not experience serious and sustained criticism until her pacifism during World War I. This was a difficult period for her personally but in an extraordinary demonstration of loyalty, Louise deKoven Bowen, a pro-war Progressive, stood by Addams and continued to fund the settlement as well as raise money from others, defending her friend and colleague at every turn. Louise deKoven Bowen, โ€œLetter About Hull House,โ€ in volume 2 of Speeches, Addresses, and Letters of Louise deKoven Bowen, ed. Mary Humphreys (Ann Arbor, Michigan: Edwards Brothers, 1937): 789-92.See Allen F. Davis, American Heroine: The Life and Legend of Jane Addams. (Chicago: Ivan Dees, 2000), pp. 251-281, for a discussion of the attacks on Addams.

[38] Adena Miller Rich is the exception that proves the pattern. As the immediate successor to Addams, this Hull-House resident who headed the Immigrantsโ€™ Protective League, an affiliated agency at the settlement that had a national reputation in the field, Rich reluctantly agreed to takeover after Addamsโ€™s death, but insisted that she be a part-time, unpaid head resident The Welfare Council of Chicago urged the trustees to find a full-time paid professional as this was becoming the trend in settlements. Charlotte Carr and Russell Ballard called themselves directors and received executive salaries. HHA Minutes of Special Meeting of Trustees, August 2, 1935; HHA Minutes, Jan 8, 1937, HHA Box 1, Folder 5; 

[39] For example, no one dared suggest that Professor Robert Morss Lovett, of the University of Chicago, and his wife, Ida, leave Hull-House, where they had resided for many years, when the American Legion accused him of disloyalty. Trolander, Settlement Houses and the Great Depression, 104-105.

[40] See Victoria Brownโ€™s article in Schneirov, Richard, Shelton Stromquist, and Nick Salvatore, editors. The Pullman Strike and the Crisis of the 1890s: Essays on Labor and Politics. (Chicago & Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1999.

[41] Residents of Hull-House, Hull-House Maps and PapersA Presentation of Nationalities and Wages in a Congested District of Chicago together with comments and essays on problems growing out of social conditions.(1895). See Addams essay on the function of the settlement and labor.

[42] See: Jane Addams, Democracy and Social Ethics (Urbana & Chicago: University of Illinois Press, 2002), especially her chapter โ€œIndustrial Amelioration.โ€

[43] Philip Davis, And Crown They Good (New York: Philosophical Library, 1952), 89-90.

[44] Ibid.

[45] Jane Addams, The Second Twenty Years at Hull-House (New York: The Macmillan Company, 1930), 394.

[46]

[47] David Loth, Swope of G.E. (New York: Simon and Schuster, 1958), 58-59.

[48] Ellis W. Hawley, โ€œSwope, Gerard,โ€ Dictionary of American Biography, John A. Garraty, editor (New York: Charles Scribnerโ€™s Sons, 1980), Supplement Six, 614.

[49] โ€œEmployes [sic]to Help Manage Business of Electric Co.โ€ Chicago Tribune, Feb. 17, 1923, pg. 16; โ€œFinancial Notes.โ€ Chicago Tribune, Aug. 5, 1923, pg. A10.

[50] Jane Addams, The Second Twenty Years, 389.

[51] Ibid., 390.

[52] Ibid.. 391.

[53] Ibid., 396.

[54] Ibid., 395.

[55] Gerard Swope to Jane Addams, December 10, 1930, Swarthmore College Peace Collection,  Jane Addams Papers, Series 1 in JAMC (reel 21-1443-1447), Special Collections, Richard J. Daley Library, The University of Illinois at Chicago.

[56] Hawley, โ€œSwope, Gerard,โ€ DAB, Supplement Six, 615.

[57] โ€œGerard Swope Backs Job Insurance Idea.โ€ New York Times, July 2, 1934, pg. 42; โ€œOpposes Insurance Bill. Gerard Swope Wants Employes [sic] to Aid in Job Compensation.โ€ New York Times, March 22, 1935, pg. 3.

[58] โ€œHour-Wage Minimums To Stay, Swope Says.โ€ New York Times, June 2, 1935, pg. 3.

[59] Clarke A. Chambers, Seedtime of Reform: American Social Service and Social Action, 1918-1933 (Ann Arbor, Michigan: University of Michigan Press, 1963); Ruth Hutchinson Crocker, Social Work and Social Order: The Settlement Movement in Two Industrial Cities, 1889-1930 (Urbana & Chicago: University of Illinois Press, 1992), 3; Robyn Muncy, Creating a Female Dominion in American Reform 1890-1935 (New York & Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1991), 152-153.

The Challenge of Community-Based Planning for Urban Renewal: The Case of Hull-House and the American Reform Tradition, 1930-1963,

After the death of its legendary co-founder Jane Addams in 1935, Hull-House trustees had to determine what role, if any, the old thirteen-building complex could play in the neighborhood that was being transformed by super highways, public housing, and the loss of population. They did so in the context of two historical movements: the migration of African Americans from the south to the urban North, that more than any other issue in the 1940s and 1950s challenged the deepest felt values and goals of the social settlement movement; and, the rising demand in local communities to democratize community organizations or agencies.

These two movements intersected in urban neighborhoods in the United States where the possibility of large-scale urban redevelopment threatened the status quo, especially the racial composition of communities. Hull-House, situated in such a neighborhood on Chicagoโ€™s Near West Side, decided to integrate and democratize its programs and staff, to remain in the neighborhood[1]; to support public housing; and to work with the neighborhood to develop a community-based plan for urban renewal.

The major tool to accomplish the goals of integration,  democratization, and community renewal, was an entity called the Near West Side Planning Board, an agency that was to be separately incorporated and independent of the settlement, but initially received staff and financial support. With this Planning Board, Hull-House hoped to create a process that would lead to vastly different outcomes from the typical model of urban renewal where land clearance and private development ignored the population being displaced. Instead, evoking the innovative spirit of the settlement movement as a vanguard of new social relationships in a democracy, Hull-House sponsored what it hoped would be an open and democratic process that could be used throughout the United States.  It was to include all elements of the community with the result that redevelopment would occur without displacement. The people of the neighborhood would be able to reap the rewards of the renewal rather than be forced out by rising real estate values and dispersed to other low-rent neighborhoods. This paper uses the case study of this community-based planning experiment to ask broader questions about community re-building in late twentieth-century and early twenty-first century American cities.

 Without spending too much time on background, it seems important to comment on how the Hull-House settlement actually functioned in the neighborhood. [2] In 1935, The Hull-House settlement had existed for forty-five years as a private, not-for-profit association governed by a board of seven trustees, including Jane Addams who called herself โ€œhead residentโ€ and did not take a salary. She was, until 1907, both the president and the treasurer of this board. The majority of the trustees had held their positions from the 1890sโ€”when the system was put into placeโ€”until Jane Addamsโ€™s death in 1935, or, if they preceded her, their own death. The trustees, during the Addamsโ€™s years, were women and men who overall can be described as wealthy civic-minded progressives who were responding to the evils of the industrial city. Addams, one of their class,[3] had established the settlement with her own funds and they backed her โ€œexperimentโ€ and accepted her leadership. Since Addams was a volunteer who invested her own money in the settlement, she fit a model of womanly benevolence not one of professionalism. The trustees were there to offer advice and counsel, not to supervise or to develop policy, unless asked directly. Addams, then, had a great deal of personal discretion and reigned almost completely unchallenged by the close-knit group of trustees.[4] In addition, Hull-House was not affiliated with a religious denomination or a university so had an enviable independent position. The meteoric rise to international prominence that Addams and the settlement achieved also gave her a protected status.[5] After her death, there were no head residents (now called directors) of equal stature or, obviously, whose relationship to the trustees had an equivalency.[6] This was very empowering for Addams and, I would argue, gave her the ability to speak out on many controversial stands without fear of reprisal, and to defend the rights of political dissidents worldwide. It allowed her to personally ally herself with unpopular causes and individuals, to establish radical organizations such as the Womenโ€™s International League for Peace and Freedom, and to maintain a large degree of freedom for the individual residents who came to live in the Hull-House complex. [7]

Hull-House was also a meeting place for unpopular groups from the neighborhood. Yet there was no thought that an individual who lived in the neighborhood and was active in the settlement should take a place on the board of trustees until 1943 when Alex Elson, who had grown up in the neighborhood and participated in Hull-House as a youngster, was selected by the board of trustees.[8]

The trustees had traditionally been among the settlementโ€™s major contributors: multi-millionaire heiress and leading civic reformer Louise Bowen, who continued to dominate the trustees until her death in 1953; Mary Rozet Smith, Janeโ€™s life partner and daughter of Smith Bragner, one of the countryโ€™s paper manufacturers ; Helen Culver, the heir of the Charles Hull real estate empire, and owner of the Hull homestead[9] and the property surrounding it; Mary Wilmarth[10], a feminist clubwoman and one of Hull-Houseโ€™s earliest supporters; Julius Rosenwald, who owned Sears Roebuck, Co., and was a leading philanthropist known for his support of education for African Americans in the South and his sponsorship of the NAACP; and Sewell Avery, president of the U.S. Gypsum Company and Chairman of the Board of Montgomery Ward & Company. Completing the list of trustees were the philosopher John Dewey, wealthy businessmen and art patrons Edward B. Butler and Charles L. Hutchinson, and Allen B. Pond, architect.

When old-timers died, they were replaced by other family members or individuals well-known to those on the board. Charles Hull Ewing โ€œreplacedโ€ his cousin, Helen Culver; Louise Bowen added her daughter Helen Bowen Blair in 1929 when the number of trustees increased from seven to nine.[11]

In the 1940s, when the number of actual trustee slots increased to 25, the categories of people who served expanded to include individuals who were prominent in the social welfare field as practitioners or professors, often who had been Hull-House residents in their younger years; less than a handful [four] of prominent African Americans [Robert R. Taylor, president of the Chicago Housing Authority; the Rev. Nathan A. Scott, professor of theology at the University of Chicago Divinity School; Dr. Lloyd A. Hall, chemist;  and journalist Era Bell Thompson] and a group of businessmen and their wives, primarily real estate developers, who held prominent roles in metropolitan Chicagoโ€™s planning circles (James C. Downs, Jr.; Anthony Downs; Ruth Camp, wife of J. Beidler Camp; Harry Goldstine; Mrs. Ferd Kramer); and prominent liberals including Adlai Stevenson and Marshall Field, III. 

The original โ€œresidentsโ€[12] of the settlement -โ€“young women and men-โ€”mainly affluent and well-educatedโ€”following the example set by Jane Addams, had included radicals, socialists, labor leaders and social reformers. The cross-class, cross-cultural relationships that were forged with the neighbors were intended to be cooperative rather than paternalistic, friendly rather than officious, and, at best, democratic in spirit.

Yet from the beginning, the neighborhood became a laboratory and the studies produced by the residents launched reform campaigns that would eventually transform the neighborhood, but for the first forty-five years or more, without neighborhood-led participation in the development of social policy. [13]

Under Charlotte Carrโ€™s administration, serious efforts were made to reverse this pattern and to democratize Hull-House within itself as well as in its relationships with the community. Of course, a large aspect of that effort was to change race relations within the settlement itself and in the neighborhood. Arriving in October 1937, Carr, who had been the executive director of the New York City emergency relief bureau, openly advocated New Deal-style cultural expression and workersโ€™ education, as well as civil rights.  Carrโ€™s approach to the race issue as administrator of emergency relief in New York had impressed Dorothy Height, the civil rights leader who had witnessed Carrโ€™s fairness toward blacks during the March 1935 riot in Harlem. The situation in March of 1935 was desperate for African Americans. While blacks were only 8 percent of New York Cityโ€™s population, they made up 42 percent of the unemployed on welfare. They were even denied positions on work projects set up by the welfare system and there was not a single person of color in a position of authority on the management staff of the Welfare Administration. Carr remedied the problem by appointing Height to be personnel supervisor in the central office of the Home Relief Bureau.[14]

 The African American community in Chicago anticipated her move to the city. Carrโ€™s network of labor and civil rights leaders and her friendships with these leaders were comparable to the kinds of inter-racial networks Jane Addams had formed at the high point of her influence, the difference being, of course, that Addams was a charismatic leader and that Carr never achieved that kind of recognition or influence. Jane Addams by 1912 had forged relationships with the black leadership and Hull-House was one of those places in a segregated world where African American women and men felt welcome. Addams co-existed with the contradictions that were part and parcel of Jim Crowism, was one of the founding members of the NAACP, but was unable to integrate Hull-House. Instead the work done by Hull-House among blacks, who by 1925 had settled in significant, although small numbers, south of the settlement[15], was carried out through the medium of the Hull-House Community Club, an organization of women affiliated with the State and National Federation of Colored Womanโ€™s Clubs.[16] The Hull-House Community Clubโ€™s members remained a separate [and segregated] club in the settlement house from the late 1920s thru the early 1950s.[17] Their children were kept separate rather than encouraged to join in the myriad of clubs and activities available for White children. The persistence of ethnically separate activities at Hull-House in the 1930s and 1940s points to deeper and more complex cultural and racial issues.[18]

One of Carrโ€™s first moves to integrate was to invite the first African American to Hull-House as a resident. She sought out Chicago Defender journalist Dewey E. Jones and his family, got a Rosenwald Fund stipend to cover his salary, and announced that Jones was going to investigate the conditions of African Americans in the neighborhood of Hull-House. Jones, who had been an advisor to Harold Ickes in Washington, D.C.,[19] was a good choice as the first African American resident at the House. Jones, his wife, Faith Jefferson Jones, a social worker; and their toddler, Dewey E. Jones, Jr., moved into the settlement in 1938.  Jonesโ€™s sudden death in April 1939, ended his work at Hull-House.[20]

Carr combined her efforts to integrate with community organization initiatives. Carr established a community relations department in 1939. Under the sponsorship of this department, two small neighborhood centers were started and operated by parents and a staff of neighborhood leaders who were made available by the Works Project Administration. One center was in the African American district south of the settlement and filled a need that had long been recognized by the Hull-House Community Club. As mentioned above, the Community Club had met since the 1920s, but had not been incorporated into the settlement life. Carr reversed this by empowering the African American women who were club members to run this new center located in their own neighborhood, with WPA and Hull-House funds. The women also reached out to African American businessmen who helped with funding. Activities within the center included a morning pre-school play group, afternoon game periods for school children, weekly dances and English classes for adults, with WPA leadership supervised by the Recreation staff of Hull-House. A motherโ€™s club had been organized and was sponsored by members of the Hull-House Community Club. Carr felt that this center represented an activity where neighborhood leaders were making plans for themselves and carrying them out, with minimum guidance from Hull-House.[21]

Carrโ€™s tenure with Hull-House ended in December 1942, after only five years, and, according to Carr, she had been fired.[22] There were charges of budget extravagance under Carrโ€™s administration, but the record indicates that there was no budget crisis.[23] Bowen was offended by Carrโ€™s politics, did not articulate what I believe was Carrโ€™s real sin: successful efforts at organization and empowerment of the neighborhood. This would have been threatening in itself, but Carr believed that the neighborhood people must participate fully in the affairs of the settlement. She saw Hull-House as the communityโ€™s organization.  Her boldness in this direction, political columnist Sydney J. Harris argued, โ€œoften antagonized some board members, as did her insistence upon entering political controversies when she felt the welfare of โ€˜the little people was at stakeโ€™โ€[24] since she believed that she, as director of Hull-House, represented the little people against the special interests.

While many people who agreed with her approach liked to say she was carrying out the legacy of Jane Addams, Carr was attempting something very different from the kind of social relations Addams established with the neighborhood. Commenting on the departure of Carr, a member of the West Side Community Committee [different from the West Side Community Organization], who had spent his life in the neighborhood, said the fundamental issue was โ€œwho shall formulate the policies of Hull House? Does Hull House belong to the people it serves, or to the trustees? Shall it be an โ€˜agencyโ€™ superimposed from above; or shall it be an instrument of the people themselves? Only by involving the people significantly in the management of Hull House can it ever become a real part of the attitudes, sentiments and thinking of the people.โ€ [25] 

Other social settlements faced the same challenges in the 1930s and 1940s, but few actively pursued a policy of integration or of democratization. Newer kinds of community organizations, like Anthony Sorrentinoโ€™s West Side Community Organization, developed out of University of Chicago sociologist Clifford Shawโ€™s Chicago Area Project, emerged to challenge the hegemony of established settlements like Hull-House. The West Side Community Organization was a group predominantly of neighborhood people of Italian background that emerged in the late 1930s as an alternative to the โ€œtraditionalโ€ top-down social agency approach. What is interesting about Hull-House settlement in this period is how the directors, staff, and residents attempted to move away from the top-down model while still retaining controls that resembled the top down model of a social agency.

One of the Hull-House residents who advocated for community organization was Eri Baker Hulbert, III, the grandnephew of Jane Addams.  From 1937-1940, he was counselor and head of tenant selection for Jane Addams Homes for the Chicago Housing Authority. The Homes were located in the Near West Side neighborhood less than a half mile west of the settlement complex.

It was Eri Hulbert who was given the task in 1947 of working with the other community organizations in the neighborhood. The major one was Sorrentinoโ€™s West Side Community Organization, mentioned above. This organization, rather than a club that came out of Hull-House, initiated discussions with the settlement about ways to cooperate in a community planning effort. While the West Side Community Organization clearly satisfied the agenda of democratization and had well-developed neighborhood leadership that would become significant for the effort to employ community-based planning for urban renewal when the Near West Side was challenged by large-scale land clearance plans, the organization also promoted a narrow vision of what constituted the neighborhood and ultimately made inter-racial cooperation, in response to the migration of African Americans from the South untenable.

The years of the experiment with community-based planning occurred during the directorship of Russell W. Ballard. With Carr gone, and with her the majority of the residents and staff who sided with her, also departed[26], Hull-House returned to its former traditions, with minor revisions.[27] The trustees regrouped, appointed an interim director, and carefully sought out the next permanent director.[28] The board ignored the communityโ€™s demands to have input in the selection of the next Hull-House director.[29] The 25-member trustee board had become more of a policy-generating group; there was much more bureaucracy and officers of the โ€œcorporationโ€ now included a president, three vice-presidents, a secretary, a treasurer, and an assistant treasurer. The director was more formally scrutinized by the board and was increasingly treated as a paid employee in the corporate model. Louise Bowen was president and treasurer.[30] 

Russell Ballard, a civil rights advocate who easily fit the Hull-House boardโ€™s qualification that the director of Hull-House โ€œdefend the rights of all racial, religious and economically disadvantaged groups as Hull-House has done in the past,โ€[31] succeeded Carr and continued to push for improved race relations in the neighborhood and for greater progress in the integration of the settlement and its programs. His ability to speak out, however, and to initiate programs was hampered by the boardโ€™s committee system. The conservative tendencies of the board were strengthened in the cold war anti-communism and red-baiting that accelerated in the post-World War II decades. These trends were apparent during Charlotte Carrโ€™s administration and she, like many pragmatic Left-leaning New Dealers attempted to distance herself from Communist-front groups and the Communist Party.[32]

Additionally, Ballard functioned in an atmosphere of increased racial tension in the United States. For Chicagoans and others in urban centers in the North, the Detroit race riot of 1943 was a frightening example of what might happen locally. Chicagoโ€™s Mayor Edward Kelley appointed a Mayorโ€™s Committee on Race Relations [later the Chicago Commission on Human Relations] immediately after the events in Detroit. Ballard and his assistant director, Elaine Switzer, were active in the expanded work on race relations undertaken by the Council of Social Agencies of Chicago.[33]  It was, however, in the day-to-day activities that Ballard, Switzer, and Robert Mulligan were immediately responsible that the work of race relations found its practical expression. โ€œBecause people attend a settlement house voluntarily, working with any group in an interracial setting calls for statesmanship of the highest order,โ€ Ballard wrote.[34] Ballard and his staff had to combat the withdrawal of Whites from programs as the neighborhood became increasingly influenced by the rumor that โ€œHull-House was โ€˜being ruined by the Mexicans and Negroes.โ€™โ€[35]

One of the Hull-House staff, Arthur Ferrell, had been stabbed when he was escorting a group of African American boys to their homes after a Hull-House activity. Occurring in 1952, it was the first incident of an attack on a member of the Hull-House staff.  Hull-House trustee Robert R. Taylor, an African American who was president of the Chicago Housing Authority board, encouraged Ballard to deal with the incident through the Mayorโ€™s Commission on Human Relations since the commission โ€œhad stepped in quietly in other areas at early signs of tension and had been able to help the local agencies work out constructive programs which appeared to allay unrest and lessen the tensions.โ€  The trustees also urged Ballard to press the police for a thorough investigation.[36]

Two years later, after more than fifty years of ethnic and race segregation, a new formula was tried out with the teams in the gymnasium. Each team was made up of boys from all racial groups in an effort to secure integration of all groups in the neighborhood.  Later reports indicated the progress was slow.[37] Out of frustration with the slow pace of interracial progress, Russell Ballard suggested that Hull-House begin to follow the lead of other settlement houses and extend their work directly into public housing projects where the need for service was so great.[38]

Eri Hulbert was well aware of the racial tensions in the Near West Side long before he agreed to take the staff position of executive director of the Near West Side Planning Board. The Italians did not want the African American community that was south of Roosevelt Road, a major racial boundary, to move into the area they saw as their own turf. The public housing projects were a potential source of racial change in the neighborhood, so while affordable public housing was a reasonable alternative for the blighted housing on the Near West Side, it was an unacceptable solution for the Whites that lived in the neighborhood and were the potential participants in community-based planning.  Attempting to bring together individuals from all sections and elements of the Near West Side community so that a planning board could begin with solid commitment behind it, his past involvement with the Jane Addams Homes in the neighborhood, and Hull-Houseโ€™s advocacy of public housing, worked against him. Father Barton, parish priest at Holy Family Church, a key institution in the neighborhood, disseminated blatantly hostile stories in his parish newsletter indicting Hulbert and Hull-House for their Left-wing politics and their advocacy of more public housing in the neighborhood. (Barton called it socialized housing.) In 1938 Barton had stopped the CHA from extending the Jane Addams Homes, an effort that Hulbert, as service director of the Homes, and Hull-House, as a willing intermediary for the CHA in the neighborhood, had favored.[39]

Hulbert produced a brochure to introduce the community planning board idea to the neighborhood. It indicates his grasp of the problems involved with creating an organization from scratch; of offering new and relatively technical information to people from all educational backgrounds and viewpoints; of the inherent structural problems of dealing with the new local, federal, and state bureaucracies pertaining to planning; and of the difficult distinction between creating a vehicle for the community to talk out and reconcile its differences over planning, constructing the planning board itself;, and finally, presenting a plan that would be implemented by other private and public partnerships. It was a very big meal for the community to digest.

The brochure tantalizingly explained that the private investors who could receive land from the Land Clearance Commission might be a neighborhood redevelopment corporation, an insurance company, or any individual, association or corporation set up legally to invest in housing in Illinois, including cooperatives and veteransโ€™ groups. In essence, it could be the community itself. The brochure enumerated the funds available for redevelopment from state, federal, and city sources, and concluded: โ€œThese laws and this money plus private capital can result in new homes, more parks and schools, better business and industrial facilities on the Near West Side. They offer a unique opportunity for the pioneering of a new frontier in city building.โ€[40]

In the next seven years, Hulbert and a core group that functioned as an executive committee did a monumental job of getting the concept of community-based planning on the table. Hulbert was able to gain the attention of the public agencies involved in the urban renewal process and while there were no agreements written in stone, all along the way the Near West Side Planning Board felt that it had general approval of its overall direction. [41]  This was an overly optimistic view.[42]

The process of interacting with the agencies was difficult for large-scale developers and, for a semi-professional group, as the Near West Side Planning Board was, having only limited support from local foundations, and a modest allocation annually from the Hull-House Association, the task was formidable.[43] In truth, the Planning Board had put off dealing with the really complicated problem of private capital once a plan was put in place. What made that an even more serious concern was the fact that in reality approval for a plan from the public agencies was based in large part on whether or not it was deemed realistic that the proposed project could be financed. The inability of the Planning Board to collect significant funds from the businesses in the redevelopment area was a sign of its weakness.[44]    

Perhaps the most disconcerting outcome in 1950 of the two years of organizing and after โ€œ75 meetings, which had been attended by 248 different people and by a total of 778, exclusive of innumerable small conferences, exclusive of hours of volunteer time  . . . exclusive of meetings called by other agencies in which the Planning Board participated and exclusive of a few Planning Board meetings of which accurate record was not made,โ€[45] was the realization that most people in the neighborhood were not interested in planning beyond their own block, or even their own piece of property.

The persistence of racism was undoubtedly the central problem in any kind of community planning in an area like the Near West Side. Hulbert and the core group[46] of Hull-House affiliated Planning Board members had to start the planning process in the place in which they found the community. While it was possible to include one or two African Americans, the other major interest group was the Italians. The reality was that the push from the Italian-dominated West Side Community Organization, and the churches in the neighborhood, was to focus on the much smaller area whose population was overwhelmingly Italian.[47]

Eri Hulbert was caught in a dilemma. He wanted to expand the horizons of the neighborhood and educate the people about the opportunities of planning, but he first had to gain their trust. The neighborhood felt that large-scale clearance was about to happen. So much of the neighborhood had become vacant already that this was not an unreasonable worry. Stimulated by this anxiety, a survey of property owners in the area was made with the help of a staff of local people hired and trained for the purpose. The information was to be mapped.

For the first time in two years, Eri Hulbert was energized and although he had pointed out the lack of money, lack of membership, and lack of action, and the persistence of racial tensions, he saw accomplishments: they were organizing the Planning Board itself; they had gotten industry, business, agencies and residents started in working together. Possibly the most important single concrete fact was the changed policy of the Central National Bank toward loans for home repair and home rebuilding.[48] Suddenly, in the face of the threat of losing the neighborhood, there was energy and hope for rehabilitation block by bloc, for conservation in selected blocks, for redevelopment.

Of course, this was putting the cart before the horse. There was no overall plan. How could any homeowner or business owner rely on the information from the various agencies when the City Council had not voted on a comprehensive plan for the city and the metropolitan area?[49]

To meet the insecurity that lurked underneath the frenzied activity to get maps readied and to showcase selected blocks where rehabilitation/conservation had been accomplished, the alderman of the ward introduced an ordinance into the City Council, the Pistilli Ordinance, bearing his name. The ordinance transformed the area bounded by Harrison Street, Halsted Street, Roosevelt Road, and Ashland Avenue from its blighted designation to be reclassified with certain exceptions as a proper area for rehabilitation of existing structures. [This eventually became the site of the Chicago branch of the University of Illinois.] The exceptions were the several blocks within the area where the structures were in such condition that it was economically unsound to undertake rehabilitation.[50]  Hulbert and others on the Near West Side Planning Board had questions about how the Pistilli Ordinance would be implemented and worried about residents of the neighborhood investing in rehabilitation without real guarantees.[51]

More profoundly, the Hull-House trustees and their core supporters on the Near West Side Planning Board believed the motivation for the Pistilli Ordinance was anti-democratic. It was a way to keep out private projects that might allow interracial housing or even African American families to live in public housing along with White families. Ironically, Eri Hulbert found himself engaged in a โ€œdemocraticโ€ process in the development of the community-based planning board that was, in the final analysis badly flawed.

The Hull-House trustees were reluctant to sponsor or advocate measures that allowed for a kind of local option to impede the civil rights of minorities. [52] This tension between the will of the local people and the values of open housing and anti-discrimination as a non-negotiable part of public policy in the rebuilding of American cities has been the subject of many works in the field of urban history and urban studies. 

By 1953-54, the Hull-House trustees were far less enamored with the possibilities of the Near West Planning Board. Rather than abandon their commitment to community planning, they sought for other ways to cultivate it. After years of involvement with the community, the trustees and staff of Hull-House returned to the drawing board and put together a citizen participation grant that was funded by the Schwarzhaupt Foundation; initially the grant was to be administered through the Near West Side Planning Board but, with the sudden and unexpected death of Eri Hulbert[53], the trusteesโ€™ discomfort with elements of the Near West Side Planning Board came to a head. Not being able to find among the Planning Board leadership anyone to replace Hulbert (who the trustees trusted and believed in) they moved to sidestep the group. A reorganized structure for the implementation of money from Schwarzhaupt for the development of citizen participation was accomplished and the Near West Side Planning Board officially severed its relationship with the Hull-House settlement in 1956. The new entity, the Citizen Participation Project, controlled entirely by the Hull-House Association, began anew; after hiring a professional community organizer, a series of community meetings to promote citizen participation were inaugurated![54]  Hull-Houseโ€™s commitment to community-based planning was to go on, but this time in a more controlled and focused approach.

These developments paralleled the change of direction for the neighborhood that was coming from the outside. In 1954, William Deknatel reported that James W. Follin, U.S. director of slum clearance and urban redevelopment, had been in Chicago during the past week talking with the Near West Side Planning Board, the Chicago Plan Commission and the Chicago Land Clearance Commission. It looked as if a firm commitment would result for the Hull House area to be one of two pilot urban renewal projects in the area when the housing bill now in Congress passed. Deknatel further reported that Mr. Follin was fairly sanguine about the prospects of the billโ€™s passage.โ€[55]

In 1956 the Harrison-Halsted area, the 55.5 acre tract of land that became in 1963 the campus of the University of Illinois at Chicago, was designated an urban renewal area. Reversing the agreements made locally through the City Council [Pistilli Ordinance] regarding the possibility of conservation and rehabilitation, the Chicago Land Clearance Commission now said that the project area was a slum and blighted area and eligible for redevelopment. [56]

Between 1957 and 1961, when it was first learned that the Harrison-Halsted area was being considered as the Chicago campus of the University of Illinois, several initiatives for redevelopment were on the table. The site conservation report for Harrison-Halsted could be read two ways: from the point of view of big-picture urban planning, the finding that โ€œmost of the structures in the project area and the living units contained in the structures have deteriorated to a degree where rehabilitation or conservation would not be an economic procedureโ€[57] opened up all kinds of possibilities; from the viewpoint of the local residents who had been the most ardent supporters and participants in the Near West Side Planning Board, and who had been working under the assumption that many of them could rehabilitate their own homes and remain in the neighborhood, it was the beginning of a series of betrayals. There were also property owners in the neighborhood who saw a chance for financial gains as they contemplated the rise in property values that were outside of, but close to the area designated for large-scale redevelopment. But this was possible only if public housing was kept out.

Ultimately, the Hull-House trustees who were increasingly representative of a real-estate industry-led redevelopment of post-World War II metropolitan Chicago (reflecting the Richard J. Daley plan for urban rebirth) found that the role for Hull-House was to help federal, state, and municipal authorities demolish the neighborhood[58] that had been the focus and the context of the settlement experience between 1889 and 1959. James C. Downs, Jr., who served as president of the Hull-House Association in 1959,1960, and 1961, the crucial years in which the fate of the neighborhood was decided, was a downtown realtor who had also made a name for himself as the head of Real Estate Research Corporation, the firm that had done the original site studies for the proposed Chicago-area campus of the University of Illinois. He began his association with Hull-House sometime in the mid-1950s. He had become one of Mayor Richard J. Daleyโ€™s closest advisors.ย The other trustees in 1957-1960 included: the wives of realtors Jay Beidler Camp and Ferd Kramer. (Kramer, who was involved in some capacity in almost every major redevelopment project in Chicago, served as president of the Metropolitan Housing and Planning Commission and in 1941 with Holman Pettibone, and Newton Farr, helped guide Chicagoโ€™s early renewal efforts. Kramer managed Lake Meadows, a project funded by New York Life, and developed Prairie Shores.) By the end of the 1950s, the Hull-House Trustees were reinventing the settlement by contemplating its removal from its historic site and its transformation into a social agency that served multiple constituencies in locations throughout the metropolitan area. The vision of settling as a bridge-building act undertaken to create cross-class and cross-ethnic and racial harmony and understanding had fallen away, replaced by strategies of delivering services in decentralized settings.

Deknatel, an architect whose widowed father, businessman Frederick Deknatel had become a resident of Hull-House in the 1900s, represented the ambivalent relationship the settlement had for a long time with the neighborhood. Deknatel played an increasingly significant role as a trustee and, finally, as president of the board of trustees of the Hull-House Association. He was intimately involved with the creation of the Temporary Organizing Committee, which became the Near West Side Planning Board. Deknatel was refreshingly transparent in a speech he made to the Hull-House trustees in 1947, as he explained the role that Hull-House would play:

With the beginning of planning there will be a series of battles. There will be inevitably serious disagreements about planning matters, both small and large. . . it will be you at Hull house who will be most capable of arbitrating these differences, because Hull House is the most disinterested agency in this community. It is the most disinterested because if our effort succeeds largely, it will put Hull House out of business, and I think that we can sincerely say that that would be a perfect conclusion to our efforts.[59]

This โ€œdisinterestednessโ€ from the neighborhood was inherent from the beginning. From public baths to reformation of the juvenile court system, progressive reformers with deep roots in neighborhood settlements like Hull-House began the process of urban renewal in American cities in the 1890s when they first moved into neighborhoods like the Near West Side. One of the first playgrounds in Chicago was opened under the auspices of the Hull House settlement; it was โ€œbuiltโ€ across the street from the settlement in a space created by the demolition of several slum flats owned by William Kent, a second-generation Chicago entrepreneur whose property holdings included badly maintained buildings in the slums. There is no record where the families moved who had lived in the hovels owned by Kent.[60] The expansion of the Hull-House settlement was an eighteen-year project in which slum buildings were demolished and replaced by the twelve additional structures that together made up the settlement complex. In creating this new neighborhood space that served educational, cultural, and recreational needs for thousands of families, the settlement added positive value to the district. It did not, however, add housing for the neighbors.[61] Nowhere in the process of โ€œslum clearanceโ€ and replacement with new buildings that had new functions, did the settlement consult with neighbors.

Deknatel also indicated that Hull-House was not wedded to fighting for a plan that the neighborhood people endorsed but was deemed unacceptable by planning experts, or did not fit with a better, more comprehensive and metropolitan plan. When the possibility of rebuilding the neighborhood by eliminating it and establishing the Chicago branch of the University of Illinois in its place, Deknatel and others on the board of trustees of the settlement could argue that this was an acceptable outcome of urban renewal as the university plan had merit in a larger conceptualization of metropolitan planning and, furthermore, in its โ€œdisinterestedness,โ€ the trustees could envision Hull-House Association providing services somewhere else. It was not tied to the neighborhood.

Two points should be made here. The first is that the Near West Side Planning Board, while unsuccessful ultimately, had positive outcomes as well. The Planning Board continued its work after 1955 because the heirs of Eri Hulbert had โ€œboughtโ€ the concept of community-based planning. A number of the neighborhood leaders who had cut their teeth on the Planning Boardโ€™s activities, were in place to participate in other councils and commissions where places for community representation needed to be filled. The Planning Board continued to include individuals who were Hull-House residents and/or lifelong participants in the settlement. Ernest Giovangelo, his sister Florence Giovangelo Scala, and Jessie Binford were examples of the social citizenship and new social relations Jane Addams had hoped would evolve from the disinterested, neighborly and open-ended role of the settlement. Inspired by the reform spirit associated with Hull-House, Binford came to the settlement as a resident in 1902, from Marshalltown, Iowa. She became involved with the workings of the new system of juvenile justice and movement of prevention of juvenile delinquency and, in her capacity as head of the Juvenile Protective League (a Hull-House affiliate located in the settlement), she became an adviser and advocate for neighborhood families. Troubled by the professionalization of child welfare during the 1940s and the eclipse of the community work approach, Binford retired in 1952 but remained a resident of Hull-House.

In 1961, Binford joined Florence Scala to co-chair the Harrison-Halsted Community group in opposition to the clearance of the neighborhood for the construction of the Chicago branch of the University of Illinois. Binford wanted people to know that it wasnโ€™t the Hull-House settlement that she was trying to save, but the neighborhood itself. [62]

The Giovangelos had grown up in the neighborhood with close ties to Hull-House, even though they also belonged to the Roman Catholic parish. Florence had a talent for acting and made close relationships with Hull-House residents who ran the theater arts department. It was with the Planning Board, however, that Scala fully realized her individual potential and began to understand the potential of democratic participation in social change. โ€œTo me,โ€ she explained, [Hulbert] was a teacher and a persistent pioneer in this new idea that the people themselves must participate in the planning of their own communities.[63]

Florenceโ€™s brother, Ernest, became a community organizer and participated closely with Hulbert. Some considered Ernie the obvious choice as the new director of the Planning Board after the unexpected death of Hulbert. There were clear biases against Ernie from the settlement side, where it became clear that fear of loss of control of the Planning Board, with the appointment of a real community leader as the executive director, outweighed faith in community-based planning.[64]

Teaching that โ€œthe people themselves must participate in the planning of their own communitiesโ€ was dangerous; by bolstering up the self-confidence of local leaders and supporting the neighborhoodโ€™s aspirations, Hull-House created a dilemma of major proportions. And this brings us to the second important point about the post-1955 planning process. Among the trustees of the settlement there was a split over what position to take when concrete proposals began to surface for the Harrison-Halsted site.

When they first heard that the neighborhood was considered as a site for the university, many trustees were shocked and greatly disturbed by the lack of a democratic process in making this proposal. This proposal came from left field; there had been numerous sites for the Chicago branch of the university proposed, vetted, and rejected, and there was still the possibility of a site near the central downtown that required the reorganization of railroad terminals. It had been touted as the best site. The sudden introduction of Harrison-Halsted was shocking since the Cityโ€™s department of urban renewal, the Chicago Plan Commission, the Chicago Land Clearance Commission, and the Chicago Housing Authority had all had innumerable conversations with the community councils, including the Near West Side Planning Board, that envisioned some kind of project for Harrison-Halsted that combined clearance of slums, rehabilitation and conservation of viable structures, and a staged re-location and then return of displaced neighborhood people into residences they could afford.

Even the Hull-House trustees like James C. Downs, Jr., who were โ€œinsidersโ€ in the urban renewal/planning circles of the City, had participated, seemingly in good faith, with the community.[65] As late as January 1960, Downs and the trustees were involved in developing a plan for a new cooperative housing development in the cleared land near Hull-House.[66] There had never been any talk about the possibility of the site as a campus for the Chicago branch of the University of Illinois.

All of this involvement with the community was interrupted when in April of 1960, leaks in local newspapers revealed plans to use the Harrison-Halsted site for a university campus. Confidential meetings were held in Downsโ€™s downtown office with trustees from the settlement. [67] Between April and October of 1960, while James C. Downs, Jr., held the position of president of the Hull-House board of trustees and was a senior advisor to Mayor Richard J. Daley on urban renewal projects and clearly a participant in the inner circles of power surrounding the mayor, Hull-House trustees brooded and debated what position they should take regarding the proposal to build the University of Illinois campus on the Harrison-Halsted site and thereby destroy the residential community with whom the settlement had been engaged in active planning for improvements for more than a decade. Downs, who stepped down from the presidency at the crucial moment of the public announcement of the plan to build the university in the neighborhood, remained an active trustee, as did his son, Anthony.[68] Downs and his son, pushed for the board to remain neutral during the crucial months of negotiations between the City and the University of Illinois over the final resolution of site selection.[69]

In February 1961, pressure from trustees and staff to oppose the University of Illinois campus plan had gathered, as had the opposition from the neighborhood to both the plan and to the lack of leadership from Hull-House. A special committee was appointed from the board; it deliberated and came back with a resolution to oppose the university plan that ended with this statement:

For decades Hull House has been standing for democratic processes and has been endeavoring to teach them to the thousands of new Americans who have passed through its doors. In the tradition of Jane Addams, Hull house cannot stand by while a project is undertaken which, however worthy in itself, completely ignores these processes, and must oppose governmental actions which fail to consider the rights of the people affected.[70]

This resolution never got out of the boardroom; divided, the trustees negotiated their internal differences by continuing a public position of neutrality.[71] Hull-House resident Robert Mulliganย despaired at the refusal of the Board to release the statement. He stated to the board that the people feel that part of the โ€˜greater goodโ€™ of the City of Chicago is good democratic government. They say they are not cattle or colonials, but people, and should be treated that way.โ€[72]

This board stance of taking no position on the proposed Chicago campus of the university was understood by the community as a betrayal of neighborhood interests and of the hard work of community-based planning that they had engaged in because, in part, they trusted Hull-House.  The Hull-House staff, who continued to have close ties with the neighbors (and in many cases sided with the community against the trusteesโ€™ neutrality) considered the board, in the best reading of it, indecisive, and in the worst, betrayers and hypocrites.[73]

The settlement had been instrumental in organizing the neighborhood to accept the concept of planning; it had been the agent of change, of modernization, and ironically, the agent of an urban renewal project that destroyed rather than rebuilt the neighborhood. It was not that the neighbors had resisted change; they had played by the rules, worked with City officials and urban renewal agencies. Hull-House, from this point of view, was demonstrating that democracy did not work. On the other hand, the plans that were acceptable to the neighborhood leaders of the Harrison-Halsted area, did not work if your goal was to provide affordable and decent housing for the people who lived just a few blocks south across the race boundary of Roosevelt Road.

This leads to a consideration of whether or not community-based planning is an effective means for solving the problems of urban neighborhoods. The question of the unit of planning is very important. For Anthony Downs and his father, James C., and for William Deknatel and many others on the board of trustees of Hull-House, the neighborhood was not the defining unit. The well-being or common good of the metropolitan area, the more realistic measure for modern planners, required a broader universe of people, institutions, and resources than that which could be addressed in a neighborhood of a city. Were these men the villains of the tale? Initially in my research I found the juxtaposition of the real estate interests on the board of trustees and the self-consciously integrationist positions of Russell Ballard to be inexplicable. Why didnโ€™t they fire him? What was going on? After unearthing the names of key civil rights leaders who were resident or trustee at Hull-House in the late 1930s thru 1950s, at the same time that James C. Downs Jr., and other real estate redevelopment/urban renewal promoters also served on the board, it hit me that this was, in fact, one of the โ€œaccomplishmentsโ€ of cold war liberalism as practiced by Ballard and the trustees at Hull-House. They were more on the same page than one might think. The essence of this liberal coalition was its accommodation to the private market; the integrationists like Ballard had nowhere to go but in the direction of men like Downs and Ferd Kramer of the Metropolitan Housing and Planning Commission. He and his wife, who served as a Hull-House trustee, were a new breed of liberals willing to work for managed integration and who advocated private market solutions like Lake Meadows and Prairie Shores in Chicago to reconfigure what had been blighted communities. They did not solve the public housing dilemma, but they created the market for middle-class professionals of both races to have greater choices in the post-World War II housing market. These liberals, who would be awarded human relations commendations from the Mayorโ€™s Commission on Human Rights do not look very much like civil rights leaders to me; yet the other side of the private market, the real estate block-busters and red-lining mortgage agents, were betting on racism to win out.

At Hull-House the race relations specialists, the reformers and idealists, and the liberals who believed in an interracial society inhabited public space in an often polarized, violent urban landscape. Those individuals, idealists like Russell Ballard and Eri Hulbert, who gave their energies to creating vehicles for the development of community leaders and who placed their hopes on the democratic process had to question what went wrong in the Hull-House neighborhood that produced racism rather than tolerance and cloaked this racism in community-based planning processes. This is not to say that all of the participants in the Near West Side Planning Board were opposed to breaking down the color line. That would be a gross overstatement. Yet in the overly narrow focus on a block- by- block approach to conservation and rehabilitation, they selected a small subsection of the Near West Side as their universe. They were aided by federal and state legislation that had built-in local control at crucial stages of redevelopment to satisfy the political forces who fought to keep the racial status-quo. And here again the Hull-House case is instructive. As a settlement house that had a long history of opening its doors to all, it had dealt with the race and ethnic conflicts in the neighborhood by not forcing integration; clubs were self-perpetuating โ€œblocksโ€ in the neighborhood, first because of barriers of languages, but then by the persistent weight of old fashioned prejudices. To counter this, Hull-House had a great variety of programs and activities where there was a mix of the smaller homogeneous groups.

These opportunities for cross-race, cross-ethnic interactions led to friendships and a greater understanding of the importance of respect for all people. Certainly, these experiences made it possible for the neighborhood to value itself and seek a plan to remain a community rather than leave for suburbia. But it also made it possible for old identities to be valorized and for community-based planning to be hampered by the legacy of racism. This paper could only begin to explore the possibilities and limits of community-based planning in an urban neighborhood that encapsulated in its space almost all the fault lines and tensions of American society.  It is a cautionary tale to consider when we assume that โ€œpower to the peopleโ€ can lead to better planning processes than those framed by technocrats and professional planners.


[1] The trustees demonstrated ambivalence on this issue. On the one hand, although there had been discussions at different times from the 1930s regarding the future of the settlement house, the records of the Hull-House Association make it clear that investment in the old buildings and efforts to develop new programs and to adapt to the changing demography of the area continued unabated until the decision to clear 55 acres of land, including the land in which the thirteen Hull-House buildings stood to make way for construction of the Chicago branch of the University of Illinois, had been made by the University and the City of Chicago. On the other hand, influential board leaders like William Deknatel and James C. Downs, Jr., did not identify Hull-House with the neighborhood.

[2] We need to separate the settlement from its founder, the legendary American heroine, Jane Addams, who is depicted as the quintessential social philosopher of democracy by many recent scholars. Jean Bethke Elshtain, Jane Addams And the Dream of American Democracy. Basic Books, 2002; Charlene Haddock Seigfried. Pragmatism and Feminism: Reweaving the Social Fabric. The University of Chicago Press, 1996; Louise W. Knight, Citizen: Jane Addams and the Struggle for Democracy (Chicago & London: University of Chicago Press, 2005).

[3] Addams, the daughter of an Illinois State Senator and businessman who died in 1881, inherited a portion of his estate and was able to restore the old Hull homeโ€™s interior and contribute to the settlement budget, albeit with contributions from others, until about 1895. Addams was clearly a privileged woman who did not need to work; she was not, however, rich, as attested to the small amount of property and outright cash she had at the time of her death.                                                 

[4] The one exception to this is the relationship she had with Helen Culver; the incorporation of Hull-House in 1895 was a condition imposed by Culver before she would make a permanent relationship with Addams who, from 1889, had leased the house and had negotiated for each new lot for the expansion of the complex. Allen B. Pond to Helen Culver, April 18, 1906. JAMC Reel 4-1331, Spec. Coll., Daley Library, UIC.  See also: Jane Addams Memorial Collection correspondence, 1889, reel 2.  Letters to landlord Helen Culver from Jane Addams in March 1890.  Through the early years Addams struggles to get Culver to donate rent and eventually more buildings, finally convincing her after several years to offer some of the lots on the block for sale.  See especially letter from Jane Addams to โ€œDearestโ€ (Mary Rozet Smith) March 23, 1898, JAMC reel 2.

[5] There were always critics, but Addams did not experience serious and sustained criticism until her pacifism during World War I. This was a difficult period for her personally but in an extraordinary demonstration of loyalty, Louise deKoven Bowen, a pro-war Progressive, stood by Addams and continued to fund the settlement as well as raise money from others, defending her friend and colleague at every turn. Louise deKoven Bowen, โ€œLetter About Hull House,โ€ in volume 2 of Speeches, Addresses, and Letters of Louise deKoven Bowen, ed. Mary Humphreys (Ann Arbor, Michigan: Edwards Brothers, 1937): 789-92.See Allen F. Davis, American Heroine: The Life and Legend of Jane Addams. (Chicago: Ivan Dees, 2000), pp. 251-281, for a discussion of the attacks on Addams.

[6] Adena Miller Rich is the exception that proves the pattern. As the immediate successor to Addams, this Hull-House resident who headed the Immigrantsโ€™ Protective League, an affiliated agency at the settlement that had a national reputation in the field, Rich reluctantly agreed to takeover after Addamsโ€™s death, but insisted that she be a part-time, unpaid head resident The Welfare Council of Chicago urged the trustees to find a full-time paid professional as this was becoming the trend in settlements. Charlotte Carr and Russell Ballard called themselves directors and received executive salaries. HHA Minutes of Special Meeting of Trustees, August 2, 1935; HHA Minutes, Jan 8, 1937, HHA Box 1, Folder 5; 

[7] For example, no one dared suggest that Professor Robert Morss Lovett, of the University of Chicago,t and his wife, Ida, leave Hull-House, where they had resided for many years, when the American Legion accused him of disloyalty. Trolander, Settlement Houses and the Great Depression, 104-105.

[8] Alex Elson Oral Interview transcript, OH-074 [interviewed by Stuart J. Hecht] October 12, 1980, 13, Spec. Coll. Daley Library, UIC.

[9] The Hull homestead was the building where Jane Addams and Ellen G. Starr opened the settlement house in 1889. For a good biography of Helen Culver see: Rima Lunin Schultz and Adele Hast, editors, Women Building Chicago: A Biographical Dictionary 1790-1990 (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 20010.

[10] See the biographical entry of Wilmarth in Women Building Chicago. Wilmarth, among other distinctions, was the mother-in-law of Harold Ickes, a young Chicago lawyer who later went to Washington D.C.

[11] This data has been gathered primarily from the Minutes of the Hull-House Association, the Hull-House Year Books and Bulletins: April 25, 1895, March 14, 1903; April 14, 1903; October 15, 1907; January 27, 1908; April 14, 1908: October 30, 1928; November 1, 1928; April 9, 1929; June 18, 1929; October 29, 1929;  April 29, 1930;May 27, 1935, Board of Trusteesโ€™ Minutes, Hull-House  Collection, Dept. of Spec. Collections, Daley Library, University of Illinois at Chicago (UIC); Hull-House Bulletin 3, no. 12 (November and December 1899): 4. Biographical information on Sewell Avery: Marquis, Whoโ€™s Who Chicago and Illinois, 1945; for Helen Bowen Blair: Marquis, Whoโ€™s Who Chicago and Illinois, 1945; โ€œHelen Culver Funeral To Be Held Saturday.โ€ Chicago Tribune, Aug. 20, 1925, pg. 10; โ€œHelen Culver Leaves U. of C. $600,000.โ€ Chicago Tribune, Nov. 14, 1925, pg. 1; โ€œC.L. Hutchinson, Banker, Is Dead. Long Active in Civics, Art, and Charities.โ€ Chicago Tribune, Oct. 8, 1924. pg. 1. See biographies of Mary Rozet Smith, Mary Wilmarth, Louise deKoven Bowen and Helen Culver in Women Building Chicago: A Biographical Dictionary 1790-1990 edited by Rima Lunin Schultz and Adele Hast (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2001).

[12] Residency was a major function of the settlement house movement. It was a program that socialized hundreds of women and men from privileged and educated backgrounds and promoted ideas that we now associate with the liberal welfare state. Hull-house records on residency are incomplete, but minimally, there were 350 residents by 1930. My own research of residency at Hull-House from 1889 to 1963 lists more than 750 names, with varying amounts of biographical information. In 1935 there were 65 residents, of whom 45 were women and 20 were men, two were children; thirteen had arrived that fall; in 1943 there were 86 adults and 7 children; in 1946 there were 102 adults and 8 children. Hull-House Residents 1889-1929, Hull-House Collection, folder 294, Special Collections, Daley Library, UIC; Hull-House Year Book Forty-Fifth Year, 1934; “Report to Hull-House Trustees,” November 27, 1935, Adena Miller Rich Papers, Folder 17, Special Collections, Daley Library, UIC; Russell W. Ballard to the Board of Trustees, HHA, January 27, 1947, Welfare Council Papers Box 330, Folder 2, Chicago History Museum.

[13] [Residents of Hull-House] Hull-House Maps and Papers: A Presentation of Nationalities and Wages in a Congested District of Chicago, Together With Comments and Essays On Problems Growing Out of the Social Conditions [HHM&P] (New York and Boston: Thomas Y. Crowell & Co., 1895); Mary Jo Deegan argues that the Chicago School of Sociology at the University of Chicago in its early days was influenced by the work undertaken at Hull-House and that the early men of the Chicago school  had the “same ideal, to bring sociological knowledge to everyday life to enable people to make intelligent decisions. . . .”  Deegan, Jane Addams and The Men of the Chicago School, 41. Hull-House residents continued to use the settlement neighborhood as a field of study: Breckinridge, Sophonisba P. and Edith Abbott.  โ€œChicago Housing Conditions: The West Side Revisited.โ€ American Journal of Sociology, Vol. 17, no. 1 (July 1911): 1-34. Hull-House residents along with Jane Addams inspired the establishment of the City Homes Association in Chicago which sponsored research, again using the neighborhood and other districts of Chicago, and published Robert. Hunter, Tenement Conditions in Chicago. City Homes Association, 1901. At the time Hunter, who continued his career in New York City, was a Hull-House resident. Hull-House resident Edith Abbott revisited the neighborhood and other districts in Chicago in Abbott, Edith. The Tenements of Chicago: 1908-1935. University of Chicago Press, 1936. Recent sociological studies refer to both the neighborhood and the literature that has emerged about it: Gerald D. Suttles, The Social Order of the Slum: Ethnicity and Territory in the Inner City. University of Chicago Press, 1973, 1968.

Hunter, Albert.  Symbolic Communities: The Persistence and Change of Chicagoโ€™s Local Communities. University of Chicago Press, 1974; Gregory D. Squires, Larry Bennett, Kathleen McCourt, and Philip Nyden.  Chicago: Race, Class, and the Response to Urban Decline. Temple University Press, 1987; Carla Cappetti, Writing Chicago: Modernism, Ethnography, and the Novel. Columbia University Press, 1993.

[14] Dorothy Height, Open Wide The Freedom Gates (New York: Public Affairs Books, 2003) 54.

[15] Hull-House Year Book, 1925, 23: โ€œIn recent years there has been a rather large influx of colored people into the neighborhood. While this club is relatively new it has made an excellent beginning. Its program includes sewing, cooking, wax-work and recreational activities.โ€ Italians made up twenty-six percent of the Near West Side population while African Americans represented eight percent of the population in 1930. Louis Wirth and Margaret Furez, eds. “Near West Side,” Local Community Fact Book 1938 (Chicago: Chicago Recreation Commission, 1938.

[16] Hull-House Year Book, Fortieth Year, 1930, 27; Hull-House Year Book, Forty-second Year, 44; Donna Hodgman, โ€œHull-House Community Club Believes in Work As Well As Play.โ€ HH Block News, vol. 2, No. 9, Feb. 10, 1939, 2-3.

[17] Articles in the Chicago Defender about the club never identify its being all black as a problem and there were also reports that when national associations of African American women held their meetings in Chicago, the Hull-House settlement was a sought-after venue for part or all of the programs. This brings up the whole question of how in a segregated society a White institution like Hull-House could promote respect and acceptance of a black-only group; in this case anti-discrimination meant being willing to let African American community groups share space with Whites.

[18] Hull-House Year Book Forty-Second Year, 1931-32, 43; : โ€œOne afternoon a month all of the women who have afternoon classes at the House and in periods of unemployment the men as well, have an afternoon social at which refreshments are served and a special program is carried out. The last celebration of Washingtonโ€™s birthday was especially successful both for its historical presentation and its air of jollity. The group of women represented Mexicans, Italians, Greeks, Bohemians, Germans and Lithuanians.โ€ (Hull-House Year Book, Fortieth Year, 1930, 27; Hull-House Year Book, Forty-fifth year, 44, 35; Donna Hodgman, โ€œWide Interest Shown In Revival of Greek Club,โ€ Hull-House Block News, Jan. 27, 1939, Vol II, no. 7, 2; HHA Records, Scrapbooks-Press Clippings, Folder 523, West Side Times, 9-13-51;

[19] Harold Ickes, a Chicagoan with close ties to Hull-House and Jane Addams, had served as president of the local chapter of the NAACP. The Left-leaning New Deal networks had begun to include the black bourgeoisie; Hull-House was one of the connecting links in this new infrastructure, bringing blacks and whites together. Later on Robert E. Weaver, who also worked with Ickes, would live at Hull-House while he served as director of Community Services of the American Council on Race Relations in Chicago. Russell W. Ballard to the Board of Trustees, HHA, January 27, 1947, Welfare Council Papers Box 330, Folder 2, Chicago History Museum.

[20] David W. Kellum, โ€œDeath Claims Dewey R. Jones; Journalist is Buried After Simple Rites; Loses Fight With Death After Illness of Nine Days,โ€ Chicago Defender, April 15, 1939, 1.

[21] Hull-House At the Fiftieth Year. May 1940.

[22] http://tigger.uic.edu/htbin/cgiwrap/bin/urbanexp/main.cgi?file=new/subsub_index.ptt&chap=130. This is an article written by Alexander Gourse for Urban Experience: Hull-House and Its Neighborhoods 1889-1963, an educational and research website edited by Rima Lunin Schultz for the Jane Addams Hull-House Museum and the University of Illinois at Chicago.

[23] Actually had a surplus, but still were faced with essential repairs; endowment was somewhat over $500,000; during 1943 they did not liquidate any endowment securities for current expenses. The increase in the value of the endowment fund came from higher market quotations for their railroad bonds and common stocks not because there were additions to the endowment in 1943. โ€œFinancial Statement Year Ended December 31, 1943,โ€HHA Trusteesโ€™ Annual Meeting, January 28, 1944, Hull House Collection.

[24] Sydney J. Harris, โ€œCharlotte Carr Resigning From Hull House Job.โ€ Chicago Daily News, Dec. 23, 1942, 1; 4, Folder 543, Hull House Collection, Spec. Coll. Daley Library, UIC.

[25] Sydney J. Harris, โ€œCharlotte Carr Resigning From Hull House Job.โ€ Chicago Daily News, Dec. 23, 1942, loc. cit.

[26] Some of the break-up of the New Deal group at Hull-House can be attributed to the loss of WPA funds as the New Deal came to an end.

[27] One of the most telling reversals was the return of the weaving room. Carr had taken a real dislike to the arts and crafts-type approach to workers in the neighborhood and had removed much of the Labor Museum arts and crafts and utilized the space for industrial skills training and meeting rooms for groups of men who were unemployed. The weaving room after her departure was revitalized. Esther Wendel Oral Interview Transcript [interviewed by Mary Ann Johnson], July 11, 1984, page 2., Spec. Coll. Daley Library, UIC.

[28] โ€œMrs. Ruth Camp To Act As Head of Hull House.โ€ Chicago Tribune, May 29, 1943, pg. 18; HHA Trusteesโ€™ Minutes, July 23, 1943, Hull House Collection; Council of Social Agencies report by Lucy P. Carner, sec. of Division on Education and Recreation, reported on Hull House June 16, 1943, Welfare Council Papers Box 330, Folder 2, Chicago History Museum.

[29] Hazel MacDonald, โ€œResidents Ask for a Voice in Hull House,โ€ Chicago Times, n.d., Near West Side Community Committee Records, Box 30, Folder 410.

[30] HHA Annual Meeting Minutes, March 26, 1943, Hull House Collection.

[31] This is from a statement of qualifications for the director of Hull-House, which was written by Dr. Wayne McMillen in 1943 for the personnel committee. McMillen was a University of Chicago sociologist who had become a trustee in 1939 on the suggestion of Charlotte Carr. HHA Trusteesโ€™ Special Meeting, March 27, 1961, Hull House Collection, Folder 25, Spec. Coll. Daley Library, UIC; HHA Trusteesโ€™ Meeting, September 22, 1939.

[32] Sydney J. Harris, โ€œCharlotte Carr Resigning From Hull House Job.โ€ Chicago Daily News, Dec. 23, 1942, 1; 4, Folder 543, Hull House Collection; โ€œJane Addams Spirit in Carr Background.โ€ American, December 26, 1942, Folder 543, Hull House Collection

[33] A Brief History of the Committee on Minority Group Relationships, Division of Education and Recreation, Welfare Council of Metropolitan Chicago.โ€ October 1950, 1, Welfare Council Papers, Box 145, Folder 13, Chicago Historical Museum; HHA Trusteesโ€™ Minutes, September 24, 1943, Hull House Collection;

[34] Russell W. Ballard, โ€œHull-House Association Community Fund Service Report,โ€ October 1951, Hull House Collection, Folder 10.)

[35] Russell W. Ballard, โ€œHull-House Association Community Fund Service Report,โ€ October 1951, Hull House Collection, Folder 10.

[36]  HHA Trusteeโ€™ Minutes, March 28, 1952, Hull House Collection, Folder 16; Russell W. Ballard, Hull-House Association Service Report, October 1952. Prepared for the Welfare Council and Community Fund, Folder 41, Hull House Collection.

[37] HHA Trusteesโ€™ Minutes, January 28, 1955, page 2 of Minutes, Hull House Collection.

[38] Russell W. Ballard, โ€œThe Directorโ€™s Report,โ€ January 1957,โ€ Hull House Collection, Folder 21.

[39] HHA Trusteeโ€™ Meeting, May 27, 1938, Folder 5, Hull House Collection; Eri Hulbert to William Deknatel, Feb. 21, 1949, Hull House Collection, Folder 383.

[40] โ€œWho Will Plan to Rebuild the Near West Side?โ€ [brochure], n.d. [October 1948] Near West Side Community Committee Records, Box 30. Folder 403.

[41] Near West Side Planning Board Meeting with Chicago Land Clearance Commission, November 22, 1949, Near West Side Community Committee, Box 41, Folder 564, Spec. Coll. Daley Library, UIC; Executive Committee Meeting, Near West Side Planning Board, April 20, 1950, Near West Side Community Committee records, Box 41, Folder 565; William Deknatel, โ€œThe Near West Side Planning Board,โ€ pg. 6, typescript, December 18, 1950, Folder 388, Hull House Collection. Note that in this typescript Deknatel writes: โ€œIt was [also] realized at once that there were numerous city agencies whose planning in broad aspects affects the future of the Near West Side in detailed application. [the Plan Commission, the Land Clearance Commission, the Chicago Housing Authority, the Department of Subways and Superhighways] It was important to establish working relationships with the city agencies, with a dual purpose: the first to learn from them, and in turn to inform the people, what plans they are making which affect the community; and the other to transmit to the city agencies an expression of needs developed through the Planning Board.โ€ Also see: Eri Hulbert, executive director, to Ira Bach, Chicago Land Clearance Commission, June 6, 1951, Folder 389, Hull House Collection; Frederick T. Aschman, Chicago Plan Commission, to Ira J. Bach, Executive Director, Chicago Land Clearance Commission, January 11, 1954, Folder 395, Hull House Collection.

[42] Frederick T. Aschman, Chicago Plan Commission, to Ira J. Bach, Executive Director, Chicago Land Clearance Commission, January 11, 1954, Folder 395, Hull House Collection. 

[43] HHA Trusteesโ€™ Minutes, Sept. 26, 1952, Hull House Collection, Folder 16; Minutes, HHA trusteesโ€™ minutes, January 25, 1952, Hull House Collection, Folder 16; HHA  trusteesโ€™ minutes, December 3, 1954, Folder 18

[44] HHA Trusteesโ€™ Minutes, December 3, 1954, Folder 18, Hull House Collection; Near West Side Planning Board Meeting with Chicago Land Clearance Commission, November 22, 1949, Near West Side Community Committee, Box 41, Folder 564.

[45] Council Meeting, near West Side Planning Board, May 2, 1950, Near West Side Community Committee records, Box 41, Folder 566, Spec. Coll. Daley Library, UIC.

[46] In 1948 six subcommittees were authorized by the Temporary Organizing Committee for the redevelopment of the Near West Side, the precursor of the Near West Side Planning Board. They were: 1. Sub-Committee on Purpose, Policy and By-laws chaired by Russell Ballard and its members included Russellโ€™s son John; HH residents Ruth Austin, Robert Mack, Helen Springer and Clara Stahl. Also HH resident and executive director of the Mayorโ€™s Commission on Human Relations, Thomas Wright. Two โ€œoutsidersโ€ were Fred Rosenberg, who was from the West Side Community Organization, and Ethel Clark, who was from the Newberry Center, a social settlement in the African American district south of Hull-House.  The second sub-committee, On Industrial Contacts, was chaired by HH trustee Wallace Flower, a downtown investment banker, and had on its committee HH trustees Edward Blair, J. Biedler Camp and Bernard Schaar [all were either downtown or neighborhood-based businessmen]; Anthony Sorrentino was from the West Side Community Organization, but had grown up as the son of immigrants in the neighborhood; however, was employed by CAP after becoming a sociologist and graduating from U of Chicago. The other member was Walter Van Bergen.  The sub-committee on mailings and records [a fancy name for secretarial???] was, unsurprisingly, composed of three women, with Florence Scala, who had roots in both the neighborhood and Hull-House. The other two women, Rosemary Horn and Constance Varelis were residents at Hull-House. The fourth sub-committee, on Studies in the Area, was chaired by William Jones, professional social worker and African American; the other members were Russell Ballardโ€™s wife, Katherine; Ernest Giovangelo, brother of Florence Scala. HH resident Mary Gleason and a Pauline Lewis, who lived in the neighborhood were the other members. The fifth sub-committee, on materials, was chaired by Nick Taccio, one of the leaders of the West Side Community Organization and had on it the other members were Russell Ballardโ€™s wife, Katherine; and Eleanor Wright, HH resident Thomas Wrightโ€™s wife. The sixth sub-committee, on Personnel, was chaired by Joseph Rovai, community leader; HH resident Jessie Binford; HH resident-staff & community person Frances Molinaro; Frank Gabit; Frank Paz, a leader of the Mexican community with long ties to Hull-House; William Ray and Lucy Solano. Of the entire group, the majority were Hull-House connected; the second group related to the West Side Community Organization, and most of them were Italians. โ€œTemporary Organizing Committee for the Redevelopment of the Near West Side,โ€ typed list, n.d. Near West Side Community Committee records, Box 30, Folder 403, Spec. Coll. Daley Library, UIC.

[47] Even after public meetings and major efforts to bring in other groups, the elected council of the Near West Side Planning Board was not very different from the core group at the start of the process.

[48] Council meeting minutes, Near West Side Planning Board, Inc., November 8, 1949, Near West Side Community Committee Records, Box 41, Folder 564, Spec. Coll. Daley Library, UIC.

[49] Declaration of Housing Policy for rehabilitation of An Area of the Near West Side, Nov. 18, 1949, Near West Side Community Committee Records, Box 41, Folder 564, Spec. Coll., Daley Library, UIC.

[50] Special meeting of the Planning Committee of the near West Side Planning Board, March 9, 1950, Near West Side Community Committee records, Box 41, File 565, Spec. Coll., Daley Library, UIC.

[51] Executive Committee Meeting, Near West Side Planning Board, April 20, 1950, Near West Side Community Committee records, Box 41, Folder 565, Spec. Coll., Daley Library, UIC.

[52] William F. Deknatel letter to Senator Robert McClory, Springfield, Illinois, April 16, 1953, Folder 41, Hull House Collection.

[53] I could find no evidence of the cause of death. I donโ€™t have evidence of suicide, either, but in cases where letters, obituaries, memorial tributes, etc., absolutely are silent about cause or illness, accident or sudden hospitalization, it is not too remote a thought that this sensitive, overworked, incredibly idealistic, and very disappointed man would have taken his own life. “Eri Hulbert.” Chicago Tribune, May 6, 1955, pg. C10; See the Memorial Brochure in the Eri Baker Hulbert, III Papers, Spec. Coll., Daley Library, UIC.

[54] Minutes, HHA Trusteesโ€™ Minutes, December 3, 1954, Folder 18; Minutes, HHA board of trustees, April 29, 1955, Hull House Collection, Folder 19; Staff Chicago Land Clearance Commission, Site Designation Report for Slum and Blighted Area Redevelopment Project Harrison-Halsted,โ€ September 12, 1956, pg. 3, Folder 394, Hull House Collection UIC; Minutes, HHA Board of trustees, October 26, 1956, Hull House Collection, Folder 20; Schwarzhaupt Committee Meeting Minutes, Dec. 19, 1956, Folder 392, Hull House Collection UIC; Bernard E. Schaar, โ€œComment on the Objectives of Schwarzhaupt Project,โ€ January [7], 1957, Folder 392, Hull House Collection, UIC.

[55] HHA Trusteesโ€™ Minutes, April 30, 1954, Hull House Collection, Folder 18.

[56] Staff Chicago Land Clearance Commission, Site Designation Report for Slum and Blighted Area Redevelopment Project Harrison-Halsted,โ€ September 12, 1956, pg. 3, Folder 394, Hull House Collection UIC.

[57] Staff Chicago Land Clearance Commission, Site Designation Report for Slum and Blighted Area Redevelopment Project Harrison-Halsted,โ€ September 12, 1956, pg. 3, Folder 394, Hull House Collection UIC.

[58] โ€œHull House Eases Urban Renewal Fear.โ€ Chicago Tribune, May 22, 1958, pg. E4

[59] William Deknatel, untitled typed manuscript, n.d., pg. 2. Hull House Collection, Folder 386, Spec. Coll. Daley Library, UIC.

[60] Jane Addams, Twenty Years at Hull-House, 168-169

[61]  The Jane Club had rooms for thirty young women. Helen Campbell, โ€œThe Jane Club and its Meaning.โ€ The Interior (September 17, 1903).

[62] Florence Scala and Jessie Binford to Mrs. Emmett Dedmon, Paul Jans, HH Board of Trustees, March 27, 1961, Hull House Collection, Folder 27, Spec. Col., Daley Library, UIC; Jessie Binford to Mr. Jans, Marshalltown, Iowa, June 12, 1964, Folder 297, Hull House Collection.

[63] Remarks by Florence Giovangelo Scala, loc. cit.

[64] Minutes, HHA board of trustees, April 29, 1955, Hull House Collection, Folder 19 make it clear, even before Hulbertโ€™s death, that the citizen participation aspect of the Planning Board was troublesome and needed intervention by professionals; a committee to supervise the original Schwarzhaupt grant for citizen participation was created so that Hull-House had control.

[65] Erwin Bach, โ€œPush For U.S. Urban Aid in W. Side Area. Defense Mapped By Leaders.โ€ Chicago Tribune, Oct. 13, 1957, W1; Minutes, HHA board of trustees, September 26, 1957, Hull House Collection, Folder 22;

[66] William F. Deknatel to James C. Downs, Jr., January 6, 1960, Folder 49, Hull House Collection.

[67] Minutes, HHA board of trustees, April 28, 1960, Folder 49, Hull House Collection.

[68] James C. Downs, Jr., to Mrs. Claire Dedmon, Secretary, February 10, 1961, Hull House Collection, folder 25; Minutes, Special Meeting HHA trustees, Feb. 13, 1961, Hull House Collection, Folder 25; Minutes, HHA trustees, February 23, 1961, Hull House Collection, Folder 25;

[69] โ€œThe answer of Hull-House to all inquiries about the position in this matter will be that so far the idea is only a proposal; and that when it becomes a definite plan the Hull-House board will take action and make its position known.โ€  Minutes, HHA board of trustees, Sept. 29, 1960, Hull House Collection, Folder 24.

[70] Resolution Prepared by the Committee of the HHA Board of Trustees, February 10, 1961, Eri Baker Hulbert III Papers, Box 1, Folder 45.

[71] There were some trustees who opposed the โ€œprocessโ€ but thought the university plan a good one; others felt an obligation or responsibility to side with the neighbors; others wanted to salvage parts of the 13-building complex and hoped for leverage in negotiating with the university, should it be built, for inclusion of these buildings and also social work programs. These last mentioned trustees worried that taking a stance against the university prematurely would weaken Hull-Houseโ€™s ability to negotiate.

[72] Minutes, HHA trustees, February 23, 1961, Hull House Collection, Folder 25.

[73] Minutes, HHA trustees, February 23, 1961, loc. cit.


 [RS1]This has to be corrected

 [RS2]Now know the connection.

 [RS3]

After Jane Addams: Life at Hull-House from New Deal to Great Society, 1930-1963

This post is by Rima Lunin Schultz and was first given at theย Urban History Seminar, at the Chicago History Museum, onย November 8, 2007

The three decades immediately following the death of its legendary co-founder Jane Addams in 1935 are generally viewed as a period of chaos and decline, followed by a period in which Hull-House became more of a community center with professional social work replacing the social activism of reform-minded residents. In this narrative of decline, boards of trustees became less interested in innovation and more concerned with what role, if any, the old thirteen-building complex could play in the neighborhood that was being transformed by super highways, public housing, and the loss of population. New research challenges that characterization and this evening I hope to outline the beginnings of a revisionist account.

The untold story of Hull-House in the Charlotte Carr and Russell Ballard eras is the story of how the most famous settlement house in the United States responded to the greatest historical movement of the mid to late twentieth century: the migration of African Americans from the south to the urban North. More than any other issue, the Secondย Great Migration to Chicago in the 1940s and 1950s challenged the deepest felt values and goals of the social settlement movement. With a contradictory legacy on the race question from the Progressive Era, Hull-House had to decide whether or not to integrate its programs and staff, remain in the neighborhood or move to another location; support public housing or give in to the local prejudices against blacks and whites living together. Other social settlements faced the same challenge and there are no examples, to my knowledge, where a policy of integration was chosen and, more importantly, that it was achieved to any degree. Abraham Lincoln Center, the Unitarian-affiliated social settlement begun by progressive era radical Jenkin Lloyd Jones, a close and valued friend of Jane Addams.ย  Abraham Lincoln Center was strategically placed in the in-between space of black and white Chicago and from its beginnings promoted interracial democracy. It struggled to remain integrated, however, and by the 1930s had pretty much lost the battle.

While not perfect, Hull-House in the mid-1930s embraced a policy of integration and, in its programs, staffing, residency, and camp, achieved a greater degree of integration than has been acknowledged by any historians to this date. I am walking on egg shells here in my efforts to not overstate the successes of the program, but the efforts that were made were rather exceptional in the context of heightened violence against blacks when residential boundaries to enforce segregation were transgressed, and where openly defiant whites bullied the small number of black families who attempted to integrate public housingโ€”housing built by the federal government.

Charlotte Carr, head resident from 1937 to 1942, was at first glance an unusual choice to lead in the post-Addams era.ย  As the first full-time, paid head of the settlement she brought her experience as director of the Department of Labor under Governor Gifford Pinchot of Pennsylvania, a Left-of-center New Dealer, and as administrator of emergency relief in New York under Mayor Fiorello La Guardia. An outsider to the social settlement network, she was not an outsider to circles of women activists. A graduate of Vassar, Carrโ€™s early career brought her into contact with the womenโ€™s political culture of the Progressive Era. When she worked for Pinchot, she made a devoted friend of his wife, a radical feminist who encouraged Carrโ€™s investigations in the coal mining regions of Pennsylvania and, when Carr was criticized, defended her; Carr also worked under Frances Perkins in New York State. Perkins had been in Illinois long enough to spend time at Hull-House and become part of the network of activist women that spanned two reform erasโ€”from the 1890s through the New Deal. Such connections were valuable and made up for Carrโ€™s lack of social settlement experience. Carr had ties to the New Deal, the labor movement (and its Left-leaning C.I.O.), and to pro-integrationist activism in the Northeast.

Carrโ€™s approach to the race issue as administrator of emergency relief in New York had impressed Dorothy Height, the Civil Rights leader who had witnessed Carrโ€™s fairness toward blacks during the March 1935 riot in Harlem. The situation in March of 1935 was desperate for African Americans. While blacks were only 8 percent of New York Cityโ€™s population, they made up 42 percent of the unemployed on welfare. They were even denied positions on work projects set up by the welfare system and there was not a single person of color in a position of authority on the management staff of the Welfare Administration. Carr remedied the problem by appointing Height to be personnel supervisor in the central office of the Home Relief Bureau.

Her involvement with civil rights leaders was authenticโ€”Race men and women trusted Carr, and when she was about to leave New York for Chicago, a farewell dinner was given in her honor. The invited guests included Robert Elzy, founder of the Urban League in Brooklyn, New York; Dr. Channing Tobias, an executive with the YMCA, Bessye Beardon, Harlem civic leader and mother of the artist Romare Beardon; James B. Hubert of the New York Urban League, A. Philip Randolph, and T. Arnold Hill. [1] The event was reported in the Chicago Defender and the African American community in Chicago anticipated her move to the city. Carrโ€™s network of labor and civil rights leaders and her friendships with Frances Perkins, Eleanor Roosevelt, and Fiorello La Guardia were comparable to the kinds of networks Jane Addams tapped into at the high point of her influence. Jane Addams by 1912 had forged relationships with the black leadership and, when disgruntled after the Progressive Party convention they decided to caucus, they convened at Hull-House. It was one of those places in a segregated world where African American women and men felt welcome. This is not a declaration that progressive-era Hull-House was an integrated settlementโ€”by no means was that the case. Jenkin Lloyd Jones wrote Addams a deeply critical letter in which he questioned whether he still recognized the Jane Addams he had come to admire and respect: how could she support Theodore Roosevelt, a racist, militarist? But Addams co-existed with the contradictions that were part and parcel of Jim Crowism. She managed to push a progressive agenda on TR, albeit lacking real assurances about suffrage and equality issues; at the same time to have high level policy discussions with W.E.B.ย  DuBois.ย  She was one of the founding members of the NAACP, wrote for The Crisis, engaged in debates with Ida B. Wells Barnett over the lynching issue, tried in 1902, unsuccessfully, but very publicly, to integrate the General Federation of Womenโ€™s Clubs; visited the South frequently and stunned whites in Memphis when she invited twelve leading clubwomen to a luncheon. Such a breach of Jim Crow in 1899 was reported and one White Memphis paper informed Addams: โ€œShe must be one thing or the other. If, on her next visit, she is given a less cordial reception, there will be no reason why she should be surprised.”

Yet Addams was unable to integrate Hull-House. Instead the work done by Hull-House among blacks, who by 1925 had settled in significant numbers near the Maxwell Street Market, was carried out through the medium of the Hull-House Community Club, an organization of women affiliated with the State and National Federation of Colored Womanโ€™s Clubs. In Addamsโ€™s mind this arrangement must have resembled the setups Hull-House had developed with Greek and Italian womenโ€™s clubs. I caution us to not jump to conclusions about this stage of race relations in urban America but understand the โ€œaccommodationโ€ that both sides engaged in.

When Charlotte Carr arrived in 1937 she immediately announced that Hull-House had to integrate. She sought out Dewey Jones and his family, got a Rosenwald Fund stipend to cover his salary, and announced that Jones was going to investigate the conditions of African Americans in the neighborhood of Hull-House. Jones was anything but an accommodationist and in his report to the Welfare Council of Chicago was blunt in his criticism of the Hull-House Community Club.ย  Hull-House, he said, had not made it clear to blacks that they were welcome (admittedly HH had not said they werenโ€™t, and that stance wasnโ€™t good enough anymore. I am reminded of the statement Eugene Kinckle Jones, advisor on Negro affairs to the United States Department of Commerce, made to a gathering of social workers at the time of Jane Addamsโ€™s death: โ€œJane Addams made no special effort to lead the Negro to the Promised Land but by no act or thought did she eliminate this race from the classes or groups most in need. At Hull house they had no set place but they were eliminated from no place. In her condemnation of crime, she condemned lynching. In her belief in the extension of suffrage to all, she included the Negro in her all.

โ€˜In her advocacy of a living wage and the shortening of hours of the toilers of the land, she not only knew that the protection of the interests of white workers demanded that Negro workers be removed from the role of competitors and scabs against white workers, but for their own well-being she demanded that justice be meted out to this group.โ€[2]

Charlotte Carr, then, was a known quantity to the personnel committee of the Hull-House Associationโ€™s Board of Trustees. Even Louise Bowen understood that the social, economic, and racial issues of the late 1930s required an experienced executive to head Hull-House. Bowen was so influential in financial and policy matters after the death of Addams, it is hard to imagine that anyone could have been hired for the position of Head Resident without Bowenโ€™s approval; Charlotte Carr visited with Bowen at her summer home in Maine on several occasions. Then the deal was made. It was a deal that reflected the pressures that Bowen, as president of the Hull-House Association, was feeling from the Welfare Council and the National Federation of Settlements. Everyone told her that she must have a full-time, paid Head Resident. Adena Miller Rich, who had served as Interim Head Resident, had refused to take a salary, and had insisted on continuing with her directorship of the Immigrantsโ€™ Protective League. Such an arrangement was no longer possible: professional standards were taking over and not even Hull-House, the place where all of this had been invented, could ignore the new canon.

Openly advocating New Deal-style cultural expression and workersโ€™ education, as well as civil rights, Carr shifted gears at the settlement.ย  Dewey R. Jones, a journalist, who had been an advisor to Harold Ickes in Washington, D.C., was a good choice as the first African American resident at the House. Jones; his wife, Faith Jefferson Jones, a social worker; and their toddler, Dewey R. Jones, Jr., moved into the settlement in 1938.ย  Harold Ickes, a Chicagoan with close ties to Hull-House and Jane Addams, had served as president of the local chapter of the NAACP. The Left-leaning New Deal networks had begun to include the black bourgeoisie; Hull-House was one of the connecting links in this new infrastructure, bringing blacks and whites together.

During Carrโ€™s years, additional WPA workers joined staff and residents. Jesse Ogden and Jean Carterโ€”specialists in workersโ€™ education and peopleโ€™s theatre productionsโ€”coordinated a theatre production, โ€œHalsted Street,โ€ that engaged residents and neighbors in a free-wheeling and politically engaged process that paralleled the spirit and politics of the Hull-House Magazine. ย Conceived and driven largely by the cohort of William Schenk, Alexander Saxton, and Willard Motley, Hull-House Magazine arrived on the scene in 1939โ€”well after the advent of more widely known little magazines such as Anvil and New Massesโ€”and lasted for only three issues. Regardless of its short production, it was an important break with the past. All cultural production representing the Hull-Houseโ€”bulletins, yearbooks, invitations, even scenery and costumes for playsโ€”was designed. Of course children and adults produced ceramics and other crafts in great profusion and these had the imprint of their individuality. But the stage performances, musical programs, and yearbooks and bulletins were done under the guidance and supervision of the staff and residents. Edith de Nancrede, beloved drama teacher, was a stern disciplinarian. One of her former drama students remembered: โ€œI think casting was pretty much a unilateral decision that Edith de Nancrede made based on her knowledge of various people and where they fit into the parts of a play. There was no democratic aspect whatsoever.โ€[3] โ€œShe made the decisions on casting and I would say also pretty much on the selection of plays.โ€ Miss Nancrede suggested [the name of our club] and then we voted on it. And we liked it so much. I think she probably suggested every name of every club, because she was that talented that she knew justโ€”her suggestions were always met unanimously. Everybody enjoyed what she offered, you know. She said, โ€˜Do you think we should do this?โ€™ and then weโ€™d vote on it. * * * * * Everybody voted that way [yes]. No one voted against it.โ€[4] Nesta Smith, who taught string instruments at Hull-House let slip that โ€œthese new groups [Mexicans, blacks] that came in were culturally of a much lower level to work with. You see, they didnโ€™t come with the kind of culture back of them that the Italians and the Jewish people and the Greeks did. Besides the blacks that we got mostly were the southern blacks that migrated . . . and, morally and culturally and everything, they didnโ€™t have back of them what these other groups did. So it was quite a turn over . [when]. ย most of our old reliable European families were moving out.โ€ [5]

Integrating Hull-House was possible during Carrโ€™s tenure because Communists like Harvey and Jessie Lloyd Oโ€™Connor, and Alexander Saxton, brought a new spirit to Hull-House. They didnโ€™t displace the Old Guardโ€”dedicated, but limited, women like Nesta Smith, but for a very crucial, catalytic moment, the Cultural Front provided the courage and the context for a new politics and an enthusiasm for integration: Cultural Front artists and writers identified as cultural workers; and as white radicals, they wanted to be part of the creative explosion of the Chicago Black Renaissance that was bubbling up all over the South Side and, in some few sites like Hull-House where the Race barriers were being torn down. You could see the change in the magazines and wood cuts and paintings that were being produced, and the integration not only of races, but of residents and neighbors who would now intermingle in a different social interaction from the more formal and deferential exchange that had existed for forty years. Addams and her generation had gone to the limits of their cultural and social experience in the act of settling. Addams, especially had worked to redefine the basic human relationships between the classes in society, desiring to socialize connections.

The process of cultural production changed radically after 1937 โ€“ there was a freedom of expression, a spontaneity, a level of risk-taking; and the mimeographed newsletters that followed the Hull-House Magazines were filled with stories and tidbits about people and ideas, unrehearsed as if some spigot of creativity had been opened. Of course it was a different time period and these changes were part of deeper cultural transformations nationally. The Hull-House Block News, started by Dewey Jones, was an example of this new trend.

Carr found the whole concept of a Labor Museum, one of the legacies of the Addamsโ€™s years,ย  archaic, and she wanted no part of it. The Labor Museum was one of those ideas that Jane Addams held onto. Conceived as a way to accomplish a variety of goals, it was a product of the arts and crafts movement and the progressive era fascination with exhibition and performance as a way to educate. These images of the work rooms that became the Labor Museum on the weekends, when neighbors would dress the part and perform traditional forms of weaving, spinning, rug-making, wood working, and so forth. On one level it was a device to give respect and status to adult immigrants whose children looked askance at the old world skills. It was also an opportunity for women and men in the neighborhood to earn money by making products that were sold in Hull-House shops located in downtown Chicago. And finally, the museum-quality objects that Hull-House borrowed from the Field Museum, along with charts and other educational materials, were used by lecturers to connect industrial workers with the history of the technology of craft. Addams held this theory that contextualizing present-day work would somehow help men and women deal with the repetition and dullness of the daily grind. She remained very proud of the Labor Museum. Carr was horrified. Donna Hodgman, a resident during the Carr years, left an unpublished memoir that describes the tensions between the received authority of Jane Addams via the Old Guard, and the urgency with which Carr worked to smash those things, like the Labor Museum, that made absolutely no sense to her. Instead she instituted Workersโ€™ Education, a form of targeted, consciousness-raising adult learning that gave workers the information they needed in order to fight for their rights. One of the first projects was the publication of a digest of labor laws. Carr wanted to clear out the weaving room and make a meeting place for unemployed men, where they could get advice, perhaps even learn new skills. She wanted to retool the industrial shops and update what was taught. And, she was positively disposed to unionization of the workers at Hull-House and soon after she arrived, she began talks with an A.F.L. union for the engineers and the Social Service Employees Union, a CIO affiliate, for the rest of the staff. Many of the Hull-House kitchen staff and waitresses were already unionized; but Carr had taken the idea of unionization in a new direction. Carr was forceful and proceeded with union negotiations, but she had begun to alarm Mrs. Bowen and other more cautious trustees.

At the same time that the Cultural Front artists, writers, and activists were settling in, the whole climate in the United States against radicals and Communists had turned even uglier, if that was possible, then the Red Scare days following World War I. Among the Left-leaning New Dealers were individuals, like Carr, who began to feel the squeeze from the Left and the Right. There is no time to go into the sectarian issues that choked the energies of the CIO and other Left-leaning organizations, or to compile the evidence for the mounting anti-red baiting that was cutting off debate in the United States. Here I want to indicate how much what happens to Carr at Hull-House comes out of the larger political situation in which the Roosevelt administration and the whole nation became embroiled in. Unfortunately we have no private correspondence written by Carr, or memos, or anything that might reveal her state of mind before she decided that the trustees had made a vote of โ€œno-confidenceโ€ when they instructed her about how she would, in future, deal with budget decisions. Carr believed that she was fired from Hull-House because of her politics, and I donโ€™t think she was mistaken. It wasnโ€™t her politics in the ordinary use of the word, however. She did support candidates and take political positions, but so had Jane Addams, and everyone knew that, although Bowen in a very revealing newspaper interview downplayed Addamsโ€™s political activities. Bowen put it succinctly when she said โ€œMiss Addams seldom appeared at gatherings outside of Hull House. Labor and other forces came to Hull House. Miss Carr goes out of Hull House. She goes to labor and other groups. She takes Hull House to the masses.โ€[6] Bowen, once again, was remembering a sanitized and safe version of Jane Addams, but she had pinpointed the change in attitude that New Dealers and labor leaders embraced. The unions were no longer coming to the table with hats in hand.

By placing Charlotte Carr’s tenure at the center of a narrative of decline or dissolution, it negatively frames the two innovations with which she is most associated: the literal desegregation of the Hull-House residence and all of its programs, and, secondly, the reimagining of Hull-Houseโ€™s future as a kind of labor college. In similar ways, her institution of a much more aggressive agenda of consumer education, her cultivation of new relationships with labor unions, and her recruitment of other workers (Jess Ogden and Jean Carter, Mary Wing, Alice Treleaven, and many others, all of whom had connections to activist worker education projects) signaled her new and ambitious hopes for the social settlement.ย  Instead of situating the Carr years in the shadow of a charismatic leader, we should be thinking about her leadership as part of a large-scale reorganization of American life that includes higher education reform, the emergence of mass media, new forms of labor organization, and civil rights agitation.

If Carr embraced the challenge of integration head-on, Russell Ballardโ€™s tenure at Hull-House was really shaped by the Second Great Migration of African Americans from the South in the 1940s and 1950s. The First Great Migration of African Americans from the Southern United States impacted the neighborhood around Hull-House only peripherally. The Second Great Migration of the 1940s and 1950s, however, reconfigured the spatial, cultural, and political map of Chicago, creating a challenge for all the social settlements including Hull-House. This is the context for understanding the twenty-year tenure of Russell Ballard (1943-1963), who was, like Charlotte Carr, keenly interested in race relations in the United States, and committed to policies of integration and anti-discrimination. Demographic and economic changes coupled with slum clearance, highway building, and plans for urban renewal began to change the old neighborhood.

As early as 1940, trustee William Deknatel, a close ally of the settlement, was critical of Charlotte Carrโ€™s emphasis on neighborhood initiatives in a fundraising letter she had drafted. โ€œHull-House, I feel needs a broader basis of appeal. Further, we must face the fact that the Hull-House neighborhood is solving its problem by disappearing.โ€[7]

The changing nature of social work also added to the challenge faced by the Hull-House Association as it asked itself about the nature of its present role and future identity.ย  Under the two decades of leadership of Ballard, the first professionally trained social worker and first male to direct the settlement, the freewheeling and spontaneous quality of experimentation that had characterized Hull-House and its residents in prior eras diminished and retreated.

The loss of financial autonomy as Hull-House became one of many social agencies regulated by foundations and governmental bodies, the emergence of a culture of professionalism that challenged the older model of volunteer resident-activist, and the demise of Progressive-Era and the Cultural Front-New Deal reformist politics and the rise of Cold War liberalism were among the factors that led to its changing social status and presence. Ballard was a liberal and a civil rights advocate who lacked the personal standing and reputation of a Jane Addams. He also lacked the political network of progressivism and the ascendant womenโ€™s political culture of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries that had been so important to Addamsโ€™s success.

Hull-House continued to be a significant site of cultural expression but increasingly was unable to function as a sanctuary for unpopular and marginal views.

The high artistic cultural expressions that had been the basis of the conversation between Hull-House residents and their neighbors had been dislodged during the period of the Cultural Front, only to re-emerge in the conservative aftermath of World War II and this time without the patina of uplift.ย  Ballard and his staff utilized and rehearsed the rhetoric of democracy and brotherhood but found the racial tensions mounting in the neighborhood and the nation difficult to counter. Instead of innovative programs for African American migrants from the South, Hull-House invested in outreach to the numerically smaller group of Puerto Ricans who had moved into the neighborhood west of the settlement. Integration efforts were carefully controlled in the off-site summer camp run by the settlement in Waukegan, Illinois. The efforts to organize the neighborhood for progressive change undertaken by the cooperative councils during the Cultural Front days now were carried out by a professional staff, with foundation grants, under the supervision of the Hull-House Association. Without a powerful progressive political network engaged in municipal, state, and federal negotiations with which to coalesce, Ballardโ€™s advocacy of integrated public housing projects, community-based and controlled urban renewal plans, and progressive labor legislation had little success.

The Hull-House trustees who were increasingly representative of a real-estate industry-led redevelopment of post-World War II metropolitan Chicago (reflecting the Richard J. Daley plan for urban rebirth) ultimately found that the role for Hull-House was to help federal, state, and municipal authorities demolish the neighborhood that had been the focus and the context of the settlement experience between 1889 and 1959. James C. Downs, Jr., who served as president of the Hull-House Association in 1959,1960, and 1961, the crucial years in which the fate of the neighborhood was decided, was a downtown realtor who had also made a name for himself as the head of Real Estate Research Corporation, the firm that had done the original site studies for the proposed Chicago-area campus of the University of Illinois. He began his association with Hull-House sometime in the mid-1950s. He had become one of Mayor Richard J. Daleyโ€™s closest advisors. The other trustees in 1960 included: the wives of realtors Jay Beidler Camp and Ferd Kramer. Kramer, who was involved in some capacity in almostย  every major redevelopment project in Chicago,ย  served as president of the Metropolitan Housing and Planning Commission and in 1941 with Holman Pettibone, and Newton Farr, helped guide Chicagoโ€™s early renewal efforts. Kramer managed Lake Meadows, a project funded by New York Life, and developed Prairie Shores. Trustees also included: two African Americans,ย  Nathan A. Scott, an Episcopal priest and journalist Era Bell Thompson; former Hull-House residents (William Deknatel, Mrs. William F. Byron, Wayne McMillen); Mrs. Wm. McCormick Blair, Louise Bowenโ€™s daughter; Adlai E. Stevenson, U.S. Senator and former Governor; Charles P. Schwartz, a lawyer and former advisor to Jane Addams; George Consoer, a partner in an engineering firm; Mrs. W. Press Hodgkins, a Lake Forest socialite and philanthropist; investment bankers John E.ย  Blunt and Wallace Flower; Mrs. Alma Petersen, a close ally of Louise Bowenโ€™s who had served as president of the HHA board when Mrs. Bowen retired; Thomas Beacom, a trust officer with First National Bank; Mrs. Theodore Askounes Ashford, a Greek immigrant active in Greek-American organizations. Russell Ballard had lobbied for fourteen years to get the trustees to accept qualified neighborhood people as trustees. Mrs. Ashford was one of his small victories in democratizing the power structure within the settlement association.[8]

Bernard E. Schaar, an industrialist, also served as a trustee. His wife, Sarah Schaar was a social worker with the United Jewish Federation and had worked with Addams.[9]

By the end of the 1950s, the Hull-House Trustees were reinventing the settlement by contemplating its removal from its historic site and its transformation into a social agency that served multiple constituencies in locations throughout the metropolitan area. The vision of settling as a bridge-building act undertaken to create cross-class and cross-ethnic and racial harmony and understanding had fallen away, replaced by strategies of delivering services in decentralized settings.

Recent scholarship on the 1940s and 1950s suggests that underneath the veneer of a consensus and conformist society, and in contradistinction from the Cold War liberalism that was dominant, womenโ€™s organizations, peace and anti-nuclear proliferation groups, and groups working for better race relations gained ground. In its last years at Halsted and Polk, the Hull-House settlement dealt with race relations on a daily basis. It was a site where pro-integrationists and civil rights advocates who were connected at the federal and local levels kept a vision of a multi-racial and multicultural democracy as a goal to be achieved. The narrative of Hull-House and race in the 1940s and 1950s has been submerged. The recovery of the names of Robert C. Weaver, Robert R. Taylor, Dewey Jones, and Lillian Summers, a social worker who โ€œreplacedโ€ Dewey Jones, whose untimely death in 1939 shortened his stay at Hull-House, are the main actors of this new narrative. Thomas H. Wright, who may also have been African American, lived at Hull-House in late 1940s early 1950s; he was the executive director of the mayor’s commission on human rights from 1945 and he died June 18, 1952. He was a teacher, a minister, and a federal official before heading the human relations group, and he was a columnist for the Chicago Defender. [10] Elaine Switzer, a social worker and head of the minorities committee of the Welfare Council, was Russell Ballardโ€™s assistant in charge of race relations among the Italians and African Americans who came in groups to activities at Hull-House, at carefully calculated different times of the day (and night). It remains to be researched how their presence at Hull-House related to national policies and politics and neighborhood affairs. The other dimension of this period that cannot be overlooked is the spectre of red-baiting that reaches a high point with Joseph McCarthy. All the civil rights work undertaken by social settlements and other sites of efforts to establish multi-racial and multi-ethnic democracy occurred in the context of accusations and threats:

As Alex Gourse has written, for the Urban Experience website: โ€œThe tension between anti-Communism and liberalism that climaxed during the early 1950s with Joseph McCarthy and the House Un-American Activities Committee was not new to institutions like Hull-House. Jane Addams, Alice Hamilton, Edith Abbott, and Charlotte Carr, among other Hull-House personalities, had all been singled out for their political views and activities. The Cold War brought the specter of radical subversion back to the center of American political culture, and avowedly โ€œliberalโ€ public figures like Russell Ballard were often branded as Communist sympathizers. As Ballard struggled to define the settlementโ€™s role in a rapidly changing political landscape, his involvement with certain reform issues and groups drew criticism not only from outside the Hull-House organization, but also from within.โ€ Ballard agreed with the position of organizations like Americans for Democratic Action — he was committed to social change and democracy, but definitely anti-communist, and not only because Joe McCarthy was out there. As with many Left-leaning New Dealers like Charlotte Carr, Ballard had been burned by the manipulations of Communist Party operatives who he felt tried to use Hull-Houseโ€™s good name. There were many others who fell into the same category as Ballard.ย  But it was a hard row to hoe when requests from internationalists and womenโ€™s organizations, including the Womenโ€™s International League for Peace and Freedom, were unwilling to purge themselves of subversive elements. In this climate, and with these constraints both self and externally imposed, Russell Ballardโ€™s leadership style appeared muted in comparison to Carr.

A last thought — initially I found the juxtaposition of the real estate interests on the board of trustees and the self-consciously integrationist positions of Russell Ballard to be inexplicable. Why didnโ€™t they fire him? What was going on? After unearthing the names of key civil rights leaders who were resident or trustee at Hull-House in the late 1930s thru 1950s, at the same time that James C. Downs and other real estate redevelopment/urban renewal promoters also served on the board, it hit me that this was, in fact, one of the โ€œaccomplishmentsโ€ of cold war liberalism as practiced by Ballard at Hull-House. The essence of this liberalism was its accommodation to the private market; the integrationists had nowhere to go but in the direction of men like Downs and Kramer. These men, who would be awarded human relations commendations from the Mayorโ€™s Commission on Human Rights do not look very much like civil rights leaders to me; yet the other side of the private market, the real estate block-busters and red-lining mortgage agents, were betting on racism to win out. At Hull-House the good realtors, the race relations specialists, and the liberals who believed in an interracial society and democratically-based local planning inhabited public space in an often polarized, violent urban landscape.

[1]โ€œFriends Give Farewell Fete for New Hull House Head.โ€ Chicago Defender, Oct. 2, 1937, pg. 7.)

[2] (โ€œE.K. Jones Pays Tribute to Hull House Founder.โ€ Chicago Defender, June 29, 1935, pg. 3.)

[3] (Alex Elson Oral Interview transcript, OH-074 [interviewed by Stuart J. Hecht] October 12, 1980, 16.)

[4](Eleanor Carroll Farwell Oral History transcript, OH-052 [Interviewed by Mary Ann Johnson] July 14, 1981,51-53.)

[5] ย (Nesta Smith Oral Interview transcript, OH-019 [interviewed by Babette E. Munson], January 19, 1982, 10.)

[6] ย โ€œJane Addams Spirit in Carr Background.โ€ American, December 26, 1942, Folder 543, Hull House Collection.

[7] Deknatel to Carr, March 2, 1940, Folder 37, Hull House Collection.

[8] Ballard to Mrs. Byron, HH Trustee, Feb. 7, 1946, Hull-House Association 1936-55, Folder 2, Box 330, Welfare Council Papers, CHS.

[9] RWBallard, โ€œThe Hull House Experience.โ€ Typescript Ms., 3-4. March 4, 1978 Un edited. RWB Folder 26, Box 3, Supplement V.

[10] T.H.Wright Dies; Aid to Mayor On Race Relations.” Chicago Tribune, June 19, 1952, pg.B9.

“Staging Halsted Street (1939): An Unusual Production in Hull-House’s Theatrical History.”

Before I launch into my formal talk, I would like to acknowledge the fine work of Ellen Skerrett, associate editor of the history website Urban Experience in Chicago: Hull-House and Its Neighborhoods, 1889-1963. In the process of preparing the section of our website that deals with the Performing Arts at Hull-House, we were able to locate the script for the play, Halsted Street, perhaps the only copy that has survived; we also found a wonderful unpublished memoir of a Hull-House resident, Donna Hodgman. Her manuscript contains the fullest description of the events surrounding the production of Halsted Street.ย  Ellen wondered if Donna Hodgman’s son, Christopher, nicknamed “Kit,” who lived with his mother and father in one of the residents’ apartments in the Boys’ Club Building at Hull-House, could be found. Ellen tracked him down and I am happy to announce that he is here today. Dr. Christopher Hodgman’s notes about his boyhood at Hull-House, Donna Hodgman’s manuscript, and the Halsted Street script are all on our website in the Historical Narrative section under the Performing Arts at Hull-House, along with many other texts and images. Sarah Hoadley, also an associate editor of the website, prepared electronic versions of the documents and has written the editorial notes. Dean Judith Kirshner of the College of Architecture and the Arts and Professor Margaret “Peg” Strobel, Interim Director of Hull-House Museum have been generous in their support of the website and this theater project.

My role today is to introduce an audience in 2003 to the late 1930s depression- milieu in which the unusual Hull-House theatre production, Halsted Street, was conceived and staged. Economic and social events following the 1929 Wall Street crash and the spreading unemployment that continued through the 1930s had changed the political and cultural landscape of the American nation. The Federal Theatre, part of the New Deal’s WPA, introduced millions of Americans to new formsโ€”the Living Newspaper, agit-prop drama, the drama of social criticism. In Chicago race and class issues erupted and protest politics took shape. The National Negro Congress (NNC) had strong Chicago support; Theodore Ward’s play Big White Fog, a Chicago Federal Theatre production, created controversy with its critique of capitalism and portrayal of Garveyism and socialism as alternatives for the black masses.

At Hull-House, the oldest and the largest settlement house in the United States, internal changes combined with the larger social forces in society. The death of Jane Addams in 1935 had personal and institutional repercussions for the residents and staff. Yet newcomers continued to find their way through the front doors. Donna and Crosby Hodgman had come to Hull-House because they “kept reading about the depression in the New Republic” and thought that residency at Hull-House would connect them to the struggle.[1] The Hodgmans, with their nursery-age son, Kit, moved into one of the residents’ apartments in the Boys’ Building. During the day Crosby taught at the Chicago Latin School, an expensive private institution; Kit attended the nursery in the Mary Crane School in the Hull-House complex, and Donna taught citizenship classes and then became the “House Manager.” We learn about the staging of the play Halsted Street and about conditions at the famous settlement from 1936 to 1942, through the “eyes” of Donna Hodgman. Her status as a newcomer freed her from the worst sort of sentimental memorializing of Jane Addams and her critique of the dingy and worn out interior spaces and the breakdown of leadership among the remaining Hull-House standard bearers is confirmed in the Trustees’ Minutes of the Hull-House Association. Hull-House was in trouble in 1936.[2] 

With the arrival of Charlotte Carr in 1937, the settlement once again reverberated with the vitality and enthusiasm of women and men with a cause.  There were still serious administrative and budgetary problems, but there was an infusion of federal funds, WPA workers, and strong leadership. By 1938 there were ninety-eight residents at Hull-House; seventy-five were paid salaries, and there were between sixty and eighty volunteer workers.. [3]

The desegregation of Hull-House began in these years and coincided with the publication of Hull-House Magazine, edited by William Schenk, with associate editors Willard F. Motley and Alex Saxton.ย  Motley did not reside at Hull-House but participated in the cultural life of the settlement, calling it his university; an African American writer steeped in the lore of the West Side neighborhood, he and Alex Saxton developed a friendship, one of the inter-racial friendships that became possible at this time in the New Deal milieu of Hull-House. Saxton, a Hull-House resident, said he first became aware of racism because of his engagement and belonging to the Communist Party. He read Howard Fast’s Freedom Road and learned black history from the CP branch in Chicago. Other residents at the time included Communists Harvey and Jessie O’Connor; Harvey was formerly editor of The People’s Press; Schenk collaborated with Jess Ogden on the Halsted Street script. [4]ย  Alice Treleaven, who had been employed by the Adult Education Project of the W.P.A., teaching workers’ education at Chicago Commons, had left that position to work at Hull-House. Jerry Ingersoll, a Dartmouth College graduate developed classes in civics and labor problems. Leah Dickinson, an organizer for the Amalgamated Clothing Workers who had six years’ experience in settlementsโ€”Kinsley House in Pittsburgh, and Christadora and Union settlements in New Yorkโ€”was Charlotte Carr’s assistant. [5]

There are three observations I want to make about Hull-House in the late 1930s. The first one is that it was extremely difficult for old timers who remained after Addams’s death in 1935 to see anyone else in the leadership role at Hull-House, either as Head Resident or on the Board of Trustees.ย  Even as they reminded themselves that Jane Addams would be the first to embrace change, they lived in their memories as they attempted to work in the present.ย  Charlotte Carr’s five years were difficult ones since she made the trustees and older residents uncomfortable from the first moment she arrived.ย  The trustees, who were more cautious than the residents, had to be persuaded to allow the Chicago Civil Liberties Committee to rent Bowen Hall for a meeting to discuss the policing of industrial disputes with a showing of the Paramount newsreel of the 1937 Memorial Day riot in South Chicago near the Republic Steel Plant. [6]ย  They found it difficult to find “new blood” to invigorate the Hull-House Association board and continued to look for trustees who replicated their own class and social status.[7] This makes the staging of Halsted Street an unusual Hull-House production.

My second observation is that the Hull-House facilities were in terrible disrepair. The worst part about the physical deterioration of the place was the pressure it placed on the trustees to fund raise for maintenance and upkeep at a time of economic crisis.ย  In 1929 at a conference of settlement leaders that included Graham Taylor of Chicago Commons, Mary E. McDowell of the University of Chicago Settlement, and Addams, the three icons of the social settlement movement were asked what they would do differently if they had the chance. Addams replied that perhaps they had grown too large and were hampered by the physical space they inhabited: “There are too many roofs,” she noted, and the implication was that they all needed repairs.[8] Charlotte Carr had to deal with the repairs at the same time that she was trying to develop new programs. When federal programs ended in 1939, Carr and the board began to dip into unrestricted endowment funds to cover the annual deficit. When the trustees refused to accept her budget for 1943, Charlotte Carr resigned. [9] Carr and Ogden’s “freedom” to stage Halsted Street was directly related to the infusion of federal money to support the Workers’ Education Department staff at Hull-House.

ย My third observation is that even in this period of upheaval and change, the value of artistic expression in the lives of ordinary people continued to be one of the major goals of Hull-House and was embraced by oldtimers and newcomers alike. The production of Halsted Street in 1939 was an affirmation that art had a fundamental role in people’s lives.

The various federal arts programs during the New Deal had much in common with Hull-House’s legacy of “Art for the People.” One of the first activities at Hull-House had been the Shakespeare Club, conducted by Ellen Gates Starr, in which neighbors read plays. A raised space in the first floor parlor or drawing room became a “stage” for performances, followed in 1893 with the construction of theater space in the Gymnasium and Coffee House Building and, finally, in 1899 when the Hull-House Theatre was built.[10] 

Theater at Hull-House always had social objectives and these were privileged above any “art for art’s sake” approach. As Stuart Hecht has detailed, Addams selected directors who shared her values and endorsed the inclusive participation of children, adolescents, and adults in social drama clubs. Only the Hull-House Players, directed by Laura Dainty Pelham from 1900 to 1924 and, after her death, by Maurice J. Cooney from 1924 to 1941, were exclusive in the selection of participants.

Edith de Nancrede’s work with the Hull-House Children’s Theatre and the multitude of social drama clubs she directed, was the purest expression of Jane Addams’s concept of the function of drama [11] After Nancrede’s death in 1936, Hull-House struggled to reconfigure its drama programs. Helen Tieken Geraghty, a student of Max Reinhardt, became director of the Actors’ Guild at Hull-House.  She, too, saw the social and educational possibilities of theatre and proposed a Hull-House People’s Theatre in 1939 as an artistic and cultural expression of the various ethnic and racial groups in the neighborhoods near the social settlement. The proposed People’s Theatre, like the Hull-House Labor Museum, established by Jane Addams in 1900, would be a showcase for the different cultural traditions found in the neighborhood with the goal of developing mutual respect and understanding. Unfortunately, there was no money for such an initiative. [12]

It was in Jess Ogden that Charlotte Carr found the most able practitioner of the Hull-House theater spirit. He incorporated โ€œthe Mexicans, Negroes, Greeks, and Italians of the neighborhood” into the process and encouraged a collaborative spirit[13] but according to Donna Hodgman, Ogden was the creative force and the play, Halsted Street, was his creation.  “I couldn’t make head or tail from the descriptions I heard,” she wrote. Ogden talked about using blackouts instead of a traditional curtain. The stage was to have several levels that she “couldn’t visualize . . . at all!” [14] There was going to be a model streetcar on stage that was going to contain the speaking chorus. An elevated historical panel was to be constructed “in which true stories of the past will be re-enacted.” [15]   Advertised as an “animated mural” Halsted Street was billed as a play about “the concept democracy” that had as its main theme “the need for racial cooperation.” [16] Along with the model streetcar, skits and the elevated historical panel, the play also used poems by Carl Sandburg, selected by William Schenk from the poet’s Chicago Poems, from Slabs of the Sunburnt West, and From Smoke and Steel. Schenk’s note in the typescript reads: “In 1914, Carl Sandburg, the American poet, extended an invitation to the cartoonists of Chicago. This May [1939] Hull-House accepts. The poet said, “Come you cartoonists/Hang on a strap with me here/At seven o’clock in the morning/On a Halsted Street Car.[17]

Although we have recovered the file that contains the typescript for the play, including the chorus and at least one historical scene, the Sandburg poems, and a rough drawing of the stage set with some stage directions, we can only speculate just how Halsted Street was staged.[18]

The Halsted Street production evoked the themes and theatrical techniques of the experimental plays of the Federal Theatre Project. Prior to Carr’s arrival, Hull-House had had little if any contact with the Chicago branch of the Federal Theatre Project, although its Children’s Theatre group had won a National Youth Administration drama competition. [19]

Carr had no particular interest or knowledge of the performing arts. A Vassar graduate, she had served as a policewoman in New York City, patrolling the Brooklyn Bridge during World War I, as Secretary of Labor of Pennsylvania under a liberal and reform administration, and as a director of relief in the early years of the Great Depression in New York City under Mayor LaGuardia. She had never worked in a settlement house.[20] But she liked the idea that permeated the Federal Theatre Project and Workers’ Education in the 1930s: using theater for workers’ education and for social change. 

 In the five years that Carr was Hull-House’s director, Carr and her staff used drama and pageantry to resolve ethnic and racial conflicts and to encourage those groups in the neighborhood who remained marginalized from the settlement to enter its doors.  One of the most important decisions Carr made was to invite journalist Dewey R. Jones and his wife Faith Jefferson Jones, a social worker, to become the first African American residents at Hull-House. They lived at Hull-House with their son, Dewey Jr., who was a toddler.

Carr asked Dewey to conduct a study of black needs at the settlement; he had been a special assistant on black issues to Franklin Roosevelt’s Secretary of the Interior Harold Ickes, and had been involved with Ickes’ efforts to guarantee integrated public housing in Chicago.[21]   Jones’ too short stay at Hull-House (he died in April 1939) was just long enough for him to leave one of the few documents we have that addresses the conditions of race relations in the neighborhood and at the settlement. What he found was that the neighborhood in 1938 included the largest Italian population in Chicago, the largest Mexican colony and the second largest black colony. Almost no inter-racial work had been done by Hull-House, a fact that Jones believed  “was [not] because of any policy of the House or any decision on anyone’s part but just because of a sort of taking for granted that if an institution was in the heart of the community and had facilities, everyone who needed them would take advantage of them.” [22]

Jane Addams, Jones discovered, had established a Negro mothers’ club in 1927 that met at Hull-House but never became part of the general settlement community. “They were not on any mailing list. They had their meetings only. Their children came the same night, and when the Federal government began to assist in this type of program Hull House acquired some WPA and NYA workers and one of them was assigned the job of corralling the Negro children and keeping them busy.” [23] Hull-House was not alone in its de facto segregation: the American people from top to bottom experienced the Great Depression, the New Deal, and World War II as a segregated society.

Charlotte Carr’s decision to create two new departments at Hull-Houseโ€”the Community Service Department and the Workers’ Education Departmentโ€”along with her reorganization of the settlement’s administrative structure, opened the door to inter-racial activities. The first dealt with the relationships of neighbors and nationality groups to one another, to their environment, and to Hull-House. The second expanded the traditional courses in citizenship and English to include outright education in workers’ rights, union organization, and issues of management and labor.

There were visible cultural expressions that I believe were the outcomes of her new approach.ย  In 1938, the four major groupsโ€”Italian, Greek Mexican and blackโ€”cooperated together for the first time to present the Christmas tableaux, an annual event at Hull-House that had been, since its inception in the early years of the settlement, an expression of a universalized Christian symbolism. The 1938 version incorporated the “Italian conception of the birth of Christ; the Blessing of Christ in the church according to Greek tradition; ‘Pasada,’ the entrance into Bethlehem, according to Mexican conception; and the Adoration of the Magi from the black point of view. The play was accompanied by songs rendered by the group whose tableaux was on view at the time.” [24] This direct identification of the pluralism that existed even in the context of a collective celebration of Christmas was new for Hull-House. Differences in religious expression had been subsumed within the high culture of European or Western Christian artโ€”the kind of images visitors to the Art Institute of Chicago could see; the music played at Christmas time at Hull-House was the kind performed by the Symphony Orchestra and in the Protestant and Americanized Catholic churches that still resisted the ethnic or regional customs and popular art of marginal ethnicities and races. This may have come about as a result of Jane Addams’s conviction that the settlement was a neutral ground in terms of religious belief; the Christmas tableaux could be construed as embodying universal ethical elements because the lack of denominational specificity was a guard against religious observance. Christmas was a cultural celebration at Hull-House rather than a religious worship service.

Only in the Labor Museum’s exhibitions and in the shops where textiles and pottery were produced, and in the ethnic drama productions by Greek, Italian, and Jewish social groups had Hull-House prior to 1935 highlighted the specificity of ethnicity; in these cases the focus on ethnic arts and crafts were part of an effort to promote mutual appreciation and respect between different ethnic groups.

 The introduction in 1938 of ethnically specific religious expression in the Christmas Tableaux was dangerously close to incorporating the religious observance of each group. What it may have risked in terms of neutrality it gained in the sense of authenticity and empowerment ethnic and racial groups experienced when they were able to demonstrate their faith in a public place alongside others from related religious traditions.

In a similar vein Jess Ogden described the manner in which theater functioned to bring “about a harmony of the various groups with which the settlement must work.” He noted that there was a large Mexican group that had three factions composed respectively of Catholics, Communists, and liberals.  Someone in the Hull-House staff came up with the idea of having a real Mexican fiesta. This became an opportunity to unite the various factions. Hull-House during the Addams’ s years scheduled an Italian night or a German night, but never attempted to incorporate the Italian street festa as a vehicle for promoting mutuality and understanding between the various factions within the Italian community.  Ogden explained how Hull-House used the Mexican fiesta: “The older people of all factions were invited to recall traditions and customs and to help with the planning of the carnival. The younger people went to work on pageants and plays, each faction planning something in which it was especially interested. The help of other actors were enlisted and three episodes in the history of Mexico were finally produced before an audience composed of the entire community in carnival mood. Not only did the factions forget their differences in admiring each other’s contributions, but also there resulted a better understanding on the part of other groups in the community.”  Both Ogden and Helen Tieken Geraghty, who also worked on the carnival, believed that the change wrought by the fiesta was not merely temporary but had lasting value. [25]

Halsted Street is the best example of how Carr and Ogden used the arts to foster racial and ethnic integration and cooperation. Hodgman said Ogden wanted the play “to have guts” and believed it had the power to pull together “all the existing dramatic groups” and in addition, “dozens of others” including “neighborhood people as well as residents.” [26] She quoted Ogden as saying, “I’d like to tie up all these little crotchety groups we’ve got here at Hull House, get ’em to work together on one big project that is as socially significant as all Hell.  Get a lot of residents in on it too. Be good for ’em.” [27]

One of the residents who joined the project was Donna Hodgmanโ€™s husband, Crosby, who was asked by Ogden to take the part of the streetcar conductor. [28] “All Hull House now waited, breathless and highโ€”and I too,” Donna wrote. A week before the preview performance the whole concept clicked for Donna: “Now at last I saw the stage with five levels . . . and the blackouts. I heard the music and the speech chorus. I saw little short skits on all sorts of subjects because all subjects belonged to Halsted Street the longest street in Chicago.” [29] 

Donna repeated the choral lyrics: “All race . . . all creeds . . . all colors . . . all degrees. Halsted Street was everything and everybody: Chicago and the world. Love was on Halsted Street, and fighting, and stealing, and dirt, and joy, and nobility.” [30] 

The chorus of Halsted Street sang out: “Jane Addams saw and faced and met/These things that are to show/Hull-House must see, and face, and strive to meet. There’s a keener fire under the melting pot right now/Than culture. It is common need.” [31] The message of the play is that the issues of industrial democracy have immediacy in this era of the Great Depression and provide the experience all share: “This is our living, all around us/ This is neither Negro Mexican nor Greek/ Nor Jew, Italian, nor Irish/[32]

Halsted Street previewed on May 19, 1939, to an audience of Hull-House Associates, a group that Charlotte Carr had put together to develop national support for the settlement. Dr. Robert Morss Lovett, a former Hull-House resident, who now taught literature at the University of Chicago and was the editor of the New Republic, was the main speaker at the dinner that evening, followed by the production of the play, Halsted Street. [33] Following the preview for an audience who could pay one dollar for a ticket, the play was scheduled for the neighborhood, with tickets priced at fifteen cents.[34]

For Donna Hodgman, the play was a success: “Hundreds of people acted the parts of their own lives; hundreds of others saw, and could not avoid the knowledge that they saw themselves.” [35] She counted the success in the fact that “the warring factions of Hull House had learned to work together on a single project with unprecedented success. We knew that Mexicans, Negroes, Italians, Greeks, and just plain Americans had, for a little while, stood shoulder to shoulder.”[36] Yet a play is never the panacea for what ails an institution like Hull-House in 1939. Three years later the Hodgmans left. Donna had been completely exhausted by her Hull-House job as House Manager.[37]

 Jess Ogden, who felt that with Halsted Street they had “reached the saturation point” on pushing issues of social significance, turned once more to using the stage as a way of “getting all those warring groups working together.” [38] His production of The Pirates of Penzance included “almost everyone who had anything to do with Hull House” and was a triumph in cooperation “all the more significant” since Ogden left the settlement in 1941, one month before the opera was produced.[39] His leaving was the result of continuing budget problems. It also signaled the end of Hull-House’s engagement with the rhetoric and style of the New Deal experiment with theater for the people. The following year, Charlotte Carr ended her five-year affiliation with Hull-House. In a dramatic and public declaration, Carr announced that she had been fired and accused the Hull-House trustees of censoring her political activities. While the trustees denied that Carrโ€™s political activities were the reason for the break-up, her radical stances were definitely part of her conflict with the board.

Halsted Street reflects the pre-war New Deal Era; although we do not have a complete script of the play, what has been preserved clearly indicates the cultural and political point of view of the residents and staff whose support from federal funding allowed them a significant degree of independence to produce what, by 1942, might appear to be too controversial a production.ย  The hope of American democracy and the overwhelming faith in the diverse people of the neighborhood to transcend their differences and forge a better world calls out to us from the fragments of the script, the handwritten stage directions, and the descriptions of the production contained in the unpublished manuscript by Donna Hodgman. In 2003, the play continues to evoke a sense of cosmopolitanism, of the dignity of work, and of the richness and promise of our nationโ€™s immigrant foundations.


[1] Donna Hodgman, “A Vast Vagueness,”p. 1. People Live At Hull-House, unpublished ms., 1943, JAMC.

[2] “A Vast Flowing Vagueness,” p. 30.

[3] “Minutes,” October 27, 1938, Board of Trustees, HHA, HHA Records, JAMC, Special Collections, University Library, University of Illinois at Chicago.

[4] “Minutes,” February 24, 1938, Folder 5, HHA Records, JAMC, Special Collections, University Library, University of Illinois at Chicago.

[5] Ibid.

[6] “Minutes,” January 21, 1928, Folder 5, HHA Records, JAMC, Special Collections, University Library, University of Illinois at Chicago.

[7] “Minutes,” January 27, 1939, March 24, 1939, September 22, 1939, January 26, 1940, December 17, 1941, January 28, 1944; Russell Ballard to Alma Petersen, October 21, 1952, Alma Petersen Correspondence Folder 309, HHA Records, JAMC.

[8] get citation.

[9] “Minutes,” December 1, 1942, HHA Records, JAMC.

[10] Hennie Reynders, [Hull-House Theatre Development: Management, Space and Buildings] from his essay “The Hull-House Theatre as Prosthetic Extension of Settlement Ideology, 1898-1933,” unpublished essay, 2003.

[11] Edith de Nancrede, “Dramatic Work at Hull-House,” Neighborhood (January 1928).

[12] Helen Tieken Geraghty, “Plans for the Work: The Development and Organization of a People’s Theatre at Hull-House,” typescript, 1939, Geraghty Collection, JAMC, Special Collections, University Library, University of Illinois at Chicago.

[13] “Press Release,”1939, HHA Records, Folder 355.

[14] Hodgman, “Paint It White,” p. 15.

[15] “Press Release,” 1939.

[16] Ibid.

[17] Wm. P. Schenk, “Chicago Poems by Carl Sandburg,” Halsted Street file, Folder 355, HHA Records, JAMC.

[18] Halsted Street file, Folder 355, HHA Records, JAMC.

[19] Patrick Schmitt, “The Chicago Federal Theatre Project: 1935-1939,” M.A. thesis, Communication and Theatre, the Graduate College of the University of Illinois at Chicago Circle, 1978.

[20] Milton Mayer, “Charlotte Carrโ€”Settlement Lady,” Atlantic Monthly (December 1938): 741-748.

[21] Bryan and Davis, 100 Years At Hull-House, p. 229.

[22] Dewey R. Jones, “Integration at Hull-House,” in Bryan and Davis, 100 Years At Hull-House, pp. 230-231. This piece was excerpted from Jones’ report in the March 15, 1939, Minutes of the executive committee, Division on Education and Recreation, TMs, 7-9. Welfare Council of Metropolitan Chicago Papers, Box 145, Folder 1: Minorities. Manuscript  Collection, Chicago Historical Society.

[23] Jones, “Integration at Hull-House,” p. 231.

[24] “Confusion and Recovery: 1935-1962” in Bryan and Davis, 100 Years At Hull-House, pp. 211-212.

[25] Jean Carter and Jess Ogden, Everyman’s Drama: A Study of the Noncommerical Theatre in the United States. New York: American Association for Adult Education, 1938, pp. 66-67.)

[26] “Paint It White,” p. 15.

[27] “Paint It White,” p. 15.

[28] “Paint It White,” p. 15.

[29]

[30] Ibid.,  p. 17.

[31] Halsted Street typescript, p. 7.

[32] Ibid.

[33] Minutes, April 19, 1939, Board of Trustees, HHA Records, 

[34] “Paint It White, p. 17.

[35] Ibid., p. 18.

[36] Ibid., p. 19.

[37][37] Christopher Hodgman, M.D., “At Hull-House As A Boy, 1936-1942,” unpublished memoir, 2003.

[38]Hodgman, “The People,” p. 18, in “People Live at Hull-House.”

[39] Ibid., p. 19. Ogden joined the Extension Program of the University of Virginia and worked in the field of Adult Education. He was also active in the community theatre movement.

Research in Jane Addams

Iโ€™m dividing my talk into two parts to describe the two resources for studying Jane Addams of which I have a role:

The first is the reference book Women Building Chicago 1790-1990:ย  A Biographical Dictionary, published by Indiana University Press in 2001. I am the co-editor. The handout Iโ€™ve prepared lists the Hull-House women, their allies, and women from the Near West Side of Chicago โ€“ in the vicinity of Hull-House โ€“ whose biographies can be found in WBC.ย  A special feature of the separate biographies is that each one is followed by a substantial source paragraph that describes primary as well as secondary sources that were used in preparing the entry for our book.ย  Our hope has been that such attention to primary sources โ€“many not used before by scholarsโ€”will bring new generations of researchers to this material thereby promoting a new agenda for the history of women in the United States.ย 

Why do these circles of women who intersected with Jane Addams in Chicago have value for re-discovering or rethinking her life and significance? Her meaning in United States history? Her place in womenโ€™s history? Her influence on social reform movements of her time?

The infrastructure of reform women in Progressive Era Chicago has been understood in a general way; Hull-House and Jane Addams have been viewed by historians including Kathryn Kish Sklar, Helen Lefkowitz Horowitz,ย  as a central place for the personal and collective agendas of social feminists. Here women found a way to pursue meaningful engagement after college, to reconcile the family and the social claims of their mid-Victorian backgrounds, and to find support for enterprises they undertook which were creative and innovative.ย  The womenโ€™s political culture which blossomed in the Progressive Era has also been described yet much more can be said about the participation of women in the political agendas of Progressivism. Our ten years of research on the lives of Chicago women demonstrated how immigrant women, African American women, Jewish and Catholic women all had parallel networks and, at different times, these coalitions of women intersected with the American born, white Protestant, middle classย  and affluent women generally associated with the womenโ€™s political culture and with social and reform movements.ย 

Our aim in cross-referencing Jane Addams with other Chicago women is to plant her firmly and deeply in the infrastructure that, in fact, she influenced and was influenced by — to place her in the social environment of her times rather than to view her in isolation from these complex political, social and reform networks.ย 

This brings me to the second resource I want to mention today.ย  That is the Near West Side History Website, presently under construction at the University of Illinois at Chicago, of which I was recently appointed Interim Director.ย  Our new title: The Urban Experience in Chicago: Hull-House, Hull House and Itโ€™s Neighborhoods, 1889-1963, describes the focus of our website: the โ€œsoilโ€ in which Jane Addams and Ellen Gates Starr planted their experimental โ€œseedโ€ โ€“ and began a new process in the United States, the process of โ€œsettlingโ€ ; — Using historical photographs, maps, surveys, census reports, archival documents, printed materials and newspapers, books and magazines, architectural plans, art work, virtual reality 3-D reconstructions, and street tours we will utilizeย  the phenomenal technology of the website to visually and textually build the socio-economic and geographic, physical and cultural spaces of the Near West Side.ย  Narrating the events and participants of Hull-House in this thick description of the neighborhoods in the settlementโ€™s vicinity, we want to fully explore its social history; in this way we plan to โ€œlinkโ€ Jane Addams to the women and men who made up the political, social, and reform infrastructures that were at work locally and nationally.

The strength of our website is in our use of local documents, often one of a kind and difficult for scholars to find without spending large amounts of time in Chicago-area depositories and archives.  We are a website that provides an in-depth, one of a kind collection of an urban neighborhood, one which so it happens, has received from the 1890s on, enormous attention from journalists, reformers, social scientists, public health officials, and from the local leadership of settlements, religious institutions, ethnic organizations, and municipal agencies.  For example, we are able to connect the early development of the playground and recreation training from Hull-House and its first male resident, Edward Burchard, to the construction of parks and recreation centers throughout Chicago and to the development of the courses given by the Civics and Philanthropy School, the precursor of the Recreation Training School in Chicago and the School of Social Service Administration at the University of Chicago.  Photographs of the parks, annual reports, articles in magazines and newspapers allow users of the website the opportunity examine through what might be termed โ€œcase studiesโ€ the way in which urban neighborhoods were actually transformed through the implementation of new concepts of cultural and recreational space first experimented with at Hull-House.

Again, the local papers of other settlements in Chicago speak directly to Jane Addamsโ€™s connection to their endeavors, as do writings by leading residents of settlements throughout the United States.  The local scene on the Near West Side can reveal the dynamics of this absorption and dissemination of new ideas. [show text of Henry Booth Settlement]

We know that Addams was a talented and prolific writer whose articles in magazines such as the Ladies Home Journal popularized her ideas.  The Near West Side site brings to scholars primary materials which will address Addamsโ€™s style of leadership as a social and political activist and as a coalition builder and even as a model of democratic behavior in an ethnically, religiously and racially diverse urban community.

And now, a final point about the nature of archival resources and the opportunities and dangers of websites.  This seems a good place to bring up the issue of historical editing of photographs and other visual images. We have what is called a jpeg library for our website of more than 5,000 scanned-in images. Among these are many images of Jane Addams and her Hull-House colleagues.  Some are similar or the same images that appear in Swarthmoreโ€™s photography galleries on your website, and Iโ€™m sure, there are many websites with images of Jane Addams.  In preparing our jpegs for linkage with our website, we have come across lots of documentation questions: inaccurate or no dates; inaccurate or missing identifications of others in shots with Addams; inaccurate captions written on photos either at the time the image was originally taken or at a later date (and we donโ€™t know for sure when); inaccurate information from archives themselves about the original photos they own. Websites, like any other reference works, ought to comply with the highest standards of historical editing.  Even more so, since the proliferation of mis-information is more rapid and far-reaching when the mistake is on the internet highway.  So, Ellen Skerrett, project coordinator of our site, has prepared a short visual presentation that underscores both the increased opportunity for exchange via the internet, and the need for a collective effort in which we should all engage to share information and reconcile conflicts in our documentation regarding images.

We are showing you a series of portraits of Jane Addams, each one in comparison to others found in different archives, has a problem.ย  In focusing in on what some might consider just a minor detail, the chi-ro cross worn by Jane Addams in portraits taken between [ ] and []. As Ellen points out, in the Swarthmore photo which we think is the same image as one we have, i.e. the 1892 Alice Kellogg Tyler portrait, Jane Addams is definitely wearing a pin; while the outlines of the Chi-Rho cross are clearly visible in our image, itโ€™s hard to make out in the Swarthmore photo.ย  Was it shaded in over time? Deliberately? Accidently? No writer on Addams has mentioned her wearing of this Christian symbol or has tied it with another settlement head resident, Mary E. McDowell, who also wore a Chi-Rho cross.ย  Was it worn to signify a sisterhood of settlement women?ย  After we do not find this pin in photos of Jane Addams.ย  Was there a reason she stopped wearing it? There are differences of opinion among scholars about Jane Addamsโ€™s religious affiliation and beliefs.ย  Can this photobiographical detail add any insight about this aspect of her life?

The Social Gospel of Ellen Gates Starr, 1880-1920

This post was written by Dr. Rima Lunin Schultz in June 1997, and presented at the Episcopal Church and Archives Conference, “Mine Eyes Have Seen the Glory: Anglican Visions of Apocalypse and Hope.”

Hull-House, the social settlement Jane Addams founded with Ellen Gates ย Starr in 1889, has come to symbolize one of the most successful and creative responses to the problems of industrial society ever undertaken. Much of what happened there is credited to Addams’ leadership and she remains a figure of national and international importance in the fields of social reform and peace.ย  In comparison, Ellen Gates Starr remains a supporting character whose claim to fame is that she was there at the beginning. Indeed, for Starr, the settlement was only the start of a lifelong journey to translate her radical idealism into everyday practice; it was the first of many initiatives Starr tried out in her quest to make her professed faith in Christianity a living, breathing organic part of herย existence. The following is the story of the way in which Starr’s religious convictions formed her radical consciousness and emboldened her to take great risks for her ideals.

Ellen Gates Starr was born in 1859 to an abolitionist family from New England, who had settled in Illinois.ย  As a young girl her father’s involvement with the local grange and his advocacy of a cooperative system over the vicious competition in America sensitized her to view the individual in the social context. Intellectual freedom prevailed in the household as well as strong support of women’s equality; her sister Mary became an artist, her brother William a sculptor; two cousins were art photographers and another cousin, Beatrice Starr Jenkins, became anย architect in Chicago. (1)

Her father’s sister, Eliza Allen Starr, had a profound influence also.ย  A New England Unitarian spinster who converted to Roman Catholicism in 1854 and became the leading exponent of Catholic Art and literature in the Midwest, her art studio near the Cathedral church in downtown Chicago, was one of the few places where books and reproductions of medieval and renaissance religious art were available. Eliza Starr advocated the social purpose of art in modern society fearing that the human spirit was at risk in the industrial environment. Supporting herself as a writer and lecturer on art and religion, she ran an art school. (2)

Thus Starr already had an appreciation and sympathy for catholic liturgy and art when she arrived at Rockford Seminary where she was required to attend daily chapel services and weekly prayer meetings in preparation for a traditional Protestant conversion experience. Immediately Starr knew this was not her route to religion. With family resources limited, Starr remained at Rockford for only one year, planning to reenter another college later.ย  She began teaching school, first in a small country town near her family home and in 1879, in Chicago. The next four years wereย difficult ones; she grappled with her religious feelings, in 1881 attempted to prepare for the Harvard Annex (Radcliffe College), and that same summer, ย suffered a nervous breakdown that forced her into inactivity for several weeks.ย  This was a period of experimentation with visits to a variety of churches, wide reading in English literature (Dickens and George Eliot), history and philosophy (Carlyle and Ruskin), and studies in Anglicanism including Maurice and Kingsley. In 1883 Starr joined the Episcopal Church with some hesitancy but profoundly desirous of getting on with her life. (3) She looked to her friend, Jane Addams, to sort out what that futureย might hold.

Ellen Starr had met Jane Addams the year she studied at Rockford College. The friendship continued largely through letters in which the two discussed politics, literature, religion and what was the major preoccupation of them both, the quest for useful, morally significant work. This quest for a vocation, not just employment, was fraught with a variety of concerns.ย  Both women were in their mid-to-late twenties; they were not interested in marriage.ย  Well-read, consumed by intellectual ideas about life rather than by experience, they formed a bond with each other in their desire to chart a new, unconventional course. (4)

In 1887 Addams invited Starr to accompany her to Europe and Ellen accepted Addams’ offer to pay her expenses. (5) An intense experience, Starr loved European art and traveled to religious shrines including Monte Cassino and Assisi. She was inspired by what she observed about the Benedictine Rule when she visited Monte Cassino. The idea of work as prayer captured her attention as dramatically as Jane Addams’ attention was captured when she visited Toynbee Hall settlement in the East London slum. After their return from Europe the two women began to plan a similar venture in Chicago. The two saw Toynbee as the answer to both personal and reform goals: they could create a “home” for themselves and also do meaningful work. “Jane’s idea which she puts very much to the front and on no account will give up,” Starr wrote, “is that it is more for the benefit of the people who do it [settlement work] than for the other class [the poor in the slums].ย  She has worked that out of her own experience and ill health.” (6)

While Starr and Addams agreed that they both “needed” the settlement as much or more than the people in the neighborhood “needed” such a place, it is not clear whether or not they held the same vision about what the settlement would actually do.ย  Or, perhaps at this early stage neither one had a clear sense. At age thirty-one Starr was already more preoccupied with working out the message of the social gospel she embraced in her desire to be a good Christian. In her mind the settlement would be a place where a religiously grounded fellowship addressed her concern for social as well as personal holiness. This difference in motivation was significant and within three years it was clear to both women that they had different goals for the settlement and themselves. As a practical matter, the two divided up the work of the settlement with Starr devoting herself to art, literature, and crafts, a result of her interest in Ruskin and Morris and the Arts and Crafts movement and Addams became the public spokesperson for the idea of the settlement as well as its fund-raiser.

On the personal level Starr and Addams distanced themselves from the emotional bond they had initially forged. How much their clash over Starr’s emphasis on the religious aspects of the settlement idea brought about this wedge is difficult to measure. Addams’ friendship with Mary Rozet Smith, who assumed the role of Jane’s closest and most intimate friend signaled the change that had taken place on the personal level. (7)

With the arrival of Julia Lathrop in 1890 and Florence Kelley in December 1891, Hull-House embarked on the road of social science. (8) Jane Addams and Julia Lathrop were already exploring this direction and Kelley’s knowledge of European Marxism and her university training in economics fostered a turn away from the Christian socialism expressed in Starr’s approach. Kelley and trade union leader Alzina Parsons Stevens began to collect statistics for the Illinois Bureau of Labor on the sweatshops that proliferated in the Hull-House neighborhood. (9) The factory inspection act passed in 1893 gave credibility to the investigative approach, although in the long run it would take decades before the courts outlawed sweatshops.

Lathrop and Kelley constructed moral arguments on behalf of less privileged social groups, immigrants, workers exposed to industrial hazards, women and men working more than ten hours a day, poor families generally, and child laborers, and they appealed to the State to become more activist in the protection of these groups. (10) Hull-House Maps and Papers, published in 1895 exemplified the way in which the new science of human relations was used by Hull-House women reformers with articles reporting research results on sweatshop labor, child labor, and labor organizations for working women.

Starr’s contribution, “Art and Labor” was a contrast: anti-capitalist and anti-modernist, Starr warned that it was not enough to fight for wages, you had also to fight for the soul of man against the commercial and industrial world that was crushing him. Her writing is starkly different than what develops as a maternalist-social science argument for the State assuming the protection of those who are weak.ย  Starr, unlike the majority of women progressive reformers, did not base her social justice arguments on maternalist reasoning.ย  She neither singled women out for special protection nor did she believe that women’s differences came out of essential nurturing qualities that, when expanded to societal problems, enhanced their capacity to bring about social transformation. (11)

In contrast to the others, she was searching for something close to a sacramental community that men and women settlement workers and poor people would share together, but both the church and the settlement were neglecting the religious function in modern society: the settlement in its increasing secularism; and the church in its neglect of “social holiness” in favor of “personal holiness.” (12)

Remaining a resident at Hull-House, Starr carved out her own space and developed a support system in Chicago and elsewhere to sustain her sense of a community of social holiness. (13) Even her room at Hull-House was more like a monastic cell than a bedroom in a Victorian home. She rose early every morning and either attended religious services at a neighborhood Catholic church or had private prayer and meditation. (14) Jane Addams, Starr reported, had accused her of “running after strange doctrines.”(15) She had her local chapter of the Society of the Companions of the Holy Cross, (SCHC) a lay order of Episcopal women dedicated to social justice. It provided a corporate intellectual and spiritual life, a sisterhood, that included her friend Vida Scudder and others.ย  Starr missed this at Hull House where, by the 1890s, the earlier custom of group prayer inaugurated by Starr had been replaced by a women’s political culture that had little place for corporate forms of worship and barely tolerated Starr’s religious activities.

Starr was drawn to Vida Scudder and her writings on St. Francis. Starr and Scudder became leading exponents of a self-consciously and openly religious approach to reform. They saw the settlement as a model for an alternative value system which spurned the material rewards of American society for a new ‘Franciscanism.’ Starr, Scudder, Social Gospel theologian George Herron, Episcopalian priests W. D. P. Bliss, R. Heber Newton, and James O. S. Huntington believed that a reordering of society had to take place and those who controlled wealth and property had to recognize their sins of greed and selfishness.ย  They had to see that their luxury depended on the misery and privation of oppressed workers. (16)

By the 1890s Starr had found solace and support at Denison House in Boston with Scudder and Helen Dudley and spent time in Boston away from Hull-House affairs.ย  The Denison group was influenced by Huntington, whose spiritual counsel could be seen in the development of the Companions and in the maturation of Starr’s religious ideas. (17) Huntington was a frequent guest at Hull-House prior to 1892 when the direction of the settlement was still malleable, although Starr’s request for his appearances met resistance from the more secular residents.ย  What was missing, obviously, was the cross-class alliance: a community of believers that was not class segregated. (18)

Reality and the opportunity to create this community of believers entered Hull-House with the arrival of neighborhood garment workers who were encouraged by the settlement residents to use the meeting rooms for union meetings. Trade unionist Mary Kenney became a resident.ย  In 1896 Starr participated in her first garment workers’ strike. Immediately demonstrating her desire to identify with the strikers, Starr organized relief for the workers and with Mary Kenney rushed ahead to St. Louis, Missouri, to meet a train headed for Chicago with scabs brought in to break the strike.ย  Starr and Kenney boarded the train in the middle of the night and at breakfast lectured the men on the conditions that led to the strike. ย Persuaded, the men joined the union and offered their support.ย  The strike was lost and Starr turned her attention to relocating blacklisted strikers and exhorting tailors to keep the union intact despite their losses. (19)

This was her first real engagement with the violence of labor disputes.ย  Frazzled and exhausted, she left for New York for a prolonged period. She had operated so differently from Jane Addams who had been approached by the Chicago Civic Federation to call for arbitration for the strike. (20) This was the beginning of a lifelong pattern for Starr: she rejected roles of arbitrator, mediator, or negotiator between the classes just as she had rejected the role of social science observer and institutional bureaucrat. Her radical idealism interpreted the social gospel message rather literally.ย  She determined that her fate would be with the oppressed and the downtrodden. Starr had no trouble identifying which side to join and she did so with religious zeal.

These involvements, however were exhausting and somewhat artificial. Starr not only identified with the cause of the worker, she wanted to be a artisan herself. In the summer of 1898 Starr sailed to England for a fifteen-month apprenticeship with Arts and Crafts bookbinder Thomas James Cobden-Sanderson. (21) She had decided to become a worker and teacher, to identify more closely with the poor by taking up manual labor, and to teach others to find joy andย  dignity in the simple life of a craftsman.ย  This way she would protest the economic arrangements of modern industrial capital.ย  When she returned wealthy Hull-House patron Mary Wilmarth provided Starr with funds to set up a bindery. Unfortunately, only two or three students a year were able to study, the materials were costly, and Starr was forced to work on commissions for wealthy patrons. (22) It was a terrible irony not missed by Starr.

Starr turned to what appeared a more fruitful agenda: organizing women for the Women’s Trade Union League (WTUL).ย  Other non-workingclass reformers and settlement residents had searched for ways to help American workingwomen.ย  The traditional male craft unions were reluctant to organize women, assuming that they were unreliable, transitory workers who would leave work to marry.ย  In addition, immigrant women had filled the sweatshops and, in the eyes of the male artisans, had contributed to the deskilling of the garment industry. (23) Young women, on the other hand, found it difficult to enter the world of male trade unionism because of the masculine culture of the union hall; often meeting rooms were above saloons.ย  Ellen Starr and other settlement reformers saw a need to come to the aid of working-class girls who they knew were exploited at work and ignored by the labor movement. The WTUL was organized in 1903 to assist in the organization of women wage workers into trade unions.ย  With the cooperation of Samuel Gompers and the AFL, the organization was permitted and actually encouraged, membership of non-wage-earners.ย  WTUL branch chapters agreed to affiliate with AFL central labor committees. The first slate of officers in 1903 included: Mary Morton Kehew, a socially Bostonian, president; Jane Addams, vice-president; Mary Kenney (O’Sullivan), secretary. (24) In Chicago the local chapter of the WTUL organized at Hull-House. (25) Tensions between the wealthy and middle-class allies and the trade union women existed from the beginning. The allies advocated investigation of factory conditions, legislative lobbying, and educational classes, activities many trade union women considered derivative from a focus on direct organizing.ย  On the national level, Gompers’ ambivalence about the role of non-workers in the union continued to plague the allies in the WTUL. (26)

Starr continued to work through the Episcopal Church for social change in these years, primarily with the Companions. Among the mainline denominations, the Episcopal Church was the most visionary in its rethinking of the conventional economic theories of laissez-faire capitalism and the application of Jesus’ social gospel to the contemporary wage labor system was a radical departure, even when conceived in the context of a non-violent system of mediation between labor and capital rather than a revolutionary end to private property.ย  Yet the church continued to be an exclusive community of wealthy parishioners whose connections to the ruling class were undeniable.ย  Here was a church able not only to produce James Huntington and Vida Scudder and, in its capacity to allow differences to flourish, gave these Christian Socialists the space to grow.ย  But the church was also one of the major institutional strongholds of private property.ย  It represented wealth and the power wealth had to shape the society.

Ellen Starr heard Charles Palmerston Anderson, bishop of Chicago during the garment workers’ strikes, tell propertied Episcopalians that when men used the might of money to stand out against organized and disorganized women and children over the principle of collective bargaining, they were taking a position not endorsed by the Christian church. “I believe in God,” he told his flock, “therefore I believe in the right of bargaining.” (27) The same Bishop Anderson was adept at businessmen back to Christian activism and encouraging them to join the Laymen’s Missionary Movement; at home in Chicago he set the tone for an activist, red-blooded and masculine Christianity by incorporating the leading capitalists who were members of Episcopal congregations in decision-making at the highest diocesan-wide level. Anderson, like social gospelers Walter Rausenbusch and Washington Gladden, had not called revolution or the end to private property.ย  They had accepted the need to include associations of workers at the table with capitalists and, along general Christian ethical principles, negotiate from within the system to benefit labor and capital alike. (28)

For Starr this was too conservative an answer. “How can we tolerate it that life should go on so–all the suffering of little children, all the waste and squalor and brutality and misery of a system which might be changed,” she wrote a friend. “Nothing is worth thinking of at all in comparison to that.” (29)

Mainline Protestants were in general agreement by 1900 that the church and religion were about “here and now.”ย  “We are beginning to realize,” wrote an Episcopal churchman in the diocesan newspaper, “that the Church and religion are concerned chiefly with men and women in this life, with their daily duties and obligations; that if we live as God would have us live in this world we need not be anxious about the world to come.” (30)

What continued to depress Ellen Starr, however, was the failure of the social gospel message to ignite a radical transformation inside the churches and, without that, there was little hope for change in society as a whole. Most laborers worked in oppressive conditions and lived substandard housing.ย  With seasonal layoffs and economic depressions children and women as well as men worked to survive. The churches were doing enough because their members, the wealthy and powerful, were not motivated to change the way the economy actually worked. When Starr returned from the Society for the Companions of the Holy Cross summer conference in 1909 she felt the gap between the words that were spoken at the highest levels of ecclesiastical institutions and the conditions of the poor.ย  Attending services with other Episcopalians became increasingly difficult as she felt surrounded by privilege and social pretension.ย  She had written earlier, “The Ancient Egyptian priests had one religion for themselves and another for the people, and how like them we often are.” (31) It hurt her the way civil rights activists were hurt and resented theย segregated churches they attended, especially when lip service was given to the movement for racial equality.

Starr began to attend Catholic parish churches in the Hull-House neighborhood because she identified with the poor. (32) Now she decided to look closely at what Roman Catholicism might offer her.ย  In her case, this transition was not out of character; she was drawn to the ceremony, the mystery, the symbolism of Catholicism.ย  In 1907 she collapsed from nervous exhaustion and spent a month in a sanitarium followed by weeks of recuperation. ย Struggling with depression, she was disappointed in her failure to expand the bindery at Hull-House into a successful employmentย venture. At age forty-nine having had her application rejected for residence in a communitarian experiment in Tennessee run by Huntington’s Order of the Holy Cross, she went abroad to live in relative isolation on a farm in Ireland. She came back to the States in 1909 to begin a new life. “I… went to pieces and decided I was a failure.ย  But I did have the vitality left to ask God to give me another chance–an eleventh hour chance to serve.” (33) But she continued to wander from church group to labor union, from Socialist Party politics to private tutoring from a Roman Catholic priest who gently, persistently, patiently counseled her and deflected her abusive criticism of the Roman Catholic hierarchy until she was ready to convert. ย (34)

In all this, Starr continued to actively participate in the labor struggle. In 1910 when a group of courageous women walked out of their shop at Hart, Schaffner & Marx in Chicago, they ignited the spark caused the unorganized workers in Chicago’s male-dominated establishments to rise in rebellion against their employers.ย  Starr, as a member of the WTUL picket committee, promptly joined strikers on the picket lines, patrolled the streets, and served as a witness in court for strikers arrested without due cause. (35) As the strike dragged on Starr appealed everywhere for support of the strike, including the Christian evangelical community where she successfully obtained endorsement for the strike from the Laymen’s Evangelistic Council. The Episcopal Diocese of Chicago also endorsed the strike. (36)

Shortly after the Garment Workers’ Strike Starr joined the Party, and while it was a far cry from the genteel utopian visions of William Morris or the Fabians, Ellen Starr had come a long way from the inexperienced dreamer who had begun Hull-House in 1889.ย  Starr fit in with the Marxist, hard-line, predominantly immigrant organization and although middle-class social workers were discouraged from joining, by 1915 she was serving on the Cook County Socialist Party’s executive committee. (37) She was able to do this even while deepening her commitment to Christianity. For Starr, her labor union radicalism seemed to draw her more deeply into her faith, or perhaps, the arduous task of standing up for the workers, against the wealthy and powerful, could only be endured by her through the strength of her religious convictions. It was her vision of the implementation of the social gospel here on earth that continued to inspire and sustain her as much as the realities of oppressive conditions stirred her rebellion. When she ran for alderman of the Nineteenth Ward as a socialist she explained her credo: “I became a Socialist because I was aย Christian.ย  The Christian religion teaches that all men are to be regarded as brothers, that no one should wish to profit by the loss or disadvantages of others…that none should enjoy ‘two coats’ while others are coatless. Civilized life is in grotesque contrast to all this.ย  Only socialism promised to put down the mighty from their seats and to exalt the humble and meek; to fill the hungry with good things and to send the rich, if not quite ’empty away,’ at least relieved of some of their unnecessary and arrogant fulness [sic].” (38)

In the textile strike of 1913, Starr battled the manufacturers to help the workers secure sixty percent of their demands. It was her first successful strike and buoyed her for her next foray into the eye of the storm.ย  On March 6, 1914, at age fifty-five, Starr was brought to trial on a charge of disorderly conduct stemming from her behavior on the picket line at a waitresses’ strike in Chicago. She had shouted at the police, who had unjustly ย arrested three waitresses on picket duty, “I am a citizen and as such protest this arrest.”ย  The crowd became excited and it was reported that they shouted “Kill the police.”ย  Bail was provided by Mary Wilmarth longtime friend and patron of Starr and Hull-House; her son-in-law, Harold Ickes, served as Starr’s trial attorney and, after eight hours deliberation at its conclusion, a jury found her innocent. (39) Within a few months of her trial she sailed to Europe to make another tour of the medieval shrines, revisiting Assisi and the Benedictine monastery at Monte Cassino.

The Amalgamated Clothing Workers of America (ACWA) strike of 1915 was a different experience, and placed Ellen Starr in the difficult position of disagreeing with almost everyone but the strikers themselves and a few radical friends. This strike, unlike earlier ones, did not receive the support of the Women’s Trade Union League (WTUL) or the American Federation of Labor (AFL), two of the strongest labor organizations in the nation and, in times past, allies with Starr.ย  AFL president Samuel Gompers urged his followers not to support the garment strikers led by Sidney Hillman’s ACWA because it had seceded from the AFL-affiliated United Garment Workers 1914. Gompers argued that Hillman’s defection threatened union unity. During the course of the strike, from October to December, over 1,700 strikers were arrested and two were killed.ย  Starr herself was arrested several times for “inciting a riot” and insisted on a jury trial to bring the facts to the public. (40)

In the end neither side won a decisive victory. The manufacturers’ association created to oppose the ACWA signed no agreements and refused to submit its differences with the strikers to arbitration.ย  The centrist head of the American Federation of Labor and one of, if not the most powerful, labor leaders in the United States, Samuel Gompers, debated Ellen Starr in the pages of the New Republic. Distrustful of middle-class allies whose interests could never be the same as the working class, and increasingly hostile to socialists, he told Starr to stay out of labor’s business. Starr blamed the loss on the “heavy hand of Mr. Gompers.”ย  Without AFL support the strikers had to depend upon middle-class allies. (41)

The strike had been a failure but out of it, radical union leaders of the two leading garment unions, the International Ladies’ Garment Workers’ Union and the Amalgamated Clothing Workers of America had won control from conservative union officials. The new union leaders, as well as the rank and file, demanded that their union reflect their own special vision of society, a cooperative commonwealth in which justice and equal opportunity provided the guiding principles.ย  Women union leaders especially called for programs to expand the cultural, intellectual, and social horizons of their members.ย  Starr, praised by its president, Sidney Hillman, was made an honorary member of the ACWA for her role in the union’s success. (42)

Ellen Starr’s battle with the Episcopal Church most likely was more difficult that going against Samuel Gompers.ย  In some ways Gompers, who did well with the conservative social gospel churchmen, (43) was more like the propertied leadership than the rank and file strikers she had met on the picket lines.ย  At any rate, tired and reluctant to attend General Convention in 1919, she had been persuaded by her longtime friend Vida Scudder to attend. Nineteen-nineteen was the year the church launched its nation-wide campaign as part of its organizational restructuring.ย  In the 1880s Christians hoped to apply the Golden Rule to the social problems of industrial America to save society.ย  In the 1920s, business methods were brought to the church to save Christianity.ย  Like other corporations, the church had become nationalized; social gospel work was now coordinated in a department of social service. A fund was created to operate the new bureaucracy. (44)

Starr was sixty-one at the time of her conversion to Roman Catholicism. Becoming part of a Catholic intellectual community in Chicago, she joined a circle of educated Catholics who shared her interest including Jacques Maritain and Etienne Gilson, both in residence at the University of Chicago, hardly the common folk in the parish churches, but in many ways the closest intellectual relatives to the Anglo-Catholics of her youth. ย Always the maverick, she defended Lenin and the Russian Revolution, read Gerard Manley Hopkins, and made appeals for Sacco and Vanzetti’s commutation from their death sentences.ย  Increasingly, ill health and simple old age kept Ellen Starr from more activist involvements

She affiliated herself, finally, with a Benedictine monastery and became an oblate in the third order of St. Benedict. (45) She died in Suffern, New York in 1940.

By 1920, a conservative, non-socialist “social gospel” had been incorporated into mainstream Protestantism as the institutions of Christianity began to take on the organizational structure of the business corporation itself.ย  The “social gospel” of the twentieth-century church recognized religion’s social service responsibility to a broad public but no longer pitted itself against the social injustices of industrialism.ย  In essence, the social gospel had become a generalized acceptance of institutional religion’s connection with the social life of the nation. By 1920 Ellen Starr saw little hope in organized religion’s revolutionary potential.

Starr was uncompromising, self-critical, and ultimately, a minority voice who saw in the successes of progressive social reform the death of the revolutionary gospel spirit that had awakened her conscience and whole generation of idealists in the 1880s and 1890s. In 1892, only three years after its opening, Starr accused Hull-House of being merely “an excuse for the things we ought to do and be and don’t and aren’t.” (46)

“We” was not a figure of speech; Starr was self-critical and uncompromising in the demands she made of herself.ย  She was also prophetic.ย  Few of her generation remained true to the radical idealism inherent in the social gospel message; the majority became convinced that social legislation, collective bargaining and the expansion of political rights could make the economic system more democratic and alleviate the worst abuses of industrial capitalism.ย  Theirs was a quest for a social ethic that would mediate between the classes, not end the class structure; would negotiate among the competitive elements in society, not end competition; and would apply a secularized social gospel message as a civic platform.

Starr held fast to the conviction that a fundamental reordering society must take place. This reordering could not come without a spiritual renewal of the individual leading to the restructuring of society to a collectivist and religious social ethic. Starr found all the institutional structures to which she gave her devotion and commitment ultimately incapable of bringing about this reordering–neither the settlement house, the Socialist Party, the labor movement, or the Episcopal Church were able to give the kind of leadership and support Starr had hoped to find.

Endnotes:

(1) Polly H. Ullrich, “Women in the Arts and Crafts Movement of Chicago: 1877-1915,” M.A. Thesis, Department of Art History, Theory, and Criticism, School of the Art Institute of Chicago, 1994.

(2) Archibald J. Byrne, “Eliza Allen Starr,” Notable American Women 1607-1950. A Biographical Dictionary. Edward T. James, Janet Wilson James, and Paul S. Boyer, editors. Harvard University Press, 1971, vol. III, 350-351; the Rev. James McGovern, The Life and Letters of Eliza Allen Starr. 1904.

(3) Elizabeth Palmer Carrell, “Reflections in a Mirror: The Progressive Woman and the Settlement Experience,” Ph.D. dissertation, The University of Texas at Austin, 1981, 92, 100-101.

(4) Jane Addams, Twenty Years at Hull-House. New York: Macmillan, 1910. See Starr-Addams Correspondence in Ellen Gates Starr Papers, Sophia Smith Collection (EGS/SSC), Smith College. See: Jennifer Lynne Bosch, “The Life of Ellen Gates Starr, 1859-1940,” Ph.D. dissertation, Miami University of Ohio, 1990.

(5) Carrell, 109.

(6) Ellen Starr to Mary Blaisdell, Feb. 23, 1889, EGS/SSC.

(7) Jennifer Bosch, “The Life of Ellen Gates Starr,” 76; Carrell, diss., 177-178.

(8) Kathryn Kish Sklar, “Hull-House Maps and Papers: Social Science as Women’s Work in the 1890s” in Martin Bulmer, Kevin Bales, and Kathryn Kish Sklar, eds., The Social Survey in Historical Perspective 1880-1940. New York: Cambridge University Press, 1991.

(9) Carolyn Daniel McCreesh, Women in the Campaign to Organize Garment Workers, 1880-1917. Garland Publishing, 1985, 65; Residents of Hull-House, Hull-House Maps and Papers. Arno Press & The New York Times, 1970 reprint.

(10) Sklar, 117-118.

(11) I come to this conclusion because the absence of writings or activities between 1880 and 1920 on the part of Starr in relation to women’s organizations or the suffrage question.ย  Addams takes on major leadership roles in the suffrage battle after 1900 and writes important popular arguments in the maternalist vein in favor of women voting. Starr appears not to have been involved. Female social gospelers such as Frances E. Willard, a Christian Socialist and the president of the Woman’s Christian Temperance Union, linked their arguments for the coming kingdom on earth with a special role for morally superior women.ย  Starr makes no arguments of this nature.

(12) Ellen Starr, “Settlement Life,” 1896, Society of the Companions of the Holy Cross. She describes an almost mystical relationship in which settlement workers enter into the life of the community.

(13) Looking at “List of Members,” S.C.H.C., in 1884, 1887, 1888, 1890, 1892, 1894, Ellen Gates Starr is listed for the first time in 1894.

(14) Carrell, 134-135; Mary Prentice Lillie Barrows, “God and My Mother,” mss., 312, Box 3, Frances Crane Lillie Papers, Chicago Historical Society.

(15) Ellen Starr to Mary Allen, c. 1894/95, EGS/SSC, Box VII.

(16) Vida Scudder, On Journey. New York: E. P. Dutton & Co., 1937, 240-241; Carrell, 3; Ellen Starr, “A Bypath into the Great Roadway,” Catholic World vol. 119, May 1924, 179.

(17) Ellen Starr, “A Bypath into the Great Roadway,” 179.

(18) Huntington had great difficulty balancing the demands of his contemplative life with settlement work. In 1892 the Order of the Holy Cross left the East Side of New York and settled in rural Maryland. D.G. Paz, “Monasticism and Social Reform,” Historical Magazine of the Protestant Episcopal Church, vol. XLVIII, #1, March 1979, pp. 56-57.

(19) Carrell, 233-234.

(20) Ibid.

(21) See Eileen Boris, Art and Labor: Ruskin, Morris, and the Craftsman Ideal in America. Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1986.

(22) Carrell, 301-305.

(23) Elizabeth Payne, Reform, Labor, and Feminism: Margaret Dreier Robins and the Women’s Trade Union League, University of Illinois, 1988. This book discusses the Chicago league and its relationship to Hull-House residents.

(24) McCreesh, Women in the Campaign to Organize Garment Workers, 86-88.

(25) Payne.

(26) McCreesh, 66-67; 125-127.

(27) Charles L. Street quoting Bishop Charles P. Anderson, Memorial Sermon, The Diocese of Chicago, 1936.

(28) Rima Lunin Schultz, “The Making of An American Church: Cathedral Ideal and Parish Realities. The Episcopal Church in Illinois, 1834-1946,” unpublished mss., 1986. Archives, Episcopal Diocese of Chicago. See especially chapters eight and nine.

(29) Carrell, 343.

(30) The Diocese of Chicago, April 1910, 10.

(31) “Chicago’s Hull-House,” Report on the Address by Ellen Starr, 1895, Hull-House Scrapbook, III, JAMC.

(32) Carrell, 344.

(33) Starr to Wager, Hull-House, February 12, 1917, EGS/SSC, Box VIII.

(34) Carrell, 398-400.

(35) Women’s Trade Union League of Chicago, Official Report ofย the Strike Committee, 10.

(36) Official Report of the Strike Committee, Garment Workers’ Strike, Oct. 29, 1910-February 1911, Women’s Trade Union League, Microfilm, Chicago Historical Society.ย  Thekla Ellen Caldwell, “Women, Men, and Revival: The Third Awakening in Chicago,” Ph.D. dissertation, University of Illinois at Chicago, 1991.

(37) Carrell, 357.

(38) Clipping, “Why I am A Socialist: Miss Starr to Stick in Race,” February 10, 1916, Ellen Gates Starr Biographical File, Chicago History Museum.

(39) Carrell, 357-358.

(40) McCreesh, 218-220. The exchange of letters between Gompers and Starr were published in the New Republic January 1916- March 1916.

(41) Ibid.

(42) Carrell, 364.

(43) Elizabeth and Kenneth Fones-Wolf, “Trade-Union Evangelism: Religion and the AFL in the Labor Forward Movement, 1912-1916” in Working-Class America: Essays on Labor, Community, and American Society. Michael H. Frisch and Daniel J. Walkowitz, eds., University of Illinois Press, 1983.

(44) Schultz, “Making of An American Church,” 561-562.

(45) Carrell, 412-413.

(46) Carrell, 30.