//literary and arts//
Fall 2019
Fall 2019
Old Buildings, New Politics
Noah Friedman-Nathan
Orchard Street on the Lower East Side seems like any other loud, bustling New York City street. But, in reality, it is far from it. Orchard Street preserves the memory of the past, while simultaneously exuding contemporary appeal. As you make your way down Hester Street, you arrive at an enticing brewery, “Merchants and Advocates of Great Beer”. Home to a plethora of artisanal beers to taste and enjoy after a hard day’s work, the brewery stands as a major gathering spot for the community. It sits in the shadow, however, of a towering, five-story tenement building across the street. This is the building which dominates the block, making Orchard Street so distinctive.
As part of a first-year seminar at the Jewish Theological Seminary about Jewish migration, I went on a day trip to explore the former hub of Jewish immigration: the Lower East Side. The main attraction of the tour was the Tenement Museum, the iconic building on Orchard Street. The museum allows thousands of visitors each year to experience a taste of the difficult life of immigrants living on the Lower East Side from the mid-1800’s through the the turn of the century. Many Eastern Europe immigrants during this time came with little-to-no money, barely spoke English, and faced discrimination upon arrival. Their dire economic situation forced many of the immigrants, often referred to as greenhorns, to live in crowded and dilapidated tenements because rent was more affordable there. The museum preserves that moment in time, keeping the history alive.
From the moment I walked in with my classmates, I felt the narrow halls and short ceiling closing in on me. My claustrophobia was palpable throughout the tour as we moved from room to room and began to try imagining living like this for years. Each apartment consisted only of a minuscule living room, kitchen, and bedroom, where families as large as seven would reside. With the assistance of Camila, our tour guide, we studied first-hand accounts from immigrants about the day-to-day struggles they faced while trying to live ‘normal’ lives in such abnormal living arrangements. While I was busy envisioning the lives of these nineteenth-century immigrants, Camila introduced an unexpected valence to the narrative: contemporary politics. I was struck by her comparison between the Jewish immigrants who lived in the tenements and the modern-day American immigrants and laborers. Long after the tour had ended, I found myself thinking about the relationship between these two immigrant histories. The discussion raised a broader question about modern tourism etiquette: how does one incorporate his or her stance on modern-day issues into the way one learns about history? To what extent can we talk about the past through the lens of present-day conflicts?
Camila introduced the issue of workers’ rights and labor unions into our tour. As we walked from room to room, she addressed the poor working conditions of the Jewish immigrants, who worked in small sweatshops, which were usually housed in the tenements themselves. The greenhorns were forced to work shifts as long as fourteen hours, with little pay, in often unbearable weather conditions. Day in and day out, as their hands froze in the frigid winter cold, the sweatshop workers sewed garments for the factories. In the summer, they dripped sweat from intensive labor done in small, confined rooms, with little-to-no ventilation. Camila vividly described the living conditions of the immigrants as a segue into comparing their experiences to workers’ rights today. While today, workers in America are overall treated with more respect and fairness, many are still taken advantage of in the workplace due to their socio-economic status, immigration status, race, and/or gender. Camila alluded multiple times to the way Amazon CEO Jeff Bezos has created a poor working environment that strips his employees of dignity. Camila’s takeaway was that our frustration towards the treatment of Jewish immigrants should instill within us similar discontent with the treatment of workers today.
Many people face the uncomfortable lack of empathy when trying to relate to the sufferings that took place before they lived. A classic example of this is with respect to the Holocaust. When I, like many others, visited concentration camps such as Auschwitz and Majdanek, I was struck by the inability to shed tears as I stood at the sites of some of the most heinous crimes done by mankind. People tell you that there is no right way to feel when visiting such sites, but I still felt that reaction was not sad enough. Upon reflecting on my experience, it was difficult to conjure up such feelings, having lacked any direct experiential connection to what took place. Though the circumstances were obviously drastically different, the same dilemma was evident during our tour of the tenements. But, by relating the issues Jewish immigrants faced to modern day issues it, in turn, made their struggles more understandable to a group of college students living nearly a century later.
On the one hand, the power that modern day events have on our ability to relate to events and tragedies that would otherwise feel distant is incredible. On the other, it is dangerous to present contemporary topics, which are heavily debated, to the past because of the disparity between the two in context, magnitude, and setting.
Camila saw an opportunity to enliven a historical narrative by infusing modern-day struggles into its retelling. She did so in the hope that it would further our connection to the men, women, and children that worked tirelessly to help establish the thriving American Jewish community that we know today. The Tenement Museum tours on Orchard Street provide fodder for how to bridge the gap between the past and the present, so that we, as a society, can be best equipped to advocate for a better tomorrow.
As part of a first-year seminar at the Jewish Theological Seminary about Jewish migration, I went on a day trip to explore the former hub of Jewish immigration: the Lower East Side. The main attraction of the tour was the Tenement Museum, the iconic building on Orchard Street. The museum allows thousands of visitors each year to experience a taste of the difficult life of immigrants living on the Lower East Side from the mid-1800’s through the the turn of the century. Many Eastern Europe immigrants during this time came with little-to-no money, barely spoke English, and faced discrimination upon arrival. Their dire economic situation forced many of the immigrants, often referred to as greenhorns, to live in crowded and dilapidated tenements because rent was more affordable there. The museum preserves that moment in time, keeping the history alive.
From the moment I walked in with my classmates, I felt the narrow halls and short ceiling closing in on me. My claustrophobia was palpable throughout the tour as we moved from room to room and began to try imagining living like this for years. Each apartment consisted only of a minuscule living room, kitchen, and bedroom, where families as large as seven would reside. With the assistance of Camila, our tour guide, we studied first-hand accounts from immigrants about the day-to-day struggles they faced while trying to live ‘normal’ lives in such abnormal living arrangements. While I was busy envisioning the lives of these nineteenth-century immigrants, Camila introduced an unexpected valence to the narrative: contemporary politics. I was struck by her comparison between the Jewish immigrants who lived in the tenements and the modern-day American immigrants and laborers. Long after the tour had ended, I found myself thinking about the relationship between these two immigrant histories. The discussion raised a broader question about modern tourism etiquette: how does one incorporate his or her stance on modern-day issues into the way one learns about history? To what extent can we talk about the past through the lens of present-day conflicts?
Camila introduced the issue of workers’ rights and labor unions into our tour. As we walked from room to room, she addressed the poor working conditions of the Jewish immigrants, who worked in small sweatshops, which were usually housed in the tenements themselves. The greenhorns were forced to work shifts as long as fourteen hours, with little pay, in often unbearable weather conditions. Day in and day out, as their hands froze in the frigid winter cold, the sweatshop workers sewed garments for the factories. In the summer, they dripped sweat from intensive labor done in small, confined rooms, with little-to-no ventilation. Camila vividly described the living conditions of the immigrants as a segue into comparing their experiences to workers’ rights today. While today, workers in America are overall treated with more respect and fairness, many are still taken advantage of in the workplace due to their socio-economic status, immigration status, race, and/or gender. Camila alluded multiple times to the way Amazon CEO Jeff Bezos has created a poor working environment that strips his employees of dignity. Camila’s takeaway was that our frustration towards the treatment of Jewish immigrants should instill within us similar discontent with the treatment of workers today.
Many people face the uncomfortable lack of empathy when trying to relate to the sufferings that took place before they lived. A classic example of this is with respect to the Holocaust. When I, like many others, visited concentration camps such as Auschwitz and Majdanek, I was struck by the inability to shed tears as I stood at the sites of some of the most heinous crimes done by mankind. People tell you that there is no right way to feel when visiting such sites, but I still felt that reaction was not sad enough. Upon reflecting on my experience, it was difficult to conjure up such feelings, having lacked any direct experiential connection to what took place. Though the circumstances were obviously drastically different, the same dilemma was evident during our tour of the tenements. But, by relating the issues Jewish immigrants faced to modern day issues it, in turn, made their struggles more understandable to a group of college students living nearly a century later.
On the one hand, the power that modern day events have on our ability to relate to events and tragedies that would otherwise feel distant is incredible. On the other, it is dangerous to present contemporary topics, which are heavily debated, to the past because of the disparity between the two in context, magnitude, and setting.
Camila saw an opportunity to enliven a historical narrative by infusing modern-day struggles into its retelling. She did so in the hope that it would further our connection to the men, women, and children that worked tirelessly to help establish the thriving American Jewish community that we know today. The Tenement Museum tours on Orchard Street provide fodder for how to bridge the gap between the past and the present, so that we, as a society, can be best equipped to advocate for a better tomorrow.
//NOAH FRIEDMAN-NATHAN is a first year at Jewish Theological Seminary and the School of General Studies. He can be reached at nef2120@columbia.edu.
Photo Courtesy of Wikipedia
Photo Courtesy of Wikipedia