Life was tough for immigrants in the late 1800's and early 1900's.  Wages were low.  Work days were long.  Employers could easily replace injured or troublesome workers since more arrived at Ellis Island each day.  Internal conflict also beset families.  Parents and grandparents hoped to preserve their cultural traditions while sons, daughters, and grandchildren were anxious to become "real" Americans.

Mr. Gorman's class learned about the immigrant's experiences and wrote historically-based fictional journals and letters portraying typical situations faced by newcomers to our country.
 
 

We just arrived in America, and they are writing down our names. Papa is coming to get us in a few hours...We just got to our home, and tomorrow, I get to go to school for the first time because in Poland, school wasn't free...I went to school for the first time today.  I really liked it but the kids made fun of me for the way I talked...I have been going to school for many days, but when I got home father was hurt and he had to quit his job so I got my own job to help my mother pay rent...And now we are not as poor as we were, and now I'm happy to be in America.

 The date is November 14 1874.  Today was my first day at school, I was so excited!! During school, the other kids made fun of the way I talked.  One day after school, I came to talk to my father in English, and he slapped me because I wasn't speaking Polish.  I felt very hurt.  Since my dad got hurt at work, I took his place at the slaughterhouse.  I was so happy when I first got paid.
 
 

My father sent us a letter and told us that we could come to America now.  Everyone wants to go to America.  I was so happy.  My father had gone about three years before to make money and find a place to live.  In my family, my father and I are the only ones who can speak a little bit of English.  Then my father said that I had to go to school.  I felt so nervous.  I was finally going to be an American.  After my first day of school, I came home and I could say a whole sentence in English! I was so proud of myself.  Grandmother is calling me.  I have to go.  Bye!

Dear Babushka,

Everyone wants to come to America, so I can't believe I'm actually here.  Here in America, they have things we never had, like electricity.  I was real nervous about coming here,and also sad to leave you, but it's just something that had to be done.  Immigrants here are not always treated well. But school is free, and I'm learning English.  Dad's getting paid and everything is ok.

Now I am very old.  I have a family and everything.  I am retired and happily living.  My son is a salesperson.  my grandson goes to college.

I came to America as a Polish immigrant.  My parents made only $6.00 or $8.00 to support our family, and children at my free school were not kind to me.  I became more and more discouraged every day.  When my mother died, I was forced to go to work as a young child.  I felt judged and out of place.  The only thing we had to believe in was Jesus for there were Christians here too!

When I came here, I was amazed at how many immigrants came here.  I saw many from cultures such as Jewish, Italians, Irish, and many more.  My sister is a hard-working servant to some rich folks up the way.  I am very mad because my father was hurt at work and the owner has already found someone to replace him.  I love America but I also miss Poland a lot as well.

When we came over, the boat stopped at Ellis Island, we were all so excited. After we were approved, we met daddy. We were happy to see him. When we moved to America, I know a little English, like the address of our apartment. I started going to school, and the other kids were meant to me. It made me feel confused and alone. Mother got a job and earned $ 6 a week. My sister also got a job, earned $3 a week plus meals. When father lost his job, I was overwhelmed because I knew I would have to get a job.

The trip was fine. As you know, father went first to raise money. Then he sent for us. There were so many people on the ship and so many different breads. It was amazing! It’s hard to get along over here. Everyone makes fun of me because I’m foreign. They’re so harsh! They couldn’t even wait a little while for my father to get better from breaking his hip in the factory! I had to work while he got better, except he never did. So I’m still working to hold up the family. Well, how are you?

Dear Mom,

America is a very hard place to live. I am made fun of for my accent and can’t speak the language very well. But I have a job and am making enough money for food and a place to live. Soon I will have saved enough money to send for you to live with us. Over time things will start getting better.

Immigrants of the same cultural background tended to live in close proximity to each other during the late 1800's and early 1900's.  These ethnic neighborhoods, or ghettos, helped newcomers unfamiliar with America and English to survive in a complex, bewildering new society.  Ghettos also helped immigrants preserve the cultures of their homelands.  Ghettos were not without problems though.  New immigrants were often poor, and cultural conflict arose when parents clashed with their children, who were usually more eager to assimilate into American culture.

Mr. Gorman's classes wrote historically-based fictional journals reflecting life in a ghetto c. 1900.

I woke up in the middle of the night, and my parents were fighting. They were fighting about me, about me going to work. My dad was hurt today and he couldn’t work anymore. If I didn’t work, my family would starve.

I always feel very cold at nights sleeping because he have no heat.  In the summer, my family and I feel so tired and hot from work.  We have to sleep on the fire escape to keep cool. But we always keep our hope.

I am a child from Russia who moved to America. Like my family, many Jews started coming in the 1880’s. Most of the people moved to the ghetto in New York. I was very scared because I did not know English. I was sad because my father made barely enough to support us. Everyday he came home tired. He was very angry because he had to work less hours now. Someday, I hope to get out of the ghetto. 

I’m now a little bit happier here. I can walk into my own house and walk somewhere without the threat of being beaten or killed, but I still mess home, my friends, and the nest of my family. I promise to save enough to at least bring my family over here. 

I’m feeling very hopeless. I work everyday and nothing seems to get better. I have to say it’s a whole lot better here than in Europe. I don’t have any mobs to worry about. My child doesn’t want to speak our family’s language anymore. He calls us greenhorns. This makes me sad. Soon my oldest daughter will work so we can get more money. But for now, it’s just me.

I moved to America to get a better life. I moved to the ghetto to be with my own people. The streets were very crowded. My house did not have heating or hot water. I had to get a job in a sweatshop to support my family. Many of my neighbors got sick and died. My friend is a peddler and he only makes $2.70 on a good day. Life in the ghetto is sad, tiring, hungry, and sickening.

I work in the sweat house with my dad. He is always sick. My mom and my sisters stay home and sew clothes. My mom gets depressed because of the heat and the fact that we have to sleep on the roof. My big brother is a good peddler and my dad is proud. My dad has to work nineteen hours a day, but I only work for fourteen hours.

Hi, I am an immigrant from Russia I moved here with about four million other Jews in  the1880s. My family is very poor. We have to live in the Jewish ghetto and the ghetto streets were crowded so it makes you feel lost. The houses have no heat or water. My father is mad because he does not make enough money. So we feel so hungry. Most of the people have worked in factories. So they get very sad when they don’t get paid a lot. So you can see life in the ghetto is very hard.

How come I can’t work for more than ten hours.? My family is going to starve earning only seven dollars a week. It is not going to be enough. There are a lot of people in the streets most trying to make a living, but sometimes annoying people are yelling. I feel kind of lost mostly, and I don’t know what to do next.

Journal,

My family immigrated from Eastern Europe in 1880, when most Jews came to the U.S. None of the people at school have any idea what it is like. They tease me constantly. The streets are so crowded there’s barely any room to walk. I feel so alone. In the winter, my family has to huddle around a stove to keep warm. Like most people in the ghetto, my family is poor. It feels like there’s no hope for my family and me. Everyday I come home from school angry because of what the kids say to me. Last night I was so fed up I called my mother a greenhorn.