Dedication: The difficulties experienced during the Progressive Era varied from labor rights to women's rights, and health concerns, which can be overwhelming to reformers who want to make a difference. Perseverance is key to resolutions, as change is a journey, and doesn't happen immediately. If the reformer were to give up at the sight of opposition, no change would occur! The way to cope with these immense struggles is to find a community, perhaps of fellow reformers, who share the same philosophy. Confiding in others allows for innovation and discoveries to be brought to light. As learned from "The American Dream", many women were confined to a small number of jobs to choose from. This is because the perspective of women during this time was that they were inferior and incapable of "hard work". 

Continued:  Thankfully, this negative view changed throughout the Progressive Era because of women's associations and suffragists. Unfortunately, the struggle remains as inequality is still a problem in America, for both women and other minorities. An example is the pay gap, which was also an issue during the Progressive Era, and has significantly decreased, but is still sadly present today.

Table of Contents:

Page 3: Journey To America

Page 4-5: Ellis Island

Page 6-10: "The American Dream"

Page 11-14: The Road of Politics

Page 15-: Progressivism Changed My Life

    These first few days of the journey shook me to my core. The stench of deceased rodents and rotten food became too much for my body to handle, combined with the rough sea outside jerking the ship forward, backward, and forward again. I have never traveled outside of my home, Devonshire, England, a small country town, and this journey made me question why I ever left. But, I kept repeating to myself about the wonders of America; freedom and opportunities! This hope gave me the strength, along with my family, to push forward. Without the constant support from my family; my mother and brother, I don't believe I would've made it the whole 6 days. Although I attempted to keep an open mind, the wave of doubt was still secure in the back of my mind; What if we cannot get it? But I cannot dwell on the "what ifs ", I choose to face my fears with the rest of my family by my side.    

Journey to America:

    I was awoken from my slumber due to our ship jamming into the side of the dock. At first, I was annoyed by this event, since I only got three hours of sleep, due to the wind storms that manipulated the route of the ship, causing the crash in the end. But soon it came to me, we had landed in America! I shot out of my nest on the floor and alerted my brother of the news, as the wreck did not wake him. As my family was awake, we darted towards the exit to beat the crowds of fellow immigrants, but we were too slow. As my time came to exit the ship, the first thing I saw as I peered out the door was the glorious, bronze Statue of Liberty! My jaw dropped in amazement, it's as tall as 100 cows stacked upon each other! My mother scolded me for daydreaming, as I normally do, which brought me back to reality. As we were caught in the line of exit, I noticed how many immigrants were attempting to reside in America, sending chills down my spine.  The amount of competition was frightening, it would be impossible to permit everyone into the country!

Ellis Island:

     My mother saw my worry and assured me that we had the necessities to enter the country. Her confidence allowed me to calm down, and anxiously wait for our turn. "NEXT!" The police officer shouted. My mother and brother walked ahead of me as they checked our belongings and clothes, after they were done a big "X" was written on all of our coats. I assume that this is a good thing, as the officer didn't say anything negative towards the three of us as we walked to the next line. While I was waiting in line, a sickly-looking mother was pleading and screaming for forgiveness as the officers took her to another room. Confused, I asked my mother why she was taken away, to which she replied; "Dear, the woman had tuberculosis and pox running up her legs, she has to be quarantined until she can enter." A plethora of questions consumed my head, and as I was going to ask, the man behind the desk yelled, "NEXT!" The combination of emotions made me speechless as the man asked for my name, date of birth, and origin. I stood there blankly until he asked again in a strict tone, "I am Devon Smith, and I am 16 years old. My home is Devonshire, England."

    As he continued questioning my family with further questions, thankfully, my hesitation wasn't suspicious enough for the man to deny our entry in comparison to our documents.  "Alright, you are free to go." the man said. Those words were music to my ears, we had made it into America! After our long, dreadful journey containing decaying animal corpses, molded foods, and wind storms, we made it, all of us! 

    Unfortunately, the optimism was short-lived. As soon as I stepped foot onto American soil, my whole perspective of life as I knew it, changed. America was not at all what I expected it to be. The wonderful land of New York City, the same streets where economic dreams come alive, and opportunities fill the air, was utterly depressing. 

"The American Dream":

    As we could not afford a carriage ride or a streetcar, we had to walk to our housing. The streets were filled with waste, manurer, and even carcasses of a variety of animals. My stomach retched as I stepped on a dead mouse, its guts and blood scurried along the sidewalk, and nobody batted an eye. Is this considered normal in America? "Good god Devon! What did you do? You ruined your perfectly good shoes!" announced my brother at the sight of the incident. My mother just sighed, knowing she would have to muster up enough cash to afford new shoes. All of our savings were drained from the voyage over, the transportation to get to the ship, as well as all the food we bought for the journey overseas. We still managed to conserve about one loaf of bread, which is only enough food for a day.  My stomach continuously growled throughout the treacherous trip to my new home, becoming increasingly uncomfortable with every step I took.

    After two hours of walking, we finally arrived at our destination, which came to be a shock. My brother led the way, as he purchased the house in his name since my mother cannot own property in America. Oddly enough, my brother was also surprised by the condition of the "house" we were staying in. The shabble roof seemed to cave in on the left, and through further investigation, I noticed an opening between two of the panels, causing a leak. But that wasn't all, the tenement, was only one small room, with no restroom! As I explored further I spotted a bucket outside, near the entrance of the house, that reeked of waste. At least I knew what the bathroom was replaced by.

    A woman in the neighboring tenement came outside to see the commotion, I could tell by her face and clothes that she did not partake in washing herself, perhaps because of the lack of running water. "Ay. Whatcha' doing around these parts missy?" said the lady in a thick Irish accent. I explained my backstory, and how I was an immigrant, like herself, who aspired to start fresh in a new country. "Oh ya, an English ay? Well nice to meet ya, I'm Carroll. Say have ya gotta job yet? Ya can work as long as ya 16, but the laws aren't enforced."

Her accent made it difficult to decipher what she was saying, but I heard the word job, which caught my attention. "No ma'am I have not, do you know of any looking for workers?" Carroll smiled and replied, "Well that's why I was askin' ya, some lady sewed her fingers together at the textile factory, and they're lookin' for nice, young girls with sewin' experience. I already tried to get the job, but they said my old hands were too shaky to sew" I could feel the light radiating off my face from excitement, and I asked her for any details she had about the position. "It's a 20-minute walk from here, and talk to the man with the blue top hat, he's the boss of the place. He's an English too, so I think he'll like ya!" Carroll exclaimed. I thanked her for the valuable information and headed off after telling my mother about the opportunity. My mother, as cautious as she can be, was skeptical about the job and was worried about my fingers. I assured her that I was responsible and darted off towards the factory.

The Road to Politics:

As I stepped inside the factory, I saw the bright blue top hat Carroll was talking about, I couldn't miss it! He was hovering over the workers sewing away, and I noticed that all of them were younger women, some under the age of 16. The boss saw me from across the room, and smiled in response, to be polite. As he started to walk towards me, I went through a checklist of my qualifications that could land me this job, as I have sewed before. "Oi, who are you and what are you doing here?" He said with his arms crossed. "My name is Devon Smith, and I'm here for the sewing position, sir. I have sew-" "Oh, my apologies, come with me to my office." he interrupted. The first thing I saw once I walked into his office were political cartoons and posters filling the walls, all of which had the words "Bull Moose Party" with the name "Vote for Theodore Roosevelt" underneath. As well as this, on his desk was a nametag that read "Charles Taylor Jr." "So, have you worked in a factory before?" The boss bluntly asked. 

"No, sir, but I do have sewing experience. I used to be a seamstress in my hometown in England." I replied. "Wonderful! You meet my standards. You will be paid 25 cents daily, and can you start today? We are low on staff and I need these shirts done by the end of the week!" Charles exclaimed. Overwhelmed by the shock of the situation, I agreed, as I didn't know when I would find another job, especially at my age! "Great! The ladies will teach you everything" Charles stated as he leaned back in his chair, signaling me to leave. As I walked into the workroom, none of the women looked up, as they were preoccupied with sewing. I saw an empty seat next to a lady with gorgeous flowing black hair, she seemed to be around my age, so I tapped her on the shoulder and told her I was new, and unsure what needed to be done. "You know how to sew?" she asked, and I nodded. "Alright, I'm just cutting out the sleeves, would you mind sewing the pieces together?" I agreed and sat down at the machine, and began working away. My first day was alright, because the lady next to me, Charlotte, was talkative, which was entertaining.  

She answered all my questions about the job and even my question regarding the posters in Charles' room. "Oh those, ha! He follows Roosevelt like a moth to a flame! Don't tell me you've never heard of him..." Charlotte answered. I shook my head no, I don't know anything about American politics! "Oh dear! Charles could talk about it for hours, as he is a Progressive." My confused face made her explain what a "Progressive" was. "That's why we only have to work eight hours, instead of twelve, he's the opposite of a robber baron, aha! He even supports women's suffrage, odd for a man. That's why I applied for this job, I'm a Progressive too." Charlotte said confidently. It surprised me how many people in the factory openly shared their political beliefs, most women were Socialists, but a minority were Progressives, according to Charlotte. Progressives advocated for more than voting rights, they also fought for the protection of public land, child labor, and public health. Back in England, everyone was private and secretive, you couldn't get any information out of them!