Today, I learned how Gov. Mitch Daniels' state cared for indigent widows, orphans, and senior citizens, whose families could not take them in, during the early 1800's, and it blew my mind.
I took my 15 yo son to Conner Prairie (a living history museum) on the north side of Indianapolis, today. It's a wonderful place - both educational and fun! Where else can a 15 yo get really excited about learning about the economics and processes involved in running an 1850's pottery business and learn how to throw a tomahawk?
Becuase I am both a science and social studies middle school teacher, my son is used to having his Spring Breaks filled with visits to historical sites and science centers, with me using the opportunity to slide some education in ... but today, we learned something together that left us speechless.
The lesson began with both of us noticing a public notice that read: Poor Person Auction
Under the public notice title, there were 3 people listed by name and circumstance:
Person #1 was "elderly"
Person #2 was "middle aged female" (I found out later that she was a widow)
Person #3 was a "13 year old orphan"
Wondering what in the world this notice could be about, I engaged the actor at the inn where it was posted. This was Indiana in the early 1800's. What in the world was going on?
The elderly gentleman who was minding the inn explained that he too had been "auctioned out;" it was simply what was done to care for those who could not care for themselves and who had no family to take them in.
The county would advertise an auction and people in the community would bid on taking the Poor Person in. The lowest bid would win, and the county would then pay the bidder that amount for feeding, clothing, and sheltering that person for the year.
I'll wait a moment while you try to get your mind around that.
Yes, if you were orphaned, widowed, or elderly without family to care for you ... your well being for the next year was dependent on the largesse of the lowest bidder.
I was so stunned, just imagining the indignity of having to stand in the public square as your neighbors competed with one another to see who would take you in ... presumably just after having had some sort of greivous personal tragedy happen ... that my jaw just dropped.
There it was.
Going BACK to a time in America before Social Security and Medicare. Going BACK to a market driven, you're-on-your-own America without the safety nets.
Now, don't get me wrong about judging the people back then. I'm a historian, and I can appreciate that life was hard in a little town. I'm actually quite impressed that even in that rather sparsely populated locale, at that time, they recognized that they did have a responsibility to care for the orphans, widows, and elderly in need. And, they did come up with a way to ensure that Poor Persons did not simply starve to death in the street.
But good God, we are NOT a remote, early 1800's American town!
As my mind settled around and began to understand this pre-Civil War Era approach, I became intrigued. The actors at Conner Prairie are very good. They stay completely in character and draw visitors into their world by "assuming" you too are part of their world. They have a depth and breadth with it that goes beyond what I've experienced at Jamestown or Williamsburg.
In fact, it reminded me of the time we "saw" Julius Ceasar in Stratford on the Avon and our tickets placed us on the actual stage. We were masterfully used throughout the entire play as "the crowd," as the the rest of the audience watched from above, in the round.
So, I decided to ask him, "How do you feel about these auctions and arrangement?"
With a twinkle in his eye, he grabbed my arm and explained that he had hopes of getting out of it. "Henry Harrison is up for election, and he was on a first hame basis with the man. He was planning on traveling to D.C. if he became President, so he could ask for a pension for the veterans of the War of 1812." [poor paraphase of the actual performance]
And, there was the last part of the social contract -- our veterans. He'd been injured in that war, and as he'd aged, the injury had made him disabled ... unable to do the hard physical work to fully earn his way anymore as a senior citizen.
He was hopeful a new President might honor his service to his country ... to give him a little something back, so he would not need to have his care be publicly auctioned to the lowest bidder. I asked him how he planned to travel there for this planned meeting. He assured me that he planned on walking the entire way if he had to.
Knowing that his supposed friend in the White House was destined to win but also only live for 32 days in office, I found myself once again speechless and mentally and emotionally lost.
I just looked at him -- in the eyes, and said, "Wow, thank you."
As a teacher, it was an incredibly powerful learning moment, and I had the wonderful, twin experience of both appreciating the lesson learned and the mastery of the teacher I had just learned it from.
I'd been so caught up in the learning experience myself that I'd forgotten my son. I turned at that point to see him with his brows furrowed and open jaw. As I looked at him, he just tilted his head and gave me a look of anguish as a tear went down his cheek.
"But Mom, he died."
I caught the actor's surprised smile before he caught himself. (Yeah, how many 15 year olds actually know Harrison died? But, I've also dragged this kid to Harrison's Tomb which is just across the river for a picnic, so he knows.)
I just looked at him and said: We must preserve Social Security, Medicare and Veteran's Benefits, by law.
And, the actor went back into role and asked, "What are those?"
We can not allow these laws to become, "What are those?"