First let me tell you something about the way
we work and what we are paid. There are two kinds of work—regular,
that is salary work, and piecework. The regular work pays about $6 a week
and the girls have to be at their machines at 7 o’clock in the morning
and they stay at them until 8 o’clock at night, with just one-half
hour for lunch in that time.
The shops. Well, there is just one row of machines that the daylight
ever gets to—that is the front row, nearest the window. The girls
at all the other rows of machines back in the shope have to work by gaslight,
by day as well as night. Oh, yes, the shops keep the work going at night,
too.
The bosses in the shops are hardly what you would call educated men,
and the girls to them are part of the machines they are running. They
yell at the girls and they “call them down” even worse that
I imagine the Negro slaves were in the South.
There are no dressing rooms for the girls in the shops. They have to
hang up their hats and coats—such as they are—on hoods along
the walls. Sometimes a girl has a new hat. It never is much to look at
because it never costs more than 50 cents, but it’s pretty sure
to be spoiled after it’s been at the shop.
We’re human, all of us girls, and we’re young. We like new
hats as well as any other young women. Why shouldn’t we? And if
one of us gets a new one, even if it hasn’t cost more than 50 cents,
that means that we have gone for weeks on two-cent lunches—dry cake
and nothing else.
The shops are unsanitary—that’s the word that
is generally used, but there ought to be a worse one used. Whenever we
tear or damage any of the goods we sew on, or whenever it is found damaged
after we are through with it, whether we have done it or not, we are charged
for the piece and sometimes for a whole yard of the material.
At the beginning of every slow season, $2 is deducted from our salaries.
We have never been able to find out what this is for.
New York Evening Journal, November 28, 1909.
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hypertext: Diary of a Shirtwaist Striker
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