From the moment I joined the YCL, and for the next 77 years, I can truly say that I have never had a moment when I had nothing to do. There were always picket lines for workers on strike, demonstrations to demand food for a hungry family, knocking on doors to sell the Daily Worker or bringing people out to vote. There were many meetings, parties, dances and dinners to attend or plan. We worked to bring people together and raised the money to organize. There were also books to read and articles to write. All of that, of course, was in addition to the basic need to work for a living and the joy and work of raising a family.
Membership in the Young Communist League was a time of commitment, comradeship and exploration. I must admit that our high school YCL meetings went on for hours. We kept getting off the subject. It could take four hours to decide the date for a protest rally because most of the time we were playing around and not getting down to business. We hung out together but did not pair off although we kind of knew who had a “crush” on whom. Our high school YCL provided a group social life for us teenagers that required no money. It was depression times (1933) and we were all short of money, really short. My friends’ parents were low-paid factory workers, often unemployed. I was among the poorest because my family was on relief and my parents were ill.
That was the time of the rule of the nickel, 1/20 of a dollar. The dollar has lost so much of its value, there is now (2009) talk of discontinuing the penny. The nickel may be next. But in 1933, the nickel was King. It got you on the subway train, made a phone call, and paid for a big candy bar that substituted for lunch. Candy bars are much smaller nowadays. I had to laugh at myself one night when I tried to open my apartment door lock with a nickel. Using the pay phones was itself a challenge. My family could not afford phone service so we did everything face to face. After I became a student activist, I could not avoid making phone calls. At first I was nervous. Would I handle the technology correctly? Would I know how to talk into a phone?
As a busy member of the YCL, I somehow found time to attend classes at The Workers School downtown. I remember how fascinated I was when I ran across Frederick Douglas’s autobiography in The Workers School library. I could not leave until I finished the whole book. Of course, I got hungry. But there was a candy machine in the hallway. I put a nickel in and the machine emptied itself in my arms. What to do? Mercifully, I don’t remember what I did. I must have solved that moral dilemma in the right way, because it is not on my conscience. I remember only the bonanza of all that good eating. No wonder I lost most of my teeth in old age.
We YCLers also organized some classes for ourselves. In good weather, we met in the park. In between playing ball and just running around, we studied Marx and Lenin. We took turns reading out loud. After each page, we would stop for a discussion. Everybody had something to say. In recent years, we tried that with four or five working women. It is still a good way to learn and probably had its origin in the 19th century workers’ reading circles.
One of the ways we spread our message was to hold outdoor meetings on streets with heavy pedestrian traffic. We also used these meetings to raise money for our YCL work. Instead of a soapbox, we carried a short ladder and a US flag. We believed that the display of the flag made our public meeting “legal.” In a short time a curious crowd gathered. The challenge was to capture and hold their interest. If the speaker fumbled, the crowd would leave. One approach was to talk about the Nazi takeover of Germany. Workers were very nervous about fascism. Could it happen here? Word of Nazi atrocities and death camps for Jews was trickling through. I, myself, had many nightmares of Nazis chasing me in Europe. I used to wake up in a sweat but happy to realize it was only a nightmare.
At our street-corner meetings, I talked about how Hitler won over many frustrated youth in Germany. These young people had never had a chance to work and to learn the lessons of unity on a job. Millions of young Americans, too, I warned, had no chance to work and to learn about labor solidarity. The Young Communist League, I said, was bringing unemployed youth the message of unity and the need to fight racism and fascism. Then we passed the hat with good results. Periodically, an El train would pass overhead. If I stopped talking, the crowd would leave. So I out-yelled the train. Maybe that is why my voice is so weak today.
A reliable resource for my YCL club was the Communist Party club in my neighborhood. We turned to them when we needed money to buy paper for a leaflet. It was a thrill for us kids to attend the grownups’ meeting and explain why we needed a leaflet. In no time, a collection was made and they raised a whole dollar. A dollar bought a lot of paper in 1933! The serious atmosphere at the Party meetings impressed us. We looked forward to growing up and joining the Party, the Big League. We also had the help of one of our high school teachers, Isador Begun. To write this page, I did a Google search for Begun. No wonder Begun was so helpful. About the time we were fighting for free speech, he was leading a fight for democracy in the Teachers Union. But that went over our heads at the time.
In April 1933, our YCL led hundreds of Monroe High School students in the National Student Strike for Peace. Things continued to move quickly. By June, I was among the student leaders who were removed from the school against our will. We were transferred to Morris High School some distance away. It was a smaller school without a swimming pool and they did not even teach French! Everything at Morris High School was on a smaller scale than at Monroe. But Morris High did have one resource that Monroe High School did not have. Morris had a wonderful Physics teacher, Irving Mossbacher.
to be continued...
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