Columbus and the Pinzón Brothers

You may remember reading in your high school history book that when Christopher Columbus and his fleet of three ships, the Nina, the Pinta and the Santa Maria, had passed beyond the sight of land, his crew threatened to mutiny. The were afraid that the ships would fall off the edge of the world or drift forever lost on the vast ocean, and they wanted to turn back toward the safety of familiar shores – but Columbus stood firm and declared that they would continue westward, ever westward.

It is a good story, and it has been repeated in endless variations. In some versions the mutiny is started because of a problem with the compass or a disagreement over how far the ships had traveled, but it always ends with Columbus staying on course despite a storm of doubts and fears. It is a powerful image, and it has served as a popular model for leadership.

Unfortunately, the story is not true.  At least there is no mention of it in Columbus’s logs or in the ships’ logs kept by Martín and Vicente Pinzón, who were captains aboard the Nina and the Pinta. Instead, all three captains tell us that when the ships were about half way across the ocean, the Pinzón brothers came on board the Santa Maria and convinced Columbus that they could make better use of the wind and travel faster if the three ships turned a few degrees to the south.

Columbus took the brothers’ advice, and saved the fleet from disaster. The journey turned out to be much longer than he had expected, and by the time they first sighted land, the fleet was almost out of food. The men were not near mutiny, but they were close to starvation.  If Columbus had not changed course, if he had continued "westward, ever westward" as the story tells us, then they would have reached land farther to the north and several days later, and Columbus and his crew would have been dead or dying.

The obvious lesson to the story is that a good captain does not stand firm when everybody else is telling him that the ship is off course. Rather, the first lesson of leadership is to hire good people – then listen to them.

The Offering and the Voice

In 1842 Charles Dickens visited the factories at Lowell, Massachusetts and wrote glowing praise for the progressive conditions that he found.  As a child, Dickens had labored in a London factory, and he compared the Lowell factories to the memories of his youth as the difference between “living light and deepest shadow.”  He found the factory workers healthy, clean and well dressed and the factory rooms had “as much fresh air, cleanliness, and comfort, as the nature of the occupation would admit.”  In particular, Dickens was impressed with The Lowell Offering, a collection of stories, articles and poems written and published by the factory workers.

It’s difficult to understand the impact that The Offering had on a nineteenth century audience.  Many people in England and Europe didn’t believe that factory workers could have the intellectual or emotional capacity to appreciate the literary arts, much less to produce their own work.  What’s more, The Offering was the first publication written and edited entirely by women.  Some denied that it was even possible while others celebrated it as proof of progressive ideals.

Unlike the factories in England, the factory system at Lowell had not been built to employ a permanent class of workers.  Roughly two-thirds of the employees were young women from New England farms who would work a few years before returning home or getting married.  So, in order to attract a continual supply of new employees the factories offered religious services, a lending library and lectures in science and the arts.  Many of these young women were well educated, and they enjoyed literature and poetry.  They often shared their own work with each other, and the best of these attempts were collected into a booklet, which became the first edition of The Lowell Offering.

Then in 1845 another magazine appeared in Lowell, and it painted a very different picture of factory life.  The Voice of Industry had been started in Fitchburg Massachusetts by the New England Workingmen’s Association, but it soon moved to Lowell where it was taken over by the Lowell Female Labor Reform Association.  It described life in the factories as twelve-and-a-half hours a day of monotonous, exhausting work that left the workers unable to take advantage of the educational opportunities that had impressed Dickens a few years earlier.  The factory rooms were dark, noisy and poorly ventilated, and the boarding houses were overcrowded and poorly maintained. 

Could conditions have deteriorated so much in only three years, or was Dickens simply wrong?

Anyone who has worked for a large company knows that not all work is equal and not all workers are treated equally.  Many of the early contributors to The Lowell Offering worked in the spinning rooms.  They held highly skilled jobs that paid an average daily wage of 56 cents.  Other jobs in the factories, such as dressing and carding, paid as little as 37.5 cents per day, and working conditions could vary as well.  So The Offering reflected the experiences of the best paid, most skilled workers.

On the other hand, Sarah Bagley, the president of the Lowell Female Labor Reform Association, was a weaver.  Weavers were initially paid 67 cents per day, but that wage had been set high to attract skilled workers.  By 1840 wages for weavers had gone down to only 50 cents per day, and in 1842 they were told they would have to tend two looms instead of one.  So by the time Bagley took over The Voice of Industry she had seen her wages cut by 25% and her and her workload doubled. 

In 1842 The Lowell Offering published an article by Bagley that was critical of factory conditions, but that same year The Offering was purchased by William Schouler, a friend of the factory owners and an opponent of labor reform.  Under Schouler’s ownership The Offering would no longer publish “controversial” material.  By 1845 in the first issue of The Voice Bagley denounced The Offering as a “mouthpiece of the corporations.”  The Offering ceased publication later that year

Dickens arrived in Lowell at a time of change.  The high wages and progressive conditions that had attracted workers twenty years earlier still defined the experiences of some highly skilled workers, but for others conditions had worsened.  The first protests over wage cuts had taken place almost ten years earlier, but the factory owners had become conscious of their own reputation.  From that time forward they would try to control which voices were heard and, presumably, what visiting dignitaries would get to see.

Environmental Justice

In 1994, President Clinton signed the "Federal Action to Address Environmental Justice in Minority Populations and Low-Income Populations” requiring all federal agencies to engage local communities in developing environmental policies that affected the health of their neighborhoods.  The goal was to ensure that poor and minority communities enjoyed equal protection from environmental hazards—at least that was the plan.  

It should surprise no one that the poor have often been relegated to the least desirable places to live, but in the 1980s minority communities began complaining that they bore a disproportionate share of the environmental hazards resulting from infrastructure projects.  Historically these projects had been developed by teams of experts who conducted impact studies and analyzed the potential long-term effects of environmental changes, but these experts seemed too often willing to sacrifice the welfare of the few for the enrichment of the majority.

In response, the environmental justice movement arose to give poor and minority communities a voice in civil planning.  Reformers argued that the people living in low income neighborhoods would be better able to identify the needs of their communities and to advocate on their own behalf.  However, the reformers often failed to provide these communities with the resources needed to research the health effects and environmental impacts of proposed projects.

For example, environmental action has traditionally focused on large, single point polluters like factories of waste treatment facilities, which are the primary sources of pollution in rural and suburban areas.  However, most air-borne pollution in urban areas comes from car exhaust and diesel burning engines used in construction and shipping, and low income communities are often located near commuter roads and transportation hubs.  Numerous studies have documented the health risks associated with high density traffic, but these studies are often found in academic and professional journals that are not readily available to the general public. 

A study in southern New England found that pregnant women in areas of high density traffic are more likely to give birth to underweight babies than mothers in neighboring suburban communities.  Several studies have shown that rates of childhood asthma increase significantly when schools are located near major commuter roads.  Minority communities are particularly hard hit: studies in New York and Chicago found that residents of poor black communities were four to five times more likely to die from asthma than the average for those cities and three times more likely to be at high risk of cancer from vehicle exhausts.  

A Department of Transportation "success" story that put a

community center, a playground and an athletic field within

500 feet of a major highway

Steps can be taken to address the harmful effects of high density traffic.  Emission standards have reduced pollution from car exhaust—especially in the case or air-borne lead.  High volume traffic can be routed away from residential areas, and schools and playgrounds can be located away from major commuter roads.  Traffic lights can be sequenced to reduce idling at intersections.  However, nothing will be done unless the people involved are aware of the problem.

As a result, community involvement in transportation projects has generally focused on access to public transportation, jobs and community services.  Public transportation facilities have been designed with culturally sensitive artwork and architecture, but these facilities are still served by diesel burning buses—while wealthier suburbs are accessed by electric rail.

The First Internment Camp

1675 would be a turning point in American history.  That year saw the start of King Philip’s War.  It was the final breakdown in the alliance with the Wampanoag that had been establish by the Pilgrims at Plymouth and Philip’s father, Massasoit.  It would be the bloodiest war in colonial history and, per capita, the bloodiest war in American history.  –But that was not the only turning point that year. 

King Philip by Paul Revere

Relations with the native tribes had been deteriorating for some time.  The war with the Pequot had been fought almost forty years earlier, but something had changed in that time.
During the Pequot War, the English settlers had been allied with the Narraganset and Wampanoag, and the war was partly the product of inter-tribal conflicts.  As a result of that war, however, the New England colonies had formed a confederation, and Philip had spent a dozen or more years building alliances with the neighboring tribes.  As a result, King Philip’s war would be fought along racial lines.

At the start of the War, some men had tried to negotiate with local tribes.  Benjamin Church had convinced the Sakonnet and Pocasset to remain neutral, and John Eliot—known as “the Apostle to the Indians”—had converted many of the Nipmuc and Pennacook to Christianity.  These converts, called “praying Indians,” had adopted English clothing and culture and even founded the English-style towns of Natick and Marlborough.  They would remain loyal to the English throughout the war.  

Many of the English distrusted even their Christian allies, and laws were passed banning the Nipmuc and other converts from bearing guns or travelling outside their villages.  This prevented them from hunting or, in some cases, cultivating their fields.  Tensions only increased as Philip’s forces won a series of victories as far west as Springfield and along the coast north into southern Maine.  Then in October the Nipmuc residents of Natick were ordered to relocate to Deer Island in Boston Harbor—which became America’s first internment camp.  Some time later they were joined by the Pennacook from Marlborough.

Some of the English colonists protested this decision, such as the missionary John Eliot and the magistrates Daniel Gookin and Thomas Danforth.  These men had been born in England, where society was divided along lines of class and religion, and they still saw their world in these terms.  Philip’s allies were not Christian, and Philip had expressed distrust of the converts.  For Eliot, Gookin and Danforth that made all the difference.  By 1675, however, the majority of English colonists had been born in America, and their world was divided into English and “Indian.”  They saw no difference between Philip’s allies and the “praying” allies of the English.  As a result, both Danforth and Gookin received death threats over their open support of the Christian brethren. 

Finally, in May of 1676 the war turned against the Wampanoag, partly because Philip had failed to secure an alliance with the Mohawk who saw an opportunity to harass his western border.  With the threat diminished, the English colonists began to relax, and the survivors were released from Deer Island.  Unfortunately, during the winter without adequate food or shelter roughly half of the Nipmuc and Pennacook on the island had died.  For the rest, the world had changed.

Roughly fifty years after the first English colonists had settled in New England, as the first generation born in America were beginning to craft an identity distinct from their cousins in England, race had become a defining part of that identity