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ADDRESSING ENVIRONMENTAL AND
FOOD JUSTICE TOWARD DISMANTLING
THE SCHOOL-TO-PRISON PIPELINE
Addressing
Environmental and
Food Justice toward
Dismantling the
School-to-Prison
Pipeline
Poisoning and Imprisoning Youth
Editors
Anthony J. Nocella II John Lupinacci
Fort Lewis College Washington State University
Durango, Colorado, USA Pullman, Washington, USA
K. Animashaun Ducre
Syracuse University
Syracuse, New York, USA
Foreword xix
Preface xxiii
Acknowledgments xxv
vii
viii CONTENTS
Afterword 193
Index 197
NOTES ON CONTRIBUTORS
ix
x NOTES ON CONTRIBUTORS
Carol Mendoza Fisher grew up in various cities in two urban Americas, Central
and North. Educated in public schools with all ethnic and socioeconomic classes,
she learned to navigate double consciousness early on. Her background formed
her interest in animal rights, environmental and social justice; activism solidified it.
She works for the Greater Edward’s Aquifer Alliance, advocating for one of the
largest aquifers in the USA. Previous work as a consultant enabled her to travel to
Europe and Asia and gain multicultural perspectives. Research areas are Global
Neoliberalism, green space, structural violence, and race, both independently and
their intersections.
Travis T. Harris is a graduate student in William and Mary’s American Studies
program. He has a vast array of research interest including Race, African American
Studies, Black Popular Culture, Performance Theory, and African American
Religion. His dissertation will examine the manifestation of institutional racism in
Williamsburg by examining Williamsburg—James City County Public Schools, the
College of William and Mary, local government, churches, businesses, and other
institutions. Travis also serves as the lead organizer of Black Lives Matter—
Williamsburg. He recognizes his scholarly work as life work with the goal of
empowering the “least of these” to thrive.
Joel Helfrich is a father, educator, and an activist who lives in Rochester,
New York. He teaches at Monroe Community College and Rochester Institute
of Technology. He holds a PhD in History from the University of Minnesota.
His dissertation is a historical investigation of Western Apache struggles over a
sacred and ecologically unique mountain in Arizona from 1871 to 2002. He
has worked on animal rights; environmental, historic, and sacred sites preserva-
tion; and other social justice issues. He holds the conviction that a myopic
focus defeats the most important work any historian does—being an informed
and informative member of society.
Frank Hernandez, during his 15 years in public education, has served as a class-
room teacher, an assistant principal, a principal, and a district coordinator of mul-
ticultural programming throughout several Midwestern urban school districts. His
research interests include the intersection of identity and school leadership and
teaching, leadership for equity and social justice, and Latinos and schools leader-
ship. Dr. Hernandez’ work has been published in journals such as Educational
Administration Quarterly, Journal of School Leadership, and Education and the
Urban Society. He holds a PhD in Educational Leadership and Policy Analysis
from the University of Wisconsin-Madison.
NOTES ON CONTRIBUTORS xi
Daniel White Hodge is the Director of the Center for Youth Ministry Studies and
Associate Professor of Youth Culture at North Park University in Chicago. His
research interests include social justice issues at the intersection of religion and
popular culture. His two current books are Heaven Has A Ghetto: The Missiological
Gospel and Theology of Tupac Amaru Shakur (VDM 2009), and The Soul Of Hip
Hop: Rimbs, Timbs, and A Cultural Theology (IVP 2010). He is working on a book
titled The Hostile Gospel: Finding Religion In The Post Soul Theology of Hip Hop
(Brill Academic late 2015).
John Lupinacci teaches pre-service teachers and graduate students in the Cultural
Studies and Social Thought in Education (CSSTE) program using an anarchist
approach that advocates for the development of scholar-activist educators. He has
taught at the secondary level in Detroit and is co-author of the book EcoJustice
Education: Toward Diverse, Democratic, and Sustainable Communities. His experi-
ences as a high school math and science teacher, an outdoor environmental educa-
tor, and a community activist, all contribute to examining the relationships
between schools and the reproduction of the cultural roots of social suffering and
environmental degradation.
Anthony J. Nocella II is an Assistant Professor of Sociology and Criminology at
Fort Lewis College, Executive Director of the Institute for Critical Animal Studies,
National Co-Coordinator of Save the Kids, Co-Editor of the Critical Animal
Studies and Theory Book Series with Lexington Books, Editor of the Peace Studies
Journal, and Coordinator of the International Hip Hop Activism Conference.
Nocella has published more than 50 scholarly articles/chapters and 20 books
including co-editing: From Education to Incarceration: Dismantling the School-to-
Prison Pipeline (2014), and The End of Prisons: Reflections from the Decarceration
Movement (2013). Visit him at www.anthonynocella.org.
lauren Ornelas is the founder/director of Food Empowerment Project (F.E.P.),
a vegan food justice nonprofit seeking to create a more just world by helping con-
sumers recognize the power of their food choices. F.E.P. works in solidarity with
farm workers, advocates for chocolate not sourced from the worst forms of child
labor, and focuses on access to healthy foods in Communities of Color and low-
income communities. lauren also served as campaign director with the Silicon
Valley Toxics Coalition for six years. Watch her TEDx talk on The Power of Our
Food Choices. Learn more about F.E.P.’s work at www.foodispower.org and www.
veganmexicanfood.com.
Priya Parmar is an Associate Professor of Secondary Education and Program
Head of English Education at Brooklyn College-CUNY. Her scholarly publica-
tions center around critical literacies, youth and Hip Hop culture, and other
xii NOTES ON CONTRIBUTORS
voices of urban youth as experts with the ability to understand and articulate their
lived experiences.
Caitlin Watkins is a nonprofit professional living in the San Francisco Bay Area.
She has worked for a number of organizations focused on social and economic
justice, including Insight Garden Program, Consumers Union, and Renaissance
Entrepreneurship Center. In 2013, she launched Fallen Fruit from Rising Women,
a social enterprise benefitting Crossroads, a transitional facility for previously incar-
cerated women. She graduated from Pitzer College in Claremont, CA, where she
completed her honors thesis in Environmental Analysis entitled “Cultivating
Resistance: Food Justice in the Criminal Justice System.”
LIST OF FIGURES
xv
LIST OF TABLES
xvii
FOREWORD
David Pellow
xix
xx FOREWORD
lauren Ornelas
More and more it seems that people in the USA want easy answers and
solutions to very complex issues. There seem to be very few who are look-
ing at the roots of problems to gain a deeper understanding of where
problems stem from. Poisoning and Imprisoning Youth: The Politics of
Environmental and Food Justice in the School-to-Prison Pipelines seeks to
not only look at the roots of the problems but how they are connected.
In our work at Food Empowerment Project, we see this when we look
at the lack of access to healthy foods in Communities of Color and low-
income communities. Instead of addressing the root problems of no fresh
fruits and vegetables in some communities (or the lack of living wages paid
to workers today, and greedy corporations that put unethical deeds on old
properties), so-called solutions too often involve bringing Wal-Mart or
other “big box” stores to communities.
So many issues involving food access are connected, and yet society
fails to unweave this web and to be critical enough to acknowledge the
complexities of the issues. Instead, we find a constant cycle of reliving
yesterday’s problems.
The Free Breakfast for School Children Program, started by the Black
Panther Party in 1969, was part of the range of social programs instituted
by the party at the time to directly address the services lacking in Black and
poor communities. Particularly important was their Ten-Point Program:
approached self-defense in terms of political empowerment, encompass-
ing protection against joblessness and the circumstances that excluded
Blacks from equal employment opportunities; against predatory business
practices intended to exploit the needs of the poor; against homelessness
xxiii
xxiv PREFACE
References
Black Panther Party. (1969). The free breakfast for school children. Oakland, CA:
The Black Panther Party Newspaper.
Hilliard, D., & Weise, D. (2002). The Huey P. Newton reader. New York, NY:
Seven Stories Press.
lauren Ornelas
Cotati, CA
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Anthony, John, and Kishi would like to thank first and foremost our fami-
lies who have supported us. We would also like to honor the Earth and all
the elements and living creatures on it. We also would like to thank every-
one with Palgrave, especially Mara Berkoff, Sarah Nathan, and Milana
Vernikova who have been supportive, detailed, and flexible during the
process of finishing this book. This book would not be possible without
the outstanding contributions and authors of the foreword, preface, and
afterword—David Pellow, lauren Ornelas, Joel Helfrich, Carol Mendoza
Fisher, Daniel White Hodge, Travis Harris, Priya Parmar, Don Sawyer,
Michael Cermak, Devon G. Peña, Caitlin Watkins, Sarah Conrad, and
Frank Hernandez. We would also like to thank those that wrote blurbs
for the book—Rebecca J. Clausen, Jason Del Gandio, David Gabbard,
Four Arrows, Joy James, William Ayers, David Stovall, Joel Kovel, César
A. Rossatto, Richard Kahn, Peter McLaren, and Richard White.
xxv
CHAPTER 1
from the history and experiences of some of its students. When this
element is combined with the final factor, the cultural incompetence
of those who serve our youth, they become intractable obstacles to
learning and catalysts for the rise in push-out rates.
5. Cultural incompetence refers to non-diverse, miseducated, or non-
representative personnel in both the juvenile justice and school sys-
tems that do not relate, understand, or identify with marginalized
identities (Save the Kids 2015).
The overall goal of the STPP is absolute control and punishment when
needed, while re-educating the future population (i.e., youth) that rein-
forces the dominant and dominated binary within society. As such, the
STPP is a tool of repressive governments; it is about social control through
the criminal justice system and propagation through the school system. A
historic example is the early Christian boarding schools for native youth
4 A.J. NOCELLA II ET AL.
in the USA. Those who did not cut their hair, learn English, and become
Christian found themselves as identified by the US government as “bad
Indians” and law enforcement would soon find a way to lock them up
through racist laws. Racist laws today include the banning in schools and
making it illegal to sag one’s pants in cities such as New Orleans, Chicago,
Atlanta, Detroit, Miami, and Jacksonville (Ferris 2014).
This book speaks to the rights that many people around the world
should have, like the rights to drinking clean water, eating healthy, and
living in a pollution-free environment. This book also speaks about the
disadvantages that youth, primarily low-income and Youth of Color, face
prior to their entrance into school. While some youth are fed a healthy
meal prior to a test or quiz, others are fed a highly processed sugar-filled
breakfast which often makes the child hyper, unable to focus, and shaking
and as a result of this daily reoccurrence the child is diagnosed, hyperac-
tive, attention deficient disorder, and behavior disorder. More and more
children in urban communities are exposed to toxins and getting asthma
because of the air pollution they live in. Furthermore, this planet is chang-
ing and growing warmer by the decade, not because of natural causes,
but by the hands of transnational corporations. These corporations try to
greenwash their activities by donating to non-profits, establishing envi-
ronmental foundations, and buying land. Many of these corporations have
their factories, refineries, and processing plants in the backyard of poor
neighborhoods and Communities of Color. Until we eradicate these cor-
porations and capitalism, they will continue to flatten the forests, destroy
diverse ecosystems, eliminate forever thousands of species, violate the
rights to clean air, water, and public health of communities, and leave
toxic pollution for generations to come (Best and Nocella 2006).
Oppression can appear in many forms; in this book, we will discuss in
detail how youth, specifically youth that are economically disadvantaged
and Youth of Color are targeted through the environment they live and
what they consume. This section of the introduction is dedicated to pro-
viding the reader solutions to the STPP and the pollution that youth have
to consume daily, while expected to succeed. This section will put the
reader on the path of being an effective activist and social change agent
(Del Gandio and Nocella 2014). There are many tactics to fight back
against these polluters such as rallies, sit-ins, die-ins, marches, rallies, hun-
ger strikes, banner drops, petitions, vigils, blockades, occupations, strikes,
boycotts, lobbying, memes, writing blogs, articles, books, and op-eds; and
developing websites, documentaries, social media activism, stickers, shirts,
INTRODUCTION: FROM ADDRESSING THE PROBLEMS TO THE SOLUTIONS ... 5
While Martin L. King Jr. had six micro-steps for social change, Mahatma
Gandhi had four macro-step activists for social change: (1) endure igno-
rance/avoidance; (2) stigmatization/dehumanization; (3) repression;
and finally (4) acceptance, where you explicitly address your concerns into
law, rules, and/or socially. No matter the issue, all social changes center
on a specific conflict. It is important to know how to analyze a conflict,
because it will allow those working for social change to understand all the
elements involved. All conflicts have three elements, which include the
following:
6 A.J. NOCELLA II ET AL.
CHAPTER VIII
“Well, what do you think of this d——d nonsense about Celia?” was
David Salmon’s polite greeting when he met Herbert Karne in the King’s
Road, Brighton, the next day.
He was so full of his grievance that he did not trouble to exchange the
customary civilities with the artist. Instead, he broke into a torrent of abuse
against the Wiltons, Lady Marjorie Stonor, and even Karne himself, for
having combined to lead his fiancée astray. He had been up to Woodruffe
that morning, he said, in order to give the Wiltons a piece of his mind, and
to implore Celia not to persist in her tomfoolery; but the girl was as
obstinate as a mule.
“Did you tell her what the consequence of her act will be, so far as
money is concerned?” asked Karne, who was not favourably impressed
with Salmon’s blustering manner.
“Yes, of course; but that didn’t seem to make the slightest difference.
She just went a bit white, and looked at me in a queer sort of way; then said
some stuff about ‘renunciation,’ and that was all. It’s my opinion that those
Wiltons must have worked upon her until her mind has become diseased;
and the sooner she gets away from them, the better. I have never heard of
such an idiotic affair in my life.”
Celia did not look, however, as if she possessed a morbid or diseased
mind. Her brother went over to Woodruffe in the afternoon, and found her
playing tennis. The exercise had lent a healthy glow to her cheeks; and she
looked much better and brighter than when he had last seen her in London.
The Wiltons received him kindly, although they were not sure whether
his visit were hostile as Mr. Salmon’s had been, or whether he was disposed
to be friendly; but their doubts were set at rest when he cordially invited
Enid to accompany Celia back to the Towers for the fortnight before her
rehearsals for the Haviland play began, and the invitation was accepted with
alacrity.
After tea they tactfully left the brother and sister alone, thinking, with
kindly consideration, that the two would have much to say to each other.
They were not mistaken. Herbert immediately began to ply Celia with a
volley of questions; and was some little time in eliciting all the information
he desired. Then he bade her consider well the gravity of her intended
action—an action that would cut her adrift from her own people, and make
her, for ever, an outcast in Israel.
“Do you know what your father would do, if he were alive?” he said
seriously. “He would sit shiva,[15] and mourn for you as one dead.”
But he did not blame her, nor did he cavil at her faith. He was kind, even
sympathetic; and all he asked her to do, for the present, was to wait awhile.
Celia, however, would not hear of procrastination in this matter; for the
Rev. Ralph Wilton was about to return to his parish, and she particularly
desired him to assist at the baptismal ceremony before he left. Besides,
there was nothing to be gained by waiting, she declared; her mind was fully
made up, her determination taken.
Herbert then advanced the monetary consideration, urging her not to
yield to a rash impulse she would probably live to regret; but, as he had
expected, this plea influenced her not at all.
“If the early Christians had allowed themselves to be guided by social
expediency, there would probably be little Christianity in the world to-day,”
she returned convincingly. “I must do what I feel to be my duty. But you
need not fear for me, Herbert. I am young and strong; and I have my voice.”
“And what of David Salmon? Have you considered him at all? You
know, it comes rather hardly upon him, after having been led to expect that
you would bring him a fortune.”
Celia’s eyes fell. “If he really loved me, he would be just as willing to
marry me poor as rich,” she rejoined.
“True; but I am afraid that he is not so unworldly as yourself. Tell me, sis
dear, would it hurt you very much if he were to give you up?”
Her heart beat fast; she had never thought of such a possibility.
“Do you think he would do that?” she asked, evading his question; and
her brother did not omit to notice the eager light in her eyes.
“Well, I had a lengthy conversation with him this morning,” he answered
slowly. “And it appears to me that this affair has brought out a new side to
his character; not a very commendable one, either, I am afraid. Of course
he, in common with the Friedbergs and Rosens, is shocked and disgusted;
not so much because of your change of faith—although the idea of his
marrying a converted Jewess is repugnant to them all—but because, by so
doing, you are deliberately throwing away a fortune. He informed me that,
on his marriage, Mr. Rosen intended taking him into partnership; but were
he to marry you without your money, the scheme would, of necessity, fall
through. Then he asked me what dowry I would give you, in the event of
your losing your inheritance. Now, you may be sure, dear sis, that I shall
always do my best to make ample provision for you; and you shall never
want, I trust, whilst I am alive; but I thought I would just meet Salmon on
his own ground. So I told him that I lived up to my income, pretty well—
which is quite true,—and that, having never foreseen this contingency, I
found myself utterly unable to provide you with a marriage portion. I don’t
think he quite believed that; anyway, he suggested my raising a mortgage
on the Towers, or something of that sort. Then, when he saw that I was
obdurate, he said that, much as he likes you, he could not afford to marry a
girl without money; so that, if you persist in what he calls your madness,
the engagement will have to be broken off. Finally, he asked me to persuade
you to reconsider your decision; and sincerely hoped that I would bring him
back good news.”
Celia was filled with indignation; but, because she had never really
loved him, the avariciousness of her fiancé occasioned her no grief. Rather,
she was relieved that his true nature was thus manifested before it was too
late.
“It is a wonder he did not suggest my singing or acting as a means of
support,” she said.
“He did; but I told him that I did not believe in a woman working to
keep her husband, unless he happened to be incapacitated by illness, or
there were some other urgent necessity. So it remains with you to decide
whether you will marry him or not. From what Marjie—Lady Marjorie, I
mean—has told me, I do not think your affections were deeply involved, so
that I can guess pretty well what your answer will be—eh, Celia?”
The girl slowly drew off her engagement ring. “Yes,” she replied
seriously, “I do not think I could marry him now, even were I to retain my
inheritance. My respect for him seems to have been suddenly obliterated.
Will you take him back this ring, please? And tell him that the man I marry
must love me for myself alone. Say, also, that, as I mean to carry out my
intention of joining the Christian Church, I am sure that there would often
be contention between us on that account; therefore the best thing—the only
thing—that I can do, is to dissolve our engagement.”
“And your decision is final?”
“Absolutely.”
Herbert made a wry face. “I cannot say I relish being the bearer of such a
message,” he said, placing the ring in his pocket-book. “Still, as you have
given it to me, I suppose I had better deliver it. I dare say Salmon will
round on me for having incensed you against him; and perhaps he will
prefer to receive your refusal from your own lips. I am afraid there will be a
mauvais quart d’heure for me when I get back to Brunswick Terrace.”
There was. David Salmon received the news with an oath, and broke into
a fit of passionate rage. After having cursed women in general, and Celia
Franks in particular, he declared that he would take to drink. When he had
calmed down, however, he thought better of it, and decided to console
himself with Dinah Friedberg. Dinah, so he said, besides being madly in
love with him, possessed no silly notions about religion, and her father,
although he did not make a pretence of being well off—as did Karne—
would at least endeavour to provide his daughter with a suitable marriage
dowry.
The next morning he presented himself at Woodruffe as though nothing
had happened. Celia would have preferred not to see him, but could not
very well refuse him the interview.
It was a painful one for both of them; and Celia, at least, felt relieved
when it was over. David implored, beseeched, and entreated her to
reconsider her decision, and refused at first to take back the few presents he
had given her, although he accepted them in the end. Finding that all his
pleading was of no avail, he revenged himself by indulging in cheap sneers
at her new-found faith, taunting her in the way best calculated to wound her
feelings. Finally, he encountered Ralph Wilton just as he was going out, and
told the clergyman what he thought of him in no measured terms.
Wilton himself was calm and unresentful, and his demeanour had the
effect of making Salmon a little bit ashamed of himself. He had the grace to
attempt an apology, at any rate, and even went so far as to shake hands
when he left.
Mr. Wilton accompanied him as far as the gate; then returned to the
drawing-room, to find Celia in tears.
The sight filled him with dismay. “Miss Franks!” he exclaimed, hardly
knowing how to express himself. “I—I am so sorry. I wish I could help you.
All this has been too much for you, I am afraid.”
Celia dried her eyes and smiled at him through her tears, reminding the
young clergyman of a burst of sunshine after a shower of rain.
“It—was—dreadfully weak of me!” she murmured in a small voice.
“But I couldn’t help it. Mr. Salmon did say such cruel things; and although I
know it’s foolish, they—they rankle. He made me feel as if I were about to
commit a crime.”
Ralph Wilton looked at her with deep sympathy in his eyes.
“The crown of thorns does indeed press hard upon your brow,” he said
compassionately. “You are being deprived of your fortune and your lover at
one blow. But do not lose heart, Miss Franks; I feel sure there is much
sunshine in store for you yet. Who can tell? Your self-sacrifice may lead to
happiness you know not of. Only trust and believe, and all will yet be well.”
“Oh, I am not at all unhappy,” she responded hastily, not wishing him to
be falsely impressed. “There is really no self-sacrifice in what I am doing.”
She did not add that the breaking of her engagement came as an unexpected
and not unwelcome release. Nevertheless, she felt it to be such, although it
was some little time before she could altogether realize that she was indeed
free.
The news of her conversion and its pecuniary consequence spread with
astonishing rapidity, even leaking into the Jewish and society papers.
Jewish people criticized her action as disgraceful, non-Jews as quixotic; and
both unanimously agreed that by foregoing a public confession of faith—
meaning the ceremony of baptism—she might have retained her fortune.
But public opinion caused Celia no concern, for she knew that no other
course than the one she had taken would have been possible to her for any
length of time. If she had acted foolishly according to the world’s standard,
she had at least done what she had felt to be her duty in the sight of God.
If she left Woodruffe the poorer in one way for her visit there, she was
richer in another; and never, during the whole course of her life, did she
ever wish her action undone.
CHAPTER IX
AN OUTCAST IN ISRAEL
CHAPTER X
The yard at Mendel’s factory was filled to its utmost capacity. Men jostled
each other’s elbows, and trod on each other’s corns with good-natured
indiscrimination. A jargon of Polish, Yiddish, Roumanian, and English of
the Lancashire dialect smote the air with Babel-like confusion; and as each
man spoke to his neighbour at the precise moment that his neighbour spoke
to him, the amount of comprehension on either side was reduced to nil.
They had met for the discussion of a grievance. Herbert Karne, after
further provocation, had put his threat into execution: the night-school, the
dispensary, and the club were closed. A notice was pasted on the doors
stating that they would remain closed until he received, signed by each one
of the men, a full and satisfactory apology for the gratuitous insults levelled
at his sister and himself; together with a promise of better behaviour in
future.
The news produced a sensation, some of the men utterly refusing to
believe it until they saw the notice for themselves. The club had been
opened so long, and occupied such a prominent position in the recreative
part of their work-a-day lives, that they had lost sight of the fact that it was
kept up entirely at Herbert Karne’s expense. Nearly every evening they
repaired thither to while away an hour or two in the comfortable reading or
smoke rooms; which were always well heated in winter, well ventilated in
summer. Here they could chat, or schmooze,[19] as they called it, to their
heart’s content. They were also at liberty to play solo-whist, so long as they
played for nominal stakes only, gambling being strictly prohibited; and in
the winter evenings, Herbert Karne arranged numerous entertainments for
their benefit, to which their women folks, in their Sabbath clothes, came as
well.
The club closed, they would be obliged to have recourse to the bar-
parlours of the public-houses; for the gregarious instinct was strong within
them, and their home-life more or less unattractive. But they knew that,
being foreigners and abstemious, they would not receive a cordial welcome
there; nor, indeed, did they desire the society of public-house frequenters.
They had the greatest respect for the British workman when sober; but they
were aware that having waxed convivial by the aid of beer, he was apt to
indulge in uncomplimentary remarks concerning “them furriners;” and
being extremely sensitive, they did not care for jocularity at their own
expense.
It became evident, therefore, that they must endeavour to get the club re-
opened; and it was in order to effect this end, that the meeting was being
held.
In the centre of the yard a number of heavy boxes had been piled up to
serve as a rostrum; and from this a slender olive-skinned man addressed his
fellow-workers. He was Emil Blatz, the foreman of the factory and manager
of the club.
Their present attitude to their benefactor, he told them—when he could
command silence—was senseless to the last degree. They had been
indulging in foolish spleen, and incurring serious harm to themselves, as the
closing of the club and dispensary testified. They were simply running their
heads against a brick wall when they imagined they could go against a man
in Mr. Karne’s position. He advised them to sign an apology which he
himself would prepare; and voted that they should do all in their power to
renew their former friendly relations with Herbert Karne.
His address was received with expressions of mingled approval and
dissent. The majority of them were half inclined to think that it would be
wiser in the end to cease hostility, especially as the winter was approaching.
They remembered the numerous creature comforts which had been
provided every year at the artist’s expense.
Jacob Strelitzki, with a wild light in his eyes, elbowed his way through
the crowd and sprang on to the platform.
“Mates!” he shouted energetically, “do you want to be turned into bacon-
eating m’shumadim by Herbert Karne and his sister?”
A vigorous reply in the negative rolled towards him like the answer of
one man.
“Well, then, don’t apologize, don’t play into their hands! Herbert Karne
is no true friend of ours! He has taken an interest in our welfare simply that
he might convert us all in the end! Four years ago he did his best to make a
m’shumad of me, but I resisted before it was too late. We have our wives
and children to consider—suppose he converts them against our will? Let
us make a firm stand against it, and swear that that shall never be!”
Murmurs of indignation and applause came from every throat; but the
foreman Blatz held up his hand to still them.
“It is false!” he cried in a voice that could be heard at the furthermost
corner of the yard. “Mr. Karne is our true friend, and he is not a m’shumad.
He has told us over and over again that he wishes us to be good Jews and
upright men; he has never attempted to teach us any creed but our own.
What right, then, have we to say that he is not a good Jew?”
“Every right!” replied the dark-bearded man vehemently. “If Herbert
Karne were a good Jew, he would not have received his sister into his house
after she became a Christian. He should have treated her as Bernie Franks
would have done had he lived; he ought to have cast her adrift. Listen here,
friends, Strelitzki is right. If we allow ourselves to be ruled by the people at
the Towers, we shall find our wives and children being led astray. Only
yesterday my little girl Blume met with a slight accident whilst out on an
errand. Miss Celia Franks used it as an excuse to entice her to the Towers,
where she kept her for some time. What she said to the child I do not know,
but when my wife undressed Blume at night, she discovered this”—lifting a
crucifix high above their heads—“hung round her neck. Comrades, are we
to stand by without protest in the face of an insult such as this?”
“No, no!” responded the angry crowd, their ire aroused at the sight of the
offending emblem. “Stamp on it! Crush the trumpery thing! Down with
those who dare to tamper with our religion! Down with m’shumadim!”
A crucifix around a Jewish child’s neck! It was the worst indignity that
could have been offered to them, for nothing could have shocked them
more. Here was proof positive of Celia Franks’ intention to convert their
children by force; here was virtually their call to arms.
Even the foreman Blatz knew not what to think; like the rest of them he
was amazed and shocked. In vain now did he urge them to establish peace;
the incident of the crucifix decided what their course of action should be.
They accused Blatz himself of apostasy when he again pleaded in favour
of the artist. They would do without Mr. Karne’s gifts rather than be robbed
of the faith of their forefathers. They would ask one of the Rothschilds or
Montefiores to build them a club; they would accept nothing more from
Herbert Karne.
The meeting broke up in noisy confusion, a motion being carried to
arrange further proceedings the following night. The men dispersed in twos
and threes, each discoursing volubly with his neighbour in whatever his
native language happened to be.
Emil Blatz went on his way alone, with heavy heart and thoughtful brow.
Usually he himself, as foreman, took the lead in factory affairs, but to-night
he had been superseded. The men had been swayed by Strelitzki and
Horwitz, who by common consent had established themselves as leaders,
and their temper boded no good towards Herbert Karne.
Blatz possessed a strong admiration for the artist, who had done him
many a good turn. He could not forget a certain eventful night, when his
boy lay dying, and Karne had kept vigil with him for eight weary hours,
until, at dawn, the little soul had fled into the dim unknown. He felt he
owed him a debt of gratitude for that, which, if it were in his power, he must
repay.
Almost involuntarily his steps turned towards the Towers, although he
had only a vague idea as to what he intended to do. Without giving himself
time for thought he pressed the visitors’ bell. Noiselessly the gate swung
back, gaining him admittance to the grounds. The coachman’s wife peered
out at him as he drew near the lodge, but offered no resistance: and with
careful steps he passed along the gravelled path which bounded the lawn,
until the house with its ornamental turrets loomed clear against the
blackness of the night.
Presently the sound of music made him pause; the mellow tones of a
piano, and then a woman’s voice, full, rich, and clear. Blatz listened with
eager attention, for he was a musician born. Softly and sweetly the notes
floated towards him through the half-open windows. He recognized the
melody; it was an aria from Elijah.
Moving a few steps to the right he found himself in full view of the
drawing-room. The blinds had not been lowered; and through the
transparent curtains he could see the interior of the room.
The scene struck him strangely, being in such marked contrast to the one
he had just left. It was as if, in the midst of turbulent strife, he had suddenly
come upon a haven of rest. Here for one short moment he might breathe the
atmosphere of peace and refinement. Although but a humble factory
worker, Blatz possessed a passionate love of the beautiful; and this
luxurious apartment, with its dainty touches of femininity, awakened a keen
thrill of pleasure within his breast.
There were five occupants of the room, all of whom were known to the
foreman, except the dark-haired girl at the piano. Herbert Karne stood with
his back to the fireplace exhibiting a book of sketches to the white-haired
vicar of Durlston. Seated on a low chair in the roseate glow of the lamp was
the vicar’s daughter, her fingers busily plying a piece of fancy-work; and
facing her, by the side of the grand piano, stood Celia Franks, singing with
all her heart.
“Hear ye, Israel! hear what the Lord speaketh: Oh, hadst thou heeded,
heeded My commandments!”
Sweetly and half reproachfully she sang the words to their melodious
accompaniment. Her eyes were dimly fixed on the dark swaying trees in the
garden; her thoughts were far from the lighted room.
Then more solemnly she enunciated the question: “Who hath believed
our report? To whom is the arm of the Lord revealed?” Afterwards
recurring to the exhortation, “Hear ye!” and closing with the pathetic appeal
in the minor key, “Israel!... Israel!”
A wave of emotion swept over Emil Blatz as he listened; the mellifluous
beauty of the melody almost carried him away. He knew not whom he
envied the more: Mendelssohn for having composed such music, or the
young singer for her power to interpret it in that way.
The words, too, sounded in his ear with peculiar significance; they
seemed like a justification of the singer’s faith.
Suddenly the voice ceased its tender note of appeal; and after a few bars
of recitative, burst forth into a triumphant assurance of divine protection,
followed by the sublime meditation:—
“Say, who art thou, that art afraid of a man that shall die? And forgettest
the Lord thy Maker, Who hath stretched forth the heavens, and laid the
earth’s foundations? Be not afraid, for I, thy God, will strengthen thee!”
To Blatz there was a note of defiance in the girl’s rendering of the
dramatic music: the very poise of her head, as she sang the “Be not afraid,”
seemed like a challenge to those who were her enemies. In his simplicity he
forgot that she was quite unconscious of her uninvited listener, and that the
words were not her own.