July 4, 2014

Poetry Friday--"American Bambina"

A Sketchbook Project poem for this most patriotic of American holidays!

Caption: Civarro family, 2106 Second Avenue, second floor back, working on patriotic flag pins. They get 3 cents a gross for inserting pin and putting onto card. Mrs. Civarro with her three-months-old baby in her arms is working with four children aged 10, 9, 7 and 5, and a younger child that does not work (2 years). They work irregularly (as Mrs. Civarro does the janitor work for the building which is in fair condition, and receives in return only the rent free of three small rooms), and their net income for this work is $2 a week. 8 members of the family sleep in one small inner room. The tenement is not licensed for homework. Baby was a premature child and very small and frail. "It is so skinny." Husband is a laborer. Location: New York, New York (State). Date: May 21, 1917. Photo by Lewis Wickes Hine, courtesy Library of Congress.

American Bambina

I was born in this country
as were the four after me.

Only Gaspare was born
in the old country.

Did you know Gaspare
means "treasure"?

He's Mama's golden, first
born bambino. Only one is first.

But, Gaspare does not find it
easy counting to 144.

And, he does not have my
quick nimble fingers.

I'm the first American born.
Why doesn't that count?

© Diane Mayr, all rights reserved.

I had intended to write something about being an red-blooded American as proven by the red-speckled pin-pricked skin resulting from in-home piece work. That idea fell by the wayside when the nine year old girl pushed her way to the front. She's an over-worked child, but she's also a sibling! Sometimes sibling rivalry is the most important issue in a child's life.

Have a safe 4th of July holiday! Start the fireworks going with the colorful poems being featured today at My Juicy Little Universe where Heidi is hosting the Round-Up.

14 comments:

  1. I love what you did with this! "Only one is first." As the middle child of five, I was always scrapping for my place... I think middle children learn how to get along with others and also tend to be fierce competitors... I learned so much about myself and the world through/with my siblings. Thank you for sharing! I will share your quilt poem next week... just didn't get to it today! Thank you again and again! xo

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  2. Thanks, Irene! I always find family dynamics to be fascinating.

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  3. My step-father was first born, too, & sold Grit papers when he was young to help out. The father left him, mother & brother early in the marriage. I don't whine about anything anymore, know I have it easy. Even in these tough circumstances, children are still thinking of the siblings-you're right, Diane!

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    1. You're so right, Linda, looking through the Hine photos, it makes it difficult to whine about anything at all!

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  4. Touching poem! Once again...you never know what a poem is going to be when it grows up...until it's grown up!

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    1. And it generally grows up without parental supervision!

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  5. I'm so glad that nine year old made her voice be heard! I love how these photos speak to you, Diane. You're a good listener.

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  6. I just love how this poem surprised me both with voice and tone--I thought it would be the littlest one grown up and lookiing back, especially after the reading the caption, but big sister has a very authentic take on the scene. Nice!

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    1. Thanks Heidi! There's no looking back in this series of poems. I'm trying to capture the child in the place and time the photo was taken.

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  7. How beautifully you bring this little girl to life.

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  8. 3 cents a gross - imagine that. And it still happens, in a way. I had Latino girls - kids, really - in my ESL classes that got out of school and went straight over to the box factory to assemble cardboard boxes from 4 p.m. to midnight. Still, I love what you've done with this poem, Diane - the girl not complaining, just being proud of her work and of her nimble fingers.

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    1. Thanks, Julie. How sad it is that we really haven't advanced much over the past 100 years. We're back to the place where the "corporation" is in control of labor and workers' lives.

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