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Title: The Farmer and His Community
Author: Sanderson, Dwight, 1878-1944
Language: English
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Literature in Agriculture (CHLA), Cornell University.)
THE FARMER AND HIS COMMUNITY
BY
DWIGHT SANDERSON
PROFESSOR OF RURAL SOCIAL ORGANIZATION
CORNELL UNIVERSITY
[Illustration]
NEW YORK
HARCOURT, BRACE AND COMPANY
COPYRIGHT, 1922, BY
HARCOURT, BRACE AND COMPANY, INC.
PRINTED IN THE U. S. A. BY
THE QUINN & BODEN COMPANY
RAHWAY, N. J.
EDITOR'S PREFACE
In the "good old days" of early New England the people acted in
communities. The original New England "towns" were true communities;
that is, relatively small local groups of people, each group having its
own institutions, like the church and the school, and largely managing
its own affairs. Down through the years the town meeting has persisted,
and even to-day the New England town is to a very large degree a small
democracy. It does not, however, manage all its affairs in quite the
same fashion that it did two hundred years ago.
When the Western tide of settlement set in, people frequently went West
in groups and occasionally whole communities moved, but the general rule
was settlement by families on "family size" farms. The unit of our rural
civilization, therefore, became the farm family. There were, of course,
neighborhoods, and much neighborhood life. The local schools were really
neighborhood schools. Churches multiplied in number even beyond the need
for them. When farmers began to associate themselves together as in the
Grange, they recognized the need of a strong local group larger than the
neighborhood. A subordinate Grange for example is a community
organization. Experience gradually demonstrated that if farmers wished
to coöperate they must coöperate in local groups. Strong nation-wide
organizations are clearly of great importance, but they can have little
strength unless they are made up of active local bodies. Gradually, the
community idea has spread over the country, in some cases springing up
almost spontaneously, until to-day there is a very widespread belief
among the farmers, as well as among the special students of rural
affairs, that the organization and development of the local rural
communities is the main task in conserving our American agriculture and
country life. It is interesting to note that what is true in America is
proving also to be true in other countries. In fact, the farm village
life in Europe and even in such countries as China is taking on new
activities, and it is being recognized that the improvement of these
small units of society is one of the great needs of the age.
Professor Sanderson, in this book, has attempted to indicate just what
the community movement means to the farmers of America. He has brought
to this task rather unusual preparation. In turn, a graduate of an
agricultural college, a scientist of reputation, Director of an
agricultural experiment station, Dean of a college of agriculture, he
has had a wide, varied and successful experience in various states. He
finally arrived at the conviction, however, that the most important
field of work for him lay in dealing with the larger phases of country
life, and he gave up administrative work for further preparation in the
new field. In his position as Professor of Rural Organization in the
College of Agriculture at Cornell University, he has been unusually
successful, both as investigator and as teacher. He speaks as one who
knows the farmers and not as an outsider, and also as a thorough
student.
This book therefore is sent out with a good deal of confidence. It deals
with one of the most important of the rural topics that can be discussed
these days. It points out fundamental principles and indicates practical
steps in applying principles.
KENYON L. BUTTERFIELD.
FOREWORD
In recent years we have heard a great deal about the rural community and
rural community organization. All sorts of organizations dealing with
rural life discuss these topics at their meetings, the agricultural
press and the popular magazines encourage community development, and a
number of books have recently appeared dealing with various phases of
rural community life. The community idea is fairly well established as
an essential of rural social organization.
One might gain the impression that the community is a new discovery or
social invention were he to read only the current discussions. It is,
however, a form of social organization as old as agriculture itself, but
which was very largely neglected in the settlement of the larger part of
the United States. This new emphasis on the community is, therefore, but
the revival in a new form of a very ancient mode of human association.
The community becomes essential because the conditions of rural life
have changed and rural people are again being forced to act together in
locality groups to meet the needs of their common life.
The author has attempted to define the rural community and to describe
the new conditions which are determining its structure and shaping its
functions, in the belief that an understanding of the nature of the
rural community should aid those who are seeking to secure a better
social adjustment of the countryside. It attempts to relate "The Farmer
and His Community." The problems and methods of community organization
have been discussed but incidentally, and the book is not designed as a
handbook for community development. Its chief aim is to establish a
point of view with regard to the rural community as an essential unit
for rural social organization through a sociological analysis of the
past history and present tendencies of the various forms of associations
which seem necessary for a satisfying rural society. It is hoped that
such an analysis presented in an untechnical manner may be of service to
rural leaders who are working for the development of country life by
giving them a better understanding of the nature of the community and
therefore a firmer faith in its future and greater enthusiasm and
loyalty in its service.
The present volume is a brief summary of a more extended study of the
rural community, not only in this country but in other lands and in
other times, which is now in preparation for publication.
DWIGHT SANDERSON.
CORNELL UNIVERSITY. _May, 1922._
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. THE RURAL COMMUNITY 3
II. THE FARM HOME AND THE COMMUNITY 14
III. THE COMMUNITY'S PEOPLE AND HISTORY 29
IV. COMMUNICATION THE MEANS OF COMMUNITY LIFE 37
V. THE FARM AND THE VILLAGE 46
VI. COMMUNITY ASPECTS OF THE FARM BUSINESS 58
VII. HOW MARKETS AFFECT RURAL COMMUNITIES 67
VIII. HOW COÖPERATION STRENGTHENS THE COMMUNITY 77
IX. THE COMMUNITY'S EDUCATION 91
X. THE COMMUNITY'S EDUCATION, CONTINUED; THE
EXTENSION MOVEMENT 107
XI. THE COMMUNITY'S RELIGIOUS LIFE 121
XII. THE COMMUNITY'S HEALTH 137
XIII. THE COMMUNITY'S PLAY AND RECREATION 153
XIV. ORGANIZATIONS OF THE RURAL COMMUNITY 169
XV. THE COMMUNITY'S DEPENDENT 181
XVI. THE COMMUNITY'S GOVERNMENT 196
XVII. COMMUNITY ORGANIZATION 209
XVIII. COMMUNITY PLANNING 222
XIX. COMMUNITY LOYALTY 234
APPENDIX A 247
THE FARMER AND HIS COMMUNITY
"_The core of the community idea, then--as applied to rural life--is
that we must make the community, as a unit, an entity, a thing, the
point of departure of all our thinking about the rural problem, and, in
its local application, the direct aim of all organized efforts for
improvement or redirection. The building of real, local farm communities
is perhaps the main task in erecting an adequate rural civilization.
Here is the real goal of all rural effort, the inner kernel of a sane
country-life movement, the moving slogan of the new campaign for rural
progress that must be waged by the present generation._"--_Kenyon L.
Butterfield, in "The Farmer and the New Day."_
CHAPTER I
THE RURAL COMMUNITY
No phase of the social progress of the Twentieth Century is more
significant or promises a more far-reaching influence than the
rediscovery of the _community_ as a fundamental social unit, and the
beginnings of community consciousness throughout the United States. I
say the "rediscovery" of the community, for ever since men forsook
hunting and grazing as the chief means of subsistence and settled down
to a permanent agriculture they have lived in communities.
In ancient and medieval Europe, in China and India, and among primitive
agricultural peoples throughout the world, the village community is
recognized as the primary local unit of society. In medieval France the
rural "_communaute_" was the local unit of government and social
administration. Its people met from time to time at the village church
in regular assemblies at which they elected their local officers,
approved their accounts, arranged for the support of the church, the
school, and local improvements. In most of France and throughout much of
Europe the farm homes are still clustered in villages, from which the
farm lands radiate. There the village is primarily a place of residence,
and with the lands belonging to it forms the community.
New England was settled in much the same manner, being divided into
towns which still form the local units of government, and which for the
most part are single communities, though here and there more than one
center has sprung up within a town and secondary communities have
developed. The New England town meeting has ever been lauded as the
birthplace of representative democratic government in America, and in
its original form it was a true community meeting, dealing not only with
the political government, but considering all religious, educational,
and social matters affecting the common life of the town.
Although the New England tradition determined the form of local
government in the areas settled by its people in the central and western
states, the township was but an artificial town resulting from methods
of the land surveys. The homesteader "took up" his land with but little
thought of community relations. He traded at the nearest town; church
was first held in the school-house and later churches were erected in
the open country at convenient points; his children went to the district
school; and his social life was chiefly in the neighboring homes. His
life centered in the immediate neighborhood. As railroads covered the
country, villages and town sprang up at frequent intervals, and
gradually became the real centers of community life, but usually there
was but little realization on the part of either village or farm people
of their community interests. The farmer's attention was on the farm,
the townsman's chief interest was his business, and not infrequently
their interests were in conflict and they gave little thought to their
real dependence on each other.
In the South the plantation system of the landed aristocracy, which as
long as it existed was quite self-sufficient, gave little encouragement
to community development. The county was the most important unit of
local government and the "carpet-baggers'" efforts at establishing local
townships were repudiated with the ending of their régime. Only in
recent years have conditions throughout the South, largely the result of
increased immigration and the breaking up of large plantations, favored
the development of local communities.
In general, the American farmer has voted and taken his share in local
politics and government, has attended his own church, has traded where
most convenient or advantageous, has joined the nearest grange or lodge,
and with his family has visited nearby friends and relatives and joined
with them in social festivities; he has loyally supported these various
interests, but until very recently, he has had little conception of the
interrelations of these institutions in the life of the community or of
the possible advantages of community development as such. But new wants
and new problems have arisen which may only be met by the united action
of all elements of both village and countryside. The automobile demands
better roads and both farmer and businessman are interested to have them
built so that the natural community centers may be most easily reached.
Better schools, libraries, facilities for recreation and social life,
organization for the improvement of agriculture and for the better
marketing of farm products, are all community problems and force
attention upon the community area to be served by these institutions. A
consolidated school or a library cannot be maintained at every
crossroads. Only by the support of all the people within a reasonable
distance of a common center are better rural institutions possible.
The trend of events was thus bringing about a recognition of the place
of the community in the life of rural people, when the Great War
hastened this process by many years. Liberty Loan, Red Cross, and other
war "drives" were organized by communities which vied with each other in
raising their quotas. A new sense of the unity of the community was
brought about by the common loyalty to its boys in the nation's service.
Having created state and county councils of defense, national leaders
came to appreciate that the primary unit for effective organization for
war purposes must be the community, and President Wilson wrote to the
State Councils of Defense urging the organization of community councils.
Thousands of these had been organized when the Armistice was declared,
and although most of them were not continued, the importance of the
local community was given national recognition and attention was
directed to the need of the better organization of local forces for
community progress.
What, then, is the rural community? Is it a real entity or is it merely
an idea or an ideal? Where is it and how can we recognize it?
We are indebted to Professor C. J. Galpin, now in charge of the Farm
Life Studies of the United States Department of Agriculture, for first
developing a method for the location of the rural community. Professor
Galpin[1] holds that the trading area tributary to any village is
usually the chief factor in determining the community area. He
determines the community area by starting from a business center and
marking on a map those farm homes which trade mostly at that center. By
drawing a line connecting those farm homes farthest from the center on
all the roads radiating from it, the boundary of the trade area is
described. In the same way the areas tributary to the church, the
school, the bank, the milk station, the grange, etc., may be determined
and mapped. The boundaries of these areas will be found to be by no
means coincident, but it will usually be found that most of them center
in one village or hamlet, and that the trade area is the most
significant in determining the area tributary to this center. When the
areas served by the chief institutions of adjacent centers are mapped,
it is usually found that a composite line of the different boundary
lines separating these centers will approximate the boundaries of the
communities. A line which divides adjacent community areas so that most
of the families either side of this line go most frequently to, or their
chief interests are at, the center within that boundary, will be the
boundary between the adjacent communities. Thus, from the standpoint of
location, _a community is the local area tributary to the center of the
common interests of its people._[2]
As indicated above the business center may usually be taken as the base
point or community center, from which to determine the boundaries of the
community. However, in the older parts of the country or in hilly or
mountainous regions, the trade or business center is not always the same
as the center of the chief social activities of the people, and may not
be the chief factor in determining the community center. Not
infrequently a church, school and grange hall located close together may
form the nucleus of a community which does its business at a railroad
station village some distance away, possibly over a range of hills. The
chief trading points cannot, therefore, be arbitrarily assumed as the
base points for determining community areas, but those points at which
the more important of the common interests of the people find expression
should be considered as community centers. It is not simply a question
of where the people go most often, but of where their chief interests
focus.
With this concept of a community it is obvious that the "center" of a
community must be the base point for determining its area. It would seem
that the community center is essential to the individuality of any
community: The community "center" need not necessarily be at the
geographical center of the community; indeed in many cases it is at or
close to one of its boundaries, though in an open level country it will
tend to approximate the center.
The term "community center" is here used in a literal sense of being the
center of the activities of the community. It should be distinguished
from the "community-center idea" which refers to a building, whether it
be a community house, school, church, or grange hall, as a "community
center." Such a building in which the activities of the community are
largely centered may be a community center in a very real sense, but in
most cases these activities will be divided between church, school,
grange hall, etc. No one of them can then be a center for the whole
community, but taken together they constitute the center in which the
chief interests of the community focus. Every community must necessarily
have a more or less well defined community center; it may or may not
have some one building in which the chief activities of the community
have their headquarters. Such buildings, of whatever nature, may well be
called community houses or social centers.
Although attention has been directed to the area of the community, the
community consists not of land or houses but of the people of this area.
Its boundary merely gives a community identity, as does the roll of a
company or the charter of a city. The community consists of the people
within a local area; the land they occupy is but the physical basis of
the community. The nature of the community will depend very largely upon
whether its people live close together or at a distance. In the Rocky
Mountain States many communities are but sparsely settled and may have a
radius of forty or fifty miles and yet be true communities, while on the
Atlantic seaboard a definite community with as many people may have a
radius of not over a mile or two.
Nor is the community a mere aggregation or association of the people of
a given area. It is rather a corporate state of mind of those living in
a local area, giving rise to their collective behavior. There cannot be
a true community unless the people think and act together.
The term "neighborhood" is very frequently used as synonymous with
"community," and should be definitely distinguished. In the sense in
which these terms are now coming to be technically employed, the
neighborhood consists of but a group of houses fairly near each other.
Frequently a neighborhood grew up around some one center, as a school,
store, church, mill, or blacksmith shop, which in the course of time may
have been abandoned, but the homes remained clustered together. Or the
neighborhood may be merely six to a dozen homes near together on the
same road or near a corner. The school district of the one-room country
school is commonly a neighborhood, but as there are no other interests
which bind the people together it cannot be considered a community.
Likewise people associate in churches, granges, etc., but church
parishes overlap, and the constituency of any one of these associations
is not necessarily a community. Only when several of the chief human
interests find satisfaction in the organizations and institutions which
serve a fairly definite common local area tributary to them, do we have
a true community. In many cases the neighborhood, particularly the
school district, forms a desirable unit for certain purposes of social
organization, and, indeed, in many cases it may be necessary to develop
the neighborhood as a social unit before its people will actively
associate themselves in community activities, but the neighborhood
cannot function in the same way as the larger community which brings
people together in several of their chief interests. The community can
support institutions impossible in the neighborhood, such as a grange,
lodge, library, various stores, etc. The community is more or less
self-sufficing. A community may include a variable number of
neighborhoods. The community is the smallest geographical unit of
organized association of the chief human activities.
Bringing together these various considerations concerning the nature of
the rural community we may say that _a rural community consists of the
people in a local area tributary to the center of their common
interests_.
Obviously the community thus defined has nothing to do with political
areas or boundaries, for very commonly a community may lie in two or
three townships or counties. That rural areas are actually divided into
such communities and that the community is the primary unit of their
social organization may best be tested by taking any given county or
township and attempting to map its area into communities on the basis
above described. In most of the northern and western states and
throughout much of the South, most of the territory may be quite readily
divided into communities. This has been demonstrated by the rural
surveys of the Interchurch World Movement[3] and by the community maps
made by County Farm Bureaus.
A very large part of the South, however, has no natural community
centers and in such sections it will be found very difficult if not
impossible to define community areas. The store may be at the railroad
station, the church in the open country, and the district or
consolidated school at still another point. Some people go to one store
or church and others to another. Under such conditions, no real
community exists. Usually, any form of social organization is more or
less difficult under such conditions, for the people are divided into
different groups for different purposes and there is nothing which makes
united activities possible. It seems probable that only to the extent
that certain centers of social and economic life come to be recognized
by the people, and community life is developed around them, will the
most effective and satisfying social organization be possible.
Recognition of the community as the primary unit for purposes of rural
organization has now become quite general. Several mid-western states
have passed legislation permitting school districts to combine into
community districts for the support of consolidated schools or high
schools, irrespective of township or county boundaries. The present
tendency in the centralization of rural schools seems to be in the
direction of locating them at the natural community centers. Rural
churches are coming into a new sense of responsibility to the community
and the community church is increasingly advocated. The American Red
Cross in planning its peace-time program is recognizing the importance
of the rural community as the local unit for its work. The County Farm
Bureaus, working in coöperation with the state colleges of agriculture
and the United States Department of Agriculture, very soon discovered
the value of the community as the local unit of their organization, and
carry on their work through community committees or community clubs.
Possibly no other one movement has done so much to bring about the
definite location of rural communities and their appreciation by rural
people. A conference of national organizations engaged in social work in
rural communities held in 1919 summed up the experience of a group of
representative rural leaders in the statement: "In rural organization it
is recognized that the local community constitutes the functional unit
and the county or district the supervisory unit." In other words, it is
the rural community which really "carries on," whatever the executive
organization of the county or district may be.
The strength of the rural community as a social group lies in two facts.
First, it is not so large but that most of its people know each other.
The size of the community in this regard does not depend so much upon
the actual number of square miles involved as upon the number of its
population. People may all be acquainted in a sparsely settled community
covering a ten-mile radius, and there may be less acquaintance in a
small community with a dense population. Secondly, the great majority of
the people in the average rural community are dependent upon agriculture
for their income, either directly or once-removed. These two facts make
possible common interests and a social control through public opinion
which is not possible in larger social units such as the county or city.
Sir Horace Plunkett appreciates this when he says:
"Our ancient Irish records show little clans with a common
ownership of land hardly larger than a parish, but with all
the patriotic feeling of larger nations held with an
intensity rare in modern states. The history of these clans
and of very small nations like the ancient Greek states
shows that the _social feeling assumes its most binding and
powerful character where the community is large enough to
allow free play to the various interests of human life, but
is not so large that it becomes an abstraction to the
imagination_."[4]
This inherent social strength of the rural community, the fact that the
community is relatively permanent, and the appreciation that only
through community effort may rural people realize their natural desire
to enjoy some of the advantages of cities, force the conviction that the
community must be the primary unit for the organization of rural
progress. It is from this point of view that we shall discuss the
community aspects of the various human interests of the farmer and the
consequent relations of "The Farmer and His Community."
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Galpin, C. J., "The Social Anatomy of an Agricultural Community."
Research Bulletin 54, Agricultural Experiment Station of the University
of Wisconsin, May, 1915; and also in his "Rural Life," Century Co., New
York, 1920.
[2] The following four pages are revised from the author's bulletin,
"Locating the Rural Community," Cornell Reading Course for the Farm,
Lesson 158.
[3] See Reports of the Town and Country Department, Committee on Social
and Religious Surveys, 111 Fifth Ave., New York, or Geo. H. Doran, New
York.
[4] "Rural Life Problem in the United States," p. 129. Italics mine.
CHAPTER II
THE FARM HOME AND THE COMMUNITY
The American farmer thinks first of his own home; only recently has he
commenced to appreciate that his and other homes form a community. In
the "age of homespun" the pioneer subdued his new lands and built his
home; the farm and the home were his and for them he lived. He bought
but little and had but little to sell. Farms were largely
self-supporting. Neighbors helped each other in numerous ways and as the
country became more thickly settled neighborhood life grew apace. But
there was little sense of relation to the larger community. Roads were
bad and people were too widely scattered to come together except on
special occasions. The family was the fundamental social unit and social
life revolved around the family, or in the immediate neighborhood.
But "times have changed." The farm is no longer largely self-supporting.
It is now but a primary unit in a world-wide economic system, conducted
with money as the basis of exchange and dominated by the interests of
capital. Farm products are sold for cash and their value is determined
by distant or world markets with which the farmer has no personal
contact and of which he often has but little knowledge. Most of the
goods consumed on the farm must be purchased. The marketing of his
products and the purchasing of goods have given the farmer increasing
contacts with the village and town centers and a broader knowledge of
the world at large.
During the past century modern ideas of transportation and the
development of industries due to inventions and scientific discoveries
have resulted in an enormous growth of city populations. The social life
of the cities is increasingly dominated by the interests of the
individual rather than those of the family, until the breaking down of
urban family life has become a world-wide problem. The family is no
longer the social unit of the city as it is in the country.
Now farm people are by no means as isolated from town and city as is
often imagined. Their brothers and sisters, sons and daughters have gone
to make up the increasing urban populations. Through correspondence and
visiting back and forth, through frequent trips to town, through the
daily city newspapers, and through the general reading of magazines,
farm people are in more or less close contact with the life and manners
of the cities. Inasmuch as slightly over half of our people now live in
towns or cities and only one-third live on farms, it is not surprising
that urban ideals and values and the urban point of view tend more and
more to dominate those of the countryside. There has been a natural
tendency, therefore, for the association of country people to center in
the country town and village, in the community center.
Better transportation and the inability to maintain satisfactory
institutions in the open country have made this process inevitable and
it will do much to abolish the evils of rural isolation. The increasing
difficulty of maintaining successful churches in the open country and
the growth of the village church, the dissatisfaction with the one-room
district school and the desire for consolidated schools and community
high schools, are evidences of this tendency.
The smaller size of the farm family has made it less self-sufficient
socially than formerly, and the fact that fewer near relations live
nearby and farms change hands more often has resulted in fewer
neighborhood gatherings. The different members of the family tend to get
together more with groups of their own age and sex coming from all parts
of the community, and definite effort is made for the organization of
such groups according to their various interests.
Attention is directed to these tendencies because in our present
emphasis on the relation of the farmer to his community and on community
values, we must not lose sight of the fact that the family must ever be
recognized as the primary social institution of rural life. Indeed, it
may not be too much to claim that the largest value in the agricultural
industry is in the possibility of the most satisfactory type of home
life. The millionaire farmer is so rare as to be negligible, and
although farmers as a class doubtless have as wholesome and satisfactory
a living as they would in other pursuits, yet no one engages in farming
as a means of easily acquiring large wealth. The highest rural values
cannot be bought or sold.
The mere fact that farming is practically the only remaining industry
conducted on a family basis--which seems likely to continue--and that
all members of the family have more or less of a share in the conduct
and success of the farm, creates a family bond which does not ordinarily
exist where the business or employment of the father and of other
members of the family is dissociated from the home. Although the burden
of the farm business on the home is often decried and there is obvious
need of lightening the mother's work for the farm as much as possible,
yet under the best of conditions there is on the farm a constant and
intimate contact between the father and mother and children which is
rarely found under other conditions.
Primitive woman discovered the art of agriculture. At first, the men
assisted the women in what time they could spare from hunting; but as
game became scarce and the food supply grown from the soil was found to
be more certain, agriculture became man's vocation. Permanent home life
commenced with the development of agriculture. As he became a farmer,
primitive man stayed at home with his wife and shared with her the
nurture of the children. Before then the family had been _hers_, now it
was _theirs_. The mere fact that the home and the business are both on
the farm, that father is in the house several times a day and that the
whole family are acquainted with his farm operations, will always give
the farm home a superior solidarity, so long as the family lives on the
farm. Though but few farm homes are ideal and some of them have but
little that is attractive, yet nowhere are conditions so favorable for
the enjoyment of all that is most precious in family life as in the
better American farm homes.
If this be true, that the chief value in agriculture is in the
possibility of the most satisfactory home life, then community
development should be considered primarily from the standpoint of its
effect on the farm home, for the social strength of the country will be
more largely determined by its homes than by its other social
institutions. We should endeavor, therefore, to build up that type of
community life which makes for better homes and stronger families. While
seeking to afford superior advantages to individuals, all effort toward
community improvement should recognize that the strength of the
community is in its home life.
The need of this point of view with regard to rural community
organization has been very forcibly indicated by Mr. John R. Boardman,
one of our keenest observers and interpreters of country life in his
"Community Leadership." He says:
"At the heart of the rural situation is the rural family.
The social problems involved in home life in the rural
village and on the farm are of two kinds,--developmental and
protective. The social unit in the city is the individual.
Urban conditions have rapidly disintegrated the family as a
social unit. Grave dangers have resulted from this
interference with the unity of domestic life. The rural
family is in danger of meeting the same fate. It is now the
social unit in the rural social structure. Every effort must
be put forth to make this situation permanent. The major
problem is one of home conservation. Protection of the rural
family against social exploitation will demand increasing
attention. The development of social organization along
lines which interfere with the unity and solidarity of rural
family life must be approached with extreme caution and
tolerated only as they may be absolutely necessary. So far
as possible social organization must be built around the
rural family and give it every possible opportunity to act
as a family in the scheme of organization and activity. The
home as a social center must receive increased attention.
There is great danger, in the new interest which is being
aroused in rural social life, that the matter of social
organization be greatly overdone. The rural family will be
the one to suffer first and most severely as a result of
this craze for social organization."
In support of this point of view it is interesting to note that the
strongest rural institutions, the church, the grange, and the recently
organized Farm Bureaus, are all organizations which have an interest for
the whole family or for most of its members. With an increasing sense of
social needs and responsibilities on the part of rural people, new
organizations will be formed and various community activities must be
undertaken, but if country people will remain true to their traditions
and, with clear view of changing conditions, will seek to organize their
community life as an association of farm and village _families_, they
will create the most satisfying and enduring type of society. The
community buildings now becoming so popular in rural communities are a
good example of a family institution organized to furnish better
recreation and social facilities for the whole family.
Inasmuch as the home is its primary social institution, the rural
community must give its first consideration to its relations to the home
and how the home life may be strengthened, if the rural family is to
withstand the influence of the disintegrating home life of the city. For
the farm home is in a process of readjustment to modern conditions and
the recognition of ideals and objectives of home-life by the community
will be a powerful factor in their maintenance.
The mother has ever occupied the central position in the home. Under
modern conditions, as a result of her education and broader knowledge of
life, through her more frequent contacts with town and city and through
her wider reading, many a farm mother is coming to feel that her
position is an anomalous one. In some cases she may be able to solve her
own problems, but only a general change in public opinion concerning
their position will bring a more acceptable status to farm women as a
class.
Some of the farm woman's problems arise from the increasing division of
labor between her husband and herself and from the marketing of the farm
products; these are the problems of her economic status. The peasant
woman of medieval Europe or the wife of the American pioneer never
worried that she did not receive a monthly allowance or a certain share
of the farm income. She worked with her husband and family in raising
the farm products and she shared in their consumption, for but
relatively little was sold off the place. To-day, the wife of the farm
owner does little work on the farm; its products are sold and much of
the food and practically all of the clothing is purchased. She and her
children contribute a considerable amount of the labor of the farm
enterprise, and do all of the housework; but the husband does the
selling and most of the buying, she often has but little share in the
management of the family's finances, and rarely knows what she may count
on for household expenses. She comes to feel that she is no longer a
real partner, but a sort of housekeeper, though without salary or
assured income. In over nine thousand farm homes studied in the northern
and western states,[5] one-fourth of the women helped with the
livestock, and one-fourth worked in the field an equivalent of 6.7 weeks
a year, over half of them cared for the home gardens, and one-third of
them kept the farm accounts. Over a third of them helped to milk,
two-thirds washed the separators, and 88 percent washed the milk pails,
60 percent made the butter and one-third sold the butter, but only 11
percent had the spending of the money from its sale. Likewise 81 percent
cared for the poultry, but only 22 percent had the poultry money for
their own use and but 16 percent had the egg money. These figures do not
give us a complete analysis of the household finances in relation to the
amount contributed by farm women, but they are indicative of the general
situation.
It is because of these facts that farm women feel that a larger portion
of the farm income should be spent in giving them better household
conveniences, somewhat commensurate with the amount that is spent for
improved farm machinery and barn conveniences. Only one-third of these
farm homes had running water; and but one-fifth had a bath-tub with
water and sewer connections; 85 percent had outdoor toilets. Improvement
is in evidence, however, for two-thirds had water in the kitchen, 60
percent had sink and drain, 57 percent had washing machines, and 95
percent had sewing machines. It is not that she is merely seeking less
work so that she may attend her club or go to the movies, that the farm
mother desires better conveniences and shorter hours--her average
working day is now 11.3 hours--but because she has new ideals of the
nurture which she wishes to give her family and of what she might do for
them had she the time and physical strength.
As a result of the coöperative survey of 10,000 representative farm
homes in 241 counties in the 33 northern and western states made by home
demonstration agents and farm women, Miss Ward[6] gives some interesting
"side-lights," which are as illuminating as the statistics:
"Women realize that no amount of scientific arrangement or
labor-saving appliances will of themselves make a home. It
is the woman's personal presence, influence, and care that
make the home. Housekeeping is a business as practical as
farming and with no romance in it; home making is a sacred
trust. A woman wants time salvaged from housekeeping to
create the right home atmosphere for her children and to so
enrich their home surroundings that they may gain their
ideals of beauty and their tastes for books and music not
from the shop windows, the movies, the billboards, or the
jazz band, but from the home environment.
"The farm woman knows that there is no one who can take her
place as teacher and companion of her children during their
early impressionable years and she craves more time for
their care. She feels the need of making the farm home an
inviting place for the young people of the family and their
friends and of promoting the recreational and educational
advantages of the neighborhood in order to cope with the
various forms of city allurements. She realizes that modern
conditions call for an even deeper realization and closer
contact between mother and child. The familiar term, 'God
could not be everywhere so He made mothers' has its modern
scientific application, as no amount of education and care
given to children in school or elsewhere outside the home
can take the place of mothering in the home. 'The home
exists for the child, hence the child's development should
have first consideration.'
"Farm women want to broaden their outlook and keep with the
advancement of their children 'not by courses of study but
by bringing progressive ideas, methods, and facilities into
the every day work and recreation of the home environment.'"
"True enough," you say, "but these are problems of the individual home.
What have they to do with the community?" Just this: The status of the
farm woman is a matter determined more by custom than by individual
achievement. It is difficult for any one woman, no matter how able or
strong-minded, to maintain a status much in advance of that of her
neighbors; but let the women of a community get together and discuss
their problems and ideals and the group spirit strengthens each of them
in the pursuit of the common ideals. It is such a desire for mutual
support--even though they are not conscious of it--which has drawn farm
women together into clubs and which has given such an impetus to the
Home Bureaus, or women's departments of the county Farm Bureaus. Not
only in women's organizations, but finally in community organizations of
men and women, such as the Grange and the church, the social standards
of the community receive the sanction of public opinion, than which
there is no more powerful means of influencing family usages. The
community as such, must give recognition to a new and better status of
its farm women.
If the rural home remains the primary social institution, it will be due
to its intelligent effort at self-defense, and not to any inherent right
which it has to such a position. Originally the family was but a
biological group. Until modern times the agricultural family was chiefly
an economic unit. Only with the isolation of the American farm, did the
individual family assume the primary social position known to our
fathers and grandfathers. Physical isolation and large families made the
farm home the only possible social center. Isolation is largely passing,
families are smaller, and organizations of all sorts and commercial
amusements compete with the family. It is the use of leisure time which
reveals the true loyalty of the family group. If there be nothing to
attract them to the fireside, they will inevitably go elsewhere whenever
possible. Hence, if it would have its foundations strong, the community
must encourage the enrichment of home life, particularly, in the hours
of leisure when life is most real. The family games after supper, the
group around the piano singing old and modern songs, the reading aloud
by one member of the circle, the cracking of nuts and the popping of
corn, the picnic supper on the lawn, the tennis court or croquet ground,
the home parties, the guests ever-welcome at meals, these are but items
in a possible scorecard of the sociability of the home. We are giving
much thought to all sorts of group activities, but how much attention
have we given to systematically encouraging the social unit which has
the largest possibilities, the family? Last summer my friend, Professor
E. C. Lindeman, of the North Carolina College for Women, spent several
weeks in becoming acquainted with rural Denmark under peculiarly
favorable conditions. A statement in a letter from him regarding Danish
home life is apropos in this connection:
"I observed that the country people find a great deal of
social expression within their own homes. The home life is
organized on a much higher plane than is common in America.
In addition, there is a larger content of cultural and
educational material within the family circle."
In the same way the economic position, health, education, and all other
phases of life of the family are the most potent influences both in the
life of its members and of the community.
The question arises, therefore, what is the community doing to
strengthen the home? In recent years the new discipline of Home
Economics has vigorously attacked the problems of diet, clothing, and
household management, and has accomplished much. It is now concerning
itself with health, child welfare, and even with child psychology and
the family as an institution. Yet the home economics point of view is
necessarily restricted to that of the institution which it serves, i.e.,
the home; it has the same limitations, when pursued solely from the home
standpoint, that farm management has as an interpretation of farming if
not related to agricultural and general economics. We need a
consideration of the problems of the home from the standpoint of other
social institutions and with regard to its function in social
organization. We need a clearer concept of the relation of the home to
the community and to community associations and activities.
The community institutions, the school, the church, and various
organizations, have had too much of a tendency to compete with the home
rather than to support and strengthen it. Thus the tendency of the
school has been to demand a larger and larger portion of the child's
time and to assume that because certain phases of education can be more
economically given in the school, that, therefore, it should take over
as much of the educational function of the home as is possible; a
conclusion which is by no means valid. In the home project a new
educational principle has been discovered, which has far-reaching
significance: for in it the school and the home coöperate, the school
outlining, standardizing, and interpreting, while the home furnishes
supervision, advice, and encouragement. Thus, the home is stimulated to
perform those educational functions in which it is superior, through a
definite effort upon the part of the school to strengthen them. The same
principle is being applied to education in hygiene. Why should not the
church and Sunday school adopt similar methods and undertake a definite
system of encouraging the home to give moral and religious education in
an adequate fashion, rather than attempt to give homeopathic doses to
children _en masse_? Why should not the church, or the school, or both,
give parents instruction and inspiration as to how to educate their
children in matters of sex, about which they are in the best position to
gain their confidence? Should not our clubs and social organizations,
for men and women, boys and girls, face the question, as to whether
their aggregate activities are unduly competing with the home, and
should they not give definite thought as to how they may assist and
strengthen the basic institution of our social organization? If the home
is the essential primary social institution, then its well-being should
command the consideration of every institution of the community; for the
function and objectives of the home cannot be determined solely by
either its own ideals and purposes, or by the values established by the
various special interest groups. The home and the community institutions
are constantly in a process of adapting themselves to each other, and to
the extent that each recognizes the function of the other and is willing
to coöperate rather than to compete, is the highest success of each made
possible.
This problem of the relation of the home to the community is a
relatively new one, and is largely the result of better means of
communication which have enlarged the horizon of every farm home. When
the life of the child was almost wholly within the home and the
neighborhood, the parents gave themselves little concern about the
influence or conditions of the larger community. But when her children
go to a consolidated school and their school associates are unknown to
her, when they attend the movies in the village, and when they read the
local weekly or the city daily newspaper and the monthly magazines, so
that they know what is going on throughout the world, then, if she be
wise, a mother commences to realize that the community is having a
growing influence in shaping their character and that however ideal the
home may be, it is but a part of their lives. She commences to
appreciate that she must have an understanding of the life and forces of
the community so that she may use her influence toward making their
social environment what it should be and so that she may be able to make
the home so attractive that it will hold their primary interest and
loyalty. Thus community problems of health, of education, of recreation
and social life, and of religion become inter-related with those of the
home. The successful homemaker can no longer concern herself solely with
home-management, but must assume her share of responsibility in
community-management, or "community housekeeping."
With the new responsibilities of suffrage rural women are following the
example of their city sisters in taking a larger interest in civic
affairs and social legislation, and with a most wholesome influence on
community life. There is, however, some danger that while the men are
engaged with their business problems, these social problems will be too
largely left to the women;[7] for without the sympathetic understanding
and hearty coöperation of their husbands, rural women will find that
their new social ideals will materialize but slowly. Here again, such
family organizations as the Grange, the Church, and Farm and Home
Bureau, in which community activities engage both men and women are
peculiarly serviceable.
An interesting example of how the family may function in community life
is found in a small town in southern Michigan (Centerville) where the
people have established a coöperative motion picture theater, to which
the families buy season tickets, and where one may find whole families
together enjoying the best pictures to the accompaniment of a community
orchestra. This is also being accomplished in many community buildings.
On the other hand the home need not abdicate all of its old-time
functions as a social center. A few years ago in attending a rural
community conference at the University of Illinois I was interested to
hear a farm woman, a graduate of that university, tell how she and her
neighbors had held amateur dramatic entertainments on their front
verandas during the summer. The young people took the parts and the
audience sat on the lawn, and thus many families were brought under the
influence of the better homes who would not have thought of visiting
them. When winter came on, these entertainments were continued in a
slightly different manner, so that neighboring families were brought
into contact without any tendency toward undue intimacy between families
which would not associate otherwise. Family parties for young and old,
should by no means be abandoned in favor of community parties, however
satisfactory and attractive the latter may be.
The social responsibility of the rural home must receive new
recognition, for the day when we can live to ourselves in the enjoyment
of a select group of personal friends is rapidly passing, if we are to
have satisfactory social conditions. It is one of the bad effects of the
increasing amount of tenancy in our best farming sections, and of the
frequent changing of farm ownership, that the shifting of residence
makes it difficult for the family to secure a satisfactory social
position in the community life.
In the last analysis, however, the largest contribution of the home to
the community and the best means of solving the problem of its relation
to community life, is in the development of the best social attitudes
among its members toward each other and toward the life of the
community; for all sound social organization is but an application of
the relations of the family to the affairs of larger social groups, and
unless attitudes of mutual aid, common responsibility, and voluntary
loyalty, are maintained in the home, so that its relations form a norm
for all other human groups, rural society will have lost the chief
dynamic of social progress.
FOOTNOTES:
[5] From "The Farm Woman's Problems," Florence E. Ward. U. S. Dept. of
Agriculture, Circular 148 (1920).
[6] _Ibid._, pp. 14, 15.
[7] Benjamin Kidd claims that this superior interest of women in race
welfare is due to woman's cultural inheritance and that from the very
nature of the division of labor between man and woman, man is less
capable than woman of devoting himself to human welfare. "But the fact
of the age which goes deeper than any other is that the male mind of the
race as the result of the conditions out of which it has come, is by
itself incapable of rendering this service to civilization. It is in the
mind of woman that the winning peoples of the world will find the
psychic center of Power in the future."--"The Science of Power," p.
241.
CHAPTER III
THE COMMUNITY'S PEOPLE AND HISTORY
The community is composed of people in a certain area, but the community
may be dead or it may be alive. The _life_ of the community is
determined by the degree to which its people are able to act together
for the best promotion of their common welfare. This ability to act
together will obviously depend upon the extent to which the people have
common aims and purposes. If the people of a community form distinct
groups with diverse ideals and purposes, it will be much more difficult
to secure that sympathy, tolerance, and understanding which are
necessary for united action, than if they are more alike. Yet it is just
such diversity of interests of different elements in the community which
gives rise to community problems and which brings about an appreciation
of the need of developing community life.
It is necessary, therefore, to have some appreciation of how the
characteristics of its population influence community life.
In the first place, a community of people of different nationalities or
races, or sometimes even of people from different states, find it much
more difficult to secure a common loyalty than if they were of one
stock. It is, of course, quite true that many an old community of a
single stock is divided by family, religious or political feuds; yet
usually there is more solidarity between people of common traditions and
culture. The largest problem in the so-called "Americanization" of
foreigners in rural communities is to get the natives to understand and
appreciate the newcomers and to realize that the future of the community
depends upon mutual respect and good will. Had we a little more of an
historical perspective, we would remember that all of our ancestors were
"foreigners" but a few generations back. In almost every part of the
United States are communities in which alien groups form one of the
chief obstacles to a better community life. Throughout the South, the
most fundamental problem is that of a better understanding between the
two races, and until some means of amicable adjustment is attempted,
there is little prospect for the development of community life. In some
of our best agricultural sections there have been successive waves of
immigration of different nationalities. Thus in Dane County, Wisconsin,
of which Madison--the state capital--is the county seat, Dr. J. H.
Kolb[8] describes communities in which Germans, Norwegians, and Swiss
have largely supplanted the original settlers from New England. In an
interesting study of Americanization in a community in the Connecticut
Valley of Massachusetts, John Daniels[9] has described how the French
Canadians and Irish and then the Poles have taken up the land, and how
good feeling between them and the native Yankees was gradually
established. On the other hand, a nearby community in southern New York
comes to mind, in which there is a colony of Bohemians, and another of
Finns, which have been fairly successful in building up hill farms
deserted by the descendants of the original settlers, and yet the
community as a whole has done little toward making these people feel
that they are a part of its life, although their industry is one of its
largest economic assets. "America is the home of the free" and most of
our people do desire a real democracy, but we seem to have assumed that
it will develop spontaneously, and we have not appreciated that good
will and common understanding require some means of acquaintance and
exchange of ideas, and that the interests and desires of all the people
in a community, young and old, must receive recognition. Unless we can
establish democracy in our own local community, how can we expect it in
the state or nation?
A second factor in community life is the age of its people. How often do
you find a community composed chiefly of elderly people which is
progressive? In the more progressive communities are not the middle-aged
and young married people in control? The younger people desire better
advantages for themselves and particularly for their children, and so
they stand for better schools, better churches, and better facilities
for all phases of community life. It is largely for this reason, it
seems to me, that older communities seem to have cycles of relative
decline and progress, according to the proportion of older and younger
people. It is to be hoped that in future generations the ability to
"keep young" may become more common; indeed, this is one of the chief
objectives of modern education.
The density of population is also a determining factor with regard to
many phases of community life, for it is obviously much easier to carry
on many community activities where the people live fairly close together
and not very far from the community center, than where the country is
but sparsely settled. Even with automobiles and telephones, the distance
between homes will have a large influence in determining the nature of
community activities. One of the most difficult of our rural problems
is how to bring to the people in sparsely settled regions the advantages
which they rightly crave. It will be physically and economically
impossible for them to have as good opportunities as sections which are
more densely settled, but ways must be found whereby a larger degree of
equality of opportunity is available to more thinly inhabited
communities.
Changes in population immediately affect community needs. Where
immigration is increasing rapidly, institutions such as schools,
churches, and stores are often inadequate, and there is every incentive
toward the development of community spirit and united effort to meet the
common needs. On the other hand, in the older sections decreasing
populations make it impossible to maintain as many institutions as
formerly. Many an eastern community has inherited two or three churches,
which were once well filled, but which now merely serve to divide the
community as none of them are able to operate successfully, though it is
obvious that unless the people are more loyal to their common needs than
to their differences that the community will be unable to survive.
In relatively new communities, and often for several generations, the
influence of the original settlement of the community may have a strong
effect on its life. Thus where a new section is settled by acquaintances
from an older community, by relatives, or those of one church, there is
a bond between them from the beginning, but where land is settled by
homesteaders from different sections, the process of establishing common
ideals and purposes is a gradual one. Many a community in the middle
west still bears the stamp of its original settlers. About in the center
of West Virginia is the little community of French Creek which was
settled by a few New England families a little over a hundred years
ago. A recent study[10] of this community shows that it has had a
powerful influence in the educational life of the whole state, and that
its progressive spirit is largely traceable to "an ancestry of energetic
people with high ideals which have been passed on by each generation."
On the other hand, in many cases this influence is soon lost, due to
some radical change in local conditions and the influx of new elements.
Its history plays an exceedingly large rôle in advancing or retarding
community development. History and tradition are the memory of the
community; they bring to mind its past experiences. Common ancestors and
common participation in important events in the past give a sense of
identity and heighten community consciousness. Pride in the history of
the community is like pride in a good family, and is a strong factor in
maintaining the standards of its people. Of course the past may be one
of which no one is proud and which they may prefer to forget, but this
is a spur to new endeavor as it is to a family to attain a new status.
Community life is likely to be at a low ebb where there is but little
knowledge of, or interest in, the history of its past. I was recently
impressed with this in visiting a small inland community, which was not
without many events of interest in its earlier development. I failed,
however, to find any connected records of the community's past or any of
its people who know much of its history. So far as I could learn there
had been few celebrations or community activities for many years and
there was a general feeling that the community had been on the down
grade and needed redirection. It seemed to me that one of the things
which might arouse community loyalty in this instance would be for its
people to clean up some of the old neighborhood cemeteries where many of
the early pioneers lie buried, and which are now grown up and unkept.
Then I think of another community where every few years on important
anniversary events the history of an organization or of the community as
a whole is related and often published in the local press. Its past has
no more striking events than that of the locality last mentioned, but
these people have pride in their community and their loyalty is renewed
on these anniversary occasions.
Miss Emily F. Hoag[11] has recently given a good picture of how the
history of their community has been made to live in the hearts of the
people of Belleville, New York, through their loyalty to the old Union
Academy, and she has given a fine example of how a community may be
brought to a realization of the contribution which it has made to the
life of the state and nation.
Only by a knowledge of the community's history can the nature and origin
of the attitudes of its people be understood. A generation or two ago,
perchance, there was a quarrel between two families which was carried
into the school meeting, and to this day two factions have persisted.
The attitudes of the people in many a progressive town may be directly
traced to the influence of some outstanding leaders--a teacher,
minister, or doctor, perhaps--long since gone to their reward. A village
fire, the coming of a railroad or its deflection to a nearby town, a
bank failure, a prohibition crusade, the establishment of a library are
but a few examples of events which form crises in the life of every
community and which have a far-reaching and subtle effect in moulding
its character.
The cultivation of a knowledge of its own history is, therefore, one of
the first duties of a community which seeks to understand itself so that
it may better direct its life. Every community should maintain a record
of its history, and have some means of preserving important historical
material. The New York legislature has recently passed an act
authorizing any township or village board to appoint a local historian,
without salary, and to furnish safe storage for historical records. One
of the most progressive rural communities in the country is the Quaker
settlement at Sandy Spring, Maryland,[12] whose first historian was
appointed in 1863 and whose historian reads the record of the year at
each annual meeting. These "Annals" form a most intimate account of the
community's progress. The custom of some rural newspapers of publishing
local history of the past year on New Year's Day serves much the same
purpose.
One of the best means of encouraging historical appreciation, and one
which is very generally neglected, is the teaching of local history in
the schools. Educators have learned that it is more pedagogical to
commence instruction in geography with the local environment of the
child, which it can know and understand, than to begin--as
formerly--with the nebular hypothesis; but they are only commencing to
appreciate that the same principle applies to the teaching of history.
Is it not true that most children can glibly recite dates and events in
the history of their own and foreign countries, of whose significance
they have only a vague appreciation, but who never secure any real
historical point of view or an appreciation of the importance of history
because it has not been made concrete and intimate, as must be the case
in considering local events? If national history is taught to develop
patriotism, why should not local history be taught to inspire civic
loyalty? Such a study of the efforts and sacrifices of former citizens
would bring a new sense of obligation to be worthy of the heritage they
have bequeathed, and would gradually establish an attitude of loyalty to
the community which would be considered as essential to respectability
as devotion to one's country. Indeed, how can one be truly loyal to a
great country which is mostly unknown to him if he is not loyal to the
people with whom he lives day by day in his home community?
One of the best means of reviving interest in the community's past is
through the production of an historical pageant, which is discussed on
page 161; for as the people act together the events of the past, they
gain a new realization of what they owe to the life of the community in
bygone days, and come to appreciate that men come and men go but the
community continues and perpetuates their influence for better or for
worse.
Socrates' injunction to "know thyself" is the epitome of wisdom for the
community as it is for the individual. The first step in this process of
self-acquaintance is to secure an accurate knowledge of the kinds of
people which compose the community, and how its past is influencing its
present.
FOOTNOTES:
[8] "Rural Primary Groups," a study of agricultural neighborhoods.
Research Bulletin 51, Agr. Exp. Station of the University of Wisconsin,
Madison, 1921.
[9] "America via the Neighborhood," p. 419, D. Appleton & Co., 1920.
[10] A. J. Dadisman, "French Creek as a Rural Community," Bulletin 176,
Agricultural Experiment Station, West Virginia University, June, 1921.
[11] "The National Influence of a Single Farm Community," Bulletin 984,
United States Department of Agriculture, Dec., 1921.
[12] See "A Rural Survey of Maryland," Dept. of Church and Country Life,
Board of Home Missions of the Presbyterian Church in the U. S. A., 1912;
reprinted in part in N. L. Sims' "The Rural Community," p. 227, New
York, Scribners, 1920.
CHAPTER IV
COMMUNICATION THE MEANS OF COMMUNITY LIFE
We have seen that the real life of the community depends on common
interests and the ability of its people to act together. This having
things in common is the basis of all community and is achieved only
through the exchange of ideas by various means of communication. Without
communication there would be no community and no civilization. It is
man's ability to communicate through spoken and written language that
has made him _human_. Man is more than animal because he can exchange
ideas with his fellows, and can profit by the experience of the race.
This power of communication creates a new world for him in which he
lives on a different plane from all other living things. The very words
_community_ and _communication_, both derived from _communis_--common,
indicate their relation to each other; _community_--the having in
common, _communication_--the making common.[13]
Until modern times practically all communication between the masses of
the people was by word of mouth. The people of the old world lived
together in villages which were largely self-dependent, and only the
higher classes were educated to read and write. There was little
opportunity for contact with the outside world, and the people felt
little need of better means of communication. It has been frequently
asserted that isolation has been the chief rural problem in America. The
reason for the dissatisfaction with life on isolated farms is better
appreciated when we remember that during all previous history men have
lived together in close association and their whole mode of thought,
customs, attitudes, and desires have been formed in the intimate life of
compact groups. It is but natural, therefore, that life on the isolated
farm with but few contacts with others than immediate neighbors should
become irksome and that town and city have had a peculiar attraction for
farm people.
We cannot here examine the causes and history of the development of our
modern means of communication, but we must recognize that it is due to
them that rural community life as we are coming to know it in the United
States is made possible. Without these newer facilities for more
frequent association and exchange of ideas, rural life would still be
confined to the small local neighborhood.
At the same time, the railroad and trolley have abolished the isolation
of the rural community and have made possible the diversion of local
interests and loyalties to larger centers. Thus while communication aids
the integration of the community it affords equal facilities for its
disruption. Doubtless some of the smaller community centers will be
unable to compete with the attraction of nearby larger centers, but
there seems no good reason to believe that better communication will
injure the best life of communities which are of sufficient size to
support the institutions which will command local loyalty. This dual
influence of means of communication on the internal and external
relations of rural communities creates some of the chief problems of
rural social organization, for the increase of means of communication in
the past two or three generations has been more momentous and has had a
more far-reaching effect on human relations than in all the previous
centuries since the invention of writing.
A brief survey of the more important of these new agencies will indicate
how they affect the relations of the farmer to his community and to
other communities. These may be considered under the two general heads
of means of transportation, and means for the exchange of ideas.
As long as transportation was by wagon and by boat, commerce was slow
and expensive; each community was compelled to be largely
self-dependent, and life was isolated to an extent that it is difficult
for us to conceive. Anderson has well stated the situation when he says:
"Merchandise and produce that could not stand a freight of
fifteen dollars per ton could not be carried overland to a
consumer one hundred and fifty miles from the point of
production; as roads were, a distance of fifty miles from
the market often made industrial independence
expedient."[14]
It was the steam railroad which made larger markets available, made
possible the growth of our large cities and the opening up of new lands
distant from markets. The railroad and manufacturing by power machinery
put an end to the "age of homespun," and made it more profitable for the
farmer to sell his products and to purchase his manufactured goods in
exchange. The railroad, and the markets which it made available, changed
the village center from a place of local barter to a shipping point and
so tended to center the economic life of larger areas in the villages
with railroad stations. Better local roads were necessary and business
tended to become centralized in the village. The numerous wayside
taverns along the main highways disappeared, as did the neighborhood
mill and blacksmith shop. The railroad, more than any other one factor,
has determined the location of our rural community centers.
The electric railroad made the village centers more available to farm
people and gave transportation facilities to many villages without
railroads, but it also made it possible for the people of smaller
communities to go to the larger centers for trading and other
advantages. Trolleys have made it possible for many farm children to get
to high school who could not otherwise have attended and have enabled
those living near them to more easily get back and forth from the
village centers for all phases of community life. On the whole, however,
they have probably carried more traffic between communities, and it
seems strange that they have not more generally been able to find a
profit in hauling produce from the farms to the nearest markets or
shipping stations.
Of more importance to community life has been the development of good
roads, a movement which did not get under way until the present century
and which was chiefly due to the rural free mail delivery and the
automobile. The change in rural life due to automotive vehicles can
hardly be exaggerated. In our best agricultural states practically every
farmer has his automobile. He can get to the community center as quickly
as the business man or laborer gets to his work in the average city, and
can go to the county seat or neighboring city as quickly as one can
drive to the business section from the more distant parts of New York or
Chicago. Auto-bus lines radiate from most of our small cities, and auto
trucks not only bring freight from nearby wholesale centers, but are
rapidly supplanting horses for hauling farm produce to the shipping
station or market.
As good roads have been due chiefly to state and county, and more
recently to national aid, it is but natural that they should have been
constructed where the traffic is heaviest connecting the main centers.
What is now most needed to build up the local communities is a
systematic development of the principal local roads radiating from the
community centers.
Good roads and automobiles have made possible a new sort of a local
community, which could never have existed without them. Consider the
present possibility of consolidated schools with auto-busses to haul the
children; the numbers of automobiles which come in from the farms to
every village center where there is a band concert or movie show; the
ability to get in the "flivver" after supper and ride to a relative's or
friend's on the other side of the town and be back for early bedtime;
and one can perceive how the people in a community area are bound
together and develop common interests in new advantages made possible by
their ability to get together easily and quickly. How could the county
agricultural agent or the visiting nurse cover a county as effectively
as they now do without the automobile? The rural community can now enjoy
the services of expert paid executives in many fields of work as diverse
as a county commercial club secretary, a Boy Scout leader, a Sunday
school executive, or county health officer, because the county has
become a unit which can be covered as easily as a city and is large
enough to support such a division of labor as no one community could
enjoy. We shall have occasion to refer to many county organizations and
agencies which not only build up the county and the county seat, but
which strengthen the life of every community which they serve, and whose
work is very largely possible because of good roads and automobiles.
Where bad roads still exist many of these services must wait and less
community life is possible.
Nor does the home lose with the community advancement due to better
transportation. Surely it is better to have the children living at home
than boarding in the village while they attend high school; the doctor
is secured more quickly and the visiting nurse is available; and the
family can come and go as a family because less time is required and
there is no waiting for the horses to feed, or to get rested.
It is true of course that the automobile makes it possible for people to
go to the larger towns and other village centers, and to visit their
particular friends and relatives in neighboring communities, and thus
seems to furnish means for breaking down and stratifying community life.
These tendencies exist, but they will not seriously injure the community
which has anything worth while for its people. Better transportation
simply makes possible a more highly organized community life, and any
complex organization is the more easily deranged; a complex machine or a
high-bred animal is more susceptible to injury than a simple tool or
scrub. Many ministers have railed against the automobile, while others
have used it to fill their pews. We cannot get away from that oldest of
paradoxes, first learned by Father Adam, that every new good has
possibilities of evil. A certain type of mind has always enjoyed
condemning every new invention as "of the Devil," and yet the world wags
on and no one who knows them would go back to "the good old days."
The automobile has brought new ideas both to the community and to the
farm and home. Farmers and their wives are traveling by auto much more
than they ever did by train, and it is impossible not to pick up new
ideas. One of the most effective educational devices is the farm tour in
which a group of Farm Bureau members travel from one farm to another
studying the methods of farming, and the women have adopted the idea for
an inspection of farm homes.
To discuss all the effects of automotive vehicles--cycle, car, truck,
bus, and tractor--on farm life would fill a book in itself: space
forbids except for incidental mention in the following chapters.
Turning to the mechanisms for the transmission of ideas, we appreciate
the even more wonderful inventions which have brought the whole world to
the farmer's door.
A generation ago farmers went several miles to the nearest postoffice
for their mail, and usually got it but two or three times a week. To-day
over the greater part of the country it is delivered to them daily, and
they can ship small packages by parcels post from their doors. This
daily delivery has greatly widened the circulation of the daily
newspapers and magazines of all sorts, and has given farm people a new
knowledge and a livelier interest in city and world-wide affairs. The
parcel post has made the mail-order business, but it is even more
beneficial to the local merchant who can fill a telephone order and mail
it to a customer for less expense than delivery costs in the city.
Correspondence and advertising by farm people have greatly increased. It
is true that the abolition of many rural postoffices has destroyed an
old-time rendezvous, but farmers probably go to the community center
more frequently than formerly. A more unfortunate feature of the rural
delivery service is that it often gives the farmer a mail address at a
postoffice of a community where he rarely goes, and fails to indicate
the community in which he is located to one unacquainted with the local
geography (see page 232).
Even more important as an aid to community activities is the telephone.
Visiting is now done more over the phone than in person, but
conversation can be had with any one in the community at any time, and
isolation is banished. The telephone has brought a larger protection to
the farm home in calling the doctor, police, or fire assistance. The
economic value of the phone soon became apparent for the distribution of
market reports and weather forecasts or for ordering goods or repairs
from town, and the marvelous wireless telephone will greatly extend
these services. The Extension Service of the Kansas Agricultural College
is installing a wireless outfit which will receive market and weather
reports and will transmit them to the farm bureau offices at the county
seats, where they may be relayed through the local telephones to every
farmer. Thus world-wide conditions may be flashed to the farmer's
fireside. Within the community the telephone has made possible a degree
of organization hitherto impossible. Meetings are called, committees are
assembled, or their business is done over the phone, so that both social
and economic life are greatly stimulated.
The farmer is sometimes chided for not having organized rural life more
effectively. The simple reason is that he has not had the mechanisms
whereby he could do so. With only mud roads and horses people could get
together but infrequently, and arrangements had to be made when they
were together. City life was better organized because people could get
together more easily. To-day both time and space have been so largely
overcome that communication in the country is almost as rapid as in the
city and more effective organization is possible.
Better transportation, mail, and telephone service have made available
agencies for the communication of ideas, previously accessible only to
the few or patronized so infrequently by those further away as to
furnish too small a constituency for their successful maintenance. The
free public library is a powerful educational agency, but many a
community has been too small for its support. Now county library systems
are being organized--thanks to automobiles--which give branch stations
to every community (see p. 102). Lyceum courses of lectures and
entertainments, chautauqua courses, public forums for the discussion of
current problems, and last, but not least, the moving picture shows with
their pictures of important events from all parts of the world and
showing life from Central Africa to the Antipodes, all of these are
agencies for bringing new ideas to the rural community, and are becoming
increasingly common as better transportation makes it possible for the
people to utilize them. The fact that these agencies must be located
where they can serve the largest number of people, determines their
location at the community centers and they are thus a large factor in
unifying the community.
Modern transportation has abolished the isolation of the farm and new
means of communication have freed the spirit of the farmer and brought
the world to his doors. Together they make possible so many
satisfactions heretofore only available to the cities, as to quite
revolutionize the whole aspect of rural life. They give a new position
to the rural community and to the farmer's status in it.
FOOTNOTES:
[13] Community is derived from the Old English word _commonty_ which
came to mean "the body of the common people, commons." Communication is
from the Latin _communicare_, also derived from _communis_--common, and
_ic_ (the formative of factitive verbs)--to make, or to make common.
[14] "The Country Town," p. 20.
CHAPTER V
THE FARM AND THE VILLAGE
We have seen that an active community must focus its life at some
center, and that this center is usually a village which has been
established primarily for business purposes. The relation of the
American village to the surrounding farms is historically unique and is
largely due to the rapidity and ease with which large areas of the
United States were settled after the advent of railroads. In the
colonial period and the early days of the New West, every settlement was
so isolated that it was obliged to be largely self-sufficient.
Transportation was slow and uncertain and prohibitive for other than the
necessities which could not be locally produced. Under these conditions
the farmer and village business man were so inter-dependent that they
were forced to consider each other's interests. But when settlement
became safer and transportation easier the homesteaders took up their
claims without relation to village connections; they traded where it was
most convenient, and their social life centered largely in the immediate
neighborhood and in the district school and country church. On the other
hand the village was settled by men who came primarily for business. The
spirit of the age was that of competition and they came primarily for
profits. Their business came from the farms, but they felt little sense
of obligation to them. Every village was a potential city in their eyes
and its growth and the rise of real estate values was of more concern to
them than the development of the community's basic industry of
agriculture. The village craftsman and business man gets most of his
living from the farms and it should be to his interest to give them the
best of service, but more and more he has become primarily a business
man or craftsman, coming to the village to "make money" and moving on
when he sees better opportunities elsewhere. His business and craft
affiliations link him to the centers of commercial and industrial life
in the cities, and he is strongly inclined to take the city's point of
view. Particularly has this been the case with the country banker who
has so largely controlled the economic life of the village and
countryside. Too often he has inevitably been more largely influenced by
the interests of eastern capital and the mortgage owners than by the
real needs of his local constituency.
The result has been an increasing friction between the villages and the
farms, and we have come to think of them as two separate groups or
interests rather than as essential and inter-dependent parts of a social
area--the community. The literature of country life and of rural
sociology has very rightly recognized the existing situation, but many
writers seem to accept the division between village and farm as
inevitable, and even question whether there can be a rural community of
the type herein described, rather than to recognize that this is but a
necessary stage in the beginning of community life, due to the mode of
settlement and temporary conditions.
This friction between farmer and villager has been most acute in the
Middle West and has found its extreme expression in the Non-partisan
League Movement, which has engendered a degree of bitterness between the
two factions which cannot be permanently maintained without serious
injury to their common interests. This, however, is only an attempt of
the farmers to secure redress through political control, and is but the
political form of expression of a protest which is being more
effectively made as an economic movement through coöperative buying and
selling agencies, particularly strong in Kansas and Nebraska, but
rapidly spreading throughout the country.
Some rural leaders would have us believe that the interests of the
village and the farm are fundamentally antagonistic and irreconcilable.
They advocate that the consolidated school or high school be placed in
the open country where it will be uncontaminated by the urban-mindedness
of the village; that the grange is the farmers' organization and is
sufficient for him and has no need of affiliating itself with the
affairs of the village; that the farmers should develop their own
coöperative stores and selling agencies so that they can be economically
independent of the "parasitic" trader of the village. Such a naïve point
of view has a certain logical simplicity which is based on the
presupposition that conflict is inevitable and that justice and equity
can be secured only through dominance. The same line of reasoning finds
no solution of the problem of capital and labor, or of the interests of
producer as over against consumer, except in strong organization and
eternal economic conflict. It is apparent that there is much
justification for this view and that it seems in many cases to be a
necessary stage in the adjustment of interests, but that it is either
inevitable or a permanent necessity is controverted both by experience
and by a more thorough analysis of the relationships involved.
There is no gainsaying the fact that conflict has been one of the chief
agencies of human progress in the past; but neither can it be disputed
that coöperation, or mutual aid, has been of equal importance. Neither
attitude can be conceived as primary or dominant; they have interacted
throughout the history of mankind. Fundamentally, the problem of the
relationship of these two phases of life is much the same as that of the
nature and function of good and evil. The one cannot exist without the
other, and both are relative terms. Our present thought on these
problems has been too largely dominated by a wrong interpretation of the
theory of the survival of the fittest as the primary force in human
evolution. We have assumed, and the German militarists carried the
doctrine to a logical conclusion, that this hypothesis gave the sanction
of a biological law to a competitive struggle between men. But such an
inference was explicitly denied by Charles Darwin,[15] and has no
biological foundation. The struggle he described is between species and
not between members of the same species. On the other hand, we find
throughout nature that those species have been most successful which
have developed the most effective means of mutual aid.[16] Thus our
economic and political thought has been dominated for the past two or
three generations with a blind worship of the dogma of unrestrained
competition, which has no basis of proof either in biological or social
science.
When we examine what has gone on in the older sections of our country
and project the present tendencies into the future, we get a different
point of view, and come to see that only by an adjustment of the
relations of the village and the farm to each other can the best life of
both be secured. We shall have occasion in subsequent chapters to
consider the social and political problems involved, but let us here
discuss merely the economic relations, which have been the chief source
of discord.
In the first place if we examine the situation in the older parts of the
country we find a much more cordial relation between village and country
than farther west, and a greater sense of belonging to a community. The
reasons for this cannot be discussed in detail, but a large factor is
the increasing tendency to centralize institutions; school, church,
grange, lodge, stores, etc.; in the village as the country becomes
older, roads are better, and higher standards develop. Furthermore, the
relative status of the farmer changes the situation. In the older parts
of the country most of the capital needed to supply credit to farmers
and their business organizations comes from within the locality, whereas
in the newer sections they are dependent upon outside capital. In the
older sections where land has become more valuable and wealth has
accumulated, the farmer as well as the villager is a bank director, and
the amount of capital which the farmer has invested in his business is
often much greater than that of the village business man. When the
farmer comes into town in his first-class automobile as frequently as he
desires, he has a very different status from former days. The
"banker-farmer" movement, which started as an effort of the banker to
assist the farmer in better methods of production and marketing, has now
become a "farmer-banker" movement in which the country banker has been
forced to give new thought to the credit facilities of his patrons, and
is already challenging the justice of the country's credit facilities
being dominated by the large city banks which are chiefly interested in
financing industry and commerce.
There is no question that in many a rural town there are too many
stores, as there are in the cities, that in many cases their service is
very inefficient, and occasionally their prices are exorbitant, but
several forces are already tending to remedy these evils where they
occur, and improvement may be hastened by intelligent and constructive
discussion. Thus exorbitant prices or poor service has made possible the
large sales of the mail-order houses, but the total volume of their
business in most localities is relatively small and their competition
has probably been beneficial to the wide-awake merchant. For first-class
merchants have been able to show that they can meet the mail-order
prices if the customer is willing to pay cash, and the advertising of
the mail-order houses has undoubtedly increased the wants of the average
farm household. In a recent address Dr. C. J. Galpin has pointed out
that one of the shortcomings of the average country merchant is that he
has not studied the needs of his patrons and brought to their attention
new inventions and the better grades of goods. He holds that the higher
standard of living of city people is largely due to the fact that
attractive goods and better equipment are constantly brought to their
attention in the shop windows and by salesmen.
The coöperative buying of farm supplies and machinery, which is now
assuming such large proportions, is due not merely to an effort to
secure lower prices, but to secure better goods. It is a notorious fact
that for many years the farmer has had to buy inferior fertilizers and
feeds from local dealers because they were all he could get. Both mixed
feeds and fertilizers have been sold under certain brands on much the
same principle as patent medicines, until the farmer has organized his
own agencies to secure their manufacture in accordance with the best
scientific formulas. This has been primarily due to a short-sighted
policy on the part of manufacturers, but it has done greater injury to
the retailer who, in general, has made little effort to learn the real
needs of his trade and supply it with the best goods. The same has been
true of seeds and agricultural machinery. As a result of this one of the
chief claims of such a coöperative agency as the New York
Grange-League-Federation Exchange is that it is able not only to sell at
a lower price but to furnish the best quality. The wide-awake country
merchant has been keen to appreciate these facts and wherever he has
studied his trade and devoted himself to its interests he has built up a
successful business. The "Country Gentleman" has done a real service in
recently publishing a series of articles by A. B. MacDonald which have
described the successes of a few of the outstanding "Big Country
Merchants."
The "chain store" has not as yet invaded the village, but it is rapidly
gaining a foothold in the smaller cities and village merchants may as
well prepare for its competition, for there seems no good reason why its
greater buying power and superior organization should not enable it to
undersell the local merchant if the customer is willing to pay cash. As
yet all chain stores are on a cash basis and this would seem to prevent
their gaining much of the business of the farmer who has depended on
long time credit. But the coöperative stores, which do business only for
cash, have solved the credit problem by establishing credit facilities
whereby short-time loans may be made and a credit established against
which purchases are charged. There is no question that both farmer and
merchant would be better off if credit were carried by a financial
institution. The farmer is being rapidly educated in business practices,
and it will be surprising if some enterprising corporation does not
establish a chain of village stores which will do a cash business, but
which will arrange for separate credit on a strictly business basis. If
one looks at the trend of business in the cities and towns during recent
years, he cannot but come to the conviction that either country
merchants will have to get together so as to pool their purchasing power
and get the advantages of expert assistance in advertising, accounting,
store arrangement, and other technical services which the chain store
enjoys, or they will be forced to content themselves with the poorer and
less profitable class of trade. I have seen no studies of the matter,
but it would be interesting to know how large an amount of farmer trade
is now enjoyed by the chain groceries in our larger towns. My own
impression is that they are a much more serious competitor of the small
country merchant than is the mail-order house. These are but a few of
the forces which will bring better service from the village merchant.
There are also ways in which farmers may secure better service without
attempting to operate a coöperative store of their own or deserting the
local merchants. Farm Bureau associations have in numerous cases made
arrangements with a local dealer whereby he would handle their seeds,
fertilizers, or spraying materials at a specified rate of profit, upon
condition that they give him all their trade in these articles and place
their orders in advance. This principle of collective buying through an
established merchant at an agreed rate of profit has much to commend it,
and is being utilized by the Grange-League-Federation Exchange in New
York state to take care of its local business as far as possible. The
fact is that the profits of a strictly coöperative store, after paying
the salary of a competent manager and other costs of operation, which
would make a very attractive income for a single merchant, do not make a
dividend to each of its many patrons much more than a good rate of
interest on the total cost of purchases. It may as well be recognized
that unless there be a strong loyalty to the coöperative principle by a
considerable group of patrons and unless there be peculiar need of a
coöperative store that it is not a mechanism which will automatically
secure much lower prices or superior service, for the success of the
enterprise depends primarily on the manager and if he be competent, he
must be paid sufficient to command not only his services but his loyalty
and initiative. The coöperative store will find it good business to have
a profit-sharing arrangement with its manager and employees, if it
expects to secure the same service from them that may be secured from
the better merchants. On the other hand, if by pooling their buying
power a group of farmers can throw their business to one merchant in
consideration of his selling at a specified profit, even if only for a
particular line of goods, they get the advantage of their collective
purchasing power and have none of the responsibility for maintaining the
business. Although it is my belief that the coöperative principle is
essentially sound and must ultimately dominate our business life, yet it
will need to find means of giving larger incentive to its managers if it
is to compete with the best individual business men. After all, what is
wanted is to get business on a functional basis, and if this can be
accomplished by means of collective buying through an established
business which furnishes its own capital and management, the farmer is
the gainer. The essential thing is that business be put on the basis of
public service rather than private profit. When that principle is
recognized as being the only sound basis of our economic system, then
the methods of business organization will be determined by what
experience shows to be most advantageous to the community, and it may
well be that true "_coöperative competition_" between individual
merchants and coöperative stores may exist side by side with advantage
to all concerned.
Another factor in rural community life is the increase of industrial
establishments in villages and small towns. There can be no question
that the centralization of industry in our large cities, which has
proceeded so rapidly since the development of steam power, has now
passed its maximum and that there will be a considerable
decentralization of certain industries which can be operated profitably
in small units. The metropolitan city has passed its maximum of
economic efficiency for many phases of manufacturing, if economic
efficiency is judged by its power to produce "well-being," rather than
mere wealth. We have been obsessed with the glamour of the bigness of
the modern city and we are but beginning to seriously question its real
efficiency. The possibility of superior living conditions in a small
town are now being recognized both by employer and laborer, and better
transportation and the development of electric power lines make possible
the organization of certain of our large industries in small units. As
this process proceeds the business of the village and small town will no
longer be chiefly dependent on agriculture and there will be a further
need for accommodation of the different interests of the community. Here
again, some see only loss to rural life; but if one examines the
situation more thoroughly, mutual advantages are equally apparent. If
the farmers are organized for coöperative selling, they will be
benefited by the better local markets, which are the backbone of the
agricultural economy of so prosperous a country as France. Certain local
industries, whose production is of a seasonal nature, might so arrange
their operation that some of their labor might be available to work on
the neighboring farms during the rush season. Even more important would
be the increased purchasing power of the community, making possible
better stores and business and professional services of all sorts, and
the increase of wealth which would make possible the support of better
schools, churches, and social advantages of all sorts. It is, of course,
true that the introduction of industry in not a few cases seems to have
lowered the standards of community life, but this is by no means
universal or inevitable.
One of the unfortunate phases of the efforts of small communities to
secure industrial plants is that they often secure establishments which
are not adapted to local conditions or whose financial status is
insecure, and the enterprise inevitably results in failure, with
discouragement to all concerned. There is great need for county chambers
of commerce or commercial clubs with skilled commercial executives as
secretaries who can give the same expert service to the business life of
the small rural communities that the cities now have. The business life
of the community might profit as much from such a service as the farms
have from the expert assistance afforded through the Farm Bureaus.[17]
We have been considering the economic relations of the farm and the
village as affecting community life, for they are at present the chief
factor in creating community interest, as well as the leading cause of
group friction. The rural community of to-day is primarily an economic
unit, but in the future it seems probable that business will occupy a
relatively less important place than the social activities of the
community center. Not that there will necessarily be less business,
although the widening of markets constantly tends to take business from
the local centers, but that business will be more efficient and less
competitive; business will not occupy so large a share of attention, but
will take its rightful place as a means to an end, while the community
will take more interest in those institutions which actively promote all
phases of its higher life, of health, education, art, sociability, and
religion.
These social institutions will increase in relative importance and they
must be located at the community center if they are to have a sufficient
constituency to be efficient in their work and command the loyalty of
rural people. Inasmuch as both farmer and villager are necessary for the
adequate support of church, lodge, school, and other community
organizations, they cannot be expected to work together in these
activities if one is antagonistic to the other, or if the one is helping
to put the other out of business. The farmer has had many grievances
against the townsman, but the fault has not been entirely on one side,
and only by mutual support and the recognition of their dependent
interests can a satisfactory community life be maintained. The root of
the whole trouble lies in the imaginary division of the community into
town and country. With the realization that their common interests are
essential and that their differences are due to lack of proper
adjustment, many of these difficulties will be alleviated. It is my
experience that in the most successful communities, the farmers speak of
"our" town, they are proud of "our" bank, and "our" stores, school, and
churches are the best in the region. Such loyalty is the best of
evidence that the business men of the town have devoted themselves to
supplying the farmers' needs, and that there is mutual understanding
between them. Only by a common loyalty to mutual service can the true
community exist.
Farmers need the village and it should be to them "our town," of whose
successes and improvements they are proud. As the villagers cannot exist
without the farmers they should be interested in supporting every
movement for the farmers' weal. As they have more frequent contacts with
other centers and with cities, they will be the first to bring many new
ideas and suggestions to the community, but they must realize that only
as all elements of the community are agreed will any new movement be
permanently successful. There must be loyalty to farm leaders as well as
to those of the village. Indeed, the most successful rural communities
are those in which all are one big community family whose institutional
interests center in the village.
FOOTNOTES:
[15] See George Nasmyth, "Social Progress and the Darwinian Theory."
[16] See P. Kropotkin, "Mutual Aid."
[17] See L. H. Bailey, "The Place of the Village in the Country-Life
Movement," York State Rural Problems, II, 148. Albany, N. Y., 1915.
CHAPTER VI
COMMUNITY ASPECTS OF THE FARM BUSINESS
In the days of the pioneer the farm business was hardly affected by
community conditions. A general store where necessities could be
purchased, a mill where grain could be ground, and a blacksmith shop
were about the only necessary business agencies. The farm was largely
self-sufficient and there was but little real community life. Nor was
there much change in the next generation or two among the farmers who
built substantial homes, supported their neighborhood churches and
schools, and with the free labor of a good-sized family made a
comfortable living. Their interests were chiefly in their families and
neighbors, and questions of local government were about the only
community bond. When new sections of the country were opened up by
railroads and with the growth of cities farm lands increased rapidly in
value, there was an era of speculative farming, which Dr. Warren H.
Wilson has called the era of the "exploiter."[18] A farm was bought with
an idea of its improvement and resale at a good profit, and many farmers
moved from one section to another in search of new land which was both
fertile and cheap.[19] The era of land speculation has by no means
passed, as has been learned to their sorrow by many who bought farms at
inflated prices during the World War, and whenever there is a sudden
rise in land values, speculation will doubtless recur. On the other
hand, as cheap lands become scarce, as the better lands become more
valuable and the amount of capital required to equip and operate a farm
in the better agricultural sections increases, there will be less
tendency to be on the lookout for a profitable sale and the farm
business will become more permanent because of the large effort and
capital expended in the enterprise and the consequent attachment of the
owner. A man with a considerable investment does not care to move
frequently. Thus higher land values--inevitable with an increasing
population--will favor a more permanent type of farming, conducted on
scientific and business principles, of what Dr. Wilson calls the
"husbandman" type. This type of farmer not only desires but requires
better institutions of all sorts, which can only be maintained at a
community center. Thus permanency of ownership of farm operators
conduces to community development.
Unfortunately, however, the rise of values of the best land seems to
encourage tenancy rather than ownership, for tenancy is greatest and
increases most on the best farm lands. The general economic aspects and
the ultimate solution of the tenancy problem are national rather than
local problems. The effect of tenancy as it now exists, with a frequent
shifting from one community to another, is, however, a very serious
community problem, for all observers agree that the maintenance of a
satisfactory standard of community life is much more difficult where
tenancy predominates.
One important economic aspect of tenancy is that tenants, who are
frequently moving, will less readily and effectively affiliate in
coöperative enterprises, and we shall see that coöperative organizations
have a large influence in promoting the solidarity of the rural
community. This has been well brought out by one of our best students
of the tenancy problem, Dr. C. L. Stewart, who says:
"Farming efficiency in the future, however, will probably
consist to a greater extent in the ability to increase net
profits through coöperative dealing with the market. The
efficiency test must, therefore, rule more strongly against
operators of the tenures, whose characteristics are opposed
to successful coöperative effort on their part.
"That tenants," he continues, "changing from farm to farm at
more or less short intervals, should generally be more
active and successful than owners in building up coöperative
organizations is hardly in the line of reason.... If in the
future, coöperation assumes forms requiring greater
permanency of membership in the societies, greater intimacy
of acquaintance among the members, or greater investment per
member, the tenants will doubtless find themselves
handicapped in their relation thereto."[20]
The effect of a large percentage of tenants is even more serious upon
the social side of community life. Those who have studied the problem
are agreed that both schools and churches tend to be inferior in tenant
communities. There is little "chance of development of deep friendships
and associations which give vitality to church life" where a large
proportion of the tenants are frequently moving, nor can they give as
good financial support to the church as landowners. The frequent
shifting of the tenant population creates a difficult problem for all
the social life of the community, for it is impossible for a community
to assimilate a considerable percentage of its population every year and
to develop those strong ties of loyalty which are essential to real
community life.
Thus a reasonable permanency of residence of its population is
essential to successful community life and this is largely determined by
the economic situation of the farm business. And the importance of the
effect of tenancy, or any other economic aspect of agriculture on the
life of its people must be recognized as a fundamental consideration in
determining rural policies. Well being _on_ the land and not wealth
_from_ the land is the final goal of agriculture.
Community life is also affected by the type of farming which is
prevalent among its people. Modern agriculture is becoming specialized,
and the crops grown are determined both by soil and climate and by the
markets available. Fruit sections are due primarily to the former, while
the regions producing market milk are determined chiefly by the latter
factor. Now various types of farming make distinctly different demands
upon the time of the farmer and so to a considerable extent they
condition his social life. Dairying is probably the most confining sort
of farming, and on the one-man farm there is little opportunity for
getting away. "Haven't missed milking morning or night for six years,"
one dairyman replied to me when asked if he ever had a vacation. The
fruit grower, on the other hand, during the winter can take a few weeks
to go South or visit relatives without injury to his business. In the
South after the crops are "laid by" in midsummer is the season for
camp-meetings, picnics, and "frolicking" in general. Not only does the
fruit grower have more leisure than the dairyman, but population is
denser in a fruit-growing or trucking community and hence the
communities are smaller and more compact. Just what characteristics of
community life may be attributed to these differences in vocation it
would be difficult to say, for so far as I am aware no exact studies
have compared several communities of each type, but that they exercise a
large influence on community customs and the social attitudes of the
people is patent to even a casual observer who passes from a dairy
section to a fruit region, or from the northwestern grain belt to a
region of general farming.[21]
Specialization in agricultural production also affects community life in
that its economic interests are unified both as regards production and
marketing and as the income of most of its people comes from one or two
products, their attention is focused upon them and a greater degree of
solidarity results than where farming is more diversified and farmers
are not so dependent on the sale of one or two crops. Specialization is
chiefly due to advantages which it ensures in marketing, as will be
indicated in the next chapter, and it is because there is less economic
pressure to compel general farmers to market together and that they lack
the solidarity developed by specialization, that coöperative selling
associations have not generally succeeded in a general farming region
when they have attempted to handle various farm products.
Specialization in agriculture encourages further division of labor
because there is a sufficient volume of work to pay for expert services.
Thus dairy communities have developed cow-test associations, which
employ one man to test the percent of butter-fat for each cow, to
interpret their milk production records, and sometimes to advise them
with regard to feeding. In fruit regions a considerable business is done
in contract spraying. Threshing crews and threshing-rings have long been
common. Custom plowing by tractor, and hauling of farm produce by motor
truck are becoming common. It seems probable that such division of labor
will increase as much as is practicable, but it finds very definite
limitations in the agricultural industry, due to the very short season
in which many operations can be performed and which thus gives short
employment for any of the seasonal operations.
Division of labor also involves increasing the manufacture or
"processing" of agricultural products which is an asset to the community
if performed locally as far as possible. Butter is no longer made in the
home but at the creamery, and milk is prepared for the city market at
the shipping station, or is sold to a local condensary, all of which
employ more or less skilled labor. With crops which are perishable or
bulky, "processing" must be performed locally. Thus canneries are
located where the vegetables or fruits are grown. Although the selling
of equipment for coöperative canning plants has been almost as much of a
swindle as promoting coöperative creameries, yet large numbers of
coöperative creameries exist where conditions for them are suitable, and
there seems no inherent reason why coöperative canneries cannot be made
successful when farmers have learned how to organize and to employ
expert help.[22] In his delightful vision of the possibilities of a new
Ireland, entitled "The National Being," George William Russell ("A.
E."), holds out the hope that the increase of such local coöperative
manufacture of agricultural products may be the means of furnishing an
opportunity for the rural laborer to better his status.
"But what I hope for most," he says, "is first that the
natural evolution of the rural community, and the
concentration of individual manufacture, purchase, and sale
into communal enterprises, will lead to a very large
coöperative ownership of expensive machinery, which will
necessitate the communal employment of labor. If this takes
place, as I hope it will, the rural laborer, instead of
being a manual worker using primitive implements, will have
the status of a skilled mechanic employed permanently by a
coöperative community. He should be a member of the society
which employs him, and in the division of the profits
receive in proportion to his wage, as the farmers in
proportion to their trade."[23]
To the extent that "processing" farm products is taken from the farm and
performed at the community center, or that there is a division of labor,
the local community is thereby strengthened, for its life is more highly
organized; it is more inter-dependent.
An interesting phase of the relation of the community to the farm
business is in the protection of crops and animals from insect pests and
diseases. If one man plants his wheat late enough to escape the Hessian
fly his crop is benefited, but if all in a community do so the
subsequent infection is greatly reduced with consequent advantage to
all. The chief obstacle preventing the successful combating of the
cotton boll weevil in the South has been the difficulty of securing
united action in the necessary cultural measures for its control. Most
striking results have been secured in the eradication of the Texas Fever
Tick from large areas of the South, although this has been carried on
using the county as a unit; for many purposes in the South the county is
practically a community. Some of the best community work in this field
has been in the West in poisoning ground squirrels and other injurious
rodents and in rabbit drives. Although the poisoning campaigns are
conducted over whole counties or several counties, they are organized by
communities and their success is possible only because every one in the
community does his part. Whenever the farmers of a community become
convinced that they are unable to fight a pest or disease individually,
but can do so if they act collectively so that a sufficiently large area
is treated as to prevent immediate re-infection, a new community bond
has been established. Whether these activities are carried on by
communities of the exact nature previously defined (page 10) is
immaterial. The significant fact is that their people are learning how
to act together in the common defense, for it was the common defense
which first compelled mankind to live in communities, and it is defense
for one purpose or another which is ever compelling the people of a
locality to act together.
Farm management experts point out the practical value to the farmer of
community experience with regard to methods of farm practice peculiarly
adapted to local climate, soils, and markets. If one is going into
dairying he can learn little from his neighbors if he locates in a fruit
section, but in a dairy section he may constantly learn from the common
experience. Dr. G. F. Warren says:
"There is so much to learn about farming in any community
that one man cannot hope to learn it alone. The experience
of the community is of the utmost value to every farmer.
Different men try out new varieties of crops, new machines,
different breeds of animals, different methods of raising
crops, different methods of building construction, different
ways of saving labor. Each man gets the experiences of all;
if a man is following a type of farming different from his
neighbors, he cannot hope to try all these things. He is not
likely to progress very rapidly."[24]
These advantages occur if there be a true community; i.e., if through
communication one may learn the experience of others, but in some cases
the experience is of little value because it is not available.
Finally farmers are coming to find it profitable to establish the
reputation of a community for advertising purposes. So at the railroad
station we are faced with the sign, "Kalamazoo, the home of celery." We
know of "Kalamazoo, direct to you" stoves, but we had forgotten that it
is one of the oldest and best celery-growing communities in the country.
Thus increased specialization gives very real advertising values to a
community which builds up a reputation for its products. But such a
reputation is simply the recognition by the outside world of the
character of the community. Thus ability to advertise itself is a very
real index of its solidarity, and the desire to be able to gain
advantage from advertising may become a real motive for activities of a
community, as it does with many an individual. The ability to advertise
but shows the economic value of the creation of a real community.
Common interests in the farm business form the primary bond for the
establishment of true rural communities, and the strongest of these
common interests are those involved in the problems of marketing.
FOOTNOTES:
[18] See "The Evolution of the Country Community."
[19] See Hamlin Garland, "A Son of the Middle Border."
[20] Land Tenure in the United States with special reference to
Illinois, University of Illinois, "Studies in the Social Sciences," Vol.
V, No. 3, Sept., 1916, p. 124.
[21] See John M. Gillette, "Constructive Rural Sociology" (1st Ed.),
Chapter III.
[22] For an excellent discussion of "Processing Farm Products," see
Theodore Macklin, "Efficient Marketing for Agriculture," Macmillan, New
York, 1921, Chap. VI.
[23] "The National Being, Some Thoughts on Irish Polity," p. 57, Maunsel
& Co., Dublin and London, 1916.
[24] "Farm Management," p. 98, Macmillan & Co., New York, 1913.
CHAPTER VII
HOW MARKETS AFFECT RURAL COMMUNITIES
We have already observed the influence of transportation and the growth
of markets in revolutionizing the self-sufficient farming of the pioneer
and the industrial self-dependency of the isolated community, but we
must give further consideration to the influence of markets on rural
community life, for the world is now facing problems of the readjustment
of its whole economic system which necessitate a better understanding by
the farmer of his dependence on markets and by urban populations of
their dependence upon the raw materials produced by the farm, if the
mechanism of our complex modern civilization is to be maintained. These
relations involve the largest questions of the interdependence of
industries and of national and international policy in relation thereto,
and we can but call attention to some of the more fundamental principles
involved. An understanding of some of the elementary principles of
agricultural economy in relation to national and international economy
by the masses of our farmers, but particularly by their local leaders,
is essential to any permanent progress not only of agriculture, but of
industry and commerce.
Before the time of railroads when rural communities were isolated from
the few cities situated on the seaboard and along the larger waterways,
there was little incentive for the inland farmer to raise more than he
needed for the use of his own family. As a result there was inefficient
farming and a low standard of living.[25] Railroad transportation made
it possible for the farmer to send his products to the existing markets
and so made it an object for him to produce a surplus, but, more
important, it also made possible the rapid growth of numerous industrial
and commercial centers and so was directly responsible for the creation
of new and growing markets. Steam power, the use of coal, and the
economies of the factory system made it possible to manufacture in large
city factories many articles previously produced in the farmer's home or
in the village centers. Thus a division of labor was effected which was
profitable to all parties; the growth of industrial populations gave the
farmer a market for his produce, and in turn he was able to purchase
from the city many goods previously unknown to the farm--fertilizers,
agricultural machinery, factory-made clothing, furniture, and other
factory products too numerous to mention. Furthermore, transportation
and reasonably stable government made possible the growth of
international commerce so that the markets of many staple farm products
became practically world-wide and a division of labor arose between
certain nations. England and Germany are dependent on other countries
for a considerable part of their food supplies and raw materials, while
certain agricultural countries depend on them for manufactured goods.
The point which must ever be borne in mind in considering the relation
of rural and urban communities is their interdependence; that the
development both of modern industrial centers and of modern agriculture
and the higher standards of living on American farms, have been due to
an exchange of commodities and services which was mutually
advantageous. Without the growth of markets our farms would still be
self-sufficing, but they would lack the many comforts and cultural
advantages which they now enjoy, and this rise in the farmer's standard
of living has stimulated further growth of industry and so made better
markets.
These considerations are particularly pertinent at the present time of
agricultural and business depression. The present position of American
agriculture, and its lack of buying power in our markets, has been
largely due to the fact that Europe has heretofore furnished an open
market for our surplus agricultural products. To-day Europe is unable to
purchase this surplus. The cause seems to be chiefly an economic
paralysis resulting from the political interference by the tariff walls
of newly-created states with the established economic relations of
agricultural areas and manufacturing centers, and an unwillingness of
the farmer to do business with a currency so debased that its value is
highly problematical. So we see the great city of Vienna,[26] once one
of the gayest and most brilliant capitals of Europe, now reduced to
destitution, and the cities not only of Russia but of Germany being
forced to revert to the ancient system of barter in order to secure
adequate food.
The ultimate dependence of all cities upon the farms and mines is to-day
exemplified in Europe with such appalling tragedy, that even the smug
isolation of the American farmer and the American business man is broken
down, not only by human sympathy but by the necessity of a better
adjustment of their own economic system to the world crisis from which
they are unable to escape.
This shift of control from the city to the country has been powerfully
portrayed by Norman Angell:
"Moreover, the problem (of feeding Great Britain) is
affected by what is perhaps the most important economic
change in the world since the industrial revolution, namely
the alteration in the ratio of the exchange value of
manufacture and food--the shift over of advantage in
exchange from the side of the industrialist and manufacturer
to the side of the producer of food."[27]
"Before the War the towns of Europe were the luxurious and
opulent centers; the rural districts were comparatively
poor. To-day it is the cities of the continent that are
half-starved or famine-stricken, while the farms are
well-fed and relatively opulent. In Russia, Poland, Hungary,
Germany, Austria; the cities perish but the peasants for the
most part have a sufficiency. The cities are finding that
with the breakdown of the old stability--of the transport
and credit systems particularly--they cannot obtain food
from the farmers. This process which we now see at work on
the continent is in fact the reverse of our historical
development."[28]
But although the farmer may have sufficient food for the time--though in
Russia millions are starving, due in considerable measure to the
economic and political chaos of the nation--yet if this reverse process
should go on, rural civilization would be reduced to that of former
generations, and its advance would be possible only when the industries
which furnish its material basis were revived and confidence in the
medium of exchange were again established. The city owes its existence
to the farm, but without the city the farm would go back to the hoe and
the sickle and the "age of homespun."
I am not seeking to justify the modern city, for its economic and social
weaknesses are ever increasingly apparent, but it is important that we
fully realize the fact that rural progress has been chiefly due to the
goods and services received in exchange from urban markets. We have
already noted the tendency toward specialization in agriculture and its
effect on the rural community, and that specialization has been chiefly
due to markets. One of the chief factors in encouraging specialization
in the growth of certain products by whole communities and sections is
the fact that a larger volume of a given product ensures better
marketing facilities and a better price to the producer as long as the
supply is not in excess of the demand. Where there is a considerable
volume of a certain product, buyers can meet their demands more easily
and are attracted to it, whereas a small lot of howsoever good a product
must seek a buyer. Freight rates are reduced, damage in transit is
reduced, and better transportation is secured in carload and trainload
than in small shipments. The middleman's charges are less if he is
assured a considerable volume of business. Thus specialization makes
possible a more effective system of marketing than is possible with
indiscriminate production.
Not only must there be sufficient volume of a given product, but it must
be so standardized with regard to varieties, grade and quantities or
packages that the reputation of the goods may be established in the
market. In order to secure uniformity it has been found necessary to
standardize varieties and to grow a few well-known varieties of a given
product which are best adapted to local conditions and to the market,
rather than a number of varieties, as might be feasible if they were all
sold directly on the local market.
Uniformity of grading and packing is also essential to establish a
reputation on the market. A concern like the California Fruit Growers'
Exchange cannot afford to spend half a million dollars a year in
advertising unless it knows that its product will be as advertised, for
advertising an unreliable product may secure temporary sales, but will
hardly be a profitable investment, for the value of advertising an
honest product is cumulative. To secure necessary uniformity of grading
and packing it has been found necessary with almost all agricultural
products to have the grading and packing done at a central establishment
rather than on the farm. For even assuming the honesty and good intent
of the farmer, the standards and skill of different farmers will vary to
such an extent that uniformity is impossible. Uniformity of grade and
package must be secured at some stage of the process of marketing before
the goods are bought by the retailer. Until recently much of this
service has been performed by the commission men at the central markets,
who have taken what was shipped to them or what their agents purchased
and graded it to meet the demands of the trade, and who, of course, had
to charge for their services. It has been found more profitable with
most products to have the grading and packing done as near to the farm
as is possible to secure a sufficient volume of business for the
enterprise. Thus we have local packing houses for fruits, potatoes,
poultry products, grain elevators, etc., usually located at the point of
primary shipment. These local plants, as well as local creameries,
canneries, and other agricultural factories and storage plants, become
community institutions as they meet the needs of the farmers within the
areas tributary to the centers where they are located. It is true, of
course, that many of these plants are located in the open country or at
mere railroad stations, and that many of them draw their patronage from
several communities; yet more commonly than otherwise they are located
at village centers and serve the areas tributary to them. With the
advent of good roads and motor trucks, the areas served by such
establishments will tend to become larger, but there are many local
circumstances which will tend to limit the process of centralization.
Whether these plants are operated by private individuals, by stock
companies, or by coöperative associations of the producers, they are
essential to an effective marketing system and may greatly strengthen
community life. If, however, there be two or three elevators in a little
village, each operated for profit by a private owner, where all the
business could be more economically handled by one concern and where the
competition creates friction and suspicion, then like the rivalry
between an excessive number of churches, they tend to divide the
community.
Students of marketing problems seem agreed that better marketing systems
will benefit the farmer through greater efficiency which will reduce the
costs of the process rather than through greater profits from higher
prices, and that in many lines the largest improvement is possible in
the grading, packing, and shipping from the local station. This being
the case, it seems obvious that the solution of the marketing problem
will increasingly depend upon community action.
Better transportation and storage facilities tend to stabilize prices
over large areas and to give the larger markets increasing advantage in
bargaining for the farmer's products. Not that there is any concerted
action upon the part of the buyers to take an undue advantage of the
farmer, for there is usually keen competition between them, but
inevitably the "centralization" of the buying power of the larger
markets makes it possible for them to very largely determine the price,
just as the large employers of labor can to a considerable extent
determine the wages they will pay if labor is unorganized; for whenever
there is a surplus the individual farmer must sell, while the buyer can,
within limits, purchase where or from whom he chooses. Thus for the same
reason that labor is forced to organize trade unions to maintain its
wages and working conditions, farmers are forced to organize to market
their products together and to bargain collectively for their price.
This is the outstanding agricultural movement of the past decade and at
the present time is so successfully challenging the established system
of marketing as to command national attention. The success of such a
movement depends primarily upon the solidarity and efficiency of the
local units, so that collective bargaining requires the organization of
the agricultural community into selling associations for its various
products. The whole process encourages the economic organization of the
rural community and heightens community consciousness through the effort
of its members to defend their common economic interests.
The method of collective selling may vary, but in practice the
coöperative selling association has proven the most satisfactory and
will be discussed in the following chapter.
When the most successful farmers on the best land in Illinois lose
twenty-five cents on every bushel of corn they raised, as was the case
in 1921, and when it is easier for isolated farmers in Kansas to burn
corn than to buy coal at the prices current, while at the same time
millions of innocent women and children are starving in Europe, it seems
evident that the complex system of marketing upon which modern industry
and civilization has depended, is pretty well out of gear and that
national and international questions must be wisely solved before it can
again function. Yet in last analysis the solution of the complex
problems of marketing rests not alone with international treaties, but
with the farmers' selling associations of the rural communities. If we
are to have a marketing system which is truly functional, which is built
on the principle of the greatest service at the lowest cost, rather than
on the principle now implicit in business of sufficient service to
secure the maximum of profit which the traffic will bear, then it must
be a coöperative system, the primary unit of which is the local
coöperative association, whose success depends upon the loyalty of its
members to the coöperative principle. So coöperation is a community
problem.
Nor can we expect marked progress in other phases of rural life as long
as the economic question is acute. It is not true that economic
prosperity in agriculture will of itself ensure the higher culture of
the countryside; but it is true that so long as the farmer is compelled
to devote all of his strength and time to making a competence for his
family, that his attention must necessarily be fixed on economic ends
and that he will have neither the means nor the time for those
satisfactions of life which are possible to one with some leisure. Says
"A.E.": "I believe the fading hold the heavens have over the world is
due to the neglect of the economic basis of spiritual life. What
profound spiritual life can there be when the social order almost forces
men to battle with each other for the means of existence?"[29] For weal
or woe the material existence of both farmer and townman throughout the
civilized world is inextricably inter-dependent. If a better economic
system is to arise it must come through the general understanding of
these relations by the education of all parties and by a willingness to
find satisfaction in the well-being of all rather than in the largest
individual profit. Unless these attitudes can be established in the
local community, how can we expect to secure harmony of interests among
larger groups? Loyalty to the common good must first be developed in the
local community among neighbors.
In subsequent chapters we shall have occasion to consider various forces
and methods for creating this spirit of community, and we shall see that
whereas the higher culture of rural life awaits a better economic
system, this spirit of loyalty which is essential for coöperative
organizations may be developed through various forms of community
activity.
FOOTNOTES:
[25] See Percy Wells Bidwell, "Rural Economy in New England at the
Beginning of the Nineteenth Century." Trans. Comm. Acad. Arts and Sci.,
Vol. 20, p. 253, 1916; and E. G. Nourse, "Agricultural Economics," p.
65.
[26] See the account of Mr. A. G. Gardiner, _Manchester Guardian_,
Weekly Edition, Feb. 6, 1920, quoted by Norman Angell in "The Fruits of
Victory," p. 27: "Suddenly all this elaborate structure of economic life
was swept away. Vienna, instead of being the vital center of fifty
millions of people, finds itself a derelict city, with a province of six
millions. It is cut off from its coal supplies, from its food supplies,
from its factories, from everything that means existence. It is
enveloped by tariff walls."
[27] "The Fruits of Victory," p. 12, New York, 1921.
[28] _Ibid._, p. 14.
[29] (George William Russell), "The National Being," p. 167.
CHAPTER VIII
HOW COÖPERATION STRENGTHENS THE COMMUNITY
The greatest improvements in marketing are being effected through
coöperation. We have indicated that willingness to work together for the
common good and loyalty to this principle are essential for successful
coöperative enterprises. As these same attitudes are the basis of
community life, it seems obvious that to the extent that membership in
coöperative associations becomes general throughout a community, the
stronger will be the community life. Indeed, the very etymology of the
two words, _coöperate_--to work together, and _community_--having in
common, indicate that community activities are essentially a form of
coöperation--of working together. Inasmuch as coöperative enterprises
are rapidly increasing and that they must, therefore, exercise a
powerful influence upon community life, it is necessary to gain a clear
idea of just what is involved in the principle of coöperation and to
what types of organization the term is applicable.
In a general way there has always been a certain amount of coöperation
between neighboring farmers in the exchange of work in barn-raisings,
threshing, silo-filling, slaughtering, etc. Out of this have grown such
coöperative organizations as threshing rings, and groups for the common
ownership and use of all sorts of more expensive machinery, the
coöperative ownership of sires, cow-test associations, and many other
forms of organization for mutual aid in farm operations. All of these
are coöperative associations in the common usage of the word
coöperation, but in recent years the term has come to have a more
technical meaning to denote a form of organization in contrast to the
corporation or stock company, which has been the most prevalent type of
business organization in recent years.
The coöperative association differs from the corporation or stock
company in three essentials. First, it is democratic in its control; all
true coöperative organizations employ the principle of "one man, one
vote," the influence of each member of the association being equal as
far as the legal control of its administration is concerned. The
individual members and not the amount of stock owned controls the policy
of the association. Coöperation is democracy applied to business.
Second, the coöperative association is organized to secure more
efficient service rather than to exact profits. This is a point upon
which there is much misunderstanding upon the part of those starting
coöperative enterprises and which requires further explanation. Third,
the earnings or savings of the association (commonly thought of as
"profits") are distributed among the members or patrons of the
association _pro rata_ according to the volume of the business which
they have transacted with the association, so that although its control
is democratic its benefits accrue according to the amount of financial
interest involved. There are certain other principles of business
procedure which have been found essential to the successful operation of
different kinds of coöperative associations, but these three--individual
voting, service rather than profits, and pro-rating the earnings--are
fundamental to all truly coöperative associations, and it is to this
combination of business methods to which the term coöperation has now
come to be applied in a technical sense.
Exclusive of associations formed for coöperation in the general sense of
the term, i.e., for various purposes of farm operation as mentioned
above, farmers' coöperative associations may be divided into three
general groups: for buying, for selling, and for finance.
Coöperative buying has been most successfully developed by industrial
workers in towns and cities and is commonly known as "consumers'
coöperation." Starting with a few poverty-stricken workers who pooled
their meager savings so that they could buy at wholesale and share in
the profits of the retailer, the Rochdale system has grown until the
wholesale coöperative societies of England and Scotland are probably the
largest general merchandising corporations in the world, doing a
business of approximately a billion dollars a year.
Coöperative buying of farm supplies, fertilizers, machinery, spraying
materials, feeds, binder twine, etc., is one of the first forms of
coöperative effort ordinarily undertaken by farmers' associations, and
is carried on by numerous methods. In most cases the services rendered
in the business management of such buying is at first largely on a
voluntary basis or is but poorly paid. Only in a few sections of the
country has the coöperative buying of agricultural supplies assumed a
permanent or stable form of organization, and in those cases it is very
frequently a department of a coöperative selling association, such as a
fruit exchange. From an educational standpoint there is much to be said
for commencing coöperation through organization for buying agricultural
supplies, for through it farmers are trained in the principles of
coöperation with the greatest possibility of advantage and the least
risk of loss. There is little probability of loss in judicious
coöperative purchases of carload lots with orders in hand, while in
coöperative selling, unless marketing facilities are so bad as to force
him to take the risk, the chance of loss is a serious consideration to
the farmer. This point has been well stated by Edwin A. Pratt, a leader
of agricultural organization in England, who says:
"Inquiry into the conditions under which organization of
agriculture has been successfully carried out in other
countries showed that a beginning had invariably been made
with the simplest form of combination for the joint purchase
of agricultural necessaries. In this way the advantages of
coöperation could be brought home to cultivators, who were
gradually educated in the theory and practice of combination
without having their suspicions aroused and their mutual
distrust stimulated by proposals that they should at once
alter their old conditions of trading in accordance with
that system of combination for transport or sale which
really constitutes not the beginning of agricultural
organization, but one of the most difficult and most
complicated of all its many phases."[30]
One of the allurements of coöperative buying has been to at once
establish a coöperative store for a general merchandising business. The
history of such stores started by granges in the 70's and 80's is
instructive in this connection. A few of them survive, but most of them
were failures. Only after years of experience and education in
coöperative purchasing and other coöperative enterprises have the aims
and methods of operating coöperative stores been sufficiently
appreciated by most rural communities to ensure their successful
establishment. We have already considered (page 48) some of the
considerations which should govern the attempt to compete with local
merchants. Generally the successful operation of a coöperative store is
more difficult for an average group of farmers to manage than the
simpler forms of coöperative purchasing, or coöperative credit or
selling associations.[31] Moreover, a coöperative store will seriously
affect the solidarity of a small community unless a goodly majority,
both from farm and village, are convinced of the necessity of competing
with local retailers and will give the store their patronage. Except in
the buying of agricultural supplies, which may be considered rather as
the raw materials and equipment of the farm as a manufacturing business
and which are therefore entitled to wholesale prices, consumers'
coöperation as usually conducted through coöperative stores is not a
distinctively agricultural problem, but is the same for the farmer as
for the villager or industrial worker, and its desirability and
limitations are determined by similar considerations.
With the change to a commercial type of farming and with the higher
price of land, the American farmer has had to make larger use of
borrowed capital and his business has been seriously hampered by a lack
of credit facilities to meet his needs. Probably in no field of
coöperative effort have the benefits been more apparent than in that of
the rural credit banks which are found throughout Europe and which have
thoroughly demonstrated their usefulness. Attention has been called to
the fact that our best farm lands are more and more operated by tenants,
and that this is inimical to strong community life. One of the reasons
for this tendency has been the inability to secure long-term loans on
farm real estate by the man who has little capital of his own. As lands
rose in value this became increasingly difficult. To meet this
situation a commission representative of all sections of the United
States visited various countries in Europe in the spring of 1913, and as
a result of their report, in 1916 Congress finally enacted the Federal
Farm Loan Act establishing a system of farm land banks. Under this
system one-half of the value of a farm and buildings up to $10,000 may
be borrowed and paid off under the amortization plan in from five to
forty years at a low rate of interest. The details of the system do not
concern our present discussion, but the essential feature of the system
is the local land bank through which the loans are made and collected.
The local land bank is strictly a coöperative society organized to
secure long-term credit facilities for its members under the terms of
the federal act through the regional land banks of which each local bank
is a member. Like other coöperative associations, the area in which the
local bank does business is not necessarily that of a community, it may
be a whole county where there are but few members, or there may be more
than one bank in a single community, but more commonly it is located at
a village center and tends to become a community institution.
Equally important for financing the current expenses of farming
operations and to make possible the orderly marketing of crops, is the
farmer's need for short-time credit. Our banking system has been
developed to meet the needs of the business world, and the period for
which loans can be made is too short to meet the needs of the farmer,
who often requires credit for six months to a year. In some ten states
legislation has been passed authorizing the formation of local credit
associations, which are really local coöperative banks, but the number
of credit associations established in rural communities has been
insignificant, thirty-three out of a total of thirty-six being in North
Carolina.[32] The tremendous losses suffered by American farmers during
1921 and their inability to secure sufficient credit from their local
banks has shown the necessity for better short-time credit facilities,
and bills are now before Congress which will enable the local land banks
to also handle short-time loans in coöperation with the Federal Reserve
Banks. If this is done, the amount of business done by these local banks
will be greatly increased and the coöperative principle in banking will
be greatly strengthened.
Coöperative selling associations have had a rapid growth in the United
States during the past decade. In 1919 the federal Bureau of Markets
estimated that agricultural products worth one and a half billions out
of a total of nearly nineteen billion dollars sold from farms were
marketed through coöperative associations, and the total has greatly
increased since then. The California Fruit Growers' Exchange, probably
the largest coöperative selling association, does a business of over
$50,000,000 annually and has one of the most efficient distributing
systems in the country.
At the present time some very ambitious programs of national
organizations for coöperative marketing are being started, such as the
United States Grain Growers, Inc., which is modeled after the successful
Canadian Grain Growers, Inc. One of the chief obstacles to all such
plans of effectively organizing the marketing of various agricultural
products is the fact that a strong central organization can be developed
only by the federation of local associations whose members understand
the purposes of the organization and are loyal to them. The history of
all coöperative movements shows that those which have been permanently
successful have arisen through the federation of strong local
associations, and numerous failures of well-intentioned efforts at
large-scale coöperative marketing have been due to the fact that
numerous local associations cannot be organized by the parent
association with any assurance that they will function effectively.
The late G. Harold Powell, for many years the successful manager of the
California Fruit Growers' Exchange, in his discussion of the
fundamentals of coöperation emphasizes that coöperative associations
must be born of a real need:
"Among farmers, who under existing conditions are already
prosperous, the need of business organization is not usually
felt, even though the costs of marketing and extravagant
profits of the middlemen or the railroads might be greatly
reduced. They must feel the pressure of need before they can
launch a successful business association. When the farmers
buy their supplies at reasonable prices, and sell their
products readily at a good profit, they do not feel the
necessity of organization. It has been the experience of the
past that they must feel the need of getting together to
meet a crisis in their affairs, and the realization of the
need must spring from within and not be forced upon them
from without by the enthusiasm of some opportunist who seeks
to unite the farmers on the principle that organization is a
good thing.... In short, if an organization is to be
successful, the investment of the farmer must be threatened
by existing social and economic conditions before he can
overcome his individualism sufficiently and can develop a
fraternal spirit strong enough to pull with his neighbors in
coöperative team work."[33]
The tremendous losses suffered by American agriculture in 1921 furnish
exactly such a crisis as Mr. Powell suggests, and have given the
strongest impetus to the coöperative movement. But even when the
necessity exists and is recognized it takes time to build up a strong
coöperative association.
The successful operation of a local coöperative association is a matter
of slow growth, because it requires the education of the membership in
the principles both of coöperation and of marketing, and what is equally
essential, the development of a willingness to sometimes forego the
advantage of larger profits by individual members in order to ensure the
permanent success of the association. The local association has to learn
how to conduct its business just as does the individual business man,
and it has to compete with individuals and firms who are in business for
profit and who have the advantage of experience in the existing
marketing system and the financial backing of its business connections.
In the attempt to create local selling associations rapidly so as to
secure a sufficient volume of business to ensure the success of large
marketing enterprises, there is always a tendency to encourage the local
members to believe that they will secure a considerably larger share of
the consumer's dollar, and when prices are not materially better than
under the old system they readily become dissatisfied and withdraw. The
best authorities and advocates of coöperative marketing insist that it
will be successful only to the degree that it can become more efficient
than the existing system and so effect savings and make legitimate
earnings, but that there is little prospect for large "profits"; indeed,
that the legitimate objective of coöperation is not profits, but
savings. Professor Macklin summarizes the matter as follows:
"The true coöperative organization seeks to establish and
maintain a distributing system to provide adequately and
dependably at minimum cost the essential marketing services
of which the industry and its individual members have
constant and vital need. Its justification lies in rendering
these services at a lower cost and in bringing to farmers a
higher proportion of the consumer's dollar."[34]
With the factors involved in successful coöperative selling associations
we are not here concerned, except to insist upon the point that as the
weakest link measures the strength of a chain, so the strength of the
local association determines the strength or weakness of the central
selling association. A joint stock company may afford more efficient
management than a coöperative association, and unless the local
membership is convinced of the superior equity and ultimate advantages
of a strong coöperative system, there is little hope for the coöperative
to compete with the stock company. Coöperation means working together,
and its emphasis is more on duties and obligations than on rights and
personal advantage. In coöperative enterprises the individual must be
convinced that his best interest in the long run is bound up with the
best interest of the whole membership, and unless he is sometimes
willing to forego immediate personal advantage and unless he can learn
how to work with others, sometimes without compensation or with less
than he could secure otherwise, there is little chance for developing a
strong organization. For coöperation is but democracy applied to certain
phases of business, and, like democracy in politics or any other sphere
of life, its highest sanction lies in belief and satisfaction in the
collective well-being.
It seems obvious, therefore, that those attitudes which are essential
for coöperation are the same which encourage community life, and that
where the coöperative spirit dominates, community activities will be
strengthened. Whereas, on the contrary, in those localities where
family, political, or personal feuds, jealousies and suspicions are
rife, coöperative enterprises will be difficult and the community will
be weak.
That coöperation does develop those qualities which make for better
communities is attested by all who have observed its effects. As a
result of his long experience Sir Horace Plunkett says:
"It is here, in furnishing opportunity for the exercise of
education secured from the agricultural colleges, that the
educational value of coöperative societies comes in; they
act as agencies through which scientific teaching may become
actual practice, not in the uncertain future, but in the
living present. A coöperative association has a quality
which should commend it to the social reformer--the power of
evoking character; it brings to the front a new type of
local leader, not the best talker, but the man whose
knowledge enables him to make some solid contribution to the
welfare of the community."[35]
So, likewise, a keen observer of Danish coöperation describes its
influence in creating scientific and social attitudes:
"Among the indirect, but equally tangible results of
coöperation, I should be inclined to put the development of
mind and character among those by whom it is practised. The
peasant or little farmer, who is a member of one or more of
these societies, who helps to build up their success and
enjoy their benefits, acquires a new outlook. The jealousies
and suspicions which are in most countries so common among
those who live by the land fall from him. Feeling that he
has a voice in great affairs he acquires an added value and
a healthy importance in his own eyes. He knows also that in
his degree and according to his output he is on an equal
footing with the largest producer and proportionately is
doing as well. There is no longer any fear that because he
is a little man he will be browbeaten or forced to accept a
worse price for what he has to sell than does his rich and
powerful neighbor. The skilled minds which direct his
business work as zealously for him as for that important
neighbor."[36]
It is interesting to note that the three highest authorities on the
coöperative movement in Ireland all lay great stress on its importance
as a means of community organization and value its social effects as
highly as its economic benefits. Thus Sir Horace Plunkett says:
"Gradually the (coöperative) Society becomes the most
important institution in the district, the most important in
a social as well as an economic sense. The members feel a
pride in its material expansion. They accumulate large
profits, which in time become a sort of communal fund. In
some cases this is used for the erection of village halls
where social entertainments, concerts and dances are held,
lectures delivered and libraries stored. Finally, the
association assumes the character of a rural commune, where,
instead of the old basis of the commune, the joint ownership
of land, a new basis for union is found in the voluntary
communism of effort."[37]
In the same vein Smith-Gordon and Staples in their account of the
coöperative movement in Ireland, see it as the most important force for
socialization because it makes the most immediate and practical appeal
to men of all parties and sects and establishes a business system which
develops the community attitude:
"The present individualist system which takes care of the
business interests of the farmer is a dividing and
disintegrating force. It tends to destroy the natural
associative character and to set each man against his
neighbor.... But as a member of a society with interests in
common with others, the individual consciously and
unconsciously develops the social virtues.... The society is
in miniature a community, and the community is but a part of
the larger social group."[38]
George William Russell ("A.E."), the poet-prophet of Irish agriculture,
bases his whole conception of a desirable polity for the Irish State
upon coöperative communities, and considers coöperative societies as a
prerequisite to rural organization. After describing the marked economic
and social changes which have taken place in a typical Irish community
as the result of coöperation, he says:
"I have tried to indicate the difference between a rural
population and a rural community, between a people loosely
knit together by the vague ties of a common latitude and
longitude, and people who are closely knit together in an
association and who form a true social organism, a true
rural community, where the general will can find expression
and society is malleable to the general will. I will assert
that there never can be any progress in rural districts or
any real prosperity without such farmers' organizations or
guilds. Wherever rural prosperity is reported in any country
inquire into it, and it will be found that it depends on
rural organization. Wherever there is rural decay, if it is
inquired into, it will be found that there was a rural
population but no rural community, no organization, no guild
to promote common interests and unite the countrymen in
defence of them."[39]
The same observations might be made upon the effect of coöperative
enterprises in solidifying rural communities in the United States. It
seems doubtful whether coöperative associations in the United States
will develop a general social program as they have done in Ireland,
Belgium, and Russia. On account of a different social inheritance and
account of our facility in forming and belonging to numerous
organizations, it seems probable that we will limit our coöperative
societies to strictly economic functions, and will use the increased
income secured through them in other organizations for social purposes.
Commercial farming is breaking down the old individualism of the farmer,
for the exigencies of the economic situation are forcing him to market
collectively through coöperative selling associations, and as he learns
that his own best interests are bound up with those of the whole
community, he becomes increasingly concerned for the common welfare; he
commences to think in terms of "us" and "ours," instead of only "me" and
"mine." The community becomes a reality to him.
FOOTNOTES:
[30] "Agricultural Organization," p. 99. London, P. S. King & Son, 1912.
[31] See Clarence Poe, "How Farmers Coöperate," Chap. III, p. 37.
"Coöperative buying is good; coöperative merchandising may or may not
be." New York, Orange Judd Co., 1915.
[32] V. N. Valgren and E. E. Engelbert, "The Credit Association as an
Agency for Rural Short-time Credit." Department Circular 197, U. S.
Dept. Agr., 1921.
[33] "Coöperation in Agriculture," pp. 22, 23. New York, The Macmillan
Co., 1913.
[34] Theodore Macklin, "Efficient Marketing for Agriculture," p. 260.
New York, Macmillan Co., 1921.
[35] "The Country Life Problem in the United States," p. 123.
[36] Harvey, "Denmark and the Danes," p. 146, quoted by F. C. Howe,
"Denmark a Coöperative Commonwealth," p. 61.
[37] _Ibid._, p. 128.
[38] "Rural Reconstruction in Ireland; a Record of Coöperative
Organizations." New Haven, Yale Univ. Press, 1919.
[39] "The National Being," p. 39.
CHAPTER IX
THE COMMUNITY'S EDUCATION
THE SCHOOL
At its beginning the United States Government gave support to education
by the allotment of public lands to the states as an endowment for
public schools, and although the federal government has done but little
since then for primary education, the support of education has become
one of the chief concerns of state and local governments. In colonial
times public schools were largely confined to New England. With the
settlement of the Middle West district schools were established with the
aid of the government land grants. But in the South conditions were not
favorable for public schools until long after the Civil War, and only in
the last generation or two has public education become firmly
established.
The district school, the famous "little red school-house" of the
nineteenth century, was frequently the neighborhood center and the
school district commonly formed a neighborhood area, particularly in
hilly sections where its lines were adjusted by topography. A recent
study of neighborhood areas in Otsego County, New York, shows that about
half of them are identical with the school districts, chiefly on account
of topography, while in Dane County, Wisconsin, more neighborhood areas
are determined primarily by the school district than by any one
factor.[40] Formerly the district school-house was quite frequently
used for Sunday school or preaching services; spelling-bees and other
entertainments were held from time to time; and political meetings and
elections were commonly held there.
Although the district school is still a neighborhood social center in
many sections, its decadence commenced at the close of the nineteenth
century, the change depending upon the general progress or isolation of
the community, particularly as affected by transportation. Several
factors have combined to make the district school unsatisfactory to the
rural community of to-day. In the older parts of the country the
population has so decreased that in many districts the maintenance of a
school has become exceedingly expensive, it is difficult to secure
competent teachers, and there are too few pupils to make the school
attractive. The better educational advantages of town and city schools
have caused much dissatisfaction upon the part of the better class of
farmers who wish their children to have the best possible start in life,
and many of those who can afford to do so have "moved to town" to
educate their children, thus making a bad matter worse for the district
school. As long as roads were poor the district school was the only one
possible, but with better roads, automobiles and trolleys, the
consolidation of schools has proceeded rapidly in the past decade,
particularly in the prairie states.
A modern school cannot be maintained at every other crossroads. Improved
roads naturally radiate from the village center and hence it is the
logical point for a consolidated school or high school. There are
localities in isolated regions where it might be desirable to establish
consolidated schools in the open country, but in most cases where there
is a natural village center, the school should be located there and the
school laws should make possible the organization of the consolidated
school district regardless of township or county lines. Indeed
legislation has already been enacted to this end in several states and
forms one of the most important movements for strengthening the rural
community. Here and there are to be found consolidated schools which
have been placed in the open country at the center of a township because
it was the point most easily agreed upon by all the patrons,
particularly where the township is an administrative unit of the school
system. In some cases somewhat successful efforts are being made to have
such consolidated schools serve as social centers, but it is believed
that in the long run community life will flow to its natural centers and
that the seeming success of such social centers in the open country,
unless the neighborhood be an isolated one, will tend to weaken the
communities concerned. Usually a consolidated district of this sort will
contain parts of two or three community areas and the location of the
school at a point between them weakens the support of the community
centers to that extent. Here we encounter one of the many ways in which
our artificial unit of rural government--the township--interferes with
community progress.[41]
Formerly only the children of the upper classes who were preparing for
college received a secondary education, but during the past generation
there has been a rapid growth of public high schools which serve as the
"people's colleges." At first these were found only in the cities and
larger towns, but rural communities have demanded equal advantages and
state and national legislation has aided them in the cost of
maintenance. Federal aid for secondary education in vocational subjects,
now available through the Smith-Hughes Act of 1917, has encouraged the
establishment of rural high schools and has greatly increased the number
giving instruction in agriculture and home economics. Hundreds of rural
high schools are now giving agricultural courses better than the
agricultural colleges gave twenty-five years ago.
Rural high schools with full four-year courses have been found mostly in
the larger villages and towns, but the movement is now well under way to
divide the period of secondary education into a junior and senior high
school (the so-called "six-six" plan), and junior high schools,
including the seventh to ninth grades, are being established in many
smaller communities by simply adding a grade to the consolidated
schools. The educational forces of the country, as expressed by
statements of the U. S. Bureau of Education and the National Education
Association, are now committed to the policy of consolidated rural
schools wherever they are practicable and to the establishment of a
sufficient number of high schools so that every rural child may attend
high school and still be able to live at home. Obviously it is important
from the standpoint of community development that the high schools
should be placed at community centers and that where some of the
communities are too small to support senior high schools that they
should be located at a village which serves as a center of what, for
want of a better term, we may call "the larger community" (see pages
232-3).
One of the reasons for consolidated schools is that the objectives of
rural education are changing and that country people are demanding that
their children be educated for country as well as for town life.
Formerly the content and method of rural education was an imitation of
that of the city and inevitably made industrial, commercial, and
professional occupations the ideal of the pupil. The schools of New
England have done an immense service to the rest of the country but they
were an important factor in depopulating many a New England town. The
introduction of nature study, agriculture, and home economics is
becoming general in rural schools. Educators do not desire to train
rural children solely for farm life, and thus to segregate a farm class,
even were that possible, but they are attempting to give equal emphasis
to the values of country life so that it may prove equally attractive to
the best as well as to the less efficient rural youth.
Furthermore the whole attitude of rural as well as urban education is
changing from that of teaching individuals so as to equip them with
intellectual tools for their personal advancement, to one of training
future citizens who will attain their own best interests by useful
service to the community. The curriculum and objectives of the school
are rapidly becoming socialized, and as this process goes on the school
will more and more become the most important single institution for
creating community loyalty.
The community school, particularly the high school, no longer confines
itself to the instruction of its regular pupils; it is the educational
center and headquarters of the community. With the assistance of the
Extension Service of the agricultural colleges, rural high schools are
holding one-week extension schools for farm men and women, and under the
Smith-Hughes Act they are offering continuation short courses for the
younger farmers. The progressive rural high school is taking a live
interest in the one-room district schools which may be too far from the
center for consolidation, and is seeking to interest their pupils in
attending high schools through athletic meets, play festivals, and
similar assemblages of all the schools of the community, which thus
create a natural bond of interest and common enthusiasm. The principal
of the high school at Oxford, N. Y., recently organized a
public-speaking contest of representatives of all the country schools in
his supervisory district, in connection with the annual play festival
which he had established several years before. This proved to be a huge
success and gave the boys and girls from the district schools new
confidence in their ability of self-expression. One of the greatest
needs which farmers' organizations are to-day feeling is their lack of
leaders who can speak for them effectively at public gatherings and
before legislative hearings in competition with men who make their
living by talking. Such contests, particularly when the topics discussed
deal with affairs of country life with which the children are acquainted
and in which they are vitally interested, as was the case with the one
at Oxford and to which much of its success was attributed, are therefore
of great value and may well be substituted for the academic debates so
often heard on subjects quite foreign to the child's life and beyond his
real comprehension.
In many places new school buildings are being constructed with an
auditorium, which may be used as a gymnasium, library room, dining room,
etc., so that they may serve as social centers for the community. Where
the community is not large enough to afford a separate community house
this is frequently the best and most economical means of meeting this
need. This will be discussed further in considering community buildings.
Numerous rural high schools are conducting lyceum and entertainment
courses, and some are operating motion-picture shows on Saturday nights.
Where no other organization is better adapted for taking the
responsibility of furnishing high-class entertainment to the community,
this is a useful service. School orchestras and bands, choruses, and
dramatic clubs are also valuable additions to the community life.
The successful community school will not center all of its activities in
its own building, but it will take some of its talent to the country
schools for local athletic and play contests, dramatic or musical
entertainments, etc., and thus magnify the importance of the local
school in the neighborhood, for only by acquiring a desire for these
advantages will the people in the more isolated parts of the community
come to interest themselves in the activities of the whole community at
its village center.
It is becoming more and more apparent that if the school is really to
function as it should, that it must have the active interest and support
of its patrons. It is not enough that they should assemble at the annual
school meeting, elect school officials, vote taxes for its maintenance,
and then leave its management to the school board and teachers. It is
highly desirable that every encouragement should be given toward making
teaching a life profession, but as teaching becomes professionalized it
tends, like every other calling, to become more or less of a
bureaucracy. It is essential that educational methods should be
determined by and be in charge of educators who are trained for such
service, but if they get the idea, as sometimes seems unfortunately the
case, that it is the business of the people to supply funds for the
support of the schools and then to leave their entire operation to the
teachers and superintendents, they assume an attitude which is fatal to
the life of the school, for no educational system, however ideal in
theory, can be effective without the sympathetic understanding and
cordial support of the majority of its patrons. It is for this reason
that large emphasis is being placed by progressive educators on the
organization of parent-teachers associations or school improvement
leagues for the discussion of school problems by parents and teachers.
In many cases the parent-teachers association forms one of the chief
bonds of the country community and the State of Virginia has built up a
remarkable system of community organization through its Coöperative
Educational League with hundreds of local leagues which interest
themselves in all phases of community life.
The school is also coming to realize that although it is the institution
specially created for the systematic education of the child, that much
of his education is received outside the school and that certain phases
of his education may be accomplished more effectively through the
coöperation of the school with other institutions and agencies. Thus
instead of seeking to absorb all of the time of the child and to give it
all kinds of training within the school or as part of its curriculum,
the school is commencing to develop methods for strengthening and
coördinating the educational work of the home, the church, and of
various organizations.
The teaching of agriculture has been made vital and effective by the
home project in which the boy comes to appreciate the value of the
principles studied at school in connection with an agricultural
enterprise in raising crops or livestock of his own on the home farm.
This tends to enlist the interest of the parents, who contribute largely
to the educational process. The same principle is being applied to a
less extent in work in home economics, and the giving of school credit
for various kinds of home work has established a community of interest
between home and school. In the teaching of hygiene, and particularly
with regard to sex hygiene, the school finds it difficult to establish
those habits and attitudes which are as important as mere knowledge
without the help and coöperation of the home. So, too, the medical
inspection of school children, with the work of school nurses and
clinics held at the school for children of pre-school age, stimulate the
home to better health.
Because of the separation of church and state in this country we have
very largely neglected all effort toward religious education in our
public schools, and even ethical training has been more or less of a
secondary objective until very recently. A growing appreciation of the
inadequacy of the ordinary Sunday school has led to a movement for
giving systematic instruction and training in religious education under
church auspices at a time set apart by the school and for which school
credit is given when it meets reasonable educational standards. The
week-day school of religion is still in an experimental stage. It has
been established longest in cities, but is now being attempted in rural
communities, and if sectarian dogmatism and jealousies can be submerged,
there seems every reason to hope that this may be a most important
feature of our educational system.
So, too, the boys' and girls' clubs in agriculture and home economics,
the boy and girl scouts, the campfires, the little mothers' leagues, the
health crusades, the Y.M.C.A and Y.W.C.A., and other organizations for
children and youth, have created new interest in certain aspects of
school work and are a source of educational dynamic which progressive
educators are utilizing as valuable allies.
Thus in very many ways the school is adapting its methods to meet its
responsibility for developing good citizens who are loyal to the welfare
of the community, and the school principal is rightly expected to be a
leader in community affairs in so far as they concern the participation
and interests of the school.
It is a far cry from the isolated one-room, box-type district school,
with a young girl with no professional training teaching a dozen
youngsters of all ages as best she can with little or no equipment, to
the modern consolidated school or rural high school with all the
intimate connections with the life of the whole community above
described, but this difference measures one phase of the progress which
has been made in recent years toward the integration of the rural
community and depicts one of the most important forces involved in this
process, whose influence is only commencing to be felt. How different
will the life of rural communities be a generation or two hence when in
most of them practically all of the parents and children will have had a
high-school education, with all the broader contacts and outlook on life
which that involves! We need only to study the influence of the Danish
Folk High Schools[42] to visualize the outcome.
THE PUBLIC LIBRARY
The public library has possibilities as an educational institution
exceeded only by those of the school. In many cases it is the
intellectual center of the community, while in others the caricature of
the library of Gopher Prairie in Sinclair Lewis' "Main Street," where
one of the chief objects was to keep the books from being soiled or worn
out, is not much overdrawn. Increasingly, however, the librarian is
studying methods of salesmanship for increasing the local consumption of
the products of the world's best minds in books and magazines, and is of
inestimable service to all organizations whose members have occasion to
study what human thought has contributed to the solution of their
problems. The public library gives the means of further education to
many a person deprived of academic privileges, who may realize the truth
of Carlyle's saying: "The true University of these days is a Collection
of Books."
In many states public libraries are aided by state and local
appropriations, particularly in New England and the states settled by
New England stock, for it is to New England[43] that we are indebted for
the public library as well as the public school. It is not, however,
economically possible for every small community to support a permanent
local library, and many of those established have a precarious existence
and are maintained only through the devotion of public-spirited
individuals. To meet the need of isolated neighborhoods a few county
libraries, notably in Washington County, Maryland, and a few counties in
Delaware and Minnesota, have made use of book-wagons which are
accompanied by a librarian who makes a "rural free delivery" of books to
each home and assists the families in their selection. It seems,
however, that the chief value of the book-wagon is as a means of
creating a desire for books, and that when this is created it will be
much more economical to furnish them through branch stations at
neighborhood or community centers. Systems of traveling libraries are
also supported by many states and make it possible for the most isolated
neighborhoods to secure the best of books. Unfortunately, however, the
places which need them most do not always know of them nor will they
take the initiative to secure them. They are of particular value for
securing collections of books on special topics for the use of granges,
churches, and study clubs of all sorts. But as the demand for traveling
libraries grows, the administration of the system from the state library
becomes a large undertaking and the need of better local libraries is
realized.
A system of "county libraries" has been developed in California, has
spread to several other states, and is now being advocated by the
American Library Association and by library leaders generally. Under the
county system a central library is established at the county seat, with
branches or loan stations at the different community centers, and with
traveling collections for the more isolated neighborhoods. The larger
centers which have local libraries continue to maintain them and simply
serve as part of the system. Thus the library resources of the county
are pooled and the farm people are given the same sort of service that a
city library gives its people through its branches. The feature of
interest from a community standpoint is that, although this is a county
system, it recognizes the usefulness of local branches and makes
possible a library service adapted to its needs for every small
community, whereas separate libraries have heretofore been possible only
in the larger centers.
THE COUNTRY WEEKLY
One of the most important educational agencies of the rural community is
the oft-derided weekly newspaper. After a period of difficult
competition with city dailies the surviving weeklies are becoming
recognized as community institutions. Those which are succeeding are
doing so by becoming the voice of the community and the means of its
self-acquaintance. No agency may be more powerful in unifying or
disrupting the life of the local community. This new concept of the
country weekly has been well expressed by W. P. Kirkwood, of the
University of Minnesota:
"Community building was a concept unknown to the editor of
thirty or forty years ago. To-day it is an accepted concept
of dynamic force, full of significance in most of the
country towns of America.
"Community service, as such a concept, is fast finding its
way into the country press--in the Middle West, at least. As
this ideal gains acceptance, giving definite direction to
newspaper effort for the upbuilding of communities, the
press gains an enlarged constituency with a truer conception
of the power and usefulness of the newspaper....
"Community service, community building, then, as a master
motive, establishes the country weekly newspaper publisher
securely in his position of leadership. It assures added
community prosperity and the local development of the finer
satisfactions of life in which he must share, and no other
agency can take this from him, neither the city daily,
coming in from a distance and concerned with the larger
affairs of the larger community, nor the school, nor the
church, nor any other."[44]
In a bulletin on "The Country Weekly in New York State,"[45] Professor
M. V. Atwood, of the New York State College of Agriculture and for
several years a successful publisher, discusses the purposes and future
of the country weekly. He holds that the country weekly is not, as often
stated, and should not be a molder of public opinion, but should rather
express and interpret the sentiment of its constituency.
"The country newspaper," he says, "is a service agency; it
is a community institution like the church, the school, the
library, and the farm and home bureau. It helps all these
institutions to do their work....
"If the country newspaper does not do much thought-molding
it does offer a medium for the dissemination of thought, for
the propagation of ideas of the people of the community. The
value of the newspaper to the community becomes especially
apparent when some local project is to be considered, like
the erection of a school, the building of good roads, or the
installation of a water system. For weeks the paper will
offer in the form of letters, the views of different people
of the community. The subject is thoroughly aired. Even if
the editor takes no sides in the matter, his paper has been
of inestimable service to the community."
Indeed, as we shall see later, such a free discussion is a most
essential step in all community activities, and the service of the
newspaper is probably greater if it acts as a free and open forum for
discussion rather than a partisan of either side. Of the news of the
future, Professor Atwood says:
"Most of these papers will also be printing much more farm
news than they do to-day because as the publishers have
surveyed their fields they will have found the primary
interest of their readers is agricultural. There will be
some exceptions for some communities will have ceased to be
dominated by agriculture because of the coming of factories.
The real country weeklies will not become agricultural text
hooks; but the news of the farms, the improvements to farm
buildings, and the experiences of successful local farmers
will find much space in their columns.
"The community editor of the future is not going to worry
much about 'hot' news. He will realize that most of the
striking facts of any story have already been printed in the
neighboring city papers, but he will realize also that the
genuine community interest in the event has not been
glimpsed by the city editor, who is out of touch with the
local situation; around these community aspects the local
editor will weave his story."
Possibly the best appreciation of the country weekly is a prose poem
written by Professor Bristow Adams, editor of the New York State College
of Agriculture, and presented at the first country newspaper conference
held at that institution during Farmers Week 1920, entitled "I am the
Country Weekly,"[46] and which vividly depicts its service as an agency
for developing community consciousness:
"I am the Country Weekly.
"I am the friend of the family, the bringer of tidings from
other friends; I speak to the home in the evening light of
summers vine-clad porch or the glow of winters lamp.
"I help to make this evening hour; I record the great and
the small, the varied acts of the days and weeks that go to
make up life.
"I am for and of the home; I follow those who leave humble
beginnings; whether they go to greatness or to the gutter, I
take to them the thrill of old days, with wholesome
messages.
"I speak the language of the common man; my words are fitted
to his understanding. My congregation is larger than that of
any church in my town; my readers are more than those in the
school. Young and old alike find in me stimulation,
instruction, entertainment, inspiration, solace, comfort. I
am the chronicler of birth, and love and death--the three
great facts of man's existence.
"I bring together buyer and seller, to the benefit of both;
I am part of the market-place of the world. Into the home I
carry word of the goods which feed and clothe, and shelter,
and which minister to comfort, ease, health, and happiness.
"I am the word of the week, the history of the year, the
record of my community in the archives of state and nation.
"I am the exponent of the lives of my readers.
"I am the Country Weekly."
FOOTNOTES:
[40] Out of 185 neighborhood areas, 39 were chiefly due to the school
district, the next most important influence being the church parish
which determined the neighborhood in 33 cases. J. H. Kolb, "Rural
Primary Groups." Research Bull. 51, Agr. Exp. Sta. of the Univ. of
Wisconsin, p. 48.
[41] The relation of the consolidated school to township and community
lines is well shown in a study of the schools of Randolph County,
Indiana, and Marshall County, Iowa, by Dr. A. W. Hayes, in his "Rural
Community Organization" (Chap. VI, Univ. of Chicago Press, 1921). In
Randolph County more of the schools are located in the open country
while the more recent consolidations in Marshall County are located
mostly at the village centers. Dr. Hayes recognizes the differences but
he gives no facts which make possible a judgment as to the relative
efficiency of the two methods from a community standpoint.
[42] F. C. Howe, "Denmark a Coöperative Commonwealth." H. W. Foght,
"Rural Denmark and its Schools."
[43] "In Pease and Niles' 'Gazateer of Connecticut and Rhode Island'
(1819) the social library is almost as regularly mentioned in the
descriptions of the various towns as are the saw-mills, or the ministers
and doctors."--Bidwell, "Rural Economy in New England," p. 347.
[44] In the _Inland Printer_, February, 1920, quoted by Atwood, l. c.,
p. 305.
[45] "The Cornell Reading Course for the Farm," Lesson 155, March, 1920.
See also his "The Country Newspaper and the Community," Chicago, A. C.
McClurg & Co., 1922.
[46] Quoted by Atwood, _l. c._, p. 314.
CHAPTER X
THE COMMUNITY'S EDUCATION (CONTINUED)
THE EXTENSION MOVEMENT
The era of modern agriculture in the United States began with the
passage of the Morrill Act by the Federal Congress in 1861. This made a
grant of public land to each state to establish a college for
instruction in agriculture and the mechanic arts, and it has been the
influence of the "land-grant colleges," more than any other agency,
which has been responsible for our agricultural advancement. In 1888 the
Hatch Act made an annual federal appropriation to each of these colleges
for the establishment of an agricultural experiment station, whose
investigations, with those of the United States Department of
Agriculture, have been largely responsible for the scientific basis of
modern agriculture.
From the beginning the agricultural colleges realized their obligation
to bring the results of scientific investigations to the attention of
farmers as well as to their own students, and their faculties spoke
before meetings of state and county agricultural societies, granges, and
farmers' institutes. In 1875 Michigan was the first state to make an
appropriation to its State Board of Agriculture for conducting farmers'
institutes, and in the next twenty-five years most of the states
established systems of farmers' institutes either under their state
boards or departments of agriculture or under the agricultural colleges,
through which itinerant speakers addressed one or more meetings of
farmers in each county every year. These institutes grew in popularity
and led to separate meetings for farm women, and sometimes for children,
and in some cases permanent county organizations were created for
holding institutes with local speakers as well as for managing those
furnished by the state. Farmers' institutes have performed an important
service in the education of the rural community. Not only have they
given instruction in methods of agriculture and in the problems of
country life, but they have been an important means of bringing rural
people together in a common cause; they are a community activity and
strengthen the community bond. In many cases in isolated localities the
annual farmers' institute has been one of the few occasions at which the
people of the community get together, and has been looked forward to as
a social event. Furthermore, it was through experience with farmers'
institutes that the need of better means for bringing instruction to
rural communities was appreciated and other methods were developed.
It was but a few years after the establishment of the agricultural
experiment stations under the Hatch Act of 1888, that the colleges
commenced to realize that the results of their investigations would not
be extensively utilized by farmers unless other means were employed than
mere publication of reports and bulletins and addresses at farmers'
institutes and agricultural meetings. These were good, but they were
felt to be inadequate and it was evident that to secure the general
adoption of new methods some means of more systematic instruction and of
local demonstrations were necessary. The agricultural colleges came to
feel that they should have definite departments with men who could
devote their time to giving instruction to the people on the land. The
first appropriation for agricultural extension work was made to Cornell
University by the State of New York in 1894, but it was a decade later
before the leading agricultural colleges had established departments of
extension work. In general the early period of the extension movement
was chiefly concerned with methods of agricultural production and had no
definite program for the local organization of its work. This finally
came about through the county agent movement.
The county agent movement[47] had its origin in an effort to combat the
ravages of the Mexican Cotton Boll Weevil as it swept through Texas and
advanced eastward from 1900 to 1910. It was in 1903 that Dr. S. A. Knapp
was commissioned by the Federal Secretary of Agriculture, James Wilson,
to devise methods whereby the Texas farmers might be shown how they
could grow cotton in spite of the weevil. He soon found that progressive
farmers who were using the cultural methods which the entomologists had
found to be successful for raising an early crop, were able to raise
fairly good crops before injury became serious. He therefore employed
practical farmers to go among their neighbors and get them to agree to
give a fair trial to the methods advocated by the government, i.e., to
demonstrate their practicability. Those making the trials were called
"demonstrators" and their neighbors who came to follow their example in
testing the new methods were called "coöperators" and were called
together at the "demonstrator's" farm to see the results of his work and
to receive instruction from the "demonstration agent" who supervised the
work for the government. As this work was in charge of practical farmers
more or less known locally, it appealed to the farmers as a
common-sense method, the results spoke for themselves, and the demand
for the work spread rapidly. Dr. Knapp found that the county was the
best unit for the work of the supervising demonstration agent, and he
soon came to be known as the county demonstration agent, which was later
contracted to county agent or county agricultural agent. The whole
movement came to be called "the farmers' coöperative demonstration
work." Three new features in agricultural instruction of farmers were
involved in this system; it was more or less coöperative on the part of
a local group of farmers; it used the demonstration method of teaching,
i.e., the farmer demonstrated to himself by his own trial; and a local
county agent was employed for the supervision of the work. It soon
became apparent that merely trying to circumvent the depredations of the
boll weevil would not solve the problem and that instead of raising only
cotton as a cash crop the farmer must diversify his crops so as to raise
more of the foodstuffs consumed on the farm and to have other products
for sale. This involved the application of the demonstration method to
the growing of corn, legumes, hogs, etc., in short, it involved the
whole field of farm management and agricultural practice. The work of
the county agricultural agents was liberally supported by local business
men, commercial clubs and railroads, and the General Education Board, as
well as by the U. S. Department of Agriculture. In 1909 the Mississippi
legislature passed the first act permitting counties to appropriate
funds for this work, and this was followed by most of the southern
states within a few years.
The Report of President Roosevelt's Country Life Commission in 1909
called attention to the need of a national system of agricultural
extension work in charge of the agricultural colleges, and congressmen
and agricultural leaders in the North who had observed the success of
the county agent movement in the South commenced to feel that county
agricultural agents might be equally valuable in the North as a means of
local agricultural education. As a result, the first county agricultural
agents in the North were appointed by the Office of Farm Management of
the U. S. Department of Agriculture in 1910 and 1911. In 1912, 113 were
employed in coöperation with the state agricultural colleges and local
county organizations in the North and West. The success of the work of
these agents and of the extension work of the agricultural colleges led
to a general demand from the agricultural interests of the country for a
federal appropriation to the agricultural colleges for establishing a
system of extension work the chief feature of which would be the
employment of county agricultural agents who would supervise field
demonstrations by the farmers on their own farms. This resulted in the
federal Smith-Lever Act of 1914, which made an annual appropriation to
each land-grant college "to aid in diffusing among the people of the
United States useful and practical information on agriculture and home
economics and to encourage the application of the same ... through field
demonstrations, publications, and otherwise, ... to persons not
attending or resident at said college." This act is notable in that it
established the most comprehensive national system of non-resident
instruction in agriculture and home economics of any country, and
recognized the necessity of de-centralizing this instruction by having
it carried on by agents in the counties who could have immediate and
continuous contact with individual farmers and groups of farmers.
As the work of the county agents in the South grew more permanent they
found that it was more efficient if they worked with and through local
groups of farmers, and community agricultural clubs were quite widely
organized, but no strong county federation was developed, except in West
Virginia, where the local clubs formed a county organization which was
called a Farm Bureau. The term Farm Bureau originated in Broome County,
New York, in 1911, when the first county agent in that state was
employed by the Binghamton Chamber of Commerce, the Lackawanna Railroad,
and the U. S. Department of Agriculture. As the number of county agents
rapidly increased in the northern states it soon became apparent that if
their work was to be of the greatest service to the farmers for whose
benefit they worked, that it should be supported and managed by the
farmers themselves rather than by business interests. The Farm Bureau
Association, composed of farmers throughout a county, soon came to be a
prerequisite to the placing of an agricultural agent in a county, and
with the passage of the Smith-Lever Act and of state legislation
accepting its provisions and appropriating state funds contingent upon
similar appropriations by the counties, this became the usual procedure.
The county farm bureau association coöperates with the state college of
agriculture and the U. S. Department of Agriculture in the employment of
the county agent, and the annual membership fees together with county
appropriations pay the expenses of the work other than salary. The
affairs of the farm bureau association are in the hands of the usual
officers and executive committee, who report to an annual meeting of the
membership. Further than this the method of organization varies in
different states. In most of the northern and western states there is a
local committee in each community which arranges for the demonstrations
and meetings to be held by the county agent, and there is no further
organization of the local membership, but in a few states definite local
organizations or community clubs with officers and regular meetings
have developed. In either case, however, the unit of local organization
and interest in the work of the farm bureau is usually the community,
although its executive administration is on a county basis.
As the extension work came under the local control of these
organizations of farmers, the objectives of the work were more largely
determined by the farmers' point of view. Whereas the original purpose
had been to "extend" to the farmer the better methods of agriculture
discovered by the experiment stations and the federal department of
agriculture, the program of work came to be largely determined by the
particular needs and problems of the local communities in a given
county. The farmers conferred with the agent--their agent--and pointed
out their greatest difficulties. The program of work was then a matter
of determining what demonstrations and instruction could be arranged to
meet these problems, under the direction of the county agent and with
any assistance possible from the state agricultural college. With the
rapid growth of Farm Bureaus,--for on June 30, 1918, there were 791 farm
bureaus with approximately 290,000 members,--the movement became truly a
farmers' movement rather than a mere "extension" of the work of the
agricultural colleges, though the close affiliation with them
constituted its strength and furnished its leadership.
It so happened that almost as soon as the Smith-Lever Act became
effective the world was plunged into war and marketing problems became
more and more important. Whereas in the first decade of the county agent
movement interest had been chiefly in better methods of production, it
now rapidly shifted to include better methods of marketing and the
development of coöperative selling associations, whose organization was
assisted by the farm bureaus wherever they were needed and practicable.
The entry of the United States into the World War greatly accelerated
the farm bureau movement. "Food will win the war" was the slogan which
challenged American agriculture. The number of county agents in the
North and West increased from 542 to 1,133 within the year ending June
30, 1918. It was the county agent system which formed the mechanism
through which the federal government secured the whole-souled
coöperation of the farmers of the United States under peculiarly trying
conditions. The winter of 1917-18 was severe and seed corn was unusually
poor. As a result, the available supply of sound seed corn in the spring
of 1918 was the lowest on record in the face of the greatest need for a
bumper crop. Had it not been for the remarkable organization developed
through the county agents and the farm bureau system of the entire
country, the corn crop of the great Corn Belt would have been far below
normal. As it was, nearly a normal acreage was planted and an abundant
harvest secured. The rôle which the agriculture of the United States
played in the World War has never been adequately written or
appreciated, but it was full of as much romance and heroism as were the
industries which commanded the headlines of the press. Dr. Bradford
Knapp, for many years in charge of the county agent work in the Southern
States after the death of his father, its founder, has called attention
to the fact that during the war "of the four great activities or
industries in America, agriculture, manufacturing, mining, and
transportation,--one alone--agriculture, stood the test, and that mainly
because there was already in existence an organization extending from
the United States Department of Agriculture through every state
agricultural college ... to the counties and the farmers, by which
information was rapidly disseminated and farmers were made aware of
conditions of what must be done to win the war."
It was inevitable that such an organization growing rapidly during a war
should develop an unusual solidarity, and this was but strengthened by
the difficulties which agriculture encountered with the cessation of
hostilities. During the war several states had formed state federations
of the county farm bureau associations and in November, 1919, a
convention was called at Chicago for the formation of a national
organization, which resulted in the formal organization of the American
Farm Bureau Federation[48] in March, 1920, with 28 states represented,
and a membership in county farm bureaus of 400,000. In the next two
years the southern states, which previously had developed no strong
county organizations, rapidly adopted the farm bureau idea, and when the
American Farm Bureau Federation held its second annual meeting at
Atlanta, Ga., in November, 1921, it included 35 states with a local
membership of 967,279.
I have dwelt at length upon the growth of the county agent and farm
bureau movement, because there is probably no one agency which has done
more in the last decade toward the integration of rural communities
throughout the United States or which has had a larger educational
influence on all aspects of country life. The farm bureau usually
organizes its local work by communities and in large numbers of counties
the community areas have been defined for the first time by the county
agents. The value of this organization by communities was repeatedly
shown during the war. For example, in New York State it was possible
for the county agents to organize meetings on the Agricultural
Mobilization Day called by the Governor on April 21, 1917, in 1,089
communities, with an attendance of 85,075 persons, upon only a weeks
notice. In several of the states which have encouraged community
organizations, a very definite effort has been made to develop an
all-round program of community improvement. Thus the West Virginia
extension service has invented a community score card[49] with which
several communities have scored themselves for three successive years in
order to make an analysis of their social situation and to enable them
to outline a program of work for the solution of their local problems.
Several of the states are now employing specialists to assist the farm
bureaus in their problems of community organization.
The county organization of extension work has been unique in its
educational methods; methods which have large significance for all
movements for rural progress.
First, its educational method is that of the demonstration carried out
by farm people under the expert direction of paid county leaders in an
effort to solve the immediate problems of the farm and the farm home. It
builds on the experience, point of view, and interests of its pupils,
who learn under the supervision of a teacher chosen by them, through a
process which involves their making real experiments in finding the best
solution of their problems. No class of people, here or elsewhere, has
ever had opportunity for the training in the scientific attitude and
point of view which American farmers may now receive, and on account of
the nature and organization of their work they are steadily and surely,
if not entirely consciously, adopting the method of science. The
consequence of this movement in the social and political development of
this country cannot be foretold, for the scientific attitude must
finally be the basis of all true democracy.
Secondly, the program of work--the subject matter of the educational
method--is largely chosen by the people themselves, but with the help of
experts employed by them to supervise its execution. Here we have an
institution arising from the land, wholly democratic in spirit and
polity, yet recognizing the services of experts and employing them for
its own purposes. In the county farm bureaus, and the organizations to
which they have given rise, there is developing a new use of science
both in the educational methods and in the employment of scientifically
trained leaders, in the service of and directed by a democracy--a
democracy no longer provincial but of national scope in that there is
real coöperation between the local community, the county, the state, and
the nation.
Lastly, the extension movement recognizes that only by the development
and training of the largest amount of enthusiastic, voluntary, local
leadership can its work have a foundation which will make it permanent.
It thus recognizes an essential factor of all social organization, i.e.,
the power of personal leadership in shaping the public opinion of the
group, and it consciously undertakes the development of intelligent
initiative as a means of social progress.
When one has observed the feeble beginnings of this movement only a
decade ago, and has witnessed its growth to the present nation-wide
system, promoting plans for national organizations for coöperative
marketing, he appreciates the power of science, education, and
organization as new forces in the life of the rural community, whose
future influence one would be rash to prophesy.
This account would be misleading if it failed to indicate that the
extension movement has given attention to the problems of the farm home,
of the mother and the children, as well as to those of the farm
business. In 1910, girls' canning clubs were started in the Southern
States and young women were employed to supervise their work. Very soon
the mothers became interested and before long home demonstration agents
were appointed to work with the agricultural demonstration agents. In
1916 home demonstration work was in progress in 420 counties in the
South. A few home demonstration agents were employed by farm bureaus in
the Northern States prior to 1917, but the additional funds appropriated
by Congress for food conservation work during the war caused a rapid
increase in their number and women's work in the North received its
chief impetus during the war. The Smith-Lever Act specified that its
funds should be used for extension work in home economics as well as in
agriculture, but it was not until the farm bureaus commenced to employ
home demonstration agents and to organize the women for their support
that work with the farm home became established on a permanent basis. In
most of the northern states the farm bureau is now organized on what is
called the "family plan," that is, it includes in its program of work
projects dealing with the farm for men, with the farm home for women,
and with club work in agriculture and home economics for boys and girls.
In many of the states a separate agent is employed for each of these
lines of work and the women are organized in a separate department of
the county farm bureau and have their own local farm women's clubs. In
New York State the women's work has been further differentiated by
organizing it as a County Home Bureau which with the Farm Bureau forms
the County Farm and Home Bureau Association.
During the war the home demonstration agents gave their attention to
food conservations and clothing, but as a permanent program has
developed the local clubs of farm women have shown a lively interest in
problems of health, home management, care of children, education,
recreation, and civics. They have found that the problems of the home
cannot be solved without an effort to create better community conditions
and "community housekeeping" has attracted an increasing interest. The
present aims of the women's work have been aptly phrased in the Home
Bureau Creed written by Dr. Ruby Green Smith, associate state leader of
home demonstration agents in New York:
The Home Bureau Creed
"To maintain the highest ideals of home life; to count
children the most important of crops; to so mother them that
their bodies may be sound, their minds clear, their spirits
happy, and their characters generous:
"To place service above comfort; to let loyalty to high
purposes silence discordant note; to let neighborliness
supplant hatreds; to be discouraged never:
"To lose self in generous enthusiasms; to extend to the less
fortunate a helping hand; to believe one's community may
become the best of communities; and to coöperate with others
for the common ends of a more abundant home and community
life:
"This is the offer of the Home Bureau to the homemaker of
to-day."
Nor should we fail to recognize the part which the boys' and girls' club
work has had in the extension movement. Space will not permit any
adequate account of its origin and growth, or of its methods and
influence. No movement has done more to redirect and give dynamic to the
rural school than has the club work; nor has any movement done more to
train leadership among the coming generation on the farms. Commencing
with corn clubs for the boys, canning clubs were soon organized for the
girls, and later pig clubs, potato clubs, calf clubs, sewing clubs,
cooking clubs, and clubs are now organized with various projects
covering almost all phases of agriculture and home economics. These
clubs may be called the Junior Farm Bureau, for in them farm children
are receiving a training which will mean much for the future
organization of country life. The public confidence in the work is shown
by the fact that in 1920, 500 banks in the northern and western states
loaned nearly $900,000 to club boys and girls for financing their
projects.[50] As a result of the school exhibits of the products of the
club work, many a community fair has been started, and as a result of
club picnics and play days community picnics or festivals have become an
annual event in many places and have brought better feeling and
increased pride and loyalty to the community. In 1919, 464,979 boys and
girls were enrolled in club work.
Thus the extension movement started by the agricultural colleges and the
United States Department of Agriculture has become a national movement
of rural people, men, women, and children, whose strength is largely due
to the fact that it has been the means of organizing the local
communities and of bringing them together in county organizations, which
with the aid of state and national funds and supervision, employ trained
executives to stimulate and supervise the work of the local groups. It
is a unique agency for the education and organization of rural life
which is giving the American farmer a new position in the life of the
nation.
FOOTNOTES:
[47] This movement can only be sketched in barest outline. It is fully
and authoritatively discussed in another volume of this series by Prof.
M. C. Burritt, entitled "The County Agent and the Farm Bureau." See also
O. B. Martin, "The Demonstration Work." Boston, The Stratford Co.
[48] For a full discussion of this movement, its objectives and
accomplishments, see O. M. Kile, "The Farm Bureau Movement," Macmillan,
New York, 1921.
[49] Nat. T. Frame, "Lifting the Country Community." Circular 255,
Extension Division, W. Va. University, 1921.
[50] See "Status and Results of Boys' and Girls' Club Work, Northern and
Western States," 1920. George E. Farell. U. S. Dept. of Agriculture,
Department Circular 192.
CHAPTER XI
THE COMMUNITY'S RELIGIOUS LIFE
From the earliest times and among all peoples the common religious life
has formed one of the strongest bonds of the rural community. Several of
the original thirteen colonies which formed the United States were
settled by those seeking freedom to worship as they chose, and as their
descendants migrated westward many of the new settlements were largely
composed of the membership of some one church or those of a similar
faith. Dr. Warren H. Wilson has called attention to the fact that the
Mormons, the Pennsylvania Germans, and the Scotch Presbyterians are the
most successful farmers and remain on the land because they have given a
religious sanction to country life and have made the church the center
of the life of the community, as it was in the medieval village
community of Europe. Whatever attitude one may take toward their
religious beliefs, all impartial observers are agreed that the Mormons
have established the strongest agricultural communities and that they
have discovered and applied to a high degree some of the most
fundamental principles of social organization. Concerning them Dr.
Wilson says:
"These exceptional farmers are organized in the interest of
agriculture. The Mormons represent this organization in the
highest degree. Perhaps no other so large or so powerful a
body of united farmers is found in the whole country. They
have approached the economic questions of farming with
determination to till the soil. They distrust city life and
condemn it. They teach their children and they discipline
themselves to love the country, to appreciate its
advantages and to recognize that their own welfare is bound
up in their success as farmers, and in the continuance of
their farming communities. This agricultural organization
centers in their country churches. They have turned the
force of religion into a community making power, and from
the highest to the lowest of their church officers the
Mormon people are devoted to agriculture as a mode of
living."[51]
But although large numbers of communities throughout the United States
were settled by people of one religious faith, and thus had the
strongest bond of community, yet large areas were settled by scattered
homesteaders belonging to different sects, and as time went on,
newcomers came into the older communities and established churches of
various denominations, so that throughout most of the country the
churches have come to have more of a divisive than a unifying influence
on community life.
In our discussion of the religious life of the rural community we shall
confine our attention to the protestant churches, because most of our
rural people are protestants. It is true that in some sections, such as
Louisiana and southern Maryland, and in many sections recently settled
by Europeans, the people are mostly Roman Catholics; but in general the
catholic church is strongest in the cities and towns and does not have
strong rural parishes throughout the country. Throughout most of the
United States the Methodist, Episcopal and Baptist denominations have by
far the largest number of churches and membership, and their traditions
and methods have largely shaped the religious life of our rural
communities.
During the century in which the United States west of the Alleghanies
has been settled conditions have changed with such rapidity that the
religious life is still largely dominated by its development during the
days of early settlement and the present generation is faced with the
problem of readjustment of its religious institutions to meet the
present situation. In the days of the pioneer the circuit rider made his
rounds over a large district, preaching at school houses and private
homes and in the few country churches at intervals of one to three
months. As the country became more thickly populated, country churches
sprang up and several of them were joined together in the employment of
a resident pastor with preaching at the larger churches every week and
at the outlying stations once in two or three weeks. Doctrinal beliefs
were strong and theological differences were frequently bitter. The
preaching was practically the only service of the church, except for an
annual "protracted meeting" or revival. The main emphasis was upon the
personal salvation of the sinner. Sunday schools had not become a
recognized feature of the church and but little thought was given to
religious education and training by the church. The minister christened
the babies, married the young people and buried the dead, but otherwise,
with numerous preaching services, he was unable to do much pastoral
work. A large proportion of the rural churches were located in the open
country and like the district school were largely neighborhood churches,
for bad roads and horse-drawn vehicles made it difficult for people to
go over two or three miles. In many cases several churches were
established in a single village or in nearby neighborhoods by different
denominations and were largely supported by home-missionary aid
contributed by the older churches in the East and the wealthier city
parishes. Prior to the Civil War when most of our population was engaged
in farming and before the exodus of the last half century to the towns
and cities, most of the rural churches were fairly well attended, but
with the recent decline in rural population, many of them, and
particularly those in the open country, have faced the same situation as
the district school in that there are now too few people to make
possible the economic support of a pastor and church building.
Furthermore, it must be recognized that the standards of rural people
have changed as regards the church in the same way that they have
concerning the school. When all of the people have had a common school
education, many of them have had high school training, a few have been
to college, and many of them now and then visit the larger churches of
towns and cities, they are no longer satisfied with the occasional
preaching of an uneducated man, however religious and earnest he may be.
The Sunday school has become an established part of the work of the
church and as people have appreciated the value of education in secular
affairs, they have come to place more hope in the religious training of
their children than in merely saving them by sudden conversion. The
church is becoming more and more an institution for the training and
expression of religious life rather than only a place for preaching.
Moreover, the church now has to meet the competition of other
institutions and interests which did not exist in the earlier days. The
grange, the lodge, organizations of all sorts, moving pictures,
athletics and automobiles, furnish means of association and command the
interest and support of the people, where formerly there was only the
church for the righteous and the tavern or the saloon for the convivial.
All of these and other factors have conspired to weaken the relative
influence of the church in our rural communities and the situation has
become so serious in many sections that it has challenged the attention
of denominational leaders. During the past fifteen years there have
been a series of careful studies of the condition of the rural churches
in various parts of the country. These studies have given indisputable
evidence of the conditions responsible for the decline of the rural
church and of the measures which must be taken if the religious life of
the rural community is to be adequately fostered; and they have clearly
shown that the problems of the rural church must be solved from the
standpoint of meeting the religious needs of the rural community rather
than that of the interests of the individual church. In the older parts
of the country, and--alas--far too frequently in the newer sections, the
most serious obstacle to the religious life of the community is an
unnecessary number of churches, which divide its limited resources both
of funds and leadership. Overchurching is more largely responsible for
the decadence of the rural church than any one factor. Small
congregations are unable to support a full time pastor, and where
several of them are competing in a small community, it is deprived of
the services of a resident minister. Preaching once in two weeks and
practically no pastoral visitation are not conducive to the life of a
church. The small church maintains its Sunday school with difficulty for
there are too few of any one age for a satisfactory division of classes.
Equally serious is the fact that the ablest men will not enter the
ministry to devote themselves to what they regard as an unnecessary and
unchristian competition.
Tompkins County, where I live, is a fair average of rural New York. A
recent survey shows that but eight of its twenty-eight rural communities
have full time resident pastors, though there are ministers residing in
twenty-five parishes who also serve other parishes nearby. Throughout
the county there was one church for every 332 people, but the average
village church had but 92 active members, and the average country
church had but 32. The church membership has remained practically
stationary for thirty years, while the attendance has decreased from 21
percent of the rural population in 1890 to 14 percent in 1920. One
community of 900 population had five churches, no one of which had a
resident pastor or over 45 members, while two of them had but 11 members
each and were closed. Six strictly rural communities in the southern
part of the county have 16 churches, though none of these places can
properly support more than one church with a resident pastor. After a
careful study of the whole county, I am of the opinion that if at least
one-third of the rural churches were abandoned or combined, the work of
the church would be greatly strengthened. This county is cited because
it is fairly typical; many worse have been reported in other surveys.
Another handicap of the rural church is the frequent shift of ministers.
In Tompkins County only 4 of the 57 churches have had the same pastor
for ten years, 17 changed pastors three times in ten years and 17 of the
pastors had been in their parishes one year or less. When a minister
stays but a year or two, his parishioners tend to be only acquaintances
and rarely does he really know them. A minister cannot become well
enough acquainted with a new parish to do effective pastoral work in
less than a year, and many ministers who have seemingly good programs of
work fail to realize them because they attempt to force progress and to
secure results more rapidly than is possible. One of the chief duties of
the rural pastor is to train leadership. A church is no stronger than
its permanent resident leadership. No matter how brilliant the work of
the minister, if he has failed to develop local leadership, his work is
soon dissipated when he leaves. Now leadership cannot be produced in a
year or so and where it is most needed it requires several years to
discover and develop it. Unfortunately much of this frequent shifting of
rural pastors is directly due to ecclesiastical rule rather than to the
needs of the local churches, though much of it results from meager
salaries and sectarian rivalries which soon discourage a man who sees
larger opportunities for service elsewhere.
Numerous studies of the actual condition of the rural church in many
parts of the country all show the futility of denominational competition
in maintaining two or three churches where only one is needed or can be
supported. Furthermore, the present generation of young married people
who desire the best religious influences for their children are no
longer much interested in the theological or ecclesiastical differences
of the various denominations, and they refuse to support them or do so
under protest and with an apathy which makes effective church work
impossible. As a result, there has been a strong movement in recent
years toward the consolidation of rural churches and for the
establishment of what are called "community churches." Although much
effort has been given toward getting denominational boards and leaders
to form state federations for promoting inter-denominational comity, and
although notable progress in this direction has been made in a few
states, particularly in Maine and Vermont, yet the chief impetus to the
community church movement has come from the people themselves, who have
insisted upon a combination of the local churches often in spite of
ecclesiastical indifference or opposition. The lack of coal in 1918
induced many churches to hold their services together and in many cases
gave an impetus to the idea of their permanent federation.
The term community church has come to be applied to various forms of
churches, but whatever its form, its fundamental purpose is the service
of the community rather than the advancement of a particular
denomination and it admits all Christian people to its fellowship, in
contrast to the exclusiveness of the purely denominational church which
insists upon the importance of particular theological beliefs or systems
of church government.
As the term is now used a "community church" may be a church definitely
affiliated with some denomination, it may be a "federated" church, or a
"union" church. The union church is unaffiliated with any religious
denomination. If it be the only church in a community, it is then a
community church, but if one or two others decline to unite, it is a
_community church_ only in aspiration. It is this type of independent
union church, to which the term community church is most commonly
applied by the laity, and such community churches have increased rapidly
in the past five years as a protest of the people against denominational
competition and inefficiency. These independent community churches have
now become so numerous in one or two states that they are holding state
conventions. The question at once arises whether if they become
affiliated in even the most nominal manner they will not soon constitute
what will practically be another denomination and will fail to effect
the growth of Christian unity which they desire. On the other hand,
denominational leaders who are in entire sympathy with the abolishment
of competition and the establishment of but one church in a rural
community where only one is needed, point out that the union church
loses the advantages of affiliation with a body of churches which have
regional and national boards and agencies for giving them assistance and
support in their work. The history not only of church but of all sorts
of secular organizations, indicates that sooner or later local
organizations with common aims and purposes tend to get together in
conventions and to establish federations through which they may unite
their resources in maintaining agencies to promote the common cause.
Most organizations, whether religious or secular, need the stimulus of
association with kindred organizations devoted to the same purposes and
the help of expert supervision which can be secured only from state or
national bodies.
The "federated church" obviates this difficulty to a certain extent.
Each of the federating churches maintains its own corporate identity and
its affiliation with its own denomination, to which it sends its
contributions for benevolences and denominational work. The federating
churches form a joint organization for the employment of a minister and
use the same building, or use two buildings in common--sometimes one for
church and one for Sunday school services or social purposes,--and the
church is a community church for all practical purposes. In the long run
this usually results in a federated church finally affiliating with the
denomination which is preferred by the large majority of its membership
and which is least objectionable to the minority.
Denominational leaders, on the other hand, hold that neither "union" or
"federated" churches will be permanently satisfactory, but that the
community church, though organized on the "federated" principle, should
be definitely affiliated with some one denomination, and that a single
denominational church which effectively serves the whole community may
be truly a "community church."
Whatever the outcome of this movement may be it has forced the
recognition of the fact that the religious welfare of the rural
community should be the first consideration and that denominational
relations must be conceived as a means rather than an end, as has
commonly been the case heretofore. When country people have learned the
advantages of consolidated schools and of coöperation in marketing, and
have developed the ability to work together in these and other phases of
community life, they are no longer content to waste their energies in
maintaining feeble churches, whose differences no longer command their
loyalties, and they very naturally desire to bury their religious
differences and to coöperate in the maintenance of a single church which
will give that inspiration and dynamic to all the life of the community
which can be furnished only through the religious motive. So in religion
as in other phases of life, the community idea is replacing the older
individualism.
We have already noted the change of emphasis in the work of the church
from that of merely holding a preaching service for the personal
salvation of adults, to a greater reliance upon the power of religious
education through the Sunday school and other organizations of young
people. When Sunday schools were first started, a century or more ago,
they were bitterly opposed by many of the more conservative church
people. To-day they are a recognized part of all protestant churches,
but oddly enough their advancement has been due more largely to the work
of the laity than to that of the clergy, although there can be no
question that church membership is most largely recruited from the
Sunday schools. Thus in our survey of Tompkins County, New York, we
found that out of 175 persons admitted to the rural churches on
confession of faith, 61 of whom were adults and 114 children, 134 were
previous members of the Sunday school.
The rural Sunday school in the small church has the same difficulty as
does the district school, in that it has too few scholars of
approximately the same age to form classes of sufficient size to command
their interest and enthusiasm. Likewise it is forced to depend upon
untrained and frequently-changing teachers. Although there has been a
marked advance in the grading and organization of Sunday schools and of
the literature for their study, yet there is a growing conviction that a
period of twenty minutes a week is inadequate to secure effective
religious education. On the other hand, although the separation of
church and state in this country prevents the giving of religious
instruction in our public schools, educators have come to recognize its
importance in the education of the child. As a result there is now a
definite movement for the organization of week-day schools of religion.
When these schools are conducted by trained teachers and their work is
of an educational standard satisfactory to the public schools, the
pupils are given credit for their work toward promotion in the public
schools. The State of New York has enacted definite legislation
permitting the schools to dismiss those pupils whose parents so desire,
for a definite period each week when they may attend whatever school of
religious instruction their parents may designate, and for which the
public schools shall give credit when satisfactory as to educational
methods. Such week-day schools of religious instruction have been
carried on in some of our cities for several years, and at the present
time are being introduced into rural communities in various sections of
the country. Sometimes each church maintains its own school, but
inasmuch as this movement is usually promoted by the inter-denominational
Sunday school associations the tendency is to secure the coöperation of
all the protestant churches in establishing one school for the community.
This movement is still young, but if it makes the progress which now
seems probable, it should be a powerful agency toward the elimination of
weak churches. It makes possible the organization of graded classes of
sufficient size so that a real group spirit and interest are created and
the instruction can be given with the same pedagogical efficiency as in
the public schools. Obviously the success of the movement will depend
upon the degree to which it can command the support of the whole
community and it will thus tend to strengthen community life.
A new attitude toward the social life of its people is also having a
large influence upon the program of many rural churches. Formerly
religion was one thing and sociability was another, and the church felt
no responsibility for the recreation of its people. Gradually church
suppers and sociables became customary, but they were held either to
raise money or as a means for attracting outsiders into the fold. In the
days when money was scarce in the rural community it was often difficult
to raise the pastor's salary. Much of his salary was paid in kind, and
annual "donation parties" contributed a considerable share of his
living. But as markets developed and farmers came to sell most of their
products for cash, money became more plentiful and it became evident
that no church can be maintained upon a sound business basis which does
not make up an annual budget and raise it by the direct contributions of
its people. Putting the finances of the church on a business basis has
removed the need of church suppers for raising funds, but their social
value has become so apparent that they are now held merely for the
better acquaintance and enjoyment of the church people. In so far as the
social life of the church has been consciously planned as a "bait" for
outsiders to attract them into the church, it has, in the long run
usually been ineffectual. Too often the motive has been so thinly veiled
and the program of the social hour has been given such a religious
atmosphere that outsiders very naturally take a defensive attitude, and
although they may enjoy the occasion they are perfectly aware of its
ulterior objective.
Recently, however, the church has come to appreciate that play and
recreation are a normal and necessary part of the life of its people and
that it cannot abolish the saloon and condemn certain amusements without
incurring a responsibility to provide, or to see that there is provided,
satisfying facilities for recreation and sociability. In short, it is
coming to recognize that a social program should be undertaken because
it is a worthy service and a real need of the people and not as a mere
means to other ends. Furthermore, where the church generously sponsors a
social program which is enjoyed by all the people of the community,
without thought of its being aimed at any proselyting, many of them come
to take an increased interest in the strictly religious services and
work of the church.
So to-day many a rural church is holding community sings, its young
people are staging amateur dramatic entertainments, its boys have a
troop of boy scouts and the girls join the girl scouts or the camp-fire
girls, baseball and basketball teams are formed from the Sunday school
classes, the men have a club which meets once a month for the discussion
of current topics and a supper, the women come together for sewing
parties, and the whole people assemble for suppers and for the
celebration of national holidays and festival occasions. In a small
village in western New York the four Sunday schools have recently formed
an athletic association which has erected a one-story gymnasium in which
the boys can play basketball and all can find enjoyment.
One of the handicaps of the average country church is that its building
is not adapted to social purposes, although the newer buildings are
being constructed with better facilities. Sometimes this need is being
met by erecting a separate church house which is used for Sunday school
and social purposes. Where there is more than one church it is
frequently felt that one building may serve the needs of all and so in
many communities the churches have united in the promotion of community
buildings to serve as social centers for all the people. Thus in its
social as well as in its educational program the church finds that a
satisfactory social life cannot be secured through sectarian
competition, but that by united effort the churches may meet the
community needs.
Although in the past the chief duty of the country minister was to
preach on Sunday, yet those most beloved and most successful in building
up strong churches have won the hearts of their people more largely
through their pastoral work, through their personal acquaintance and
influence on the lives of families and individuals. Although a broader
educational and social program is needed in the rural church, there is
an equal opportunity for a larger service through a new sort of pastoral
work by the minister who can serve the community as a social worker.
There is an impression that there is no need for so-called social work,
for the expert assistance of the poor, the neglected, the delinquent,
and the mentally defective, in most rural communities; that this may be
necessary for the city slums, but that there are but few such people in
the open country. But the recent work started during the war by the Home
Service of the local chapters of the American Red Cross and the work of
various child welfare and health organizations have shown that country
people are not always aware of the needs of some of their not distant
neighbors, and that there is a deal of service which might be given the
more unfortunate members of the average rural community which they are
not now receiving. The average rural community cannot support a paid
social worker and needs but part of her time, while the county is
usually too large an area for her to cover. Why should not the rural
minister be qualified to do much of the family welfare work of his
community, calling in outside expert assistance when needed? What better
pastoral work could he do, and yet how many rural pastors are doing this
sort of work in any intelligent sort of fashion, and how many families
in need, outside of his own membership, would turn to the average rural
minister for help? Dr. C. J. Galpin has well said of the rural minister
that "he is the recognized community psychologist and sociologist." The
trouble is that although he is often so recognized, he is usually an
amateur rather than a professional. Obviously, as a doctor of souls, the
village pastor should be the local "social worker" of every rural
community, but if he is to so serve he must first be trained so that he
can bring to bear a knowledge of social science upon the problems of the
families with which he deals. An average rural community can hardly
afford more than one pastor with such qualifications, and it is evident
that he would need to give his whole time to one parish. Such a modern
representative of the old "curé" of the medieval parish could give real
spiritual service to many a rural family which the average rural church
never reaches, and he would be a real father to his people.
Finally, and most important, we must recognize that no other institution
can take the place of the Christian church as a source of those ideals
of life which give religious sanction to loyalty to the common good--to
the community--rather than to self or particular interests. The ideals
of its Founder who conceived the fatherhood of God and the brotherhood
of man as the norm of human relationships, and who thought man's
relation to man should be the expression of his loyalty to their common
Father, will ever furnish the strongest spiritual dynamic for the best
community life, for the whole community movement is but one means toward
the realization of His ideal of the Kingdom of God on earth. Indeed so
keen a mind as the late Professor Josiah Royce has interpreted the
spirit of the early church and the ultimate aim of Christianity as that
of "the beloved community."[52] Though it may require new equipment and
new methods to meet the changed conditions of modern life, the mission
of religion to interpret the highest values of life will ever make it
the motive force of community life, the heart of the community. As Dr.
E. DeS. Brunner has well said, "The aim of the country church movement
is not to substitute anything for the Gospel. It is to assist in
expressing the best religion of the ages in terms of the best spirit of
the age."[53]
FOOTNOTES:
[51] "The Evolution of the Country Community," p. 63. Boston, The
Pilgrim Press, 1912.
[52] Cf. "The Problem of Christianity."
[53] "The Country Church in the New World Order," p. 39.
CHAPTER XII
THE COMMUNITY'S HEALTH
In the early days in which the country was but sparsely settled,
sickness, except for epidemics of such diseases as smallpox and yellow
fever, was regarded as an individual affair. In recent years
bacteriology and medical science have revealed the causes of many
diseases and the manner in which they are spread. With a denser
population and with more frequent contacts as a result of better
transportation, the possibility of contagion has very largely increased
and we now appreciate that the health of the family--even of the rural
family--cannot be maintained without attention to the health of the
community as a whole. Good health has become a responsibility of the
community.
The rapid growth of cities in the last fifty years has forced them to
take measures for the preservation of health, and public health
administration has become a distinct branch of medical science. It is
the health problems which have arisen in the congested sections of our
large cities, and those which are due to a sedentary life or to
unhealthful conditions of certain trades and industries, which have
incited the discoveries of medical science and which have created a new
attitude toward sanitation and hygiene among city people.
There has been a distinct change with regard to the attitude of society
toward health. A generation or two ago many people--particularly elderly
females--were not ashamed of "enjoying poor health," and a delicate
physique was regarded as rather incidental to the more highly cultured.
To-day, although we sympathize with the afflicted, society places a
premium upon a sound physique. The importance of physical exercise, of
recreation and athletics for the development and maintenance of a sound
body are now much more fully appreciated than they were fifty years ago.
We are coming to understand that good health is largely due to habits of
personal hygiene which must be instilled by the home and the school, and
that without such habits the mere knowledge of sanitation and hygiene
will not be generally applied. This new emphasis upon physical fitness
has naturally received larger attention in the cities on account of the
more unfavorable conditions of city life, while the new knowledge and
appreciation of the value of health has not been so constantly forced
upon the attention of rural people.
Gradually we are coming to appreciate that we have an ethical
responsibility for good health, and it is even receiving a religious
sanction, for we have come to know that the cause of evil behavior may
be due primarily to an unsound body rather than to a perverted soul. The
church has ever ministered to the sick and has supported hospitals, but
to-day it is commencing to advocate the prevention of disease through
sanitation and hygiene, and to preach the religious duty of fostering
health and preventing sickness.
One of the principal factors in the farmer's relative indifference to
health measures is the fact that he has become accustomed to think that
an outdoor life and isolation from other people give him an ability to
withstand sickness and he has rather gloried in his ability to throw off
ordinary ailments and to withstand the physical hardship which his work
often demands. He can see how health conditions may need attention in
the city where people are crowded together, but he is not impressed that
other causes make such diseases as typhoid and malaria much more
prevalent in the open country, and that bad sanitation on a farm a mile
away may cause sickness in his own family. American farmers have been
educated on the nature and spread of disease by their experience with
animal diseases, such as bovine tuberculosis, hog cholera, and Texas
fever. If they can be interested to utilize this knowledge in the care
of the health of their own families, and if they will provide health
facilities for their own families equal to those which they feel
necessary for their livestock, health conditions on the farm will show
rapid improvement. It is not that the farmer is indifferent to the
health of his family, but he has been _forced_ to have his herd tested
for tuberculosis, and he faces the possibility of heavy losses if he
does not have his hogs vaccinated for cholera, while he has not
appreciated that by preventative agencies the better health of his wife
and children may be insured and the cost of remedial treatment be
greatly lessened.
The purely economic aspects of sickness and disease have been a potent
factor in the health movement, particularly in cities. The vast sums
invested in life insurance have led progressive insurance companies into
extensive campaigns for promoting public health so that their risks may
be reduced. Vast quantities of the best health literature have been
distributed by some of the industrial insurance companies and they have
done much to demonstrate the value of public health nursing by employing
nurses who visit their policy holders. The extension of the insurance
method to health insurance, and the adoption of insurance by large
corporations for their employees has furthered this general movement,
and has revealed the tremendous economic losses due to preventable
sickness and disease. The farmer has failed to appreciate the purely
economic handicap under which he labors as a result of sickness and the
lack of adequate medical service and efficient public health
administration such as cities enjoy, because the cost of sickness is
distributed and is borne by each family and he has no means of knowing
the aggregate cost for the whole community. Were it possible for a rural
community to secure and have brought to its attention the total economic
loss due to sickness in a given year and the proportion which might be
preventable with a reasonable expenditure for better health facilities,
its people would doubtless become as interested in better health
administration as does the employer in a large city industry, and the
true economy of better health facilities would be apparent.
Few concrete studies of the losses occasioned by sickness in rural
communities have been made, but one of Dutchess County,[54] New York, in
1915 well illustrates the conditions which would doubtless be found in
many another rural county. This survey covered five districts of the
county with an aggregate population of about 11,800--most of which was
rural territory. 1,600 cases of serious illness were found to have
occurred during the year. "Some 9,000 days were lost by men and women of
working age (15 to 54 years). Children lost 13,700 school days. On the
average this cost the community for each child at least 33 cents a day
for which it received no return. These two items safely represent a
money loss of $20,000 to $25,000." As a result of the study it was
estimated that the total money loss occasioned by sickness in a year
within the whole county would be at least $412,000. "Of the 1,600
patients whose care has been analyzed in this report, 72 percent could
have been cared for adequately in their own homes had there been
available medical and nursing service. The remaining 28 percent (442
patients) could not have been cared for adequately in their own homes
... 24 percent of the patients secured no medical care. Many startling
instances of unnecessary and indefensible suffering and misery were
found.... Of the 113 women who went through childbirth in their homes,
only one had the continuous care of a graduate nurse, and only 18 had
any service whatever from graduate visiting nurses. 35 percent of the
children born came into the world under unfit conditions and
surroundings." Largely as a result of this study, Dutchess County now
has an efficient county health association through which a number of
public health nurses are employed, who visit all districts of the
county.
One of the most serious handicaps in maintaining the health of the rural
community is its frequent lack of medical service. The number of doctors
practising in the open country was always inadequate, but in recent
years it has decreased until now many large sections are without any
resident physician. The influenza epidemic of 1918, following the
shortage of doctors during the war, revealed the plight of many a rural
community without medical service. The higher standards now required by
medical colleges and state licensing boards has resulted in a real
shortage of physicians and the young men are not going into the country
to practise. A recent study made by the New York State Department of
Health showed that in 20 rural counties 88 percent of the physicians had
been practising over 25 years and only 3 percent less than ten years.
This means that most of the rural doctors in these counties have less
than ten years more to practise and that there is no indication that
their places will be filled by younger men. In Manitoba one rural
municipality has employed a physician on full time, and a recent act of
the New York legislature makes it possible for towns to employ
physicians. It seems probable that country people will be forced to
employ physicians on a salaried basis if they are to secure adequate
medical service. This does not necessarily mean, however, that the
physician will be employed by the local government. Industrial workers
are now employing physicians on a salary and farmers' organizations are
employing salaried veterinarians. Why cannot a local health association
be formed to employ a physician, whose job it will be to keep its people
well?
Two factors prevent the larger use of physicians now available. Chief of
these is the cost. Farmers handle relatively less actual money than
townsmen, and their income is less frequent so that they have less on
hand, while the cost of medical attendance is necessarily higher in the
country. Fear of running up a bill deters many a farm woman from calling
a doctor, when one call might prevent many more later on. The farm home
tends to employ a physician only for serious sickness, rather than as a
medical adviser who may forestall illness. Another difficulty is one of
the physician's own making. The experience is far too common that in
cases of immediate need when the family doctor cannot be located,
doctors will refuse to attend a case on account of so-called
"professional courtesy." It is time that public opinion be aroused so
that such cases be brought to the attention of county medical societies
with sufficient public opinion to force them to take suitable action.
The ethics of every profession must be shaped to meet the needs of those
it serves as well as the pocketbooks of its members.
Lack of medical attendance is most serious for the farm mother during
confinement, and the mortality of rural mothers during childbirth, as
shown by the investigations of the U. S. Children's Bureau, is an
indictment of our supposed civilization. When we learn that in a
homesteading county in Montana there were 12.7 deaths of mothers per
1,000 births, which is twice the rate for the United States as a whole,
which is higher than that of fifteen foreign countries for which
statistics were available in 1915, we face a condition which cannot be
neglected. When we find that in Wisconsin this rate was but 6 per 1,000,
and that 68 percent were attended by physicians, and in Kansas it was
but 2.9 per thousand and 95 percent had physicians, while in Montana
only 47 percent were attended, loss of life due to isolation and lack of
medical care is apparent. In sparsely settled regions the solution of
this problem seems to demand the provision of local maternity hospitals,
for the difficulty is primarily one of isolation.
Since medical science has shown that sparkling spring water may carry
the deadly typhoid germ as a result of distant contamination, that wells
are frequently contaminated by nearby privies or barn yards, that
malaria is carried by mosquitoes, and that the house fly may carry
typhoid fever and intestinal diseases of infants, we have come to
appreciate that isolation and pure country air do not insure freedom
from infection, and that sanitation is as important on the farm as in
the city. Indeed the transmission of disease by flies is much easier on
the farm, for too often the manure pile where they multiply is not far
from the house, while in many a city the smaller number of horses and
the cleaning of manure from the streets prevents their increase. The
sanitation of the farm home thus becomes a very large factor in the
health of the rural community. Surveys made by health officers in recent
years have shown the general need of better sanitary provisions and also
the possibility of the direct benefits secured from their improvement.
In Indiana the State Board of Health surveyed nine typical rural
counties taking only the homes on farms and in unincorporated villages.
The average score of 6,124 rural homes in these nine counties was but
56.2 percent, the average for individual counties varying from 43 to 61
percent. In 1914, 1915, and 1916, the U. S. Public Health Service made
sanitary surveys of 51,544 farm homes in 15 rural counties scattered
throughout the United States, but mostly in the South. Its report[55]
states that only 1.22 percent of these farm homes were equipped for a
really sanitary disposal of human excreta, while in one county in
Alabama less than 20 percent of the farm homes had toilets of any kind.
"Sixty-eight percent of the water supply used for drinking or culinary
purposes was obviously exposed to dangerous contamination from privy
contents"; and only 32.88 percent of the houses were effectively
screened against flies. A very considerable improvement in farm
sanitation has resulted from the educational campaigns conducted during
the past decade, but effective rural sanitation awaits the employment of
public health officials who will convince the people of each local
community of their individual responsibility for the health conditions
on their own farms and of their common liability for the health of each
other.
With the above conditions in mind, let us now consider the agencies for
health conservation in rural communities. We have already seen that the
old-fashioned country doctor is rapidly disappearing. With better
transportation now available it seems probable that physicians will live
in the larger village centers, but with telephone communication and the
automobile it should be possible to secure as prompt medical attendance.
We may as well recognize that many a rural community is too small a unit
to support a resident physician and that if satisfactory medical
treatment is to be secured we shall have to have better hospital and
clinical facilities so that the time of the physician can be economized
and frequent attention can be given.
Most rural townships have a local board of health and health officer,
who is charged with reporting births and deaths and with the enforcement
of quarantines against contagious diseases, but it is notorious that
these local health officials are rarely efficient or take any leadership
in the betterment of public health. Ordinarily the health officer
receives little if any pay, and is a resident physician who is not
inclined to antagonize his own clients when the enforcement of health
regulations would meet their opposition. Students of rural health
problems are now fairly agreed that the only means of securing efficient
administration of public health regulations in rural communities is by
the employment of a full time county health officer, working under a
county board of health, who will have the same general duties as the
health officers in our cities. Local health officers would be retained,
but their work would be under the supervision of the county health
officer and would have the benefit not only of his support and
encouragement, but also of his superior technical training. If a county
superintendent is necessary for our schools, a county health officer is
equally necessary for the supervision of public health, and several
states have enacted legislation requiring or permitting the employment
of county health officers. The county is usually the best unit for rural
health administration.[56] The county health officer would have
laboratory facilities for the examination of drinking water, and samples
of blood, urine, or sputum for the detection of disease, and would give
direction for the taking of samples which might be sent to the
laboratories of the state department of health for the examination of
those specimens for which his laboratory was not equipped. He would
have general supervision of the medical examination of school children.
In numerous ways he would promote better means for health conservation,
as can be done by one who has had special training for such work and who
is giving his whole time and thought to its problems.
Although the county health officer is necessary for the administration
of the technical aspects of public health administration, the most
important gains in the health of the rural community will come through
the personal education of its people on matters of hygiene and
sanitation. This is the field of public health nurses, and I believe
that the records of their work in rural communities will show that they
have done more for health education than any other one agency. A decade
ago trained visiting nurses were practically unknown in rural
communities. In 1914 the American Red Cross first organized its Town and
Country Nursing Service and coöperated with a few rural communities in
supervising the work of trained public health nurses, but relatively few
places employed rural nurses prior to the war. The county tuberculosis
societies also employed visiting nurses who worked throughout a whole
county and whose work inevitably created a demand for visiting nurses
for a more general service. The shortage of physicians during the war
and the influenza epidemic of 1918 revealed the need for rural nurses
and since the war the local chapters of the American Red Cross, which is
devoting much of its attention to public health work, have employed
hundreds of rural public health nurses.
The success of school nurses in the cities has led to their employment
in the smaller towns, and now county school nurses are being employed in
individual counties in several states, and in other states school
nurses are employed by townships or jointly by several rural school
districts. Wisconsin and Ohio have recently enacted laws compelling
every county to employ at least one public health nurse, and a dozen or
more states have passed legislation making the employment of county or
local nurses optional. Under whatever auspices they are employed, rural
public health nurses have found that their most effective work may be
done at first in connection with the schools. Medical examination of
school children is now required in many states, but unless it is
followed up by some one who will see the parents and encourage them to
secure the necessary medical or dental treatment, the results of these
examinations are often disappointing.
A most interesting and instructive account of the work done by a county
school nurse during the first year of her work in typical Minnesota
county has been given by Miss Amalia M. Bengtson, superintendent of
schools of Renville County:
"Renville County is prosperous; there are few poor people,
no child is underfed and no one wilfully neglected, yet our
tabulated report shows an appalling amount of physical
defectiveness. Out of our school population of six thousand
we examined five thousand children, and found four thousand
and ninety-five defective, testifying that 81 percent of the
children were defective. This seems almost unbelievable, and
yet it does not tell the whole story, for I could take you
to school after school where there was 100 percent
defectiveness, where we sent a notice to every parent in
that school. Yet, as I said before, Renville County is a
prosperous county, and we have every reason to believe that
conditions in Renville County to-day are the same as in
other counties where a health survey has been taken. The
percentages of the defectiveness found were: teeth, 55
percent; nose, 40 percent; throat, 66 percent; eyes, 22
percent; ears, 17 percent; malnutrition, 16 percent;
nervous disorder, 16 percent; neck glands, 14 percent; skin,
13 percent; and general appearance, 12 per cent."[57]
In reply to the question, "What of it? What good came of the
health survey?" Miss Bengtson says: "Our records show that
about one thousand of the children examined were taken to
see either a doctor or a dentist, or both, the first year.
Parents who at first opposed the work are fully convinced
that a county nurse should be a permanent worker among us
when they see how much their children have been benefited by
a little medical help.
"Besides examining the children, the nurse has been a great
factor in bringing about a general education for better
health. In our county to-day you are behind the times if you
do not know what adenoids are and the havoc bad tonsils can
bring; why eye strain is so prevalent and how to prevent it;
why teeth should be taken care of; why we should drink
plenty of water and eat the proper kind of food; what kind
of clothing is best to wear, and why we should not wear too
heavy and too much clothing while indoors (we have induced
some little boys to remove one coat and three sweaters while
in school); why we need to be clean, etc.
"Another great service the nurse rendered us was to bring
about a veritable epidemic of school-house improvement. She
proved that the physical condition of the school-house was
reflected in the physical condition of the children. For
example, a poorly lighted and badly ventilated school-house
always housed children with eye strain and nervous disorder,
and in a school-house having ill-fitting desks were children
of poor posture.
"During the summer of that first year the nurse was with us,
we conducted so-called 'baby clinics' in the county, one in
every township and one in each village. We urged the mothers
to bring their children below school age to the clinics, and
much the same kind of examination was given them as was
given the children of school age. We found that 60 percent
of the children of pre-school age were defective."
This is but a sample of the work and experience of hundreds of rural
nurses and shows how the nurse is a health teacher in the most effective
manner, for she gets into the homes and gives personal help in bringing
about better health. She uses the demonstration method in health work
just as the home demonstration agent does with food, clothing, and home
management. Furthermore, when the nurse is devoted to her work--and most
nurses are or they would not stick to so hard a job--she becomes
endeared to the people just as does the family doctor, for the help she
gives in cases of sickness, accident, and childbirth, when she is of
invaluable service to isolated homes who can secure no other help. A
slip of a girl--though a well-trained nurse--who commenced work in a
nearby community was introduced to her new work with two confinement
cases and an accident case the first day, for none of which was a
physician obtainable. The Red Cross Nurse in my own county has spent
many a night in a farm home in order to get sufficiently acquainted with
parents to induce them to allow her to have needed treatment given to
their children, and when the parents come to realize the benefit which
their children have received from operations on tonsils or adenoids, the
fitting of glasses, and similar services, and appreciate the handicap
which such defects would have been to them through life, the nurse has a
warm place in their hearts and they eagerly support her work.
One of the difficulties of the average country doctor is his lack of
facilities for the expert diagnosis of disease and for the care of
patients who need to be kept under observation and given supervised
care. Medical science has become highly specialized. The human body is
so complicated and wonderful a mechanism that we no longer can expect
any one man to be expert on all its ailments. If one desires to secure
the best medical service, he goes to a large city hospital or a
sanitarium, where various specialists can be consulted and where
laboratory facilities are available for their aid. In the average
village or country town both specialists and laboratories are lacking
and the physician is dependent on his own knowledge and resources. The
well-trained physician who appreciates his own limitations and that he
cannot give many of his more difficult cases the care they ought to
have, sends those who can afford it to the nearest hospital, and does
the best he can for the others, but he is keenly aware that he cannot
always give them the treatment they should have and he envies his city
colleague who can take his patients to specialists for examination.
It is a fear of this professional isolation which causes the average
young doctor to start his practice in the city where he has better
facilities, and which is largely responsible for the small number of
young doctors in rural counties. It is, of course, impossible to have a
hospital in every hamlet, but it is possible to have a good hospital and
laboratories at every county seat or small city center, so that there
will be at least one such medical center in a county. Legislation has
now been enacted in several states making it possible for counties to
support a public hospital just as the larger cities have done for many
years. Here clinics may be held from time to time, to which eminent
specialists may be brought for the diagnosis of different cases, to the
advantage of both patient and physician. It is quite impossible for a
busy country doctor to maintain a private laboratory and to provide
himself with all the expensive equipment for making examination and
tests of blood, sputum, urine, for X-ray examinations, etc., but the
hospital may have all this equipment at his service.
One of the most important features of the domestic program of the
American Red Cross is the promotion of so-called "Health Centers," a
movement which is also sponsored by the American Medical Association and
other national health organizations. Such a health center may include a
hospital with well equipped laboratories and clinical facilities, or it
may be nothing more than a room in a small village, equipped with scales
for weighing children, with first aid kits for accident cases, and used
for occasional clinics for the examination of babies and children of
pre-school age and for classes in home nursing or first aid; but every
community of any size should have some place which will be a
headquarters for its local health Service, equipped as may be most
practicable to meet its needs, according to the size of the community.
Curiously enough the local physicians, who would be most helped by such
improved health facilities and whose practice would be benefited by
them, are often their chief opponents. The leaders in the medical world,
who are keen for all practicable means of improving the public health,
heartily support the "health center" movement.
We are coming to the time when the maintenance of health will be
regarded as a public function just as education is now provided for all
the people and supported by them. That country people are alive to the
need of better health facilities is shown by a resolution of the recent
(February, 1922) Agricultural Conference called by President Harding at
Washington. Its committee on farm population reported:
"The safeguarding of the health of the people in the open
country is a first consideration. Any program that looks
toward the proper safeguarding of health must include
adequate available facilities for the people in the open
country in the way of hospitals, clinics, laboratories,
dispensaries, nurses, physicians, and health officers. This
committee endorses the growing tendency through public
agencies to maintain the health of the people by means of
these facilities and agencies."
The life of rural people in America is no longer threatened by the
invasion of human foes, but it is constantly threatened by disease. It
would seem that the first public concern would be for the maintenance of
the health--the very life--of its people, but as yet we have given much
less thought to health than to education. The New York State Department
of Health has as its slogan: "Public health is purchasable. Within
natural limitations any community can determine its own death rate."
This is no longer theory, but can be demonstrated by official mortality
statistics. The death rate has declined more rapidly in cities than in
rural communities because the cities have given more adequate support to
public health organization. The rural community has all the natural
advantages in its favor and will ever have the most healthful
environment, but it must recognize that if preventable disease--with all
its attendant evils to the family and to the individual--is to be
reduced, this can be accomplished only through education and public
health agencies. Better health is a matter of the hygiene of the home
and the individual, but it has also become a concern of the common
life--a community problem.
FOOTNOTES:
[54] "A Study of Sickness in Dutchess County, New York." State Charities
Aid Association, New York City.
[55] L. L. Lumsden, "Rural Sanitation," U. S. Public Health Service.
Public Health Bulletin No. 94, Oct., 1918.
[56] See Dr. W. S. Rankin, "Report of Committee on Rural Health,"
Proceedings Second National Country Life Conference, p. 93.
[57] "An Adventure in Rural Health Service." Proceedings Second National
Country Life Conference, p. 47.
CHAPTER XIII
THE COMMUNITY'S PLAY AND RECREATION
The people of most rural communities have an unsatisfied desire for more
play, recreation, and sociable life. Opportunities for enjoyment seem
more available in the towns and cities and are therefore a leading cause
of the great exodus. Economic prosperity and good wages are not alone
sufficient to keep people on farms and in villages if their income will
not purchase the satisfactions they desire. To a certain extent many of
these advantages of the town and city can be brought to the rural
community, but only when country people come to appreciate and develop
those forms of play and recreation which are possible and adapted to
their conditions, and when they are willing to afford ample facilities
and opportunity for the play of their children, will the lure of the
city be checked. With such a changed attitude the rural community need
have no fear of the competition of the city. It may not be able to have
as fine commercial amusements, but it can have the best sort of play and
recreation at small cost, for which the cities incur large expense.
There is a peculiar need for a better understanding of the place of play
and recreation in the open country at the present time. Formerly large
families gave better opportunity for the children of one family to play
together, and there were more children of similar ages at the district
school of the neighborhood. To-day with farms farther apart and fewer
children, farm children do not have sufficient opportunity to play
together in groups. The better opportunity for group play and team
games is one of the advantages of the consolidated school which has been
too little appreciated.
We have seen that one of the obvious necessities for the economic
progress of agriculture is that its business be conducted on a
coöperative basis. The chief obstacle to coöperation is the
individualism of the farmer. The training of boys and girls in team
games, in which they learn loyalty to the group and to subordinate
themselves to the winning of the team, will do much to change this
attitude. Boys who play baseball and basketball together, who are
associated in boy scouts and agricultural clubs, will be much quicker to
coöperate, for they grow up with an attitude of loyalty to the team
group as well as to their own family.
Again, the awkwardness and self-consciousness of the country youth in
comparison with his city cousin is due to no inherent inferiority, for
in a few years he often out-strips him, but it is the direct result of
his lack of social contacts. Personality develops through social life,
through the give and take of one personality with another, through
imitation, and the acquirement of a natural ease of association with
others. The country boy and girl who has had the advantage of
association with larger groups in the consolidated school or high school
tends to become quite the social equal of the city child.
Heretofore many people, and particularly farm people, have regarded play
and recreation for adults as more or less frivolous or unnecessary,
while for children play has been used as an award for good conduct or
hard work, but it has by no means been deemed a necessary phase of the
child's life. If Johnnie does all his chores or if Mary washes the
dishes and dusts the furniture faithfully, the opportunity for play is
held up as a reward for services rendered; but that time for play and
proper kinds of play are essential for a child's education has only
recently been established by the students of child psychology and is
not, as yet, generally appreciated either by parents or teachers.
It is often said that this is the "age of the child," in that our
civilization is more largely shaped by a desire to give our children the
best possible advantages. We have come to appreciate, thanks to the
insight of such philosophers as John Fiske,[58] that the advancement of
the human race has been very largely due to the prolongation of the
period of infancy. Ordinarily we think of play as an attribute of
childhood, but as an incident rather than as a fundamental reason for
the prolongation of childhood. Most modern students of child psychology,
however, will take the view of Karl Gross,[59] an authority on the play
of man and animals, who says: "Children do not play because they are
young; they are young in order that they may play." Play is a normal
process of the child's growth through spontaneous activity. Joseph Lee,
the president of the Playground and Recreation Association of America,
goes so far as to say: "Play is thus the essential part of education. It
is nature's prescribed course. School is invaluable in forming the child
to meet actual social opportunities and conditions. Without the school,
he will not grow up to fit our institutions. Without play he will not
grow up at all.[60]
I do not mean that a child should have no responsibilities, for that is
the misfortune of the city child, but it is important to recognize the
truth of old adage that "all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy,"
which modern psychology has given a scientific basis. One of the most
fundamental needs for the promotion of play in rural communities is to
secure a new attitude toward it on the part of many parents. Too
frequently--and alas, often from necessity--children are compelled to do
too much farm labor. Agriculture is still a family industry, and very
often on the poorer farms the older children seem to be considered
chiefly as an economic asset. Overwork and little or no time to satisfy
the innate tendency of children to play, inevitably produces a dislike
of farm life and is one of the most obvious reasons why many of them
leave the farm as soon as possible.
Many parents have forgotten how to play and have lost the "feel" of it.
It is important for them to play themselves in order to appreciate the
needs of their children, and to have a real sympathy with them. Picnics,
play festivals, and sociables, at which every one is compelled to "get
into the game," are valuable for this purpose. Many a man recovers his
youth in a picnic baseball game. Others have never had much play in
their own lives and do not appreciate its value for the best development
of their children. Play festivals or demonstrations and local athletic
meets in which their children participate may appeal to their parental
pride. Furthermore, when such play days are community affairs, they give
the sanction of public opinion to the games played and to those
participating in them. The play idea is popularized.
_Play in the Home._--Although the small family does not furnish
opportunity for group games, which are necessary for the satisfaction
both of children and adults, yet the movement for better play facilities
for the community should not overlook the fact that the home is the
fundamental social institution of rural life and that play and
recreation in the home are essential to its success and happiness. Home
games bind the family together, and parents who play with their
children find it much easier to secure and maintain their confidence.
The community may well give attention to the encouragement of games and
play in the homes as well as in the community gatherings. We need a
definite movement on the part of pastors, teachers, and especially by
such organizations as granges and farm and home bureaus for the
promotion of play by young and old in the farm home.
_Influence of the Automobile._--One of the values of the automobile is
that by its use many a farmer has been given a new realization of the
value of recreation. The new desire for recreation thus created is a
great gain for farm life. There is no reason why the farmer and his
family should not have as much enjoyment of life as town and city
people, and if they cannot, then only the poorer class of people will
remain on the farms. Occasionally one hears a commercial salesman or
some city business man decrying the effect of automobiles on farmers,
claiming that they are neglecting their work while chasing around the
country having a good time. Doubtless in occasional instances this is as
true of the farmer as it is of the townsman, but such farmers will soon
come to their senses or get off the farm, and even were there a general
tendency of this sort in some communities it must be regarded as the
temporary excitement of a new experience. On the other hand, the
breaking down of the old stolidity which dominated many a farmer who had
become so accustomed to work day in and day out that he was hardly happy
when he had a chance for recreation, and the creation of a wholesome
desire for a larger experience and more association with others, is one
of the largest gains in country life and will not only raise the
standards of living, but will be a potent incentive for better
agricultural methods. There can be no progress without a certain amount
of dissatisfaction. Contentedness has its virtues, but it may
degenerate into inertia and the death of all desire for better life.
On the other hand, the automobile and trolley have made it possible for
farm people to easily reach the towns and there attend movies and other
commercial amusements and to take part in the social life of the town
and city. This may weaken the social life of the rural community, and it
also tends to make rural people imitate the forms of play, recreation,
and social life of the city, which are not necessarily best suited to
rural life. When rural people come to appreciate that those forms of
play and recreation which are native or are adapted to the country have
many advantages over those of their city cousins, and in many ways may
have higher values and satisfactions, they will give more heed to
developing those which are most suitable for their enjoyment. Because
various kinds of expensive play apparatus are desirable for the small
playground of the city, which is crowded with hundreds of children, is
no reason why similar apparatus should be thought necessary for the
school-yard of the rural school. Many of the present tendencies of
recreation in cities are but revivals of rural customs which are
receiving new recognition because they appeal to that which is innate in
human nature. What is community singing but a variation of the
old-fashioned singing school? Folk-dancing originated in the country as
an expression of the activities of every-day life, and should be
encouraged everywhere. Dramatics and pageantry are native to the
countryside. The fair and festival are rural institutions.
_Commercial Amusements; Moving Pictures._--A certain form of recreation
may be secured through amusements which involve mere passive
participation upon the part of the spectators, as in various
entertainments, dramatics, etc. As long as those giving the
entertainment are local people, friends or relatives, the audience takes
a more or less sympathetic part in the performance and is not actuated
solely by the desire to purchase pleasurable sensations as is the case
with commercial amusements. I mean by commercial amusements those which
are operated solely for profit, whose advantages the individual
purchases for his own pleasure rather than with any idea of
participating in a group activity. Commercial amusements have their
place and may be of great benefit, but they are largely an
individualistic form of enjoyment and tend to make the spectator
increasingly dependent upon passive pleasurable sensations, and do not
have the social value of those forms of play in which one actively
participates as a member of a group.
Although commercial amusements have these limitations, yet they have
very real values which might be secured for many rural communities if
they were operated on a coöperative basis by the people themselves
rather than merely for profit by an individual. Motion pictures are now
the most popular form of commercial amusement and have unlimited
possibilities when operated for the good of the community rather than
for profit alone. It is now possible to secure relatively cheap
projection outfits and electric plants, so that many small communities
are now operating their own motion picture shows. In many places this is
one of the leading attractions at the community building and is a source
of revenue for its maintenance. In such places the motion picture
entertainment is becoming a sort of family affair, and when it can be so
operated as to secure the attendance of the family as a group the
objectionable features will soon disappear. Indeed, there is a
well-organized effort on the part of certain motion picture firms to
supply films for just this type of entertainments. Moreover, the
picture show may possibly be supplemented with other features which will
make a more attractive evening's entertainment, especially in small
places where it is practicable to operate but one show during an
evening. During the war community singing was tried at the opening and
between reels in many movie houses with conspicuous success, and should
be encouraged wherever suitable leadership can be secured. The speeches
of the "four-minute" men were also an innovation which might well be
tried further in a modified form. Would not a four-minute speech on some
current topic by a live speaker, given in an uncontroversial manner, be
a welcome feature of the movie show between reels, and an effective
means of educating public opinion? The community orchestra or community
band might well receive encouragement and financial aid by occasional
programs at the community movies.
_Dramatics and Pageantry._--In the last few years amateur dramatics have
become increasingly popular in rural communities. The "little country
theater" idea has caught the attention of rural people, and seems
destined in one form or another to become a rural institution. Amateur
dramatics are one of the most enjoyable and wholesome forms of
recreation. The actors not only have a deal of fun as well as hard work,
but real acting involves putting one's self into the part and gaining an
understanding of various types of people and social situations which is
a most liberal education. The audience, on the other hand, takes a
particular interest in the acting of its children, friends, and
relatives, and it enters into the spirit of the play much more fully
than when seeing professional actors. The amateur dramatic club tends to
become a community organization in which the people have a real pride
and for which they develop a loyalty which affords it a peculiar
opportunity and responsibility for portraying various problems and
phases of life, giving not only enjoyment but a finer and deeper
appreciation of human relationships.
For special occasions the historical pageant is not only a most
delightful entertainment but is one of the best means of arousing
community pride and spirit. The pageant grips both actors and audience
with a common loyalty to their forefathers. Such an historical picture
of the development of a community brings to its people an appreciation
of their common heritage and they come to a new realization of their
present comforts and their responsibility for the community's future.
All sorts and conditions of people will work together in a pageant and
enjoy the association. Any rural community which really makes up its
mind to do so can produce an historical pageant of its own, which will
give new meaning and inspiration to the common life.[61]
_Play in the School._--The school is commencing to realize the
importance of play as a phase of education, but in many cases the
one-room country school has too few children of the same age to make it
possible for them to play together with much satisfaction. School
consolidation is essential for better play. The grounds of most one-room
schools are ill-adapted to play and it is not always practicable to have
sufficient land attached to them for a suitable playground. It has been
assumed that children know how to play, but such is by no means always
the case. They have the desire to play, but if they have not had
opportunity to play with others, the forms of their play may be very
limited. Herein is the opportunity for supervision by the teacher, who
may teach them new plays and games, may uphold the code of play, and may
see that all have opportunity to participate. Obviously the teachers
themselves need training for this which they have not had in the past.
New York State has provided that any school district or combination of
several school districts may employ a supervisor of physical training,
towards whose salary the state will contribute half up to $600 per
annum, who will assist the teachers in developing physical training and
play in their schools. Similar plans are being adopted in other states.
Maryland has a state-wide athletic league organized by counties. The
children of each school are given physical tests, and recognition by
buttons and medals is given for the attainment of definite standards of
physical development and prowess, graduated according to age and sex.
Athletic meets are held by the schools of each county, and the winners
then compete in a state-wide meet.[62]
In many parts of the country the schools of a community, township, or
county are now holding play days or play festivals, with which is
usually a picnic, at which children and parents from the whole
countryside get together for a day of real recreation, and which have a
large influence in winning the support of their patrons for the play
activities fostered by the schools.[63]
_Boys' and Girls' Organizations._--Probably a larger impetus to the best
types of play for country boys and girls has been given by such
organizations as the Young Men's Christian Association, the Young
Women's Christian Association, the Boy Scouts, the Girl Scouts, the
Camp Fire Girls, and the Boys' and Girls' Clubs fostered by the
extension departments of the state agricultural colleges and the U. S.
Department of Agriculture, than by any other agencies. Each of these
organizations has a program of children's activities involving both
recreation and education, as well as a definite effort for character
building. They are invaluable allies of the home, the school, and the
church, for they are the boys' and girls' own organizations and meet
their desire for group activities. Just which one or how many of them
are needed in any one community is a local problem, and it is
impracticable to here attempt any evaluation of their particular
advantages. Suffice it to say that every rural community which can find
suitable leadership should have such an organization of boys or girls,
and will find the assistance of the state and national headquarters of
these movements of the greatest help in the development of a local
program of play and recreation.[64]
_The Church and Play._--We have already noted (page 133) a changing
attitude on the part of the rural church toward play and recreation.[65]
In the past it has too often been simply a negative condemnation of the
so-called "worldly amusements," with no effort to understand the normal
cravings of human nature which they satisfy or to furnish any
satisfactory substitute for them. It is true that socials of the older
classes in the Sunday school and of the young people's societies have
done much for the sociable life of the country, but very often they have
failed to interest those who would be most benefited by them. Recently,
however, church leaders are actively encouraging rural churches to
develop such programs of play and recreation as may be necessary to meet
the needs of their communities. The Sunday schools are organizing
baseball teams and baseball leagues, and are promoting "through-the-week"
activities of organized classes. A majority of the troops of Boy Scouts
are affiliated with churches, and scouting is becoming a recognized means
for the direction of the church's recreational work for boys.
Just how far the rural church should go in affording facilities for play
and recreation, is a local problem and it is difficult to generalize as
to the duty of the church in this field. If there is but one church in
the community, or there is a community church, and other agencies are
lacking, it may be highly desirable for the church which has suitable
rooms to equip one as a play room, or to establish a play ground for the
children, or to organize a dramatic club. But where there is more than
one church in a community, it is obviously difficult to organize
recreational work on sectarian lines. In some instances the churches are
pooling their interests in the support of a common recreational program.
Some of those who most keenly feel the responsibility for the leadership
of the church in this field, even go so far as to claim that on account
of the moral values involved in the play of its people, play and
recreation should be chiefly directed by and centered in the church.
There is no question but that the church which does not give attention
to this aspect of life and does not have some recreational and social
features among its activities will fail to meet the needs of its people,
but whether the church can compete with the school, the community
building, and independent social organizations, or whether it should
seek to do so, is hardly a debatable question. The play and recreational
life of most rural communities inevitably crosses church lines, and it
is well for the community that it does. People may differ on religion
and yet enjoy playing together. So the church may lead and promote
better means for play and recreation, but whenever it attempts
domination or control it will prejudice its position and will be unable
to accomplish its objective.
_Community Buildings._--The larger appreciation of the importance of
play and recreation in rural life has brought attention to the lack of
physical equipment. Every rural community needs a playground large
enough to include a good baseball diamond and a basketball court, and a
building where indoor sports, gymnasium work and basketball games can be
held.
On account of the lack of such facilities many cities have bought
playgrounds upon which have been erected special buildings containing
gymnasiums, game and club rooms, and often a branch library, which have
become known as "social centers." The "social center idea" has spread to
the country, for which various forms of social centers have been
advocated. Any building which is available for such purposes to the
whole community--the school, church, or grange hall--may become a social
center if suitable arrangements are made for its operation as such. The
U. S. Bureau of Education has urged that every school shall be made a
social center, and as far as this is possible, it is most desirable.
What can be accomplished through the country school is well shown in the
work of Mrs. Marie Turner Harvey in the Porter School at Kirksville,
Missouri.[66] But the district school will, at best, be only the social
center of a neighborhood, and in many cases its district is too small
for successful play or social life. Furthermore, the average one-room
school is ill-adapted in architecture or equipment for social purposes.
The consolidated school or village high school may well be made a social
center as far as it is possible for it to so function and new schools
should be, and are being, constructed with this in view. The school
building and the school playground are naturally the best places for
centering the play activities of the children, especially where physical
training or play supervisors are employed by the schools. It is a
question, however, whether those over school age will use the school for
social purposes as freely as some other building, unless the general
policy and management of the use of the building for community purposes
is in the hands of a community organization formed for that purpose.
Where there is but one church in a community, which is practically a
community church, the church building or church house may be utilized as
a social center, and the erection of community buildings by such
churches is now being advocated. In some cases such a community building
attached to a church may be a means of meeting the need; but in other
communities affiliation with the church may not be advantageous. Where
there is more than one church, the churches may join in the operation of
a community building, but in that case all of the churches must be
included or it will not have the support of the whole community--it will
not be a real _community_ building.
Many grange buildings are now used but once in a fortnight or so for
grange meetings, and remain idle the rest of the time. May it not be
possible to devise some equitable and satisfactory arrangement whereby
they may be made available for the constant use of all the people as
community buildings and still reserve them to the grange for its use at
such times as it desires? The average rural community cannot afford to
tie up so much capital in buildings which are so infrequently used.
In any event, the auspices under which a community building is to be
operated and the possibility of securing the united support of the whole
community for it are essential if it is to be permanently successful as
a "community home."
Because of the limitations of school, church, and grange hall, many
communities are now planning to erect "community buildings"[67] in which
all the "leisure-time activities" of the whole community may be
centered. The community building will usually include an auditorium with
stage for entertainments and dramatics, which is often used for a
gymnasium or basketball, a kitchen and dining room, a game room,
possibly a library room, and such other features as may be practicable.
In older communities there are often more buildings than are being used.
Unused churches may well be converted to community buildings with
relatively small expense. The advent of prohibition and good roads has
driven many village hotels out of business and their buildings are in
some cases suitable for conversion into community buildings and may be
purchased at much below cost. Some sort of organization must be the
owner of a community building and assure its support, and it would seem
that if the building is to be truly a community affair it should be
operated by the community as such. In some states legislation has been
passed permitting the township, or any voluntary tax district, to erect
and operate a community building, and many such buildings are in
successful operation. In other cases, it will be desirable to form some
sort of community organization, which is open to all members of the
community and which represents all of the organizations and interests
which may use the building, for its erection and control.
Thus rural play and recreation which formerly centered in the
neighborhood, is now being organized on a community basis, and the
increased interest in adequate facilities for play and recreation is, in
last analysis, an effort of the rural community to defend its integrity
against the lure of its people by the city. Just as in their economic
life and in their educational system rural people are compelled to act
together as a community if they are to compete with the advancing
standards of the city, so play and recreation is also becoming a concern
of the whole community.
FOOTNOTES:
[58] See his "The Meaning of Infancy."
[59] "The Play of Man." Translated by Elizabeth L. Baldwin. New York,
1901.
[60] "Play in Education."
[61] See Abigail F. Halsey, The Historical Pageant in the Rural
Community. N. Y. State College of Agriculture, Cornell Extension
Bulletin, 54. June, 1922.
[62] See Official Handbook of the Public Athletic League, Baltimore, Md.
Edited by William Burdick, M.D. Spalding Athletic Library, New York,
American Sports Publishing Co.
[63] See Galpin and Weisman, "Play Days in Rural Schools," Circular 118,
Exten. Div. of the College of Agr., Univ. of Wisconsin, Madison.
[64] National headquarters are as follows: Y. M. C. A., County Work, 347
Madison Ave., New York; Y. W. C. A., Country Dept., 600 Lexington Ave.,
New York; Boy Scouts of America, Fifth Ave. Bldg., New York; Girl
Scouts, Inc., 189 Lexington Ave., New York; The Camp Fire Girls of
America, 128 E. 28th St., New York; Boys' and Girls' Club Work (in
agriculture and home economics), States Relations Service, U. S. Dept.
of Agriculture, Washington, D. C., or the extension department of any
state agricultural college.
[65] The best discussion of this topic is Henry A. Atkinson's "The
Church and the Peoples Play." Boston, Pilgrim Press, 1915.
[66] See Evelyn Dewey, "New Schools for Old." New York.
[67] See Farmers' Bulletins 825, 1173 and 1192, U. S. Department of
Agriculture, by W. C. Nason, on Rural Community Buildings.
CHAPTER XIV
ORGANIZATIONS OF THE RURAL COMMUNITY
Throughout most of the United States the farmer's sense of belonging to
a community is rather vague. The villager has a definite idea of the
village because it has a boundary, he can see it, and in many cases it
is incorporated; but in most cases, outside of New England at least, the
villager and the farmer have not thought of themselves as belonging to
the same community. Farmers do, however, belong to many organizations
which meet in the village and more and more farmer and villager mingle
in the associations devoted to various special interests. The farmer's
loyalty has, therefore, been primarily to organizations rather than to
the community as such, but as these different organizations have
multiplied he has become increasingly aware that most of them, each in
its own field, are devoted to the interests of the common good. Through
the common interests of organizations in the life of all the people is
arising a new conception of the community. As Professor E. C. Lindeman
has well pointed out,[68] at the present time the community is more an
association of groups than of individuals, and it is these groups and
organizations which largely control community action. If we are to
understand the relation of the farmer to his community, we can do so
only by knowing the organizations and groups to which he belongs, for it
is in them and through them that his loyalty to the community arises.
_The Grange._--By all odds the strongest local organization of farmers
throughout the northern and western states is the Grange, which is the
local unit of the Order of Patrons of Husbandry. For half a century,
from the time of its organization in 1868 until 1920, it had a larger
influence upon national legislation than any other organization of
farmers, and it was largely through its efforts that many of the more
important acts for the benefit of agriculture were passed by
Congress.[69] The growth in membership and number of local granges in
recent years testifies that the grange meets a real need in farm life.
Its maximum membership was in 1875 when 858,050 members were paying dues
to the National Grange. From then it declined to 106,782 members in
1889, but in the next thirty years it grew to approximately 700,000
members in 1919. State Granges are now organized in thirty-three states
and there are approximately 8,000 local or subordinate granges. In the
earlier years of its history there were many granges in the South, but
since the decline in the '80's there have been practically no granges
south of Virginia and Missouri.
Although the Grange is a secret order or fraternity, with a ritual
similar to other fraternal orders, its membership is open to any one of
good character, and the local granges frequently hold "open" meetings to
which all the people of the community are invited. The strength of the
Grange as a community organization is largely due to two factors: first,
its broad program, and second, that it is a family organization. Both
men and women are admitted to membership and in several states junior
granges for the older children are numerous. Although the grange
actively supports state and national legislation for the benefit of
agriculture, it is strictly non-partisan in politics and is
non-sectarian with regard to religion. In the earlier years it undertook
to operate numerous coöperative enterprises, including many coöperative
stores, and it was the failure of many of these which caused its sudden
decline of membership in the late '70's. In recent years, although it
has vigorously sponsored coöperation, it has favored independent
coöperative organizations, having no organic connection with the grange,
with the exception of grange insurance companies whose advantages are
usually limited to grange members.
Possibly the greatest service of the Grange is its educational and
social work. The "lecturer's hour" is a feature of every meeting, and in
this hour a program planned by the lecturer is given by members of the
grange, or outside speakers are invited to address it on topics of
interest. These programs include both discussion of educational topics
having to do with all phases of agriculture, home life, and civic
affairs, but also music, recitations and other entertaining features.
Special social evenings and suppers are held at frequent intervals and
the young people often enjoy an informal dance after the regular grange
meeting. The local grange, more than any other organization, provides a
forum for the discussion of the problems of agriculture and country
life, and is thus a powerful agency for the creation of public opinion
on any matters of community concern. The management of its business and
the participation in the lecturer's programs furnish the best
opportunity for the development of leadership and for training in public
speaking, so that the local Grange has been the means of discovering and
training much of our best rural leadership.
For many years the attention of the Grange seemed to be directed chiefly
toward the support of needed national legislation, but recently grange
leaders have perceived that, like all such organizations, its permanent
strength and influence depend more largely on the degree to which the
local grange is a vital force in the life of its members and of its
community. In a recent article on "The Future of the Grange," S. J.
Lowell, Master of the National Grange, ably voices this point of view:
"The farm people of America are better informed on all the
great questions of the day; are pursuing better agricultural
methods; are demanding better roads, better schools, better
churches; are doing more effective teamwork for
forward-looking projects; and in consequence are more
valuable men and women and citizens because of the Grange
influence of the past and its presence in their life to-day.
Remove the Grange from America and there would be taken out
of our progress of a half century one of the largest
contributing factors.
"It will be setting up a declaration contrary to the belief
of some that exerting legislative influence, important as it
is, is not the most valuable function of the Grange; that
its coöperative activities, however they may have
flourished, will not loom largest in the grange program of
the future; that not even its efforts for state and national
reform will be recorded as its greatest service to its day
and generation. Rather we must estimate the Grange value of
the future by its quiet, steady, unfaltering efforts,
continued year after year, in thousands of local
communities--many of them far removed from the busy
activities of men--to bring the rural people together, to
teach them the fundamentals of coöperation, of efficiency,
of teamwork, of practical educational progress, and of the
value of a forward-looking rural program, into whose
accomplishments all the people of a locality may
conscientiously enter.... This view of Grange service to
rural America is apparent in the extent to which the
community-betterment program has been taken up by
subordinate granges in nearly every state. Though a secret
organization--a fraternity in fact as well as in name--the
Grange is more and more making of itself an overflowing
institution, seeking to render actual benefits to its
immediate home locality. Hundreds of live Granges this year
are carrying out some form of community improvement along a
great variety of directions."[70]
He then goes on to give a brief glimpse of the variety of these
community enterprises. In Massachusetts the State Grange has for several
years had a committee which awards annual prizes for the best community
improvement work done by the local granges, and this has stimulated a
lively interest in community activities.
Although the Grange is primarily a farmers' organization, yet where the
local grange meets in the village, and particularly in the older states,
a considerable number of the members are village people, so that the
Grange represents the life of the whole community. On the other hand, in
many neighborhoods which are at some distance from a village center, the
Grange hall may be located in the open country, its membership is
composed wholly of farmers, and it is solely a class organization. No
studies are available to show the proportion of Granges which meet in
villages or in the open country and the effect which this has upon the
relation of the Grange to the community, but it may be safely asserted
that, as is the case with the church and the school, the Grange tends to
meet in village centers as a matter of convenience to the largest number
of its members, and that, as indicated by Mr. Lowell, it is coming to
recognize its responsibility for the general improvement of the
community as a whole.
_Other Farmers' Organizations._--Throughout the South and in Kansas and
Nebraska the Farmers' Educational and Coöperative Union is the leading
farmers' organization, but it is chiefly devoted to coöperative business
enterprises and does but little for the education or social life of its
members, who are usually all men. The same may be said of the Society of
Equity, which is strongest in Wisconsin, Kentucky, and South Dakota. In
Michigan, although the Grange is strong, the Gleaners have a
considerable membership.
In many states, particularly where the grange is not well established,
farmers' clubs have been organized. In some cases local conditions make
clubs feasible where it would be difficult to enlist a large enough part
of the community to make a grange equally successful. In some cases such
clubs are open to farmers only; in others they include the whole family;
while in recent years many farm women's clubs have been organized.
Whether such clubs should be for the whole family, or for men or women
only, is largely a local question depending upon the social usages and
homogeneity of the population. In Wisconsin and Minnesota family clubs
have been most successful. It is doubtful whether this would be equally
true in the South. In the South such local clubs have been the local
units of the extension work in agriculture and home economics. Where for
any reason it is not possible to include the whole community in a club,
several clubs may be organized, each including a congenial membership,
as is now the case with women's clubs in cities, and these may then be
federated for community purposes.
_Lodges._--In most rural villages will be found one or more lodges of
fraternal orders, such as the Masons, Odd Fellows, Knights of Pythias,
Maccabees, etc., with the corresponding orders of women's auxiliaries.
The place and influence of lodges in the life of the rural community
have been strangely neglected by students of country life, and we have
no means of evaluating their place in the rural community. Not
infrequently the regular meetings and special parties and banquets held
by these orders form a large part of the social life of the village. In
other cases the meetings are but poorly attended and the lodge is
maintained chiefly for its insurance benefits. In some of the larger
villages and towns the larger and more prosperous lodges have game rooms
and reading rooms attached to their halls, so that they serve as club
rooms for their membership. Usually the membership is more largely
composed of village people, but a considerable number of farmers
maintain their membership, even though they do not attend regularly, and
in exceptional cases the membership is largely composed of farm people.
It is obvious that the lodge as a secret order is devoted to the
interests of its own membership and usually it has no definite program
of work for the benefit of the whole community. Yet it must be
recognized that the assistance rendered by the lodge to its members in
sickness and to their families when in distress of any kind, is a
considerable asset to the welfare of the community and is a powerful
influence in promoting that spirit of brotherhood upon which all
community life depends. Usually the lodges actively support and
participate in any community activities in which they may appropriately
take part, such as Memorial Day or Fourth of July celebrations,
community Christmas trees and other festival occasions. The churches, or
at least the ministers, sometimes feel that the social life of the
lodges absorbs so much of the time and interest of their members as to
prevent their activity in church work, which attitude has often obtained
between the church and Grange, but it is a question whether this is not
often due to the failure of the church to provide such activities as
will command the loyalty of the people, and, on the other hand, not
infrequently the leaders in lodge work are also most active in the
churches. To the extent that the lodges seem self-centered and make no
direct contribution to community improvement, this is doubtless due to
the lack of any means whereby their support may be enlisted in a program
of community betterment. The place of the lodge in the community is much
like that of a fraternity in a college or university; its primary
obligation is to its own membership, but when enlisted in any activity
for the common welfare it furnishes one of the best means for developing
the community spirit of its members, and its participation is a means of
strengthening its own organization.
_The Village Band._--A good village band is one of the most effective
agencies for promoting community spirit and sociability. The village
merchants have also found that it is an economic asset, and in many
country towns they contribute liberally for its support. A band concert
every Saturday night, or twice a week, never fails to bring a crowd of
people to town and it is a common sight to see the streets lined with
automobiles of farm people who have come in to enjoy the concert and
incidentally to do a little shopping and chat with each other and their
village friends. Although it may be called by the name of the village,
it is usually a community band, for farm boys who can play an instrument
are always welcome and frequently form a considerable part of the
membership. The community comes to have a real pride in even a
moderately good band, and on holiday celebrations and other festival
occasions it is an invaluable asset to community spirit. A crowd will
always follow a band, for it exercises a sort of group leadership for
which there seems to be no substitute.
In one small town in central New York the high school operates a moving
picture show every Saturday evening, which is preceded by a band concert
and part of the profits of the show goes to the support of the band.
Thus the community finances and controls its own entertainment. Another
small village in western New York had a fairly good band which had been
playing in neighboring villages as the only means of securing an income,
and was thus drawing trade of farmers from its own village to those
where it played. The first enterprise of the community council which was
formed there was to build a band stand and to see that the band was
financed so that it played every Saturday night in the home town. In
another case a community council was formed for the primary purpose of
bringing the support of the whole community to a fine band which had
struggled along for several years with little local appreciation.
Community orchestras are of equal value for indoor entertainments and
give opportunity for the talent of the young women as well as the men.
The community chorus or choral club has often taken the place of the
old-fashioned singing school. If a good director can be secured he will
always discover more vocal ability than has been suspected, and the
people of many a rural community have been surprised at the musical
works they have been able to produce under competent leadership.
The amount of music in a community and the public interest in its
musical entertainments are among the most significant indices of its
general culture and progressiveness. Where there is music there is life.
_The Fire Company._--One of the "most ancient and honorable" of the
organizations of the village is the volunteer fire company. The fire
company makes an appeal to the spirit of adventure and heroism common to
all red-blooded young men and furnishes something of Professor William
James' "moral equivalent of war." Its drills, exhibits and competitions
develop the finest type of team work among its members, while its
parties, festivals and entertainments for raising money are always
occasions of note in the social calendar of the community. In the older
parts of the country the firemen very frequently have a building with
clubrooms on the second floor, which form a rendezvous for its members.
Not infrequently many of the nearby farm boys belong to the fire company
and pay their dues for its support so that they may enjoy its social
advantages, although they may rarely have opportunity to do much actual
fire-fighting. In several cases community houses have been built with
one corner of the first floor constructed to house the fire equipment.
In one village I found that the fire company had taken over an old hall,
where it had clubrooms and was holding moving picture entertainments
every Saturday evening to finance the building.
_The Women's Christian Temperance Union_ is by all odds the strongest
non-sectarian organization of women in the rural communities of the
United States. In the past it has been chiefly a reform organization and
its persistent agitation was a large factor in the enactment of the
Eighteenth Amendment to the federal constitution making prohibition
national. Although prohibition is, as yet, by no means achieved, and
there is still need of upholding and encouraging those charged with its
enforcement, yet the primary purpose of the organization seems to be
largely realized. In the past it has been chiefly a militant
organization, although it has taken an active interest in problems of
child welfare, education, recreation, social hygiene, and similar topics
affecting home life. Its public speaking contests, picnics, suppers, and
sociables have done much for the social life of many a rural community.
If the fighting spirit of the past can be enlisted in a well-rounded
program for social welfare in every community where there is a Union,
this organization will continue to be a powerful factor in uniting the
women in many a rural community.
_The Cemetery Association._--Finally, the influence of the Cemetery
Association as a community organization, should not be overlooked. The
"Friendship Village Married Ladies' Cemetery Improvement Sodality,"
which Miss Gale has made famous in her delightful stories of village
life,[71] well illustrates the influences which have been started by
many a cemetery association. Not infrequently the one thing which
evinces some civic pride in an otherwise stagnant community is its
well-kept cemetery. The condition of the cemetery is a good index of
community spirit. When people neglect the resting place of their dead
they are not apt to do much for the living. But once arouse a feeling of
shame for such neglect and the effort to clean up and beautify the
cemetery has often brought all elements of the community into a common
loyalty as nothing else could do, and the satisfaction from such an
achievement may sufficiently stir community pride as to encourage other
enterprises.
The cemetery itself has a not inconsiderable influence in bringing about
the integration of the rural community. In early days every farm had its
own burying lot. Nothing is more pathetic than the abandoned burying
lots--often two or three of them--on many a New England farm. In many
cases rural neighborhoods have had a local cemetery by the country
church or district school. These, too, are increasingly neglected. On
the other hand the village cemetery is more largely used merely because
more assurance is felt in its permanent maintenance. It needs no
argument from history or from the customs of other lands, to show that
the people who bury their dead in the same place are bound together by
the most sacred ties, and that the cemetery which serves the whole
community is one of its primary bonds.
FOOTNOTES:
[68] "The Community," p. 119. New York, Association Press. 1921.
[69] See T. C. Atkeson, "Semi-centennial History of the Grange." New
York. Orange Judd Co.
[70] In "The Country Gentleman." Oct. 8, 1921, p. 17.
[71] Zona Gale, "Friendship Village"; "Friendship Village Love Stories";
"Peace in Friendship Village." New York. Macmillan Co.
CHAPTER XV
THE COMMUNITY'S DEPENDENT
The neighborliness and hospitality of farmers is proverbial in every
land and clime. Throughout much of the old world where farmers still
live in village communities the poverty or distress of any family is at
once apparent and the more fortunate members of the village in one way
or another give such assistance as is possible. The more primitive the
people the more binding is this obligation for mutual aid, and one
cannot but feel that our so-called advanced civilization has failed to
develop as keen a sense of responsibility for the unfortunate. In rural
America this is possibly due to the fact that our farms are scattered
and the condition of needy families may not be noticed. The average
rural community will usually inform an inquirer that it has practically
no poverty and no need of a social worker. Yet investigation will almost
always show that tucked away in some hollow, back on some hill, or even
huddled near the outskirts of the village are a few unfortunate
families, of whose needs the community is unaware. These families, for
one reason or another are "disadvantaged," they do not commonly
associate with others, they may be foreigners, or in some way they are
"queer" and are more or less avoided, or possibly they are merely
isolated and so are unknown. From the standpoint of the social welfare
of the community such families, or individuals, have been called the
"unadjusted"; they do not mix freely and are not up to the local
standards of life. In short, such families or individuals are abnormal,
and are a social liability of the community.
These "disadvantaged" or "unadjusted" people may be roughly grouped into
four classes: the dependent, the defective, the delinquent, and the
neglected. In one sense they may all be called the "community's
dependent," for they all require some sort of assistance from the
community if their relationship to it is to be satisfactorily adjusted.
_Poverty._--In a narrower sense the "dependent" are the poor; those who
are unable to support themselves and who must be aided by the community
if they are to exist. If this condition becomes chronic they are
paupers; but in most cases their dependency is temporary and has been
due to some unusual drain on the family's resources, such as, sickness,
fire, crop failure, or inability to secure employment. There is a very
natural aversion on the part of the latter class against becoming
stigmatized as paupers and of having to secure public relief, of "being
on the town"; whereas the habitual dependents have frequently lost all
pride in their social status and are quite willing to continue to
receive all the help they can secure. In both cases, if assistance is to
be of permanent value, the problem is not only that of furnishing
immediate relief in the form of food, clothing, or shelter, but of
ascertaining the causes of the dependency and giving such assistance and
sympathetic encouragement as will enable the family or individual to
again become self-supporting and regain a normal status in the
community. Obviously this is a delicate task which requires the best
knowledge of human nature as well as genuine sympathy which will inspire
confidence and faith, and in so far as possible is likely to be more
effective if it can be done privately. On the other hand, a large
proportion of the chronic dependency also involves mental or physical
defectiveness or moral delinquency which cannot be remedied by the mere
giving of alms. Much of the poor relief given by rural communities is
practically wasted because of a failure to ascertain the real cause of
poverty or by lack of knowledge or means for its treatment.
_Defectives._--In most cases the care of "defectives" cannot be
undertaken by the rural community itself, because they usually require
the care of institutions which can only be supported by the county or
state. Furthermore, a family is usually able to take care of one of its
members who is so afflicted or will assume the burden of sending him to
an institution, so that only in the case of dependent families does the
responsibility rest on the community. There is, however, a duty on the
part of the community to see that the afflicted are given necessary
care, so that they may not have to go through life so handicapped that
they are unable to be self-supporting and thus may become wholly
dependent.
The physically defective are largely cared for by state and county
institutions. We have learned that the deaf and blind may become largely
self-supporting if given the advantages of a specific type of education,
for which the state maintains special schools. County and state
hospitals provide for the care of those afflicted with tuberculosis and
a beginning is being made in the provision of state hospitals for
crippled children where they may receive necessary surgical and
orthopedic treatment. Likewise the more helpless mental defectives, the
insane, the imbeciles and idiots, are cared for in state institutions.
One of the most serious menaces to the social health of the rural
community is from those mental defectives who are able to care for
themselves but who are mentally incapable of rearing a normal family and
of conforming to the customary standards of morality. These
"feeble-minded," are far too numerous in rural communities and their
proper care and education has been neglected because they have been
commonly regarded as merely "simple minded" or "foolish"; to be pitied,
and the subject of many a jest, but entirely harmless. A large number of
the feeble-minded are so nearly normal that they are considered merely
shiftless or stupid. Nearly every rural community has one or more
families, and not infrequently a small slum neighborhood, who are
ne'er-do-wells, more or less delinquent and frequently requiring aid
from the town. Thanks to modern psychology, we now know that many of
these adults have the intelligence of only a seven or nine-year-old
child and that they are incapable of further mental development.
Furthermore, carefully conducted studies in the heredity of these
families show that feeble-mindedness is congenital; that where both
parents are feeble-minded all the offspring will be so afflicted; and
that when one of the parents is sub-normal that some of the children
will be feeble-minded and that those who appear normal may transmit the
defect to their children. Psychological tests have now been developed so
that adults with a mentality of nine or ten years or less may be
definitely diagnosed as mentally deficient.
It must be obvious that an adult with fully developed sexual desires but
with the mind of a child is incapable of conforming his or her behavior
to the standards of society and will be incapable of giving proper
parental care to children. So a considerable percentage of our petty
criminals, vagrants, prostitutes, and dependent are found to be
feeble-minded. They are unstable, suggestible, easily victimized.
The farm and the village have a considerable amount of routine work
which can be done by these sub-normal people and they therefore have
opportunity to maintain themselves and to multiply to better advantage
than in the city where the competition of life is keener. Although they
are best off in a rural environment, when unrestricted and unsegregated
they are a constant menace to the community and often involve it in
considerable expense. As soon as farmers become aware of what the
feeble-minded are costing the community, how they endanger its moral and
physical health, and that when unrestricted they continue to reproduce
incapables and thus perpetuate the burden, they will demand that some
practicable and reasonable measures be taken for their control. The
difficulty is that at present in most states there is no method whereby
the feeble-minded can be committed to state institutions or be otherwise
segregated unless they are paupers or unless they go voluntarily, nor is
there any means of preventing their marriage and reproduction. Dairy
farmers have learned that it pays to weed out the "boarder" cows from
their herds and that if they breed from a scrub sire they will have
scrub stock; but if the boarder cow was also inclined to become vicious
and to corrupt the habits of the rest of the herd and the farmer knew
this trait to be hereditary, he would invariably send such a cow to the
butcher. I believe that as soon as farmers appreciate the biological
significance of feeble-mindedness they will insist upon reasonable
legislation for its control.
_Delinquency._--The third class of abnormal citizens are the
delinquents, both adult and juvenile. Almost every rural community has a
certain number of adults and children who, although not definitely
criminal, are constantly committing various misdemeanors, are vicious,
or incorrigible, and there are occasional rural communities and
neighborhoods which are as true slums as are found in the cities.[72]
Drunkenness was formerly the greatest cause of delinquency, and the
tavern and saloon were responsible for the prohibition movement whose
staunchest supporters were rural people. The bootlegger and the illicit
still continue the illegal traffic in liquor, but where prohibition has
been in force for some time liquor has ceased to be an important factor
in delinquency.
We have but few definite studies of delinquency in rural communities
upon which to base any generalizations. One of the best of these is a
study of the juvenile delinquents in 21 average rural communities in New
York state, made under the auspices of the U. S. Children's Bureau in
1917.[73] In these 21 communities 185 delinquent children were found, 41
of whom were classed as "incorrigible," 68 were involved in sex
offenses, and 75 had stolen, or were guilty of fraud. The number of boys
guilty of incorrigibility and theft exceeded that of the girls by six to
one, but among the older sex offenders 41 were girls and but 9 were
boys. This study is of particular value in showing that almost every
rural community, however prosperous and progressive it may be, has its
problem of delinquency, and in its analysis of the responsibility of the
home, the school, and the church, for wayward children.
_The Neglected._--The fourth class which require the care of the
community are the neglected. Although the aged occasionally require
neighborly assistance, even though they have means for their
necessities, most of the neglected are infants and children. Orphans and
foundlings for whom homes must be found, children who are over-worked or
abused, or who are living with dissolute parents, all of these must be
given proper guardianship and a chance for healthful growth and
education, or they are likely to become delinquent and thus become a
permanent liability to society. It is true that in the country the home
is at its best (see chapter II), but it is also unfortunately true that
some of the most shameful and almost unbelievable cases of neglect and
abuse of children are frequently found in out-of-the-way places in rural
communities. Where compulsory school attendance laws are strictly
enforced such cases may come to the attention of school officials, but
in many instances no one seems responsible for discovering neglected
children and ensuring their proper care. Most of the cities and larger
towns have Societies for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children whose
agents investigate rural cases reported to them and bring them to the
attention of the courts when necessary, but there is a need for some
local agency in every rural community which will see that neglect is
prevented or stopped.
_Agencies for Rural Social Work._--When we examine the means for dealing
with these "misfit" members of the rural community, we find that in most
of our states there are few agencies either public or private, and that
as a rule they are poorly adapted to render the service needed.
For the care of the poor there is the township or county poor officer,
and the county poor farm as a last resort. But the poor officer, however
upright and well-intentioned he may be, usually conceives his job as one
for doling out sufficient groceries, clothing, and fuel to keep a family
alive, and of keeping the cost to the taxpayer as low as possible. He
feels little responsibility for furnishing sufficient aid to give the
family a fair chance to get on its feet or for advising them or bringing
such influences into their lives as will ensure their rehabilitation. He
is charged with a most difficult task for which he has had no
experience or training, which he must handle with the greatest economy
and for which he receives little compensation either in salary or public
esteem. Very commonly his election is due to political strength rather
than special personal fitness. The case of the poor is commonly regarded
as a necessary evil to be handled with as little trouble as possible,
rather than as an opportunity to give such help to the unfortunate that
further assistance may be unnecessary and that they may become an asset
to the community.
Cases of delinquency involving only misdemeanors or minor offenses are
tried before a justice of the peace or local magistrate. Usually these
officials are men with no legal training and with little understanding
of the causes of delinquency or of how delinquents should be treated in
order to give them a fair chance to become normal citizens. The usual
attitude is one of determining the offense and meting out just
punishment for it. Furthermore, the local justice frequently avoids
handling a case which may involve him in difficulties with his
neighbors, unless he is forced to do so. Not infrequently juvenile
offenders are sent to reformatories where they come into contact with
worse characters and are hardened rather than reformed, whereas if they
had been placed on probation under proper supervision and under
satisfactory home conditions they might have lived decent lives.
In most of our cities juvenile cases are now handled in special juvenile
courts, which have shown the futility of the old methods of legal
procedure in the treatment of juvenile offenders. In this court the
judge is assisted by probation officers who are trained as social
workers and who investigate the home conditions and other influences
surrounding the child for the information of the judge, who then handles
the case in whatever manner seems best in order to get at the facts and
to bring the child to a real desire to "make good." The case is heard
privately, without the ordinary rules of legal procedure, and the whole
attitude of the court is more like that of a father than of the ordinary
judge who inflicts punishment according to the gravity of the offense.
It must be evident that one person handling numerous cases of this kind
will soon gain an experience with them which will enable him to act more
intelligently and with greater justice both to the offender and to the
interests of society than can be done by a local official who may have
but one or two such cases to handle during his whole term of office. In
several states legislation has been passed creating juvenile courts in
each county, which have jurisdiction over all juvenile cases and which
can deal not only with the children but also with their parents or
guardians. The general adoption of such a system seems to be the most
important step in the intelligent treatment of juvenile delinquents in
rural districts.
Very often the first waywardness of a child is in truancy from school,
which, if it cannot be handled by the teacher, is turned over to the
local truant officer. In many cases the truant officer is appointed
because of his availability for such work rather than his special
competency, and the enforcement of the truancy law is handled in a most
perfunctory manner, whereas an intelligent investigation of home
conditions and an effort to gain the coöperation of the parents and the
confidence and interest of the child are the only means of securing any
real reform. In several cities truancy is in charge of what are known as
"visiting teachers," who not only look after truants but visit the homes
of those children who are not doing well in their school work, in order
to determine whether home conditions are responsible and how they may be
improved. Usually the country school teacher is more in touch with the
homes of her pupils, but some of the more progressive rural counties are
providing an assistant to the county superintendent of schools, who acts
both in the capacity of truant officer and visiting teacher, assisting
the local teacher in the more difficult cases which require a
considerable amount of time to develop proper relations in the home. To
be of most service such a person should not only have experience in
school work but should have had the training of a social worker, so that
she may understand the best means of dealing with the wayward child and
with unfavorable home conditions. It seems probable that more may be
done toward the prevention of delinquency through such social workers
connected with the school system than by any other means.
In many states there seems to be no definite system for the supervision
of children for whom the state is responsible. They may be boarded or
adopted by families or placed in institutions by any one of several
local officials having jurisdiction, but none of them have the means of
determining whether the children are being properly cared for, nor does
the county or state provide any agency for this purpose. In several
states the registration and supervision of such wards of the state is
placed in the hands of a state child welfare board or a state department
of charities or public welfare, but in other states the supervision of
their welfare is wholly dependent upon private philanthropy. Experience
has shown that where a trained social worker is employed to look up the
relatives of such children and to assist in finding homes for them and
in visiting the homes and institutions to which they are committed, a
considerable saving in the cost of their maintenance to the county is
frequently effected. In order that all of the care of children may be
centralized under one county office which can employ competent persons
for its work, several states have created county boards of child welfare
which are charged with the whole responsibility for the care of
dependent and neglected children, which is then taken entirely out of
the hands of local officials. In a few states, county boards of public
welfare have been created which have supervision not only of children
but of all dependents, defectives, and neglected, and in some cases also
have charge of the public health administration. The centralization of
such authority in a county board which can employ executives who have
had special training and experience for such work is not only good
business, but it is the only method by which the state can
satisfactorily fulfil its obligation to those who are dependent upon it.
Usually the rural community has few if any private agencies or
associations devoted to the assistance of its dependent. The churches
and the lodges assist some of their own members. Here and there are
isolated groups of King's Daughters or similar societies which devote
themselves to the care of the poor and the sick, but they are
comparatively rare in the country. The Society for the Prevention of
Cruelty to Children often prosecutes rural cases, but it is usually a
town or city organization and has practically no rural membership. Over
the United States as a whole, the American Red Cross has probably done
more to introduce the idea of social work into rural communities than
any one agency. During the war the local chapters of the Red Cross were
authorized to give assistance to soldiers' families in any way possible.
This involved rural as well as town families, and the need of organized
social work became apparent in thousands of rural communities. When
peace was declared, the local chapters were authorized to extend the
Civilian Relief work to civilian families in territory where there was
no other organization doing welfare work, which meant practically all of
the rural United States, providing the work was carried on by trained
workers on a basis approved by the division headquarters. The family
welfare work of the Red Cross was happily named "Home Service" and has
been organized in many rural counties where its value has been
repeatedly demonstrated. The work is directly in charge of a social
worker employed by the county chapter but the local branch in each
community is encouraged to form a Home Service Committee which looks
after the local work as far as it is able, calls in the county worker
when needed, and gives her all the assistance possible. Thus the work is
localized and each community has a definite group of workers who feel
responsible for looking after those needing the community's assistance
and who are learning how to do this in an intelligent manner. No other
agency organized on a national basis has attempted any systematic
organization of social welfare work in local rural communities.
_Social Education of Rural Opinion._--The primary need for the care of
the dependent of the rural community is for a better understanding of
their needs by its more intelligent and public-spirited people. It is a
matter of social education. Social work so-called has had a rapid
development in our cities to meet the situation caused by their sudden
growth with large numbers of foreigners having different standards of
living and unable to adjust themselves to strange conditions with
congested districts where housing and sanitation is poor and with
poverty due to unemployment, sickness, and with the many factors which
result from the complexities of city life. The city slum first
challenged the humanity of the better people and numerous philanthropic
organizations grew up in an effort to give assistance to needy families
and children. For the most part this work has been financed by the
wealthy, has been carried on by social workers who have had special
training for such service, and is commonly known as charity. What social
work has been done in rural communities has been introduced by city
organizations and has usually been fostered by organizations of as few
of the more progressive people at the county seats and the larger towns
or small cities which have worked out into the rural communities from
these centers. Though the purposes and work of these organizations are
excellent, they will never be able to effectively meet the needs of
rural communities until their people appreciate the need for such work
and actively support it.
Much of this sort of work is regarded by rural people as "uplift" and
without local interest and support has little permanent value. The
average rural community has little use for charity in the ordinary sense
of the word. If relief is needed within its borders, it will provide,
but it fails to appreciate that more than relief is needed to prevent
the recurrence of dependency, and that punishment will not correct or
prevent delinquency. The fact is that at present country people have not
seen the social situation in their own communities and so are not
concerned with it. Most of them are of the opinion that the less
government the better, and have not come to realize that an increasingly
complex society--even in the rural community--makes it no longer
possible for the farm family to live to itself, but that for
self-preservation it must look to the social welfare of the whole
community with which its life is bound up.
The need, therefore, is for the education of rural people with regard to
their social responsibilities, which must be largely accomplished
through existing local rural organizations and local leadership. Any
system of rural social work which is to be permanently successful must
be one which is established by the people themselves from a realization
of their needs, and progressively developed as they appreciate its
worth. As Dean A. R. Mann recently said, "In dealing with rural affairs
it has long been a common mistake to underrate the validity of the
farmer's own judgment as to what is good for him." "Superimposed
organizations are usually doomed to failure because they express the
judgments of those without the community rather than those within whom
they are intended to serve." "Ordinarily the most serviceable rural
organizations will be built out of the materials of the community."[74]
It is for this reason that the advance of rural social work will depend
upon arousing an active interest in the welfare of the community's
"disadvantaged" through discussion by such organizations as the church,
the grange, the farm and home bureau, lodges, women's clubs, instruction
in high schools, etc. The work of the public health nurse will reveal
many family problems with which she is unable to deal and which demand
the help of one experienced in social work, and the nurse will be of
service in educating the community to the need of such work.
It seems obvious that by itself the rural community is too small a unit
to employ a social worker who is professionally trained for dealing with
the more difficult social mal-adjustments, and that it must coöperate
with other communities for the organization of such work on a county
basis. Experience has shown that trained social workers actually save
the county the cost of their salaries and expenses, without considering
the greater efficiency and permanent value of the work done. The social
worker has been well termed a "doctor of domestic difficulties." Every
county and community needs such a doctor who is skilled in treating
social disease, but one of her chief functions will be to act as an
educational director in promoting the study of local social conditions
by the existing organizations in every community and in discovering and
training leadership for carrying out a constructive program as it is
evolved. In some way there should be a volunteer committee or worker in
each community associated with the county social worker to advise
concerning policies and to carry on much of the local work under her
supervision and training. For it must be recognized that the economic
resources of rural communities are limited and that they cannot afford
several social workers for different lines of effort, as is common in
cities. But more important is the fact that social welfare depends more
largely upon a proper understanding of its problems by the local
community and a willingness to grapple with them intelligently and
sympathetically, than upon the remedial treatment afforded through
professional workers, courts, institutions and other public agencies.
Social welfare is like health, for which sanitation and hygiene are more
important than doctors and medicines.
What is needed in the rural community is a transformation of the
old-time family hospitality and neighborliness into a feeling of
responsibility for the unfortunate within the community with whom there
may not be immediate contact, but who nevertheless affect the moral and
social life of all its people. It needs the spirit and devotion of the
Good Samaritan on the part of the people, but it also needs the public
health nurse and the social worker who, like the inn-keeper of the
parable, can give adequate care to the unfortunate.
FOOTNOTES:
[72] See Charles E. Gibbons, "A Rural Slum Community." The American
Child. February, 1922. pg. 343.
[73] "Juvenile Delinquency in Rural New York." Kate Holladay Claghorn.
U. S. Dept. of Labor, Children's Bureau. Publication No. 32. Washington.
1918.
[74] "Social Responsibilities of the Rural Community," p. 129. Cornell
Extension Bulletin 39. Rural Community Conference Cornell Farmers' Week.
1919.
CHAPTER XVI
THE COMMUNITY'S GOVERNMENT
Local self-government is a well-established tradition in the United
States, but as far as the rural community is concerned it is more
tradition than fact, for outside of New England the rural community has
no legal or political status. In New England the townships were
originally created as community units, for they were modelled after the
European village community. The meeting house determined the site of the
village where the farmers and craftsmen resided, and the boundaries of
the township were coincident with the limits of their lands. The origin
of the New England township has been well described by John Fiske in a
famous chapter on this subject:[75]
"When people from England first came to dwell in the
Wilderness of Massachusetts Bay, they settled in groups upon
small irregular-shaped patches of land, which soon came to
be known as townships. There were several reasons why they
settled thus in small groups, instead of scattering about
over the country and carving out broad estates for
themselves. In the first place, their principal reason for
coming to New England was their dissatisfaction with the way
in which church affairs were managed in the old country.
They wished to bring about a reform in the church, in such
wise that members of a congregation should have more voice
than formerly in the church-government, and that the
minister of each congregation should be more independent
than formerly of the bishop and of the civil government....
Such a group of people, arriving on the coast of
Massachusetts, would naturally select some convenient
locality, where they might build their houses near together
and all go to the same church. This migration, therefore,
was a movement, not of individuals or of separate families,
but of church congregations, and it continued to be so as
the settlers made their way inland and westward....
"In the second place, the soil of New England was not
favorable to the cultivation of great quantities of staple
articles, such as rice or tobacco, so that there was nothing
to tempt people to undertake extensive plantations. Most of
the people lived on small farms, each family raising but
little more than enough food for its own support; and the
small size of the farms made it possible to have a good many
in a compact neighborhood. It appeared also that towns could
be more easily defended against the Indians than scattered
plantations;...
"Thus the early settlers of New England came to live in
townships. A township would consist of about as many farms
as could be disposed within convenient distance from the
meeting-house, where all the inhabitants, young and old,
gathered every Sunday, coming on horseback or afoot....
Around the meeting-house and common the dwellings gradually
clustered into a village, and after a while the tavern,
store and town-house made their appearance."
When the Mormons settled Utah they established a very similar form of
community government centering around the church. Elsewhere, with rare
exceptions, throughout the North and West the township is the primary
unit of local government, save for school administration, but it is by
no means identical with a community. When the lands west of the
Alleghanies were surveyed for settlement they were laid off in blocks
six miles square, which were known as congressional townships, for
Congress gave each township a square mile of land the proceeds of which
should form a permanent school fund. In discussing the development of
the township in Illinois, Dr. Albert Shaw writes:
"To give effect to this liberal provision, the state enacted
a law making the township a body corporate and politic for
school purposes and authorizing the inhabitants to elect
school officers and maintain free schools. Here, then, was a
rudiment of local government. As New England township life
grew up around the church, so western localism finds its
nucleus in the school system. What more natural than that
the county election district should be made to coincide with
the school township, with a school-house for the voting
place? or that justices of the peace, constables and road
supervisors and overseers of the poor, should have their
jurisdiction determined by the same township lines?"[76]
Thus in many of the North-central States the township came to be the
local unit of government for certain minor purposes, though in other
states it is little more than an election district, and in none of them
is there preserved the old town meeting which gave the New England
township its fundamental democracy.
Owing to the large plantations and the economic and social conditions
prevailing throughout the South, it has had practically no units of
government smaller than the county, other than incorporated villages.
Until very recently our conception of society has been mostly in terms
of political units, largely on account of the lack of any local unit
which had social significance to rural people. In recent years, however,
students of rural government have become aware of the artificiality and
the anti-social character of the township unit. There may be two rival
villages within a township, each competing for trade and the support of
its associations, and striving for the political domination of the
township, while some of the farmers in a far corner of the township may
trade in a village in the next township. Or a village may be on a
township line, which must be observed in all matters of government
although there is no real division of interests between its people.
Outside of New England villages were located at points of geographical
advantage, or along through roads or railroads, primarily as business
centers. There was no particular relation between the village and the
farming area surrounding it. But as the village grew it often desired
modern improvements such as water systems, pavements, street lights,
etc., for which the farmers were unwilling to be taxed and which were
thus prevented as long as the village was controlled by the township.
This has led to most of the larger villages becoming incorporated, so
that they may administer their own local government and tax themselves
for such improvements as they desire. This separation of the village
from the township has been inevitable where the farmers take no pride or
interest in it, and has often been necessitated by their parsimony or
conservatism. This is well illustrated by an incident related by
Professor Herbert B. Adams:
"In my native town, Amherst, Mass., the villagers struggled
for years in town-meeting to secure some system of sewerage
for 'the center,' but the 'ends of the town' always voted
'no'. On one occasion, in order to allay suspicion of
extravagance, a leading villager moved that, whatever system
of sewerage be adopted, the surface water and rainfall be
allowed to take their natural course down-hill in the
ordinary gutters. The farmers sniffed danger in this wily
proposition and voted an overwhelming 'No.' Accordingly by
the local law of Amherst, water had to run uphill until the
next town-meeting! Such is the power of Democracy."[77]
This separate incorporation of the village has been a large factor in
making a distinction between villagers and farmers and preventing their
recognition of their community interests. Not infrequently, however, it
will be found that some of the more progressive villages are not
incorporated and that they have the loyalty of the farmers. Numerous
examples of unincorporated villages might be cited to show that where a
spirit of pride in local village institutions has been developed among
the farmers of the territory tributary to it, that village improvements
not only are not impeded, but the community is much strengthened. This
is more likely to be true, however, where the township boundary and the
natural community area are practically the same.
On the other hand, the progress of a rural community, i.e., a village
and the territory tributary to it, often is prevented if it cannot
command a majority of the votes in a township. In a nearby village is a
town hall which might be used as a community house and be a social
center for the whole community. But the borders of the township belong
to other communities and do not come to the township center, and these
people on the edge of the township very naturally take the position that
if the village and neighboring people wish to use the town hall, let
them rent it of the town, but why should the whole township be taxed for
advantages which only half of it can enjoy. The same line of argument
arises with regard to the location of schools, roads, libraries, and the
districts for public health nurses. Unless the whole township can be
equally well served, a community which forms but part of the township is
unable to secure these advantages unless it can command a majority of
the votes, or except as the village incorporates, and then it loses the
support of the taxes from the farms of the community which share the
benefits.
As long as farm life was on the neighborhood basis, its interests
largely centering in the district school and the country church, its
roads maintained by the labor of its citizens under a local road
supervisor, and trips to the village were made only once or twice a week
for mail and supplies, farmers did not feel the need for a unit of local
government other than the township. But when the church, the grange and
the lodge are in the village, when they desire consolidated schools,
libraries, and community houses, which are most convenient to all at the
village center, and when they desire the improvement of local roads so
that they will best connect with state and county roads, then the
interests of the farmers and the villagers unite them in these common
enterprises, and the community comes into conflict with the rest of the
township if the township is composed of more than one community.
On the other hand, it must be recognized that for many purposes the
community, or even the township, is too small a unit to secure the
greatest efficiency in administration of public agencies, and so there
has been a distinct tendency toward the centralization of many functions
of local government in county officials. Thus the county superintendent
of schools is assuming more and more control over the local school
system, the county supervision of roads is increasing, and we have shown
(p. 145) the desirability of a county health administration, the need
for county juvenile courts (p. 188), county boards for the
administration of welfare work (p. 191), and a county library system.
The county tends to become a rural municipality very similar in function
and organization to the city, and the logical outcome seems to be the
employment of a county manager under a commission or county council,
which has already become possible in Maryland and California.[78] That
this centralization makes possible a greater efficiency in
administration can hardly be doubted, but that it tends to destroy the
initiative and responsibility of the local community is equally
apparent. With an over-centralization of administration, whether in the
county or the state, the local community loses the very ties which have
bound it together. The adjustment of the desires for efficiency and for
local democracy is one of the unsolved problems of government.
Experience shows clearly that the local community or township is too
small a unit to secure efficient administration; but it is also evident
that without some degree of local responsibility and control,
centralized administration tends to become bureaucratic and the people
are deprived of that participation in government which is essential for
the life of a democracy.
Thus the need for the local self-government of rural communities has
become apparent to rural leaders. It is interesting to note that this is
becoming appreciated in the South, where on account of social and
economic conditions local government has been almost entirely lacking in
the past, but where new conditions give rise to new desires which cannot
be realized except through some means whereby a locality can be free to
work out its own salvation. This point of view has been vigorously
expressed by Dr. Clarence Poe, editor of the Progressive Farmer and a
recognized leader of rural life in the South:
"The chief task of the man who would help develop a rich and
puissant rural civilization here in the South--the chief
task perhaps of the man who would make an agricultural
State like North Carolina the great commonwealth it ought to
be--is to develop the rural community."...
"Consider the fact that the country community is the only
social unit known to our civilization that is without
definite boundaries and without machinery for
self-expression and development--without form, and void, as
was chaos before creation."...
"But for the country community there is no organic means of
expression whatever. There is, of course, that shadowy and
futile geographical division known as the Township--but it
is laid off utterly without regard to human consideration,
and serves no purpose save as a means of defining voting
boundaries and limiting the spheres of constables and
sheriff's deputies--a mere ghostly phantom of a social
entity that we need not consider at all."[79]
And he then goes on to show the advantages of the New England township.
_Community School Districts._--The most significant beginning toward the
creation of self-government for the rural community is in the laws which
have been passed by several states permitting redistricting for the
establishment of community high schools or consolidated schools,
irrespective of township or county boundaries and according to the
desire of the prospective patrons of the schools. Thus in 1919 Nebraska
passed a state rural school redistricting law under which every county
has a redistricting committee which determines what seem to be the
natural boundaries of the district, which are then subject to petitions
from the people for their alteration, and the whole plan is then
submitted to a vote of the county. "The law does not explicitly state
that the proposed districts must correspond to a natural community in
the social sense; it only says that they must be very much larger than
the old ones, approximately twenty-five square miles. The inevitable
result, however, of opening the question and of freeing community choice
from old political boundaries is to settle on new areas approaching
social units with self-conscious community ties."[80] Kansas and
Illinois have somewhat similar legislation and a community unit is
proposed by the Committee of 21 which has recently conducted a survey of
the rural school situation in the State of New York.
_Community House Districts_.--Wisconsin has passed an act whereby the
people of any local area may vote to erect and maintain a community
house and may establish the boundaries of the area in which the citizens
shall have the right to tax themselves for this purpose, and to elect
trustees of the house, in much the same manner as community school
districts are established. It seems probable that when a natural social
area has thus been determined it will probably be the same for both
school and community house, and that it might be the best unit for the
support of such community agencies as a public library, or a
public-health nurse, and thus a real community government might
gradually arise and might ultimately displace the arbitrary township
government, although the township might be retained for its original
purpose of land registration.
_Rural Community Incorporation_.--The most advanced step in giving the
rural community self-government is An Act to Provide for the
Incorporation of Rural Communities, passed by the legislature of North
Carolina in 1919.[81] This act gives authority for the incorporation of
rural communities including definite school districts, which may or may
not include hamlets or village centers, but which must be at least two
miles from any town or city of five thousand or more inhabitants. It
gives such incorporated rural communities the general powers and
privileges of an incorporated village, except that they cannot lose
their identity as a part of the school and road systems of the county.
Taxes may be levied for various public purposes, but they must be voted
at an annual meeting at which a majority of the registered voters must
be present, or be submitted to an election, and the amount of taxes and
bonds are limited. Although about a dozen communities have incorporated
under this act, but few of them seem to be actively functioning, due to
various local causes. The act itself, however, is well conceived and is
worthy of study by those interested in better rural government.
Another method of accomplishing the same end is by a special act of
incorporation for a particular community, as was passed by the
Legislature of New Jersey for Plainsboro Township in 1919.
Concerning the organization of this community, Hon. Alva Agee, State
Secretary of Agriculture, writes:
"Every voter within its boundaries signed a petition to the
legislature for the creation of a new township embracing the
territory belonging to the community, and this was granted.
The community then met, made a declaration of its purposes
and adopted a constitution providing for control of all
township and community affairs. It is a return to direct
government by the people, and places responsibility upon
every individual. It is the old New England town-meeting
made effective. Patient study of every detail was given by
members of the community."[82]
The declaration of purposes and constitution[83] are so unique that they
should be studied by all interested in community government.
"A DECLARATION OF PURPOSES
"We, the residents of Plainsboro Township, New Jersey,
declare our purpose to accept all the duties of American
citizenship.
We are forming an association to secure all the benefits of
community life, and affirm the right of our community to
each one's best effort.
We support all individual rights just as far as their use
does not harm our fellows.
We agree that the public good is superior to any private
gain obtained at the expense of community welfare.
We recognize and acknowledge the gracious influences of
practical Christianity in community life.
We ask that our homes be guarded by right social conditions
throughout our community.
We declare the duty of the community to provide good
schools, means for community recreation, safe sanitary
conditions, improved highways, and encouragement to thrift
and home-ownership.
We purpose to make the neatness and attractiveness of our
homes and farms assets of distinct value to the township.
We agree to do our share in the creation of public sentiment
in support of all measures in the public interest.
We agree to put aside all partisan and sectarian relations
when dealing with community matters.
We state our conviction that the best rewards from this
organized effort lie before each one in a deepened interest
in others and in an increased ability to coöperate the one
with the other for the good of all.
We, the citizens of Plainsboro Township, incorporated by act
of the Legislature of the State of New Jersey, approved
April 1, 1919, and accepted by us on May 6, 1919, subscribe
to this declaration."
If such a Declaration of Purposes were adopted by every rural community,
and were taught the children as a civic oath of allegiance, would it not
have more immediate effect on practical patriotism than even the
Declaration of Independence, and what new meaning would be given to
local government? Here is an example of rural civic spirit which, if it
could become general throughout the rural communities of the United
States, would remold the political and social organization of the whole
country; for it provides both the mechanism and the spirit which are
essential for making democracy a reality rather than an ideal.
_Community Government and Democracy._--The local community is
indispensable as the primary political unit for the maintenance of true
democracy, both because it is small enough that there can be personal
relations between its members, in which a real consensus of opinion can
be formed, and also because only in it can the masses of mankind have
any personal experience or participation in government. Unless the
individual has a social consciousness of the community in which he
lives, he can have but a feeble and hazy realization of larger social
groups. Unless the community through its individuals is self-conscious,
it cannot take its rightful place in the larger community of which it
forms a part. If democracy does not obtain in the local community, the
voice of such a community in the affairs of the county or state will be
that of its self-chosen leaders. It is difficult to conceive how any
real democracy can be secured in State or Nation where it does not
obtain in their constituent communities. It is entirely possible to have
a government democratic in form and theory, but actually a political or
economic feudalism, supported by local chieftains who represent not the
people, but themselves or some business or other special interests. The
very life of true democracy is in the participation of individuals in
the government of the local group and in the organization of the
locality groups, so that there may be a fair discussion and expression
by those who are bound together by common interests through some form of
self-government for the rural community.
FOOTNOTES:
[75] "Civil Government in the United States," pp. 17, 18. Boston, 1890.
[76] "Local Government in Illinois," p. 10. Johns Hopkins Univ. Studies
in History and Political Science. Vol. I, No. 3, 1883.
[77] Editor's note, p. 51. "Penn. Boroughs," by Wm. F. Holcomb. Johns
Hopkins Univ. Stud. in History and Pol. Sc. Vol. IV, No. 4, 1886.
[78] See E. H. Ryder, "Proposed Modifications and Recent Tendencies in
Rural Government and Legislation," p. 112, Proc. 3d Natl. Country Life
Conference.
[79] "Why Not Local Self-Government for Rural Communities," pp. 4-48.
North Carolina Club Year Book, 1917-1918. "County Government and County
Affairs in North Carolina." The University of North Carolina Record. No.
159. Oct., 1918. Chapel Hill, N. C.
[80] H. Paul Douglas. "Recent Legislation Facilitating Rural Community
Organization," p. 124, Proc. 3d Natl. Country Life Conference.
[81] Public Laws of 1919, Reprinted as Appendix A, p. 116, of A. W.
Hayes, "Rural Community Organization." Chicago, 1921.
[82] "A Community Organization." National Stockman and Farmer. July 26,
1919.
[83] For the constitution see Appendix A, page 247.
CHAPTER XVII
COMMUNITY ORGANIZATION[84]
From one standpoint the whole progress of civilization is but a process
of social organization, the establishment of those relationships which
best promote the largest measure of human welfare. In the previous
chapters we have noted the various aspects and problems of rural life
which have necessitated the community as a unit for social organization.
As a result of the growing conviction that the conditions of rural life
can be made satisfying only through the collective efforts of definite
communities, there has arisen a widespread movement for the better
organization of community interests and activities, which has come to be
known as community organization. Although this movement is being
encouraged by many agencies, its greatest significance and importance
arises from the fact that, for the most part, community organization of
many diverse types is springing up in rural communities throughout the
country as a means of meeting their local needs. This spontaneity of the
movement is the best evidence that changing conditions have brought
about a real need for some better machinery for community development.
In order to understand community organization so that we may
intelligently encourage its development, it will be well to consider (1)
the underlying causes, (2) the process of organization, and (3) the
forms of organization.
1. _Causes._--Usually the immediate cause of attempting community
organization is the common desire to meet a need which cannot well be
realized except through the united effort of the whole community.
Improved roads are needed, a library or playground is desired, a Liberty
Loan must be raised, a Fourth of July celebration or a pageant is to be
undertaken, a band or baseball team needs financial support and
patronage to prevent its disbanding, hard times or a fire make unusual
aid necessary to certain families, an influenza epidemic compels a
united effort for the care of the sick. In all such cases a citizens'
committee is usually organized which represents various organizations
and interests so that the support of all the elements in the community
may be enlisted. When any common need is of such a magnitude or of such
a nature that it is not within the field of any one organization or
agency, then some form of at least temporary community organization is
necessary. When some of these needs, such as a community house or a
public health nurse, require permanent maintenance, and the coöperation
of various organizations is essential for the success of the enterprise,
then some permanent form of community organization becomes desirable. If
a community organization is to be permanent and is to really function,
there must be work for it to do which cannot or will not be done by
existing agencies.
A second cause for community organization arises from the increasing
complexity of human relationships, even in a rural community. We have
observed that in recent years there has been a rapid increase in the
number of associations each of which is devoted to some one special
interest. The life of simpler or more primitive communities is a unit
with regard to all phases of their life, religion, government, and
social affairs. Such was the township of colonial New England and many
a community in the pioneer stage. But in modern times a multiplicity of
voluntary associations have sprung up and have spread from one community
to another. In many cases the members of such organizations become more
loyal to them than to the community; organizations become self-centered
and divisive rather than being devoted to the community good. Religion,
government, economic life, and education have become more or less
separate spheres of life, each having a code of its own, whereas human
problems involve all of these aspects of life and cannot be successfully
solved while there is conflict of standards between religion, business,
government, and social life. Not infrequently more than one organization
undertakes the same or similar work, or the demands of one clash with
those of another, and social confusion arises. When this occurs in a
large city between organizations which are supported by the wealthy or
by different groups, each may go as far as its resources will permit;
but in the rural community where organizations must be of the people and
supported by all of them, such a situation cannot be tolerated for both
funds and leadership are limited.
Organizations arise to meet recognized human needs, but no one
organization can meet all the needs of the whole community. Nor do all
organizations appeal to all people. Men associate according to their
special individual interests, some are more interested in religion and
business, others in social life or athletics, or what not. As the
organizations representing these interests become more and more
specialized, each individual belongs to several organizations, whose
interests sometimes conflict and members of a community are arrayed
against each other. Thus an individual is sometimes involved in a
divided loyalty between two groups, and finds himself with a conflict of
purposes which lessens that personal unity which is essential for
character and personal peace. The character of the individual is
developed to the extent that he is able to resolve this conflict of his
interests in one dominant purpose. So the welfare of the community can
be secured only by a unity of purpose among its organizations in their
loyalty to the common good. This tendency to form associations for
special interests is shown in the following diagram:
FOR A SATISFYING} {ASSOCIATIONS AND
LIFE EVERY MAN } These needs {ORGANIZATIONS REPRESENTING
NEEDS: } are met by {SPECIAL
} {INTERESTS OF THE
} {COMMUNITY, such as
1. ECONOMIC PROSPERITY Coöperative Marketing Assns.
--An Adequate Income Coöperative Buying Assns.
Commercial Clubs
Farm Loan Assns.
2. HEALTH Public health nurses
--Physical Fitness Local health officer
Local hospitals
3. EDUCATION Schools
--The Ability to Learn Parent-Teacher's Assns.
Farm and Home Bureau
Boys' and Girls' Clubs
Public Library and Museum
Community Fairs
4. SOCIABILITY AND RECREATION Lodges
--The Joy of Playing Together Women's clubs; men's clubs
Scouts; Camp Fire Girls
Athletic Clubs and Assns.
Moving pictures and theatres
Public playground & gymnasium
5. ARTISTIC ENJOYMENT Village Improvement Societies
--Appreciation of Beauty in Community Choruses
Nature, Music, Art and Literature Bands and Orchestras
6. RELIGIOUS LIFE Churches and church federations
--The Common Quest of the Y. M. C. A. and Y. W. C. A.
Highest Ideals Young People's Societies
7. FAMILY WELFARE Red Cross--Home Service
--Love of Family Child Welfare Bureaus and Child
Study Clubs
8. A PROGRESSIVE COMMUNITY Some form of a Community
--A Desire for Opportunity organization, bringing together
for All--i.e., Democracy all the above.
On the other hand we must recognize man's gregarious tendency, his
desire for the support of public opinion, his craving of a feeling of
"togetherness." The elation which comes to a people engaged in war or in
meeting any common disaster comes chiefly from the satisfaction they
experience in being united in a common cause and enjoying the sanction
of their fellows without division among them. The individualistic
philosophy of the more sophisticated may enable them to find
satisfaction in more or less socially segregated groups under ordinary
conditions, but when they face calamity, when the most fundamental and
deepest issues of life are involved, then they enjoy association with
those who surround them--they become "neighbors."
This desire of men to associate in groups which represent their special
interests, and their equal desire to be _en rapport_ with all their
fellows with whom their life is associated in community life, is one of
the paradoxes into which many of our basic human problems resolve, and
furnishes one of the primary reasons for some form of community
organization which will unify the increasing complexity of associations.
A third underlying motive for community organization, which is just
coming to receive recognition, is the need of defending the interests of
the local community against the domination of national or state
organizations, of maintaining a necessary degree of local autonomy. All
organizations which become associated in state or national federations
inevitably develop a central administration which tends to become more
or less of a hierarchy or bureaucracy. The national organization seeks
to achieve its special objects and to emphasize their supreme
importance. It tries to secure efficiency of the local groups through
standardization, and very naturally encourages their loyalty to the
state or national aims and purposes. This tendency is more or less
inevitable and is an inherent weakness of all large organizations which
do not constantly place their emphasis on strengthening their local
units and encouraging devotion to community service. But in many cases
the larger organization has lost a true perspective of its relationship
to its local units and of their primary duty to their local communities.
The most flagrant instance of this principle is in the domination of
local government by national political parties, whose policies have
nothing whatever to do with local administration, but who maintain their
"machines" so that an efficient organization is available for mobilizing
the vote in state and national elections. The resulting reaction has
given rise to citizen's tickets, commission government and city
managers, and in the more progressive smaller communities a growing
tendency to vote for the best man irrespective of party. Wherever a
community votes independently of national party lines on local affairs,
there will be found healthy local government. For the same general
reasons we have observed the growth of the community church movement (p.
127) as a protest against sectarian rivalries, the new emphasis of the
master of the national grange (p. 172) on the community responsibilities
of the grange as more important than its legislative activities, and the
effort to prevent an over-centralization of school administration
through the creation of community school districts under local control.
A striking example of the reaction of local communities in self-defense
against the demands for support from many organizations was the rapid
spread of the "War Chest" movement among our cities during the war as a
means of raising funds for various national organizations carrying on
war work. Subsequently the same idea has given rise to the organization
of "Community Chests" or "Community Funds" for financing various
community and national welfare agencies, so as to ensure adequate
support for those which are necessary, but to discourage a multiplicity
of competing organizations, and to furnish a mechanism whereby the
community may exercise some definite policy with regard to its social
work.
Such are some of the fundamental causes which have given rise to various
experiments in community organization. They commenced about a decade
ago, but increased slowly prior to the war. The war brought about a new
realization of the community, as it was necessary to organize war
activities, "war drives," etc., on a community basis. Under the National
Council of Defense were organized State and County Councils of Defense
and finally President Wilson issued a letter encouraging the
organization of local Community Councils,[85] to bring together all
organizations and interests of the community not only for war purposes
but with a view to their future usefulness in times of peace. In this
letter, President Wilson said:
"Your State, in extending the national defense organization
by the creation of community councils, is in my opinion
making an advance of vital significance. It will, I believe,
result when thoroughly carried out in welding the Nation
together as no nation of great size has been welded before.
It will build up from the bottom an understanding and
sympathy and unity of purpose and effort which will no doubt
have an immediate and decisive effect upon our great
undertaking. You will find it, I think, not so much a new
task as a unification of existing efforts, a fusion of
energies now too much scattered and at times somewhat
confused into one harmonious and effective power. It is only
by extending your organization to small communities that
every citizen of the State can be reached and touched with
the inspiration of the common cause."
The organization of community councils was actively pushed by the
National and State Councils of Defense, and thousands of them were
organized. This was in the summer of 1918, but owing to the early
declaration of the Armistice they had but little opportunity to become
thoroughly established. As they had been created primarily for war
purposes, most of them ceased to function with the cessation of
hostilities, but the idea had taken root and the experience of common
effort in war activities had brought about a new sense of the value of
some sort of community organization.
2. _The Process of Community Organization._--As corollaries of the
motives for community organization which we have just discussed, there
are certain fairly obvious principles concerning the process of
organization which deserve emphasis.
The first essential is to determine whether there are unsatisfied
desires which cannot be met except by community action and whether they
are sufficiently desired to command the united support of the community.
Only as individuals and associations have common desires which cannot be
satisfied without their united activity can community organization be
effected. The mere logical desirability of coördination of effort,
however rational it may appear, is too abstract an objective to inspire
enduring devotion. The allaying of antagonisms between special interests
makes no appeal to any of them until they are unable to achieve their
ends without joint action. Therefore, the primary consideration in
community organization is to determine what is the most important unmet
need of the community which requires united action for its satisfaction,
and to enlist all possible elements in the common enterprise.
A community must be thoroughly convinced of the need of some definite
form of community organization before it can succeed. Sudden enthusiasm
due to the power of a persuasive speaker or a community meeting may
result in the formation of a community organization, but unless a
considerable proportion of the people representing various interests are
firmly convinced of the need and are willing to pool their interests in
community activities, such an organization will be like many a convert
of a revival meeting, it will soon "backslide." To secure the
recognition of the need for concerted action by all elements of the
community will usually require time and education, and is a process
which cannot be forced too rapidly--all education or learning involves
time.
Even when an outstanding need is apparent it may not always be possible
to gain the support of a sufficient portion of the community to justify
an immediate effort for its achievement. It may be necessary to first
arouse good feeling and community spirit by some activity which, though
relatively less important, will command more general interest and
participation, and may pave the way for other enterprises. The first and
essential step in community organization is to get the community to act
together, for only through collective activity is community spirit and
loyalty developed. It is for this reason that Old Home Weeks, family
reunions, athletic or play festivals, baseball teams, picnics, pageants,
dramatics, community fairs, community Chautauquas, holiday celebrations,
and kindred events are often the best means for creating better
community spirit.[86] It should be remembered that the objective of
community organization is not _an_ organization, but the active
coöperation of all the people and organizations of the community for the
common welfare. The essential is common ideals and loyalties; the
mechanism whereby these may be achieved is incidental.
Until genuine local leadership is available, community organization will
be impossible. It is true that often where the need for community
activity is sufficiently great that the very necessity develops new
leadership. Herein lies the value of beginning the process of community
organization by some enterprise which enlists the enthusiastic support
of the whole community, for in such activities new leadership is often
developed.
Any form of community organization which is to be permanent and
effective must represent the actual life of the community, which is
largely dominated by existing organizations. Most individuals are loyal
to certain of these organizations and these loyalties are the social
realities which must be recognized in any attempt to unite them in
larger aims. Unless most of the leading organizations of a community can
be affiliated for community progress, any so-called community
organization will be but another organization. The League of Nations
hardly represents the world community as long as the United States,
Germany and Russia are not affiliated with it, nor would our federal
government be representative of our national life if it were
responsible only to the direct vote of the people and did not give
recognition to the states as states. It is for this reason that
community organization will proceed most efficiently where it is
initiated by the joint effort of several of its leading associations,
the churches, the grange, the farm and home bureau, the Red Cross, the
business men's association, etc., for without their support a divided
loyalty will persist.
For the same reason, a community organization cannot be under the
auspices of any one existing organization as a chamber of commerce or
farm bureau. Both of these and others are community organizations, but
they are for specific purposes. Proponents of both of these have
advocated making them community-wide and all-embracing in their
functions, but it needs but little reflection to show the impossibility
of such a plan. To cite but one objection. The rural church is the most
deeply-rooted and in many ways the most powerful of rural institutions.
It can coöperate with these other organizations for community purposes,
but neither of them can enter into the religious field. The same is true
of lodges, schools, health organizations, government, etc. Community
organizations, such as the Chamber of Commerce or Commercial Club, the
Grange and the Farm Bureau for agriculture and homemaking, the Red Cross
for its activities, Church Federations, and others should all be
encouraged where needed, but although each of these has certain
community functions, no one of them can do or can direct the work of
another. The community organization must bring them together so as to
best coördinate their work for the good of the community, not through
the power of an organic federation, but through the influence of
conference, good will and devotion to the common weal.
3. _The Community Council._--Community organizations are, as yet, in an
experimental stage and their formal constitutions or by-laws are of many
different types.[87] The Community Council, as suggested by the National
Council of Defense, has been adopted in many communities with various
modifications to meet local conditions. A community council consists of
one representative from each general organization which affiliates with
it and of a variable number of members-at-large elected by the annual
community meeting. All citizens are entitled to vote for the
members-at-large. The usual officers may be elected by the community
meeting, or, preferably, be chosen by the council itself. Thus the
council represents both the existing organizations and the community as
a whole. The council does not attempt any control over existing
organizations, but merely provides a means for their voluntary
coöperation and is an agency for promoting community activities. In many
cases where there are a large number of organizations, and it is
surprising how many are found in many average-sized rural communities,
the council will be too large to be an effective working body.
Furthermore, the members who represent various organizations may not
always be the best persons to carry on the particular enterprises which
the council desires to promote. The council may, under such
circumstances, devote itself to the consideration of policies and
enterprises, and may create committees of citizens who are best
qualified and most interested in particular projects to have charge of
their execution. Thus if the council decides to get back of a movement
for a playground, a public health nurse, and a band, committees would be
appointed to take charge of organizing each one of these enterprises.
These committees should be selected so as to represent the various
organizations most directly concerned with or interested in the
particular project as far as possible, but they should be chosen
primarily for their ability to produce results. Committees should be
appointed only for those projects which the council decides to
undertake, although one or two committees may be appointed merely to
investigate suggested projects and to report their findings for further
consideration. Where the council is large, and it is not practicable to
have it meet more than once a quarter, it may be well to have its work
carried on in the interims by an executive committee consisting of the
officers and the chairmen of the committees.
There can be no one best type of community organization adapted to the
widely varying conditions of all sorts and sizes of rural communities;
each community must have a form of organization adapted to its needs.
The important thing is not the creation of another new organization in
the community, but to afford the means for the better team play of those
which already exist. The mechanism must therefore depend upon the
character and stage of development of the community and will be modified
from time to time as its experience, or that of similar community
organizations, warrants.
Finally let us remember that community organization is not an end in
itself, but that it is merely a means whereby conditions in the
community may be made such that every individual in it may have the best
possible chance to develop his personality and to enjoy the fellowship
of service in the common good. The aim of all social organization is
personality, but personality is achieved and can find its own
satisfaction only through fellowship. The ideal community but furnishes
the social environment in which the human spirit realizes its highest
values.
FOOTNOTES:
[84] Much of this chapter is a revision of parts of an article by the
author entitled "Some Fundamentals of Rural Community Organization."
Proceedings Third Natl. Country Life Conference, pp. 66-77.
[85] See Elliott Dunlap Smith, Proceedings first National Country Life
Conference, pp. 36-46 and Appendix C.
[86] In this connection, Dr. N. L. Sims in his "The Rural Community" (p.
640. New York. Scribners, 1920), has propounded a most interesting "Law
of Rural Socialization":--"Coöperation in rural neighborhoods has its
genesis in and development through those forms of association which,
beginning on the basis of least cost, gradually rise through planes of
increasing cost to the stage of greatest cost in effort demanded, and
which give at the same time ever increasing and more enduring benefits
and satisfactions to the group."
[87] See pp. 74-5, "Some Fundamentals of Rural Community Organization."
Proc. 3d National Country Life Conference; and, E. C. Lindeman, "The
Community," Chap. X. New York, Association Press, 1921.
CHAPTER XVIII
COMMUNITY PLANNING
So far we have been considering the community with regard to how its
people associate, with community psychology and behavior. But we must
not forget that the community has a physical basis. The buildings which
house these associations at the community center, the church, the
school, the grange hall, the stores, with the roads which radiate from
it and the farmsteads which they serve, these are the structures which,
with the natural topography of stream and hill, give material form to
the community and condition its life.
One of the chief difficulties in the development of rural communities in
the United States is that, like Topsy, they have "just growed." Village
centers have sprung up here and there and gradually the surrounding
countryside becomes associated with them. As a result little
consideration has been given to planning the community either for
efficiency or attractiveness. Sinclair Lewis' description of Gopher
Prairie in "Main Street" may be overdrawn and unjust to many a rural
community, but it describes conditions which are so common that it has
aroused the public conscience concerning the lack of civic spirit in
rural communities.
A community is much like an individual. The man who is slouchy and
careless of his personal appearance is rarely a strong character. The
community whose cemetery is neglected, whose school grounds are a mass
of mud and the outhouses a disgrace, whose lawns are unkept, where
ash-piles and neglected puddles fill the vacant lots, whose roads are
tortuous and unimproved, whose farm houses are unpainted and whose
barnyards are more prominent than the door-yards--such a community is
usually weak. It has little pride in itself or desire for improvement.
In the case of the man who is "down and out," if we wish to give him a
new start, we encourage him to take a bath and a shave and we then
furnish him clean clothes, so that looking more respectable he may act
the part. Likewise in community improvement a "clean up day" is often
one of the best means of starting a new pride among its people.
But improving its looks will not remedy the more fundamental structural
defects which frequently handicap the rural community. Utility as well
as beauty is essential in community arrangement. If the community is to
escape ugliness and inconvenience, it will sooner or later come to the
time when it must definitely plan the arrangement of its streets and
roads, its public buildings and its open spaces, so as to best serve all
parts of the community. Community planning is as essential to
satisfactory "community housekeeping" as the plan of a house is for the
convenience of the home. An architect is needed to plan a home for the
community, a community structure which is mechanically sound and
efficient and withal both beautiful and comfortable, just as much as for
designing a house. So the art of "town planning" is extending from the
cities to the country and some of our landscape architects who love the
countryside and appreciate its life and problems are giving their
attention to rural community planning.[88]
This is not the place to enter into any extended discussion of the art
of community planning, but we may well consider a few principles which
are essential for realizing the ideals of community development.
As the community center is the nucleus of the community life, let us
first consider the village plan.
One enters the community at the railroad station or by a main road. It
is, of course, impossible to prevent the property adjoining a railroad
from being the least attractive, because it is the most undesirable for
residence purposes; but it is entirely practicable to have a neat
railroad station with well-kept surroundings. Some of our more
progressive railroad companies have perceived that it is good business
to make their stations and grounds attractive and most of them will be
willing to meet the local people halfway in an effort to improve their
appearance. In far too many cases the grounds of the railroad station
and the adjoining properties are the most neglected spot in the village
and give an unfavorable impression of the community. Certainly we would
think a man queer who placed the back-door of his house to the street,
but the railroad station is usually the back-door of the community
instead of the main entrance as it should be. On the other hand, on
alighting at a well-kept station, with a neat lawn, good walks and
roads, which is not surrounded by the village rubbish heaps and
dilapidated buildings, the newcomer feels that here is a place which
invites further acquaintance, while the native has a sense of
satisfaction rather than of apology.
The same principles apply to main road entrances to the village. The
automobile has greatly increased highway travel. Where a village places
a sign at its entrance "Welcome to Smithville," and at its exit "Come
Again," as is now frequently done, it not only makes a favorable
impression on the tourist, but it gives the community a sense of
identity. In New England these signs are frequently placed, at the
township line rather than at the village boundary. In a few cases
villages have erected dignified stone pillars or arches at the entrance
points.
The building of state roads between village centers has almost
necessitated paving or hard roads in the village, for people resent
traveling over a good road in the open country and then plowing through
mud holes in a village. Not infrequently the streets of the incorporated
village are much poorer than the state roads outside the village and
although incorporation formerly enabled the village to do its own paving
and make other public improvements, the unincorporated village now has
the advantage of having its main roadways constructed as a part of state
or county road systems at less expense to the villagers. In any event
the paving of the principal streets of the village should be considered
an obligation of the whole community, not only of the village but of the
farm area surrounding it--_i.e._, the township, for on them the traffic
of the whole community centers and in many cases the farmers of the
community do more actual hauling over the village streets than do the
people of the village. It is, of course, entirely proper, where state
laws permit, to assess part of the cost of village pavements on the
abutting property, but it is short-sighted economy for farmers to object
to sharing in the cost of such improvements in their community centers.
When we come to a consideration of the general plan or layout of the
village, it is obvious that in older communities it is hardly
practicable to make material changes. In the old New England villages a
part of the original town common has often been preserved as a "common"
or park in the center of the village with a broad expanse of lawn and
stately shade trees, while newer communities have frequently been laid
out around a central open square. Here is the flagpole and the Soldiers'
Monument or other historic memorials, and possibly a fountain or
watering trough, and sometimes a band stand. It is a place where
open-air meetings of all sorts, band concerts and community singing, may
be held. It is the modern substitute for the forum of the old Roman
town. When one compares a village which is merely strung along a main
roadway, or two crossroads, with one which has such a civic center, he
cannot but feel that the latter has a physical structure which gives it
an identity and a common interest which is lacking in the former and
which must mean much in the maintenance of community pride and which
must give much better opportunity for outdoor gatherings of all sorts.
In planning a new community such a public square should be a central
feature. Around it may be built the school, the town hall or community
house, the churches, the library and other public buildings. If large
enough it should include tennis courts and a playground. Where the main
streets are already occupied with business blocks and residences, it may
be possible to secure a square not far from the village center where a
new school building or community house may be erected and which may
include a playground, bandstand, and whatever features are desired, even
if it is necessary to place it at the edge of the village. Wherever
possible the playground should adjoin the school building or community
house, or both. Either as a feature of the playground or adjoining it,
there should be a baseball diamond and bleachers or grandstand. Such a
civic center will be found to be a powerful factor in the maintenance of
community pride and loyalty.[89]
The growth of automobile touring has encouraged the provision of camping
sites for tourists on the edge of the village. Wherever a suitable
grove or other natural setting can be found nearby a village it should
be reserved as a public picnic ground or park. A part of this might also
be made available for a tourists' camp, and often it will be a good
location for a ball diamond. There has recently been a steady growth of
interest in community fairs and such a picnic ground or park might well
be arranged with an open space adjoining it for fair and festival
purposes.
These general features and facilities of the village plan are not simply
for the advantage or beautification of the village, but they benefit the
life of the whole community and should be considered as features of the
community's plant.
When we leave the village center and survey the farming area of the
community, the most fundamental feature of its structure is the road
plan. In hilly regions the location of roads is necessarily largely
determined by topography, but over most of the Middle West the roads
were laid out on section lines at the time of the original surveys and
their location has never been changed. One who has grown up in that
section feels a sort of pride in the straight roads and looks askance at
the crooked roads of the East, but as a matter of fact the latter are in
many cases much better located as regards their utility, for they were
laid out to reach certain centers by the most direct route. On the other
hand, the location of the village centers of the Middle West was largely
determined by the railroad stations, and the roads were located without
regard to them. As a result it is almost always necessary to traverse
two sides of a square in order to reach the community center. This
means that such a route is forty percent longer from the corners of the
community than it would be by a straight line. This was bad enough with
dirt roads, and if all the roads could be hard-surfaced, the automobile
would, of course, lessen the time required for travel. It is, however,
economically impossible to improve all minor roads and with the high
cost of macadam, concrete, brick, or other hard-surface, not only for
original cost but for upkeep, it seems absurd to continue to build the
main roads on rectangular lines rather than by the shortest route
between the most-traveled points. The saving in cost of construction and
maintenance would much more than pay for the cost of all land which it
would be necessary to condemn for their right-of-way, and the saving in
time and cost of transportation for the whole community would amount to
a large sum every year. Far too little attention has been given by road
engineers to community planning, and with the vast sums which are now
being expended by the federal, state and county governments on permanent
roads, it is of the utmost importance that this matter of road location
with regard to directness of access to the community centers should
receive much more careful study and better supervision by all the
authorities concerned, not only with regard to topography, but with
regard to the social and economic welfare of the areas concerned. The
newer sections of the country, and particularly western Canada, have
become aware of this lack of economy in road location and are giving it
consideration. In a report on Rural Planning and Development prepared
for the Canadian Commission on Conservation, Mr. Thomas Adams, the town
planning adviser of the commission, has outlined several plans for the
better location of roads so that they will radiate from the community
center and has shown that it is entirely possible to retain rectangular
farm plans with radial roads.[90] He summarizes his discussion of this
matter as follows:
"The main points of contention in this chapter are:--That
the present system of surveying land for the purpose of
securing accurate boundaries to arbitrary divisions and
sub-divisions of land, while satisfactory for that purpose,
is not a method of planning land, but only a basis on which
to prepare planning and development schemes; that no
definite or stereotyped system of planning can be
satisfactory for general application; that all plans should
have regard to the physical and economic conditions of the
territory to which they apply and should be made for the
general purpose of securing healthy conditions, amenity,
convenience and economic use of the land; and that more
complete and adequate surveys and a comprehensive
classification of land is essential to secure successful and
permanent land settlement." (p. 71)
Another feature of community planning which is coming to receive larger
attention is the preservation of unusual geological and scenic features
for the use of public. One of the scenic attractions most commonly
neglected is the land along waterways. Sometimes the land on one side of
a stream is occupied by a road, but in many cases it is private
property. If reserved to the public many of these watercourses might be
most attractive parkways. In many cases the control of waterways has
been necessitated for the maintenance of the purity of the water supply
and the advantage of having the adjoining land--usually more or less
wooded--available for picnic parties has encouraged the extension of
public control of waterways. Several states now have legislation
permitting counties or towns to acquire such areas for park purposes,
and the Province of Ontario and some other Canadian provinces require
that a width of 66 feet be reserved around all lakes and rivers.
In order to utilize the waste land of the watersheds and to protect the
shores of reservoirs and streams which furnish public water supplies,
many cities have reforested considerable areas, which will be maintained
as public forests and will be cut as the timber becomes merchantable.
This movement has called attention to the practicability of establishing
town or community forests on cheap land unsuitable for tillage, as a
source of income to the community. Communal forests have existed in
Europe for many centuries, and at the present time form 22 percent of
the forests in France. A movement has now commenced for the planting of
town forests in this country,[91] and the better utilization of the
community's waste land by planting it in timber should be considered a
feature of community planning.
The improvements effected in cities through city planning commissions,
both with regard to street location for the better routing of traffic,
and the laying out of parks and the location of public buildings, have
been so apparent, that the idea has been taken up by rural communities
and a few states have passed legislation for the creation of special
agencies for rural community planning. Thus Massachusetts has for
several years had a Town Planning Commission and in 1919 Wisconsin
passed an act[92] creating a division on rural planning of the State
Department of Agriculture, and creating rural planning committees in
each county. In 1920 thirty-six counties had organized such committees
under this law and had already accomplished much under its
authority.[93] Some of the more progressive land companies which are
colonizing new lands in northern Wisconsin are making definite community
plans to encourage settlement,[94] and in California the State Land
Settlement Board has done much to encourage better rural planning by the
demonstrations which it has made in its farm colonies at Durham and
Delhi.[95] The Extension Services of several of the State agricultural
colleges have experts on landscape art who give assistance in the
improvement of public grounds and in community planning.
A system of numbering farms has recently been invented which is based
upon the relations of farms to their community centers and which
therefore makes necessary the definite location of rural community areas
and their boundaries. This is known as the "Clock System" rural index
and is now in use in four counties in New York State. The county map
published in the directory shows the different communities outlined by
heavily shaded lines and the farm numbers radiate from the community
centers. On the map each community is divided as a spider's web into a
number of small spaces by twelve dotted lines that extend from each
village on the same radii as the hour-marks on the dial of a clock, and
by concentric circles which are a mile apart from each community center.
Each set of lines and circles extends to the community boundary, and the
farm is given a number which shows the sector in which it is located
with reference to the distance from the community center. In front of a
farm will be found a number, usually just below the mail box, such as
Alton 3-2-K. This indicates that the farm is in the direction of the 3
o'clock mark on a clock, or east, of Alton; the second term, 2, shows
that it is between two and three miles from Alton and the letter K
enables one to locate the individual farm on the small area between the
3 o'clock and 4 o'clock radial lines and the two and three mile circles.
In the directory accompanying the map the names of all householders are
arranged alphabetically and also serially by their numbers, so that the
name of the householder at a certain number of his location on the map
may be readily ascertained. This system not only makes necessary a
definite determination of the center and boundary of every community,
but the number itself relates the farm to its community. This is a
matter of considerable importance, for since the abolishment of many
rural postoffices the farmer's mail address may be on a rural route
starting from some railroad station or larger town which he visits only
occasionally, and has no reference to the community in which he lives.
The system was invented by a Colorado farmer, Mr. J. B. Plato, who
devised it so that it might be possible for buyers to find his farm. As
he claims, such a number "puts the farmer on the map" and gives his home
a definite location just as does the street number of the city
house.[96]
Finally, in any effort toward community planning it must be remembered
that most rural communities are, in a way, but parts of what, for want
of a better term, we may term larger communities. Not every small rural
community can support a library building, a hospital, a high school, a
moving picture theater, or a public health nurse. As has been pointed
out in the previous chapters, these agencies can be maintained only at
such centers as can command the support of several smaller communities.
Obviously they will tend to be located at the larger towns, such as the
county seats. Roads should be planned with regard to making these larger
centers most readily available to their tributary territory. It would
seem to be advantageous to the smaller communities to definitely relate
themselves to one of these larger centers in the support of some of the
more costly community services which they are unable to maintain, and an
understanding should be developed between the smaller and larger
centers, whereby the latter will not attempt to displace the former. The
larger villages and towns must recognize that the smaller nearby
communities are an economic and social asset and that the maintenance of
their village centers is essential to successful community life. On the
other hand, the smaller communities should recognize their own
limitations and should utilize the advantages of the larger centers
without jealousy of them. The county library system and the county
hospital illustrate the advantages to be obtained through the larger
community, but which are impossible without the support of the voters of
the smaller subsidiary communities.
With the growth of the community idea, and as communities become so
organized that they have some mechanism for self-examination and
self-expression, more study will be given to the physical structure of
the community as essential for economy and utility, and more pride will
be taken in making it beautiful and satisfying. Community planning is
essential for the highest type of community development.
FOOTNOTES:
[88] For a most suggestive introduction to this whole field see Prof.
Frank A. Waughs "Rural Improvement." New York, Orange Judd Co., 1914.
[89] Many plans for ideal rural community centers have been published.
Among them see N. Y. State College of Agriculture, Extension Circular
No. 1, "A Plan for a Rural Community Center"; Peter A. Speek, "A Stake
in the Land," Plate facing page 252; plans of Durham and Delhi,
California, in reports of Calif. Land Settlement Board.
One of the most comprehensive studies in rural community planning is
"Town Planning for Small Communities," by Walpole (Mass.) Town Planning
Committee. Edited by C. S. Bird.
[90] Thomas Adams, "Rural Planning and Development." Canada Commission
of Conservation, Ottawa, 1917, pp. 53-64, with illustrations.
[91] Samuel T. Dana, "Forestry and Community Development." Bulletin 638,
U. S. Dept. of Agriculture, Washington, D. C.
A. B. Recknagel, "County, Town, and Village Forests." N. Y. State
College of Agriculture, Cornell Reading Course for the Farm, Lesson 40,
1913.
John S. Everitt, "Working Plan for a Communal Forest for the Town of
Ithaca, N. Y.," Cornell Univ. Agr. Exp. Station, Bulletin 404.
[92] Chapter 693, Wis. Laws of 1919, Creating section 1458-11 of the
Statutes.
[93] See "The Survey," Dec. 25, 1920, p. 459.
[94] See Peter A. Speek, "A Stake in the Land," p. 53. New York,
Harpers, 1921.
[95] See Elwood Mead, "Helping Men Own Farms." New York, Macmillan,
1921.
[96] The "clock system" is described in detail in the writer's bulletin,
"Locating the Rural Community." Cornell Reading Course for the Farm,
Lesson 158. Information concerning it may be secured from the American
Rural Index Corporation, Ithaca, N. Y.
CHAPTER XIX
COMMUNITY LOYALTY
Just as we know a man by his bodily presence, so we recognize a
community by its location and its physical structure. Yet the man is
more than a body and the community is more than its material basis; the
real community consists of the men, women, and children living together
in a restricted environment. Dr. R. E. Hieronymous has well expressed
the most fundamental aspect of the community when he says that its
people "are coming to act together in the chief concerns of life."[97]
The life of the community consists of the common activities of its
people. There can be no community where there is no devotion to a common
cause. The cause may be now one thing, now another, it may be worthy or
debasing, but in so far as the people of a locality are acting together
in the support of various common causes they are living as a community.
Just as the character of an individual is determined by his life
purposes and the degree to which he conforms his behavior to them, so
the highest type of community is that in which its people are
consciously loyal to the common welfare and are "coming to act together"
for the common good. Like the character of an individual, the community
is in process of becoming; it necessarily exists on an unconscious
basis, due to locality and heredity, but the strength of the community
is measured by the degree to which its members become voluntarily loyal
to common purposes.
Outside of early New England the circumstances of settlement of the
United States were not conducive to community development. Most of the
country west of the Alleghanies was settled by individuals who secured
their land from the federal government and whose prime allegiance was to
the nation. The federal government was the outgrowth of a revolution for
the right of self-government. Liberty and Freedom were its watchwords
and the conditions of life of the pioneer settlers and their rapid
spread over one of the richest natural areas in the world favored
individual independence. It was the natural reaction from the previous
domination of a feudal aristocracy. For over a century our national
philosophy has been dominated by a doctrine of rights, and only recently
have we come to perceive that if democracy is to function in a complex
modern civilization, there must be an equal emphasis on duties. This is
the significance of the present interest in instruction in citizenship
in our schools.
Most of us hardly appreciate how complete a reversal of the organization
of rural life was involved in this sudden domination of individualism.
Primitive agriculture was made possible by men associating in small
village communities for defense and mutual aid. Their whole system of
agriculture, until very modern times, was controlled and directed, not
by the individual or family, but by the community. The typical peasant
community of Russia or India was in many respects but an enlarged family
and its economy and social control were based upon the customs of the
family. Indeed, historically the community was the outgrowth of the
enlarged family or clan. It is not surprising, therefore, that the
peasant's first loyalty is to his community. The nation or state is far
away and beyond his ken; his patriotism is for his home village. So Park
and Miller in their discussion of immigrants' attitudes say: "The
peasant did not know that he was a Pole; he even denied it. The lord was
a Pole; he was a peasant. We have records showing that members of other
immigrant groups realize first in America that they are members of a
nationality: "I had never realized I was an Albanian until my brother
came from America in 1909. He belonged to an Albanian society over
here."[98]
Prior to the last century the whole social organization of rural life in
the Old World was built up around the community. The family, the
community, and the state were the primary forms of human association.
Obviously, therefore, when families dispersed over the new territory of
the United States with no community ties and with but few contacts with
the national government, there was a lack of that social organization to
which the people had been accustomed and through which their whole mode
of life, their customs and moral code had been built up. These forms of
human association, the family, the community, the state, have been built
up very slowly through centuries of human strife and suffering; they
represent the experience of the race as to the best means of adjusting
human relationships. Break down an essential feature of the structure of
human society, as was done when American settlers abandoned community
life, and men are compelled to find new methods of meeting their common
needs and of maintaining standards of conduct essential for their common
welfare. Had it not been for the influence of the school and the church,
rural life over most of the United States would have inevitably
degenerated, for wherever there is no form of associated control there
humanity reverts to the level of the brute. Human life is what it is
because for countless generations mankind has been learning how to
adjust itself through association so that larger opportunity for the
individual is secured through a larger measure of well being for all.
The devotion of the American settler to his family eventually
necessitated his association for advantages which could be secured only
through collective action. When he had subdued the land and established
his home, when he commenced to raise farm products for market rather
than primarily for support of the family, when better communication gave
more contacts with the town and city, the farm family developed new
wants and interests which could only be satisfied through association
with others. We have already indicated the processes whereby the
economic situation, religious life, public education, the need of local
government, and the desire for recreational facilities, are inevitably
drawing the people of the countryside together at the natural centers
into communities. The locality group is again recognized as essential
for the best organization of rural life. But the new rural community is
a voluntary group, it is not determined by common control of the land or
by common subjection to a feudal lord as was the village community of
the old world; its people are free to come and go where and when they
will. The community can compel only through the power of public opinion
and its success must depend upon the voluntary loyalty of its people.
Thus the strength and the weakness of the community lies in the loyalty
of its people. No community can permanently succeed whose people
associate in it merely for the advantages which they may gain. There
must be a genuine willingness to give as well as to receive, a real
desire to do one's share for the common life. Human association cannot
succeed on a basis of organized selfishness. The joy of family life
arises from the fact that each member is devoted to all and is willing
to sacrifice personal interests for the family; without such devotion
and sacrifice the true home is impossible. Just because human nature has
arisen through long ages of association, man finds no permanent
satisfaction in pursuing his own selfish interest; his greatest joy is
found in his devotion to others. All human association therefore depends
upon loyalty and the higher and more complex the association, the more
essential is the loyalty of its members. As Miss Follett has well said,
"Loyalty means the consciousness of oneness, the full realization that
we succeed or fail, live or die, are saved or damned, together. The only
unity or community is one we have made of ourselves, by ourselves, for
ourselves."[99]
Here social science and religion agree upon the ultimate objectives of
life. Professor Josiah Royce has shown[100] that the ideal of
Christianity, the Kingdom of God, is but a universal community, what he
calls the "beloved community," which is made possible through the
loyalty of all to love and service. There is a fundamentally religious
sanction to community loyalty and only an essentially religious motive
will inspire men to sublimate personal interests in devotion to the
community. Only through loyalty to the highest ideals of community life
can the Kingdom of God be realized on earth. No conceivable cataclysm
could make its existence possible without the voluntary allegiance of
mankind, for the Kingdom of God is the kingdom of love; it can exist
only as the minds and hearts of men are devoted to it. Nor can the
community universal, the "beloved community," be achieved except each
local community adjusts its own life to the highest social values. The
community movement is but a means whereby the ideals of democracy and
religion may be given concrete expression in a definite locality. Unless
these ideals can be applied to local areas where it is possible to
achieve some measure of common life, of community, there is little
probability of their realization in the world at large.
But these higher values of human life cannot be brought about by a mere
process of organization. They require the dynamic of a religious
conviction in the hearts of men. The Gospel and life of Jesus of
Nazareth furnish the essential inspiration for that spirit of loyalty
without which all organization is in vain. Professor E. C. Lindeman has
ably expressed this in his discussion of the relation of the Community
and Democracy:
"The most formidable foe of Democracy, however, is the
confidence which people place in schemes and plans and forms
of organization. What the social machinery of our day needs
is spiritual force to provide motive power. The modern
Community Movement will fail to give Democracy its practical
expression if it is not motivated by a spiritual dynamic.
Such a dynamic force was unloosed with the message and life
of Jesus of Nazareth. He lived his life on the basis of
certain basic democratic assumptions, and He scientifically
demonstrated those assumptions. In His eyes all individuals
were of value; through the social implications of His
message sin became democratic and the burden of all; in His
aspirations all humankind were included. He assumed that
Love would solve more problems than Hatred. He even assumed
that to have a human enemy was a social anomaly. And He
believed that religion was essentially a system of behavior
by which the individual need not be swallowed up in the
group, but by which the individual must find ultimate
satisfactions in spiritualizing the group."[101]
Community loyalty will give rise to a true provincialism which will do
much to give smaller communities a satisfactory status and to make them
more independent in their standards and purposes. It is common to deride
provincialism, but what we deprecate is the inability of the provincial
to associate with the outside world, and the city man may be as
"provincial" as the farmer from the back hills. True provincialism, on
the other hand, is essential to the progress of civilization. The
tendency of city life is toward imitation and reducing life to a dead
level. Eccentricity may be objectionable, but without individuality of
persons and communities life would be stupid and monotonous. There is
probably no greater need for strengthening rural life than a community
loyalty which will prevent the unthinking imitation of urban life and
will take justifiable pride in local ideals and achievements. The need
of a larger appreciation of the value of a true provincialism has been
well described by Professor Royce in his essay on "Provincialism":
"Local spirit, local pride, provincial independence,
influence the individual man precisely because they appeal
to his imitative tendencies. But thereby they act so as to
render him more or less immune in presence of the more
trivial of the influences that, coming from without his
community, would otherwise be likely to reduce him to the
dead level of the customs of the whole nation. A country
district may seem to a stranger unduly crude in its ways;
but it does not become wiser in case, under the influence of
city newspapers and summer boarders, it begins to follow
city fashions merely for the sake of imitating. Other things
being equal, it is better in proportion as it remains
self-possessed,--proud of its own traditions, not unwilling
indeed to learn, but also quite ready to teach the stranger
its own wisdom. And in similar fashion provincial pride
helps the individual man to keep his self-respect even when
the vast forces that work toward industrial consolidation,
and toward the effacement of individual initiative, are
besetting the life at every turn. For a man is in large
measure what his social consciousness makes him. Give him
the local community that he loves and cherishes, that he is
proud to honor and to serve, make his ideal of that
community lofty,--give him faith in the dignity of his
province,--and you have given him a power to counteract the
levelling tendencies of modern civilization."[102]
Community loyalty is largely dependent upon leadership. There is a
reciprocal relation between loyalty and leadership; leaders inspire
loyalty and loyalty incites leadership. Thus the amount of leadership in
a community and the willingness of its people to assume leadership are
good indices of community loyalty, and the willingness to work under
leaders is its crucial test. The leader is essential to group activity.
Without a leader group activity is difficult or impossible. If men are
to act together effectively some one must be spokesman and director.
Lack of leadership has ever been one of the chief handicaps of rural
life as compared with that of the town and city, and with the growth of
organization the need of rural leadership is increasingly apparent.
Until very recently the vocation of agriculture has had but little call
for leadership. Successful farming required strict attention to the work
of the farm and leadership brought no pecuniary advantage to the farmer
as it did to the business or professional man. Furthermore there seems
to be an innate desire for equality among farmers and a disinclination
to recognize one of their number as in any degree superior, which
discourages the development of leadership among them. The town and city
place a premium on leadership and a position of leadership gives a
status which is coveted; but for the farmer any position of leadership
is a burden or a public duty rather than an opportunity. For this reason
the control of government, education, religion, and all the larger
associations of life has been largely in the hands of urban leaders.
This has been inevitable and the lack of representation of the farmers'
interests has been incidental to the nature of his vocation.
Whenever the need of adjustment to new conditions becomes sufficiently
acute as to demand action for the preservation of interests of any group
of men, the cause creates leadership; leaders either come forward or are
drafted and the successful leaders survive through a process of natural
selection and receive recognition and support. This is what is now
occurring in American agriculture. New conditions have forced farmers to
organize for coöperative marketing and are necessitating the better
organization of the whole social life of rural communities for reasons
which have been previously indicated. With better education and with
more contacts with city life, farmers have come to appreciate that if
they are to compete with other industries and if the rural community is
to have a satisfactory standard of living, they must develop their own
leadership and that those who are qualified for leadership cannot be
expected to devote their time to the business interests of their fellows
unless they are adequately compensated. On the other hand, there is
gradually developing a new sense of responsibility for assuming
_voluntary_ leadership in community activities, and a larger
appreciation of the need of leadership and the duty of supporting it.
One of the greatest benefits of the Extension Service and the Farm
Bureau Movement is the definite effort to develop local leadership and
the large measure in which this has been successful. The demonstration
work and coöperative organizations produce a new type of leader, for he
must be one who is successful in his own farm business and who
understands the better methods of agricultural production and marketing
if he is to be able to interest others in them and to wisely guide the
policies of his group. The successful agricultural leader must first of
all be a good farmer, for the basic ideal of his group is the best
agricultural production. Not infrequently an unsuccessful farmer who is
a good talker comes into prominence because he is willing to devote more
time to public affairs, but he rarely attains a position of real
leadership in his own community, for being unable to manage his own
business he is unable to wisely direct that of the community.
Unselfish leadership is the highest form of community loyalty and is
essential for permanent community progress. There are obvious
satisfactions in leadership, but the true leader must have a clear
vision, a strong purpose, and intense faith in his people, if he is not
to become discouraged by the lack of loyalty in others and their slow
response to his ideals. For the true leader must always be thinking in
advance of his community. It is his function to see what is needed for
the common good and then to gradually convince the group, and he must be
willing to withstand the criticism and rebuffs of those who are as yet
unwilling to sacrifice temporary personal advantage for the common good.
The real leader will not attempt to do everything himself but will
constantly seek to discover leadership in others and to inspire them
with his own enthusiasm and faith in their ability. Not infrequently
this involves the supreme test of leadership, for the leader must be
responsible for the failure of his helpers, and although he may feel
that a given undertaking would be more certain of success were he to
assume direct responsibility for it or place it in the hands of some one
who has demonstrated his ability, yet because of his belief in the
distribution of responsibility as essential for a strong community and
because of his faith in the individual and in the undertaking, he takes
the risk and lends his influence to the success of the other. The
discovery and training of leadership is one of the chief concerns of the
true leader. Witness the devotion of the Master to the chosen Twelve and
his willingness to leave his whole cause in their hands.
The willingness to assume leadership is the acid test of community
loyalty, for only through the development of a maximum of leadership can
the best life of the community be achieved. Every citizen has some
ability which qualifies him to lead some group, however small it may be,
or however humble the cause. Indeed the highest type of community is one
in which there is a conscious direction of community purposes through a
body of leadership which is divided among all its members, so that each
feels responsible to the whole community for the success of his share of
the common enterprise and has satisfaction in his contribution to the
common achievement. In last analysis the success of the community rests
upon the loyalty of its people as measured by their willingness to
assume leadership in whatsoever capacity may best serve its interests.
As the farm people of the United States have more contact with towns and
cities and as through better education and means of communication they
come into a larger participation in all the ranges of human culture,
they come to realize that only through collective effort can they secure
many of their new desires. Although many associations for special
interests attract their allegiance, their attachment to a locality and
their common relation to the existing center of social activities, give
rise to a devotion to the community, for only through the united effort
of all interests can they realize their highest desires. Loyalty to the
family is broadened into loyalty to the community, which finds its
incentive and dynamic in devotion to the family. The family becomes less
self-sufficient, but through its wider associations in the community,
the relations of the members of the family to each other assume new
and--because they are more largely voluntary--higher values, and the
family attains its highest development through the larger fulfilment of
its members.[103]
The farmer no longer glories in his isolation, or magnifies the virtues
of independence, for new conditions require the coöperation of the whole
community if farm life is to be made satisfying. Willingness and ability
to work with others for the common good win social approval. Next to
devotion to the family, loyalty to the community is essential for the
realization of the best possibilities of rural life.
COMMUNITY SERVICE[104]
"Strong, that no human soul may pass
Its warm, encircling unity,
Wide, to enclose all creed, all class,
This shall we name, Community;
"Service shall be that all and each,
Aroused to know the common good,
Shall strive, and in the striving reach
A broader human brotherhood."
FOOTNOTES:
[97] "Balancing Country Life," p. 60. New York, Association Press, 1917.
[98] "Old World Traits Transplanted," p. 145. New York, Harpers, 1921.
[99] Mary P. Follett, "The New State," p. 59.
[100] "The Problem of Christianity."
[101] "The Community," p. 74. New York, Association Press, 1921.
[102] Josiah Royce, "Race Questions and Other American Problems," p. 65.
[103] For "through the process of limitation the family attains a
completeness impossible before. Its members may not realize within it
what is in truth the life of the family, for it now retains alone within
its limits that principle of mutual affection of husband, wife, and
children which alone is its _exclusive_ possession."--R. M. Maciver,
"Community," 2 ed. p. 242. London, Macmillan & Co., 1920.
[104] Sarah Collins Fernandis, Survey. February 8, 1919.
APPENDIX A
Constitution of Plainsboro Township, New Jersey.[105]
CONSTITUTION
ARTICLE 1.--NAME
The name of the organization is the Community Association of Plainsboro
Township.
ARTICLE 2.--OBJECT
The object of this Association is to carry out the Declaration of
Purposes as subscribed to by the residents of Plainsboro Township, New
Jersey.
ARTICLE 3.--MEMBERSHIP
Every resident of Plainsboro Township has the right to membership in
this association and to participation in discussion at its meetings, and
every citizen has a vote.
ARTICLE 4.--COMMUNITY COUNCIL
A council of seven members shall be elected to carry out the will of the
community as expressed in open meetings and to act for the community in
minor matters and all emergencies. But all decisions affecting the
material welfare should be made in open meetings of the community.
The council shall designate one of its members as president, another as
secretary, and another as treasurer, and these persons shall serve
respectively as community president, secretary and treasurer.
The members elected at the first community meeting shall serve until
their successors are elected at the first meeting in the month of
January, and thereafter members shall be elected for one year and serve
until their successors are elected.
ARTICLE 5.--MEETINGS
There shall be an annual meeting in the month of January, ten days'
notice of the date being given by the council.
At this meeting reports shall be made by all township officers of their
respective duties.
At this annual meeting, and at all other meetings when requested, the
council shall make report of its proceedings.
A regular community meeting shall be held at a date conforming to the
law respecting the nomination of candidates for Township offices.
Other meetings shall be held upon call of the council, or upon notice
signed by ten citizens and posted at the usual place of meeting ten days
prior to the date of meeting.
Twenty voting members shall constitute a quorum for the transaction of
business.
ARTICLE 6.--DUTIES OF THE COUNCIL
The council shall advise with all township officials in the performance
of their duties. It shall determine and initiate matters concerning
health, thrift, home ownership, community protection, village
improvement, coöperation with outside organizations, and all other
matters of community interest.
It shall prepare and propose township and community budgets from time to
time for consideration.
It shall suggest a ticket for nominees for township offices, posting the
same ten days prior to meeting of community when nomination shall be
made.
It shall also make provision for posting of nominations that may be made
by groups of ten or more citizens.
The council shall faithfully carry out the will of the community as
determined in public meeting.
ARTICLE 7.--DEFINING "CITIZENS"
The word "citizen" and "citizens" as used in this constitution, shall be
interpreted as referring to any person and persons who would have the
right of suffrage if equal suffrage prevailed.
ARTICLE 8.--AMENDMENTS
This constitution may be amended at any community meeting by a
three-fourths vote of the members present, provided an exact copy of the
proposed amendment has been properly posted at the usual place of
meeting ten days prior to the date of meeting.
FOOTNOTE:
[105] As given by Alva Agee in the National Stockman and Farmer, July
26, 1919.
INDEX
Adams, Bristow, 105
Adams, H. B., 199
Adams, Thos., 228
Advertising, community, 66
Age of community's people, 31
Agricultural colleges, 107;
extension, 108
Agriculture, goal of, 61;
in schools, 98-99
American Farm Bureau Federation, 115
Americanization, 30
Amusements, commercial, 158
Angell, Norman, 70
Associations and organizations, 212
Athletic leagues, 162
Atkeson, T. C., 170
Atkinson, H. A., 163
Atwood, M. V., 104
Automobile, influence of, 41, 50, 157
Bands, 176
Banker-farmer, 50
Belleville, N. Y., 34
Beloved community, 136
Bengtson, Amalia M., 147
Bidwell, P. W., 68
Boardman, John R., 17
Boys' and girls' clubs, 119, 163;
organizations, 162
Boy Scouts, 163
Brunner, E. DeS., 136
Burritt, M. C., 109
Butterfield, K. L., 2
Business, farm, community aspects, 58-66
Camp Fire Girls, 163
Capital, local, 50
Cemetery association, 179
Centralization of buying power, 73
Chamber of commerce, county, 56
Childhood, play and, 155
Child placing, 190;
welfare boards, 191
Church and health, 138;
play, 163;
recreation, 133;
federation, 127;
rural, 121-136;
social program of, 132
Cities, 54;
health, 137
City, effect of, on farm, 68-70;
vs. country, 70
Claghorn, Kate Holladay, 186
Clock System Rural Index, 231
Communication, 37-45
Community activities, 217;
association, Plainsboro Township, N. J., constitution, 247;
buildings, 165-167;
legislation for, 204;
center, 7
Community chests, 215;
churches, 127-129;
councils, 6, 215, 220;
defined, 7, 9, 10;
etymology, 37, 77;
experience, 65;
forests, 230;
incorporation, 204;
mapping, 6;
organization, 89, 209-221;
of extension service, 116;
people, 29-33;
planning, 222-233;
pride, 57, 223;
school districts, 203;
score card, 116;
service, 245;
vs. home, 24-25
Competition, dogma of, 49
Conflict and progress, 48
Collective bargaining, 74
Coöperation and community, 77-90;
business democracy, 86;
Danish, 87;
in farm operations, 77;
strengthens community, 87
Coöperative buying, 51, 79-81;
companies, essentials of, 78;
credit, 81;
educational League, 98;
manufacture, 63;
marketing, 74;
selling associations, 83;
stores, 53, 54, 80
County agent movement, 109;
boards of public welfare, 191;
health officer, 146;
library, 102;
manager, 202
Country church, 123;
life commission, 110;
weekly, 105
Dadisman, A. J., 33
Dane Co., Wisconsin, 30
Daniels, John, 30
Darwin, Charles, 49
Decentralization of industry, 54
Defectives, 183
Delinquency, 185-186
Democracy, 207, 239
Demonstration agent, 109;
method, 110
Denominational rivalry, 127
Dependent, 181-195
Dewey, Evelyn, 165
Disadvantaged, 181
Doctors, country, 141
Douglas, H. Paul, 204
Dramatics, 27, 160
Dutchess Co., N. Y., health survey, 140
Education, 91-105;
objectives of, 95;
religious, 99
Educational methods of extension work, 116
Exchange of goods, 68
Exploiter, 58
Extension movement, 107-120;
service, of schools, 95-96;
work, methods, 116
Family, 15;
life, 23
Farm bureau, 112-115
Farmers clubs, 174;
coöperative demonstration work, 110;
institutes, 107;
organizations, 170-174;
union, 174
Farming types, effect of, 61
Farm loan act, 82;
management, 65
Federated church, 129
Feeble-minded, 184
Fire companies, 177
Fiske, John, 155, 196
Fernandis, Sarah Collins, 245
Follett, M. P., 238
Frame, Nat T., 116
French Creek, W. Va., 32
Gale, Zona, 179
Galpin, C. J., 6, 135
Gibbons, C. E., 186
Gillette, J. M., 62
Girl Scouts, 163
Government, rural, 196-208, 214
Grange, 170;
buildings, 166
Grading in marketing, 71-72
Gross, Karl, 155
Halsey, Abigail F., 161
Harvey, Mrs. M. T., 165
Hatch Act, 107
Hayes, A. W., 93
Health centers, 151;
community, 137-152;
economics of, 139;
farmers attitude on, 138;
officials, 145;
surveys, 140, 143, 147
Hieronymous, R. E., 234
High schools, 94;
Danish, 100
History, community, 33;
local, 34-35
Hoag, Emily F., 34
Home bureau, 118
Home bureau creed, 119;
demonstration work, 118;
economics, 24;
farm, 14-28;
play in the, 156;
project, 25, 98-99
Hospitals, 149-150
Husbandman, 59
Industries in villages, 54
Insects, a community problem, 64
Justice of peace, 188
Juvenile courts, 188
Kidd, Benj., 27
Kile, O. M., 115
Kingdom of God, 135, 238
Kirkwood, W. P., 103
Knapp, S. A., 109
Kolb, J. H., 30, 91
Kropotkin, P., 49
Leadership, 117, 218, 241;
church, 126
Lee, Joseph, 155
Lewis, Sinclair, 101, 222
Library, 45;
public, 100
Lindeman, E. C., 169, 220, 239
Lodges, 174
Lowell, G. J., 172
Loyalty, community, 234-245
Lumsden, L. L., 144
Maciver, R. M., 245
Macklin, Th., 63, 85
Mann, A. R., 194
Markets, effect of, 67-76
Martin, O. B., 109
Maternal mortality, 142
Mormons, 121, 197
Morrill Act, 107
Moving pictures, 45, 158
Nason, W. C., 167
Nasmyth, George, 49
Nationalities, 29
Neglected, the, 186
Neighborhood areas, 91;
defined, 9;
social center, 92
Newspaper, country, 103-106
Nourse, E. G., 68
Numbering farms, 231
Nurses, rural, 147-149
Organization, rural, difficulty of, 44
Organizations of rural community, 169-180
Orchestras, 177
Overchurching, 125
Pageants, 36, 161
Parent-teachers associations, 97-98
Parks, 230
Park, R. E., and Miller, 236
Patrons of Husbandry, 170
Personality and play, 154
Physical education, 162
Plainsboro, N. J., incorporation, 205, 247
Play and recreation, 153-168;
festivals, 156
Plunkett, Sir Horace, 12, 87, 88
Poe, Clarence, 81, 202
Poor officer, 187
Population, changes, 32;
density of, 31
Postal service, 43
Poverty, 181, 182
Powell, G. Harold, 84
Pratt, Edwin A., 80
Provincialism, value of, 240
Public speaking contest, 96
Public welfare boards, 191
Race problems, 29, 30
Railroad, effect of, 39;
stations, 224
Rankin, W. S., 145
Recreation, 153-168;
church and, 133
Red Cross, 151;
home service, 134, 191-192;
nurse, 149
Religious life of the community, 121-136;
education, 99, 130
Renville Co., Minn., health survey, 147
Roads, 40, 225, 227
Rochdale system, 79
Rodent control by communities, 64
Royce, Josiah, 238, 240
Rural organization, 89;
planning committees, 230, 231
Russell, Geo. Wm. ("A.E."), 63, 75, 89
Ryder, E. H., 202
Sandy Spring, Md., 35
Sanitation, 143-144
School, 91-100;
consolidation, 93-95;
nurses, 147;
play in the, 161;
social center, 96, 165
Settlement of community, 38
Shaw, Albert, 197
Sims, N. L., 218
Smith-Gordon and Staples, 88
Smith-Hughes Act, 94
Smith-Lever Act, 111
Smith, Ruby Green, 119
Social center, 8;
organization, 209;
work, agencies for rural, 187;
of minister, 134
South, community in the, 4, 10
Specialization in agriculture, 61-63
Standardization in marketing, 71
Stewart, C. L., 60
Stores, country, 50-52
Sunday school, 123-124, 130-131
Telephone, 43
Tenancy, 59
Tompkins Co., N. Y., churches, 125
Town planning, 223
Township, 196
Transportation, effect of, 39, 67
Union church, 128
Values of rural life, 16, 17, 61
Vienna, 69
Village communities, 3, 235
Village and farm, 46-57
Village, incorporated, 199;
plan, 224;
square, 225
Visiting teacher, 189
Waugh, Frank A., 223
Warren, G. F., 65
Wilson, Warren H., 58, 121
Woman, farm, position of, 19-22
Woman's Christian Temperance Union, 178
Young Men's Christian Association, 162
Young Woman's Christian Association, 162
THE FARMER'S BOOKSHELF
Edited by
KENYON L. BUTTERFIELD THE FARMER'S BOOKSHELF
Edited by DR. KENYON L. BUTTERFIELD, President, Massachusetts College of
Agriculture. Each $1.25, by mail, $1.35.
The changing conditions and new problems in rural life are known in a
general way through newspaper and magazine articles, but few books have
appeared which show what a force the farmer is and will continue to be
in national and international life. This series is to contain books by
men who know the farmer as well as the subject; while written primarily
for rural leaders and progressive farmers they are interesting also to
anyone who wants to keep up with contemporary history.
THE GRANGE MASTER AND THE GRANGE LECTURER
By JENNIE BUELL
An account of the origin and ideals of the Grange and of what this
organization has done and is doing. It also gives practical suggestions
for future development. Miss Buell had been active in the work of the
Grange for 36 years. From 1890 to 1908 she was State Secretary of the
Grange in Michigan, then lecturer until 1915, when she was again elected
State Secretary.
"We have never read a book on The Grange which contains more practical
information. Every member should read this book, and we should like to
have it read by town and city people, too."--_Rural New Yorker_.
THE LABOR MOVEMENT AND THE FARMER
By HAYES ROBBINS
The labor question of factory and town crowds in upon the farm on every
side--in the price of almost everything the farmer buys, in the freight
he pays, in the higher wages and shorter hours he must bid against for
help. This book gives us the labor movement as it actually is, and what
it proposes, as it affects especially the farmer.
For twenty years Mr. Robbins has been studying industrial problems. At
one time he was connected with the New York Central Railroad, and in
1905 he undertook organization of the Civic Federation of New England,
devoted to the betterment of relations between employers and employees.
During the war he assisted in the organization of the Committee on Labor
Advisory Commission to the Council of National Defense.
THE COUNTY AGENT AND THE FARM BUREAU
By MAURICE CHASE BURRITT, Vice-Director Extension Department, New York
State College of Agriculture, Cornell University.
Despite its prominence during the past few years, the county agent farm
bureau movement is not fully understood or appreciated either by the
general public or by farmers themselves. This book describes in detail
the work of the county agent and farm bureau and gives an historical
sketch of their development.
THE FARMER AND HIS COMMUNITY
By DWIGHT SANDERSON, Head of the Department of Rural Social Organization,
New York College of Agriculture, Cornell University.
The rapid spread of the rural community idea, due in part to the recent
work of county agents and county farm bureaus, calls for a book which
describes in plain terms just what this idea means and just how important
it is in rural progress. This book does these two things in a way that
promises to make it an important contribution to the farmers' thinking.
THE AGRICULTURAL BLOC
By HONORABLE ARTHUR CAPPER
An authoritative review of the difficulties and economic changes that
led to the present situation in the United States Senate and an account
of the present program among agricultural leaders. Senator Capper is the
recognized leader and proper spokesman of this movement.
IN PRESS
COUNTRY PLANNING
By FRANK A. WAUGH, Head of the Division of Horticulture and Professor of
Landscape Gardening, Massachusetts Agricultural College.
Country Planning is not a fad involving the expenditure of sums of money
for useless "frills" but is a practical means of getting better results
with money that must be expended in such changes as disposition of lands,
the location of roads, the furnishing of playgrounds, forests, and school
grounds, etc. How these changes may be wisely directed is told in this
book.
IN PREPARATION
OUR SOIL WEALTH
By DR. J. G. LIPMAN, Director of the New Jersey Agricultural Experiment
Station.
THE FARMER AND THE WORLD'S FOOD
By A. E. CANCE
THE FARM MOVEMENT IN CANADA
By N. P. LAMBERT
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| Transcriber's Note: |
| |
| Typographical errors corrected in the text: |
| |
| Page 8 necessarly changed to necessarily |
| Page 48 parisitic changed to parasitic |
| Page 52 enterprisng changed to enterprising |
| Page 85 considerbly changed to considerably |
| Page 183 hispitals changed to hospitals |
| Page 214 dominaton changed to domination |
| Page 251 Bengston changed to Bengtson |
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