SEPTEMBER 1925
Page Thirteen
THE UNITED AMERICAN
quick disentanglement as the American girl stood back
a pace and surveyed with sudden severity the Irish
girl before her.
“Ah, Mamie,” throbbed the American girl, in
instant pity. “Ah, Mamie, dear, where have you
been ?”
It was not for Mamie to know that on the very
peak of her mass of fair hair rested a flower-strewn
hat with a round brim as wide as the front porch of
the Lakeview House at Soakemall Lake in the Cat
skills. No, not for Mamie. Nor could she know that
the peach-like bloom of her pretty Irish cheeks was
not countenanced in modern America. Her blue eyes
gazed back their innocent question. Yes, Mamie was
pretty as she stood there with her bags beside her,
as pretty a pink-cheeked colleen as ever tripped
through Ellis Island.
Then began the Americanization of Mamie. With
a two-handed grip like a football tackle, her American
friend seized the flowery hat affair, squeezed the brim
to a strip and pulled the whole thing down over the
head and ears of the newcomer until her blue eyes
were scarcely visible beneath the inverted coal scuttle
that once had been a hat. Then, after a quick look of
appraisal, a giant vanity box appeared from nowhere,
and—puff, puff, puff! Here and there, high and low,
the American girl is powdering the pretty face of
the Irish girl until the old sinners hard by begin to
shift nervously beyond sneezing range. Rub, pat,
swab! The finishing touches are applied, even to the
daub of raw red that serves as a semaphore to those
who still look for lips that can laugh. And now the
deed is done. Mamie is swabbed. Mamie is Ameri
canized. Off they go together, and let no one say
that to-day an American has failed to wreak Ameri
canization upon a foreign friend at the very first
opportunity.
In other words, is everything about America, past
and present, so undeniably good that when we take
up “Americanization” our aim is to make the arriving
aliens exactly like ourselves, in every way, shape
and manner ? Must we do all the Americanizing
ourselves, by our own pattern ? Is there nothing at
all that they do better than we? Are we Americans
past all improvement? Or is it fairer to the foreigner
to lead him gently into those American ways, principles
and traditions that we all put down as good and right,
and then leave him a little leeway of fondness for
things foreign that are not necessarily bad just because
they are different? Yes, I think so. After all, it is
the foreigner who is being Americanized. He is part
of the process.
For instance, I cannot see anything baleful about
a string of red peppers hanging out of a window the
way they do in Italy. Nor would the brightness of a bed
of Dutch tulips make me fear for the future of America.
And the rosy cheeks that come out of the mist-blown
hillsides of the north countries—oh, take a look yourself
at those lads and lasses as they trip down the gangplank
and into America, and then tell me if they bode ill
to the Uniform States of America! For my part, I
say, my horse for a touch of Nature’s color, a bit of
beauty, a lilt of song to relieve the drab machinery
of modern American life that so standardizes us
all! Let it come, that foreign flower for our
fields, and let it bow and dip and spring upright
again under our American winds, so that life is
brightened again for us toilers passing by! We need
all we may get of beauty and grace from afar, even
though it be foreign and “different!” If we would
crush these individual notes out of the American
lives of our in-coming foreigners—just because they
are not “American”—then we are crushing something
that is in the foreigner himself. We are killing some
thing that is as much a part of him as his heart and
head, something that he loves—that she loves—that
their little ones have already learned to love. We
are beginning our Americanization work by ignoring
the fact of the foreigner’s very eyes. For it is only
his own eyes—not ours—that he has with which to
look through. And we shall have to look with him
a little, through his own eyes for a bit as we stand
beside him, before he can come along with his share
of the give-and-take, and look at his life through our
American eyes, first a little, then more and more.
He is ready enough to come along with his share, if
only we give him a chance. But there must be a
partnership. He cannot do it all alone. There must
be a partnership.
*
•
•
If we may go ahead then as partners, we discover
at once that in recruiting the partnership there are
ninety-five million native-born residents of America.
Of the latter, half have become American citizens
by naturalization, and half are still aliens, but there
are certainly ten million of the fifteen who are not
yet really Americans. Irrespective of that hurry-up,
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