Last week, our study of the the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory culminated with a visit to the former Asch building, located next to Washington Square Park. Here are some examples of the students’ poems that the visit inspired.
Protest
by Olivia Rose Bagan
I’m just a 10 year old girl
Walking
And walking
And walking.
On a hot summer day in April 5th on 1911
I walk past my old factory.
Burnt as it is.
Boring and burnt.
Till I see the other side.
100,000 women striking for better conditions in factories.
Yelling
And yelling.
I join them
Yelling
And yelling.
I hear sirens
Bee-do!
Bee-do!
Bee-do!
Police make their way through the crowd.
Breaking bones.
Crack!
Crack!
Crack!
I want to run.
But they finally reach me.
They grab me and everyone else
And shove us in a paddy wagon.
So warm.
People breathing down my neck.
Finally out.
Handcuffs around my wrists.
Click!
Six broken ribs
Ow!
Ow!
Ow!
Ow!
Ow!
Ow!
Thrown into a cell.
Locked.
I hear someone coming…
Click!
Click!
Click!
The union leader,
Bails me out.
I see Mama and Papa too!
I run.
Hugs,
Kisses,
Love,
Family.
Home:
Stuffy,
Warm,
Dirty,
Stinky.
But as long as I have my parents
I’m fine.
Because the most important thing in a family is:
LOVE.
THE END!
Untitled
by Cooper
Darkness emerges from the building.
Light then sorrow then pain.
Crack shatter boom.
Some live,
some die,
some are reborn,
some are undead.
So many things going straight through my head.
Again.
Scene
by Zachary Cappadocia
Walking home
feeling bad
hearing screams
when seeing
seeing windows
big and small
but puffs of smoke
out to tall
seeing a firetruck
people fall
feel dry and
kind of small
black smoke finale
pouring through
people ran
very confused.
The Fire
by Polly
Loud people screaming
fire burning all around
a horrible place that is scary and weird,
146 people gone forever,
picketing people,
screams and shouts,
orange, red, yellow
fire, fire, fire
burn, burn, burn,
police,
oh-no,
gone.