Part 10 (1/2)
If it should happen that Jimmy is generally admitted brave beyond his years, with the one exception of fearing darkness, and that exception traceable to a nurse-maid's influence, the mother of Jimmy is rejoiced; and a strong light is thrown on the nurse question. If it prove that by general opinion there is a lack of courage such as should belong to his years, there is cause for special study and special action in this line. Most valuable of all, the habit of observing a child's behaviour as an expression of character is formed.
The six mothers would of course meet to compare notes, preferably in evenings, when children were all in bed and fathers could be present; and the usual difficulty of leaving home in the evening could be met in such an important case as this by engaging some suitable person to come in for an hour or two and stay with the sleeping little ones.
All such details would have to be arranged according to personal and local conditions; but the end to be attained is of such enormous value that considerable effort is justified in reaching it. Even in the beginning, a usefulness would be found in the united interest, the mutual helpfulness of the combined women, drawn together by the infinite and beautiful possibilities of their great work. In the light of other eyes, they would see their own children in new lights, and, by careful following of agreed lines of treatment, soon learn with some finality what would and what would not be useful in a given case.
The observations and experiments of one earnest group of mothers like this would be a stimulus and help to uncounted thousands of ungrouped mothers who are struggling on alone.
It is by such effort as this, such interchange of view and combined study, and the slowly acc.u.mulating record of established facts, that humanity progresses in any line of similar work,--in floriculture or horticulture or agriculture, or what you will; and this greatest of all our labours, humaniculture, sadly lacks the application of the true social law,--in union is strength.
The child needs not only love, but wisdom and justice; and these grow best in the human soul through combination.
XII.
MEDITATIONS ON THE NURSE-MAID.
”The trouble with these household problems which vex women so much is that we do not give our minds to them sufficiently,” said earnest little Mrs. Blythe. ”Now I mean to give my mind to this nurse-maid problem, and work it out.”
It is high time that somebody did. And it is not only on my own account: this is something which affects us all,--all who have nurse-maids, that is. I suppose the mothers without nurse-maids have their problems, too; but I must consider mine now.
Now what is the matter with the nurse-maid? She does not suit me. She has palpable faults and deficiencies. I want a better nurse-maid. So far I have trusted to the law of supply and demand to produce her, but it does not seem to work. I demand her, just as I have demanded a better housemaid for some time; but the supply is not forthcoming. So now I mean to think it out, and see if I cannot find a way to the invention, discovery, or manufacture of a better nurse-maid. And I mean to be very clear and logical in my thinking about it, so as to come out in the end with proof. I want to prove what is the matter with the nurse-maid and how to make her better.
In the first place, what are my objections to the nurse-maid now? She is careless and irresponsible. She is ignorant. She is ill-mannered.
She is often deceitful. I can't trust her.
Now it doesn't seem right that my child should be placed in the care of an ignorant, ill-mannered, careless, and irresponsible person,--even if not also untrustworthy,--does it? And it does not relieve me of the care as it ought. I have to take care of the child and the nurse-maid, too. What I want is a careful, responsible, wise, well-mannered, honourable young girl. She ought to have special training, too. It is really dreadful the way these ignorant girls undertake to care for children. We need schools--training schools--and diplomas. They could have practice cla.s.ses on the children of the poor--or in inst.i.tutions; and yet that idea does not quite suit me, either. My child is very individual and peculiar, and I don't believe that practising on poor children would fit a nurse-maid to take care of my child. But nice people would not want their children to be practised on. They would have to take the poor ones: it would do them good, anyway. They get no care now: their mothers are shockingly ignorant and neglectful.
But, after all, I don't have to arrange the training schools. I only know that she ought to have special training, and it ought to be practical as well as theoretical; and that means practising on some children somewhere, somehow. And they certainly would have to be poor, because rich people would not let their children go to be practised on. Maybe the poor people would not, either. Then it would have to be orphans, I guess, combining nurse-training schools with orphan asylums, and foundlings, too.
Well, now these nurse-maids would go to these training schools to improve themselves, would they! Come to think of it, they only go to nursing because they need the pay; and, even if the training schools were free, they'd have to wait longer for their money. And, if they got no more with training than without, they would not go, I'm afraid.
We should certainly have to pay them more trained than untrained. That is perfectly logical, I'm sure. And, of course, that would be an obstacle. If the training schools were not free, we should have to pay them more yet,--enough to make it worth while to study the business of caring for children. A short course might do,--six months or a year.
I've heard my mother say that she knew something about taking care of children by the time Charley was born. But that was,--well, I was eight, and I'm the third,--that was about twelve years. Oh, but she wasn't in a training school! That would teach them faster. There would be more children to practise on. Let me see: if it took my mother twelve years to learn by practising on five children (Charley was the fifth,--four children), how many children would it take to learn on in one year? I'll get John to do that for me: I'm not good at figures.
Besides, it's different,--altogether different; for my mother was a mother, so she knew how, to begin with, and nurse-maids are not.
So--to be strictly logical--it ought to take nurse-maids longer, I'm afraid. The training schools will have to be free: I'm pretty sure of that. And that means public or private endowment. We might as well think it all out clearly.
Should it be added to the public-school system,--open to all girls,--perhaps compulsory? Why not! Why wouldn't it be a good thing for all girls to know something of the care of children? But could we do that? Public schools are in politics; and that is awful. It would take forever to get it that way; and my child wants a nurse-maid now!
Private endowment, I guess. So many rich people want to help the ma.s.ses. This would furnish employment, raise wages, and give us nurse-maids. I'm sure it would appeal to any philanthropist.
Yes, some rich person must endow a training school for nurses,--that sounds like hospitals; for child-nurses,--that sounds like wet-nurses; for nurse-maids,--why need they be maids, though? Well, if they were married, they would have children of their own of course, and couldn't take care of ours. One would think, though, that motherhood would give them more experience,--that they would know how to care for children better. But, then, they wouldn't want to leave their own children to take care of ours. And they couldn't take care of them together. A mother would naturally do more for her own: she wouldn't be fair.
A training school for nurse-maids. After all, ”maid” does not mean ”unmarried” in this connection: it means simply ”servant.” And ”nurse”
comes from the time when mere nursing was all that was required,--a kind of a survival of old customs. How these things do open up, when one thinks about them! Why ”nurse-maid” at all! Why not have a new and attractive name: that would help make them go to the training school, too.
Nurse, nursing,--it isn't nursing our children want. They are not sick, and they don't stay babies all the time they need this person.
What is it that our children need? Of course, they do need direct, personal care; and, when they are babies, they need real ”nursing,”--just somebody to--to--well, they have to be fed,--and that only needs a knowledge of infant physiology and nutrition; to keep the bottles clean, of course, and be very accurate, and follow directions.
They don't need to know so much after all: the doctor tells what to give it to eat and what not to. And the mother understands the child's needs! Still, even for babies, they need some kind of training,--the nurses, I mean,--not the mothers: it is divinely implanted in the mother. And, then, mothers are studying these things now. I know ever so many young mothers who are taking child-study now; and about nutrition, too.
But the trouble is they can't depend on the nurses to carry out instructions. If they were only trustworthy! Will the training schools make them honourable? I suppose so. They would get some sense of the importance and dignity of their work. They would be graded and marked, of course, in their diplomas, so that one could pick out the dependable ones; and that would gradually elevate the standard. The trouble is, of course, when they go out. Children must be out of doors; and, in cities where we have no yards, they cannot be under the mother's eye, so they must be out with the nurse-maid. That's perfectly logical. Then there are the other nurse-maids. One cannot keep them isolated: that's out of the question. And if they have admirers, as they do, of course,--young girls always will have admirers, and training schools will not alter that,--why, if they meet their admirers, it has a tendency to make them careless. That is natural. We must allow for such things. And it is a perfectly natural temptation to take the baby to see their own families. We forbid it, of course; but I admit that it is a temptation. And there are all those awful risks of diseases and things. Now, if their families were nicer people and lived in nicer places,--but then they wouldn't want to be nurse-maids! But if the training school raises wages and standards, that will have an effect on the cla.s.s of people who take up the work.
It certainly is the n.o.blest, most beautiful, most important work in the world,--the training of children. I wonder why our own girls do not take it up,--our college girls. But then, of course, they wouldn't be ”nurse-maids.” Perhaps, if it had another name--