The shame of not having enough money to buy soap MEETS the shame of being too 'low' to use soap.
And it always comes down to the woman. No matter how poor, no matter how depressed, no matter how beaten (literally), no matter how hungry, no matter how uneducated... she is the one that has to scrub the front step clean, even if she only has water to do it.
Because dirt is the devil of being poor. And a dirty woman is a slut. I always find it interesting that slut moved on to be something else (dirty steps = loose morals) but slavern stayed the same.
We owned the corner shop. I suppose one reason I saw all this so clearly is that every came into the shop, and everyone was served.
But not everyone was treated equally.
So I saw the casting out of the low, first hand, every day.
Literally. We lived in the poor block. It's where the shop was. But we had broken glass cemented into the tops of the walls in the back yard to keep the rogues out!
And every woman had a standing and every woman knew what it was.
It was why my illegitimacy had to be covered up at all costs. We were on the 'decent' side. And an indecent child did not fit.
Which is why, of course, I was shipped out every day to a private catholic school miles away. So 'no one would know'. Hah! But that's another story. :-)
no subject
And it always comes down to the woman. No matter how poor, no matter how depressed, no matter how beaten (literally), no matter how hungry, no matter how uneducated... she is the one that has to scrub the front step clean, even if she only has water to do it.
Because dirt is the devil of being poor. And a dirty woman is a slut. I always find it interesting that slut moved on to be something else (dirty steps = loose morals) but slavern stayed the same.
We owned the corner shop. I suppose one reason I saw all this so clearly is that every came into the shop, and everyone was served.
But not everyone was treated equally.
So I saw the casting out of the low, first hand, every day.
Literally. We lived in the poor block. It's where the shop was. But we had broken glass cemented into the tops of the walls in the back yard to keep the rogues out!
And every woman had a standing and every woman knew what it was.
It was why my illegitimacy had to be covered up at all costs. We were on the 'decent' side. And an indecent child did not fit.
Which is why, of course, I was shipped out every day to a private catholic school miles away. So 'no one would know'. Hah! But that's another story. :-)