HCM550 Critical Thinking Writing Rubric - Module [4]

HCM550
Critical Thinking Writing Rubric - Module [4]
Exceeds
Expectation
Meets Expectation Below Expectation Limited Evidence
Content, Research, and Analysis
21-25 Points 16-20 Points 11-15 Points 6-10 Points
Requirements Includes all of the
required
components, as
specified in the
assignment.
Includes most of
the required
components, as
specified in the
assignment.
Includes some of
the required
components, as
specified in the
assignment.
Includes few of the

required
components, as
specified in the
assignment.
Content Demonstrates
substantial and
extensive
knowledge of the
materials, with no
errors or major
omissions.
Demonstrates
adequate
knowledge of the
materials; may
include some
minor errors or
omissions.
Demonstrates fair
knowledge of the
materials and/or
includes some
major errors or
omissions.
Fails to
demonstrate
knowledge of the
materials and/or
includes many
major errors or

omissions.
Analysis Provides strong
thought, insight,
and analysis of
concepts and
applications.
Provides adequate
thought, insight,
and analysis of
concepts and
applications.
Provides poor
though, insight,
and analysis of
concepts and
applications.
Provides little or no
thought, insight,
and analysis of
concepts and
applications.
17-20 Points 13-16 Points: 9-12 Points 5-8 Points
Sources Sources go above
and beyond
required criteria
and are well
chosen to provide
effective

substance and
perspectives on
the issue under
examination.
Sources meet
required criteria
and are adequately
chosen to provide
substance and
perspectives on the
issue under
examination.
Sources meet
required criteria
but are poorly
chosen to provide
substance and
perspectives on the
issue under
examination.
Source selection
and integration of
knowledge from
the course is
clearly deficient.
Mechanics and Writing
5 Points 4 Points 3 Points 1-2 Points
Demonstrates
college-level
proficiency in

organization,
grammar and
style.
Project is clearly
organized, well
written, and in
proper format as
outlined in the
assignment. Strong
sentence and
paragraph
structure, contains
no errors in
grammar, spelling,
Project is fairly well
organized and
written and is in
proper format as
outlined in the
assignment.
Reasonably good
sentence and
paragraph
structure, may
include a few
Project is poorly
organized and
written and may
not follow proper
format as outlined
in the assignment.
Inconsistent to
inadequate

sentence and
paragraph
development,
Project is not
organized or well
written and is not
in proper format as
outlined in the
assignment. Poor
quality work;
unacceptable in
terms of grammar,
spelling, APA style,
and APA citations
HCM550
Critical Thinking Writing Rubric - Module [4]
APA style, or APA
citations and
references.
minor errors in
grammar, spelling,
APA style, or APA
citations and
references.
and/or includes
numerous or major
errors in grammar,
spelling, APA style

or APA citations
and references.
and references.
Total points possible = 105
Just Poor Enough: Gilded Age Charity Applicants Respond to
Charity Investigators
Author(s): Brent Ruswick
Source: The Journal of the Gilded Age and Progressive Era,
Vol. 10, No. 3 (July 2011), pp.
265-287
Published by: Society for Historians of the Gilded Age &
Progressive Era
Stable URL: https://www.jstor.org/stable/23045137
Accessed: 23-03-2020 03:48 UTC
REFERENCES
Linked references are available on JSTOR for this article:
https://www.jstor.org/stable/23045137?seq=1&cid=pdf-
reference#references_tab_contents
You may need to log in to JSTOR to access the linked
references.
JSTOR is a not-for-profit service that helps scholars,
researchers, and students discover, use, and build upon a wide
range of content in a trusted digital archive. We use information

technology and tools to increase productivity and
facilitate new forms of scholarship. For more information about
JSTOR, please contact [email protected]
Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of the
Terms & Conditions of Use, available at
https://about.jstor.org/terms
Society for Historians of the Gilded Age & Progressive Era is
collaborating with JSTOR
to digitize, preserve and extend access to The Journal of the
Gilded Age and Progressive
Era
This content downloaded from 129.15.14.45 on Mon, 23 Mar
2020 03:48:13 UTC
All use subject to https://about.jstor.org/terms
Just Poor Enou gh: Gilaea Age
Charity Applicants Respond to
Charity Investigators'
Brent Ruswick, University of Central Arkansas
This article examines the strategies used by charity applicants
of the 1880s to present them
selves in ways most likely to win relief from the Indianapolis
Charity Organization Society
(COS), while also preserving autonomy from an organization
willing to use threats of star

vation or institutionalization to force compliance from the
poor. Investigators treated charity
applicants as objects to he scientifically observed and
categorized and then molded to conform
to middle-class mores, but the applicants' responses ranged
from accommodation to complete
defiance. Successful applications to the COS ultimately
depended more on the vagaries of the
investigator than on the strategies chosen by the applicant.
Those applications often led to
decisions that illustrate the draconian, punitive tendencies
suggested by the leading theoretical
treatises in the scientific charity movement. However, they also
reveal instances where charity
applicants guided investigators toward more generous
decisions.
Mary D., a fift y-year-old willow, known to tier neighbors as "a
half -crazed
needy old woman," was starving.2 Not knowing where else to
turn, in June
1881 she wrote the mayor of Indianapolis, explaining:
Mayor Grubbs—I have written to you once before, but
received no answer. Tbere was a lady called to see me and
said or rather ashed me if I had written to you. She declined
to tell her name, said any one that saw me could see I was

Til e author would like to thank the staff of the Indiana
Historical Society, Addie Bailey and Alicia
Suitt at the University of Central Arkansas's Torreyson Library,
and Dave Daves at the UCA
Department of History for their assistance in the researching of
this article and the UCA
Department of History for its financial assistance. The article
benefited greatly from the insi ghtful
comments of two anonymous reviewers, whose efforts are much
appreciated. I am also grateful to
friends, family, and colleagues, who contributed more
intellectual and moral support than I can
adequately acknowledge here.
2 At the request of the Family Service Association of Central
Indianapolis, last names and other
identifying characteristics of charity recipients have heen
abbreviated to protect their anonymity.
The journal of the Gilded Age an d Progressive Era | 10:3 Jul.
2011 doi:10.1017/S1537781411000053 265
2020 03:48:13 UTC
not able to work, yet did not do anything for me. I have lived
in the city 17 years, worked when I was able. My object in
addressing you is to have you come to see me, or send
some one that you have confidence in, to see my suffering
condition and relieve me. I am unable to work. I have noth

ing to eat and nothing comfortable. I would prefer to see
you, but if you cannot come, please send some responsible
person to see me as soon as you receive this. Come to my
room No. 8 and oblige Mrs. Mary D.^
Unable to make kouse calls, tke mayor instead forwarded tke
request to tke
Indianapolis Ckarity Organization Society (COS), a group
created in
Decemker 1879 to evaluate cases of alleged distress ky
researcking tke kis
tories of ckarity applicants and investigating tkeir present
circumstances,
tkereky distinguisking cases of true want from fraudulent
claims. Tke
Indianapolis COS was among tke earliest, longest lasting, and
most closely
studied of over 100 organizations in towns and cities across
America dedi
cated to tke principles of a new reform movement known as
"scientific
ckarity." Tke movement developed in tke late 1870s in
response to tke
economic and social instakility tkat accompanied tke nation's
rapid industri
alization and urkanization.
Indianapolis's residents knew those phenomena well. The
flexible relations
between economic classes that characterized Indianapolis into
the 1860s
deteriorated ami d tk e economic turbulence of tke 1870s,
sparking fears
of social disorder or even revolution. Historian Frederick
Kerskner noted

tkat altkougk tke city kad skarp, strong class divisions entering
tke
1870s, "social amalgamation was more ckaracteristic tkan
social cleavage.
Rick and poor still moved in tke same world, consciously aware
of one
anotker as individuals."4 Instead, divisions ran along etknic
and religious
lines, ranging from anti-German and Irisk sentiments to anti-
klack rioting.
Religious affiliation mattered more tkan political allegiance,
witk Metkodists,
3Charity Organization Casebook, 1880, BV 1198, Family
Service Association of Indianapolis
Records 1879—1971, Collection # M 0102, Indiana Historical
Society, Indianapolis [hereafter
"COS 1880"], Case Record 132. Because Charity Organization
Society volunteers regularly
updated entries to the casebooks, an application filed in 1880
might include updates, like this
one for Mary D, extending well into the decade. On the history
of begging letters, see Ruth
Crocker, "'I Only Ask You Kindly to Divide Some of Your
Fortune With Me': Begging Letters
and the Transformation of Charity in Late Nineteenth-Century
America," Social Politics:
International Studies in Gender, State, and Society 6 (Summer
1999): 131—60.
Frederick Doyle Kershner Jr., "A Social and Cultural History
of Indianapolis, 1860—1914" (PhD
diss., University of Wisconsin-Madison, 1950), 19
266 | Brent Ruswick | Just Poor Enough: Gilded Age Charity

Applicants Respond to Charity Investigators
2020 03:48:13 UTC
then Baptists and Presbyterians claiming the largest number of
prac
titioners.5 Population grew from 18,611 to 48,244 during the
1860s,
however. This 160 percent growth rate, matched only hy San
Francisco
and Chicago, was spurred hy Indianapolis's position as a
railroad huh.
Rapid growth tended to erode the level of interclass cohesion
evident earlier.
The introduction of new wealth also threatened the privileged
position of the
pre-Civil War elite. As the city expanded, social divisions
acquired geo
graphic manifestations, as the rapidly sprawling neighborhoods
segregated
along economic and ethnic lines.^ Moreover, as was common in
northern
cities right after the Civil War, real estate and railroad
speculation fueled
Indianapolis's post-war hoom, making the city vulnerable to the
financial cri
sis that began in 1873. Regional crop and bank failures made
matters worse.
By 1875, with unemployment and poverty rapidly spreading,
Indianapolis

residents discovered that they did not always know who was
poor, or why,
or how to manage and alleviate their poverty.7
In response to suck problems, scientific charity advocates
sought to establish
private charitable organizations in every town and city that
wou Id act as cen
tralizing bureaucratic hubs, investigating all applicants for
charitable relief in
order to sift out tbe unworthy and unreformable poor. "Friendly
visitors"
would enforce among tbe poor tbe middle-class babits of bard
work, mod
esty, tb rift, and cleanliness tbougbt to be lacking among tbe
lower classes.
Tbese volunteers would report to relief committees tbat would
further inves
tigate tbe applicants in order to ensure tbat only tbe minimum
amount of
relief necessary went to tbose truly in need. By tbis metbod
they thou ght
charity would not reward laziness and thereby demoralize the
industrious
among the poor; instead it would coerce or even compel
participation in
the new wage-based economy of an industrialized society.®
These precepts
merged with the pro-science enthusiasm common among
several strands of
American reform ranging from the social gospel movement to
social

5IW., 19-20.
U.S. Bureau of the Census, Fifteenth Census of the United
States, 1930: Population (Washington,
1931), 18-19; Kershner, "Social and Cultural History of
Indianapolis," 19, 39, 54, 95.
Kershner, "Social and Cultural History of Indianapolis," 39, 54,
95; Emma Lou Thornhrough,
Indiana in the Civil War Era, 1850—1880 (Indianapolis, 1965),
274—78, 559; U.S. Bureau of
the Census, Tenth Census of the United States, 1880: Wages
(Washington, 1886), 42, 62, 76,
142, 385—86, 414—15, 442, 465. James H. Madison notes that
while the city experienced
great population growth, its residents were much more likely th
an other city dwellers to settle
permanently. James H. Madison, The Indiana Way: A State
History (Bloomington, IN, 1986),
177-78; Clift on J. Pkill ips, Indiana in Transition: The
Emergence of an Industrial Commonwealth,
1880-1Q20 (Indianapolis, 1968), 469-70.
Amy Dru Stanley, Beggars Can't Be Ch oosers: Compulsion
and Contract in Postbell um
America," Journal of American History 78 (Mar. 1992): 1265-
93.
The Journal of the Gil Jed Age and Progressive Era | 10:3 Jul.
2011 267
2020 03:48:13 UTC

Darwinists, promising that objective investigation and
categorization of the
poor would reveal scientific laws explaining the causes and
proper treatments
of their poverty and dependence.
In their pursuit of evidence of the causes of poverty, friendly
visitors and inves
tigators quizzed a relief applicant's neighbors, extended family,
employers,
church leaders, and their children's teachers. In Indianapolis
they examined
the records of the Center Township trustee, the official
responsible for deter
mining need and providing public relief, and they worked to
share records with
other private charities. Visitors showed up unannounced to
investigate the
applicant's home, looking for any sign that mi ght be used to
disqualify an appli
cant as unworthy of relief or unable to benefit from it. In the
gridded standard
ization of ledger entries they documented the struggles of the
poor. These
application forms included entry blanks for the applicant's
name, present
and former addresses, time spent in the city, and assistance
requested. Other
requested information was the family members' names, ages,

and schools; rela
tives in the city who might offer support; occupations and
addresses of employ
ers; weekly income; character references; and all other present
sources of relief.
Several blank lines followed for recording the statement of the
applicant or an
intercessor, foil owed by a longer section where investigators
entered reports
from the police, employers, clergy, schoolmasters, physicians,
other relief
agencies, and the date of the report. In some cases a file opened
in 1880
might contain records transcribed from applications made to
the Center
Township trustee in the 1870s, then f urther updates in the
report section
spanning the 1880s. Finally the form gave space for the relief
decision. In
principle, the COS did not itself administer relief but instead
acted as a gate
keeper to other charitable agencies, advising them of whether
relief should be
given.^ In two pages of ledger, the COS could conceivably
record the entire
employment and residential history of a family, the opinions
and interactions
of the family's neighbors, friends, co-workers, and employers,
as well as the
family's history of encounters with the criminal and charitable
institutions of
the city. These intrusions drew justification from the vision

widely held
among reformers of the Gilded Age that charitable gifts and
their intended
recipients must be disciplined—scrutinized scientifically—as
the word was
then understood. Only through such strict measures, they
contended, could
they thwart the menace of pauperism, or willful dependence on
charity.
^For instance, Olivia Sage of the Russell Sage Foundation use
d the New York Ch arity
Organization Society to evaluate the merit of each of the
thousands of individual letters she
received each year ashing for charitable assistance. Ruth
Crocker, Mrs. Russell Sage: Women's
Activism and Philanthropy in Gilded Age and Progressive Era
America (Bloomington, IN, 2006),
203-07.
268 | Brent Ruswick Just Poor Enough: Gilded Age Charity
2020 03:48:13 UTC
Given the presumption that the applicant might be a con or
have habits that
brought about his poverty, oftentimes the only possible source
of evidence
that scientific charity investigators failed to consider was that
offered by the

poor, themselves.
Record No. /v.
;| a-—.*,.'t~uu.cu,<£»-*•
11 .*:^r~ i
.
••» . ...:-.•
»«—»-'•' 5&ro. - ^ -rf ■ « *, /f~yo, A^r 2^
„ v -hull- liLi 7«îc Is seL*. L+XL-Cj, —^*- ,
"""*"* ">**<*/•. /'^t ,**yo "&r- ifn ■■ ^ £< V «t«^
. £%ly.a -vô ^C*L MtUfo •&■ ■■■/ £• l»«t«^y /• « « «-'^
/•»«■ rn?k *^« t-» l-'sj"<lrfv .h «* ,»«... -»»■* '^•, 9^4"*
+++J- *•'
+/>tf4** 'w * i » *.«y »■ ._ dijt, -v'c»«. ^*.-7?^,. ■ /..' — „ t^
_ —,'-■*- -£-*~-*^.
t— '*•*+*% d-+-fv-ry£— ^ ~ "-r-ff&t- /*t/-J+££ if / ', r . v •
*<yvasfzy g*4- **tr *-$<■^y/* *■> *> *»- ■
" —' SU*+++* .AJ+-<r r».*
4^m jtf>r, /c—vud -kiû^.f€.(^f)
T*. wwli, •kauij »- «*• «<»•> »f f»p**tinf i«i»rm.i(» rmm
rrkllt* in lv» >•- f,.m 1, miw «, fmin. « urwm. |, iwul .ml >crr~f
i«,4. b.
—i "-'— * " Li,m»w*4ewl«ri t.tnwr p.f—. •. ffcpmta: », lîuliv
omf.i'. tufart.

fltfxrtt ^
| , /tf- at/»c S.I ?
+*t(j &**(& < A i-u+xsf^t tsC ^fZ. a. i*(. ~ 6^4 /f*>
t A^0*^ iu fa 3-4/ 7&x4,/+i< C&xenSj. ri^t
Figure 1. COS Casebook entry for Tk omas O., begun Marcb 8,
1880. Courtesy of tbe
Indiana Historical Society.
10COS 1880, Case Record 14.
The Journal of the Gilded Age and Progressive Era | 10:3 Jul.
2011 269
2020 03:48:13 UTC
It)
M of lurtwum",
M ./
(fee ■ * P ■ : ■** •C'5"1 '■ ' ■''! -
ikifJtTt, 1if > *>$;.■.c _ /
■ j fm-j». la***
die lt*i tlfrnsii, n"
mZ- "j&:. ■
J-/ V. /-*/ <2^.,,
/sfutA- ;■■?<■■*!.

M. fiUX. y fc*. /uM. AiCUttsC, SM.
|/ft^c K.t-c. ,'iut MiJ <,<u Un wm*,. •&*>>«,.1 itA<. auM/t.
&*£' &**%, ZutsC ..
yU' it ^ I |j J m ! I Aîuhu. (ftopt &Ot "<L<^k2 4x £* S&. £c
C*nti
h .:.■■■ 'ft. ■:■■■'• %*-■ > >/ - ' ; LUSî.'... .
/ A.lJ- ?■//■?/-$* H'ce.U $-r ■'7-./L& '«/ , .... „ . .... . _
•iC .Ji/( Jiudhpt. 1 »h .WAfC t-u/k, &X ti ~}Uo /c$
T„d« :Jk Tm,ZQl. €r4, .,,3?
^ ... , » , l*-i-i-+yb£ "4^ ^
IuauL 4n ,A*l. rule/i ct kfo , s<rfulli . jwtUu, * ' ", ^ /£....*.
iftil#]') * prt t t'. AsC a, MZ, tU£r Mtitt 6-»> >>y jbi. iyJL
ft/blO- ^r>->*sC
juJbjL dXtr^yy^CLi. {rt rtu. oî ZZ
"u<* Sj,
(faiviajL
UAAU/tUt
)% n )l
MmU,
JuAaUuM
!*» *U
flu I
|itfi. uAjl
mL.v
ti

uvj.o, V
i&zyVj
faaA*U4C
fcw j fyw) &■
~ JJ/tK.£,w>uZ fflfju yKJ/VUtft
Jul.
&u. £Uc fivitvL %t Uu. Ao who
- j*t yZi"'
£i,
in*: Mr a*. 6
t/7 pioL y&cu.. /> 3J '// * 4 • $d*vt
01 ~j£u* VtyoAJe- JU*- w dru**-* ■ Jy-U*-.,
>'4/ ■ &*C. Ktij I /VjjUlJ. a. tfrrrM fru***-, twi
■ afcuo . ZfsxptJU H>
~ &y™. ,.V a*w ~k*/•.
% tbc# Jhsk 'ftUi/ei/i. /t yiM- ....
<- </ <!'*"
K(jL *. <2/td &A4s /
idvtW, £C*<.
t4 frrto tn+ayxS- & 4.. UrtUrtt^t' .
%uf. r /7'7/ 'A - >y. &u> &*C Jut. e«iic hw.'U'"- *,. <%.
'£c+C- r-n:7y'M MdL*C)6?*<. s.r
^(Uw, T 4/4*1 <f/U/T/>* 7 rJyis/>sJ^J^ US J1. fou*//ras&
O&L iriykX^J 'pfe**. '£tiib£fC r,

$ lUtji. ^ A jbnjJyO 4"^} &**dry>y, ^
WffUK. 'rtA/C f|-a. jpM t ruA~ tZjCy^yi^LjC fi&H. i*ur**4 6
>tf
$ml (LuLvH-uiL. M< "du*.<uc t trm. af^Z> . XlM* fovt.
qmamouC
%f li f/fso* 0./J, $ ,P*m4 Qsfi-ll. %/ .£&?(■, rlg4s<J'//*ri.*C
A4*-a*s fordfyn* t+M-C-C. ft£r<y
ityU fwr*. Ct*yr»> . /% ifMrt Avl' & dlut/tC***. hi 4w ? jtu/t
OlUt'Ct £***£.
h
| iU4<rit
kiA' d&wt
th. w- a
**■ •."? * fa H .fl f^t ,' y
' *,{£*»>,a. /u/mdtd* gjt*.3>(2?7',&£**&(&..... .# 'A/|'Q w'
$**£ 4 i&i
" w* tU'M '.(?./< <&&•(&**}' J ■ ■» /•'.. ->
;4,/.; u
tr ■ >* .'JTJXL.^
Figure 1. (Continued)
Tke encounters o f Mary D. and so many others first with the
township trus
tee and then the COS expose the dissent and bewilderment
among the poor
toward scientific charity and its adherents' zeal for
investigation, categoriz

ation, and discipline. Historian Michael Katz has observed that
an emphasis
on how charity organization societies acted as a "force of
authority in the
lives of the very poor" must he balanced with recognition of
poor persons'
activities as they sought to respond to the new rules of
charity.11 Less has
11 Michael Katz, Poverty and Policy in American History (New
York, 1983), 51; also Dawn Greeley,
"Beyond Benevolence: Gender, Class and the Development of
Scientific Charity in New York City,
1882-1935," (PhD diss., SUNY Stony Brook, 1995), 13-21.
2020 03:48:13 UTC
been written about bow tbe applicants wbo showed up at
cbarity organization
societies negotiated tbe new movement's efforts to transform
tbe landscape
of poor relief and tbe poor themselves. Instead, tbe scientific
cbarity move
ment bas been examined for its significance in tbe
institutionalization of
social scientific research; tbe formation of tbe modern social
work; shifts
in Americans' ideology and discourse concerning dependence;

and the rise
of the public health, social gospel, eugenics movements, and
progressivism,
to name just a few.12
The responses of the poor to the investigative methods of the
scientific
charity movement as enacted by the Indianapolis COS reveal a
set of strat
egies ranging from accommodation to outright defiance.
Through their
complaints, objections, and resistance to the new metho ds, the
poor brought
to light and challenged core assumptions of the movement, like
the trite
optimism professed by scientific charity's theoreticians that
objective investi
gation could quickly sort applicants into distinct categories of
the worthy
poor and unwortky paupers and tkat tkeir work would rebuild
interclass har
mony amid the strike-riddled 1870s an d 1880s. In the ways
they rep
resented the causes of their misfortune, histories, living
conditions, and
needs, as well as their personal characters and gratitude, the
poor further
learned to adapt to the new rules of charitable relief, sometimes
seemingly
knowing the new standards better than the investigators did.
The COS vol
unteers' response to the poor furthermore highlights their
diverse and often

ambiguous interpretations of the movement's supposedly
cardinal principles,
reinforcing recent historical work presenting the movement as a
significantly
more flexible one in practice and at least slightly more
appreciative of the
12For instance, see Elizabeth Agnew, From Charity to Social
Work: Mary E. Richmond and the
Creation of an American Profession (Urbana, 2004); Nathaniel
Deutsch, Inventing America's
"Worst" Family: Eugenics, Islam, and the Fall and Rise of the
Tribe of Ishmael (Berkeley, 2009);
Ell en Fitzpatrick, Endless Crusade: Women Social Scientists
and Progressive Reform (New York,
1990); Karen Tice, Tales of Wayward Girls and Immoral
Women: Case Records and the
Professionalization of Social Work (Urbana, 1998); Kennetb L.
Kusmer, "The Functions of
Organized Cbarity in tbe Progressive Era: Chicago as a Case
Study," Journal of American History
60 (Dec. 1973): 657-78; James B. Lane, "Jacob A. Riis and
Scientific Philanthropy during
the Progressive Era," Social Service Review 47 (Mar. 1973):
32—48; Joan Waugh, "'Give This
Man Work!' Joseph ine sk aw Lowell, the Ch arity Organization
Society of the City of New York,
and the Depression of 1893," Social Science History 25
(Summer 2001): 217—46; Emily K.
Abel, "Medicine and Morality: The Health Care Program of the
New York Charity
Organization Society," Social Service Review 71 (Dec. 1997):
634—51; James Leiby, "Charity
Organization Reconsidered," Social Service Review 58 (Dec.

1984): 523—38; Genevieve Weeks,
"Religion and Social Work as Exemplified in the Life of Oscar
C. McCulloch," Social Service
Review 39 (Mar. 1965): 38—52; Stephen Tk omas Ziliak,
"Self—Reliance before the Welfare
State: Evidence from the Charity Organization Movement in
the United States," Journal of
Economic History 64 (June 2004): 433-61.
2011 271
2020 03:48:13 UTC
complex interplay of causes that create dependence than its
programmatic
statements suggest.13
Mary D. and the Fear of Institutionalization
The case record that the COS entered for Mary D. illustrates
the suspicion,
even hostility, that many charity reform groups in America felt
toward relief
applicants, tut also the efforts of those applicants to retain
some modest
amount of control over their destinies in the most difficult of
circumstances.
Mary's husband bad abandoned her without further
communication for

twelve or perhaps fifteen years when he suddenly returned and,
discovering
she had remarried, cut her out of his pension. Mary's second
hushand died
a short time after this, necessitating that from 1873 onward the
Marion
County and Center Township of Indianapolis relief agencies
support her
through the winters with fuel and an occasional payment of her
rent.
Those sources of relief however often proved unreliable,
reducing her to beg
ging. When Mrs. K., a shopkeeper, complained to the township
trustee that
she "cannot 'shake' her" from begging around her store, this
prompted one of
the trustee's agents to pay Mary a visit in November 1878.
Advised that she
would have to go to the poor house, Mary threatened to drown
herself first.
The COS first sent its own visitor in April 1880 to inspect her
circum
stances, with the trip yielding a similar conclusion: Mary D.
ought not receive
charitable relief but sh ould go instead to a public institution
like the county
asylum or the home for the aged. A visitor sent to foll ow up on
Mary's letter
to the mayor in 1881 noted that the rent was too expensive and
that Mary
D. reportedly had moved to this dwelling "because [she] got
into trouble with
the janitor" at her previous residence. The visitor was
unimpressed by what

she saw. The small room was "completely filled by old
bedding, trunks,
stove, wood," and Mary herself "was barefooted and moving
things about
without any particular object that could be discovered." Intent
on identifying
any hint of fraud, the visitor noticed that although Mary
claimed to have
gone three days without foo d, sh e "saw some new biscuit and
cold victuals
in a trunk, evidently given her," a sin of omission that Mary D.
th en
acknowledged. Again she swore that she "won't go to the P. H.
and even
if it is made decent to live in, will commit suicide first." While
she proposed
that the COS help her find a room somewhere "on a floor where
there is
13See esp. Agnew, From Charity to Social Work; Joan Waugh,
Unsentimental Reformer: The Life of
Josephine Shaw Lowell (Cambridge, MA, 1997), 93; Brent
Ruswick, "The Measure of
Worth iness: The Rev. Oscar McCulloch and the Pauper
Problem, 1877—1891," Indiana
Magazine of History 104 (Mar. 2008): 3—35; Greeley,
"Beyond Benevolence."
| Brent Ruswick | Just Poor Enough: Gilded Age Charity
2020 03:48:13 UTC

water," the agency decided that unless Mary D. had a change of
mind about
going to an institution, she did not need further aid.14
Mary D.'s refusal to move to the poor house, at the time a sign
of her pur
ported insanity or perhaps, as the COS described severa loth er
opinionated
applicants, "impudence," might instead have teen proof of her
lucidity. A few
weeks after penning her letter, in July 1881, the former
governor of Indiana,
Thomas Hendricks, argued a case before a board of
commissioners that the
Marion County Poorhouse had been mismanaged, resulting in
the abuse and
neglect of inmates. The governor a lleged that the farmer who
supervised the
poorhouse, Peter Wright, had used a cowhide to beat an inmate,
Harry
White, because White "had used careless language and was full
of fun."
Hendricks furtker claime d tkat tke professionally
inexperienced resident
physician, a Dr. Culbertson, who already had on his record an
unrelated con
viction for assault and battery, ignored the needs of the insane
residents.15
A former inmate, Ed Atkins, testified that "he had been given
the diabetes
from drinking a peculiar kind of tea" given to kim by
Culbertson, who then

wi th Wright's approval refused to provide to Atkins the
necessary medicine.
Several inmates reported suffering from substandard food and
blankets and
otker injustices and deprivations. Samuel Ckurckwell testified
that his young
child had been separated from its mother, left underclothed
during winter,
and thereby had caught a cold and died. Not all abuse came
directly from
the hands of the supervisors; an inmate described as an "insane
idiot,"
Oliver Thomas, whipped Harry White between two to six times
in reaction
to White screaming after a dog had frightened him.^
Charity reformers, many of whom were drawn to the moveme nt
hy their own
revulsion at the care offered at state charitable and correctional
institutions,
understood this fear and used it to their advantage when
dealing with relief
applicants who did not show them sufficient deference. An
African
American couple, Ezra and Milly M., had a reputation for
"complaining."
The COS record hooks included the Center Township trustee's
report that
Milly "is the woman that does so much talking at the office"
and that "if
they grumhle at . . . [receiving only] fuel, send them to the
Poor House."17
From this and their own visits, the COS concluded the family
did not
merit relief. Sarah H. similarly resisted sending her eighteen-

year-old son,
Fred, to any public institution. When a COS visitor arrived at
her house,
15"Tke Poor Farm," Indianapolis Sentinel, July 13, 1881.
"Grind ing Away," Indianapolis News, July 8, 1881.
The Journal of the Gilded Age and Progressive Era I 10:3 Jul.
2011 273
2020 03:48:13 UTC
she explained that Fred had "lost his mind" during a spell of
"brain fever" at
the age of ten. The visitor found him "simple" and "utterly
unfit to do any
thing. The proper place for him would he either the Insane
Asylum or
County Asylum." Sarah, however, refused to consent to his
institutionaliza
tion. The township trustee had noted this reluctance years
earlier and com
plained that a woman long dependent on charity ought to let the
county
dictate the terms of that relief, including sending Fred to the
poorhouse.
To Sarah, however, the trustee was a "hard-hearted hugger."
When the
COS finally took up the case, it collected testimony from

several sources
affirming she was an "industrious, honest, hard-working
woman" and decided
to offer relief during Fred's present hout of illness so that she
could pay the
rent, hut they too affirmed that afterwards the hoy must go to
the County
Asylum. The source of contention became a moot point when
the updated
entry a week later noted that Fred had died.18 That Sarah H.
and Mary
D. chose to defy the COS hy refusing to submit to
institutionalization
suggests that the poor were well aware of what awaited them in
the poor
houses and asylums and might risk starvation at home over
neglect and atro
phy in an institution.
Mary's case—and perhaps Sarah's as well—represent the face
of scientific
charity most commonly seen hy historians: a movement neither
especially
scientific nor charitable, driven to end public relief and curtail
private aid
with little scientific justification beyond a crude social
Darwinism and a
highly moralized view of poverty as an event due to single
causes, which
could he categorized either as misfortune or misdeeds.^ In their
first
years of implementing charity reform, many of the charity
organization
societies worked hard to earn the scorn heaped on them by the
poor and

more traditional charities that saw their work as mean-spirited
and insuffi
cient. The Indianapolis COS's response to John and Anna B.'s
request for
help demonstrates as much. John B.'s work as a packer for a
tobacconist
18lbid. Charity reformers saw issues of economic dependence
and mental disabilities as closely
related phenomena, and the historical evolution of reformers'
understanding and treatment of
each demonstrate their intertwined history. See James W.
Trent, Jr., Inventing the Feeble Mind: A
History of Mental Retardation in the United States (B erheley,
1994).
1 For instance, see George M. Frederickson, The Inner Civil
War: Northern Intellectuals and the Crisis
of the Union (New York, 1965); Walter I. Trattner, From Poor
Law to Welfare State: A History of
Social Welfare in America (New York, 1974), ck. 4, 75—95;
Paul Boy er, Urban Masses and
Moral Order in America, 1820-1Q20 (Camkridge, MA, 1978),
ck. 10, 143-62; Mickael Katz,
In the Shadow of the Poorhouse: A Social History of Welfare in
America (New York, 1986),
83—86, 113; and Katz, Poverty and Policy in American
History, 90—92; Marvin E. Gettleman,
"Pkil antkropy as Social Control in Late Nineteentk-Century
America: Some Hypotkeses and
Data on tke Rise of Social Work," Societas 5 (Winter 1975):
49—59; Akel, "Medicine and
Morality."
274 | Brent RuswicU | Just Poor Enough: Gilded Age Charity

2020 03:48:13 UTC
had damaged his lungs, and he had heen injured the prior
autumn when a log
rolled over him. He th en had a sunstroke and went insane. At
the time of
application to the COS, he and Anna B. had pneumonia, and a
daughter
was dying of consumption. John B. died a few weeks later,
leaving his wife
dependent on the income of her ten-year-old son who worked
for a cooper
for one dollar a week. She also received 60 cents per dozen
overa lis that she
and the youngest daughters sewed. Other than having the
Flower Mission
attend to the ill, the COS concluded no relief was needed.20
Just Enough Filth
Scientific charity leaders' fervor for suppressing charitable
fraud drew from
their belief that paupers were a group economically, morally,
and biologically
distinct from the normal poor. Using the language of heredity

and degener
ation, they perceived paupers as biologically different from and
inferior to
the rest of the population, incapable of improvement. Through
the combined
forces of heredity and environment, paupers had sunk so far
into a state of
willful dependence that they could no longer live otherwise.
Their supposed
licentious ways and aggressive pursuit of alms by any
fabrication allegedly
consumed the majority of charitable relief given and threatened
to drown
the nation in an ever-rising tide of chronic beggars. The
founder of the
Indianapolis COS, Reverend Oscar McCulloch, became a
national star of
the movement by arguing that his genealogical research into a
family that
for generations appeared on the relief rolls demonstrated that
pauperism
was an inheritable trait.^1 Such genealogical studies affirmed
the scientific
charity leaders' faith that dependence could be studied
objectively and
thereby relieved more efficiently.
McCulloch contended that unsanitary surroundings often
marked the onset
of pauperism. Scientists had proven, lie explained, "that when
the rabbit war
ren was not properly cleaned, the female hilled her young and
the male
became quarrelsome. The organism of the animal was injured
and rendered

miserable by dirt, and nervous irritability akin to insanity was
the result."
Likewise, the "sufferings and crimes" of the pauper might be
cause d by filthy
1Oscar McCull och, "Associated Charities" in Proceedings of
the National Conference of Charities and
Correction, ed. Frank Sanborn (Boston, 1880), 122—35; "The
Tribe of Ishmael: A Study in Social
Degradation" in Proceedings of the National Conference of
Charities and Correction, ed. Isabel C.
Barrows (Boston, 1888), 155—59; Deutscb, Inventing
America's "Worst" Family; Ruswick, "The
Measure of Worthiness"; Genevieve Weeks, "Oscar C. McC
ulloch: Leader in Organized
Charity," Social Science Review 39 (June 1965): 209—21;
Nicole Hahn Rafter, ed., White Trash:
The Eugenic Family Studies, 1877—1Q1Q (Boston, 1988).
2011 275
2020 03:48:13 UTC
physical conditions.^ The Indianapolis COS' s surveys of the
poor documen
ted in its 1880 record hook further indicate how investigators
used dirt and
untidiness as a source of evidence pointing toward incurable,
biologically

hased pauperism. An article hy the Indianapolis Herald placed
in the COS
file on Andrew G. warned readers of his children, who
allegedly supported
the house by be gging. Andrew G. was "a victim of hereditary
pauperism
and bad wbisky. He is a good workman spoiled by public
indulgence." His
family was "dirty, slothful, and vicious."^3
A relief applicant had to thread a narrow needle when the
visitor came to
inspect her Lome, if a home looked too well kept, it might be a
sign that
the applicant did not truly need help. A COS visitor suspected
one woman
of dishonesty because she was "very toney, dresses well."^4
More commonly,
however, the homes of the poor struck the visitor as too dirty
and decrepit, sig
nifying a lack of "industry" and desire to help one's self. In
their reports visitors
often sounded obsessed with dirt, treating it as evidence of an
applicant's
unworthy character. Eliza H., a widowed woman with two
children at home
sick with whooping cough, lived in rooms that a visitor judged
"nearly empty
and everything in a very disordered condition. Table knives
lying around
loose on the bedroom carpet and dirt and filth everywhere. Two
beds a
stove and a few chairs seemed to constitute the bulk of the
furniture. [She]

was as slovenly looking as usual and in addition looked
sickly."^® A visitor
in another case judged Marinda D.'s residence to have "a
general look of
don't care-a-tive-ness."^ Mary G. was a "lazy careless creature
not capable
of self-government or support."^ Even when a visitor judged
the living con
ditions of the poor to he a consequence of their poverty, not a
sign of pauper
ism, it did not relieve the poor of their shame. One of the
township trustee's
investigators hluntly—if perhaps correctly—remarked that the
hest that could
he done for Frank C. would he if someone hurned down "that
old shell he lives
in" and forced him to move to a healthy environment.28
Ann L.' s response to her investigators demonstrates the
difficulty in presenting a
Lome that was neither hopelessly filthy nor suspiciously tidy.
In the spring of
McCulloch, "Associated Charities," 124, 125. See Victor Hilts,
"Obeying the Laws of Hereditary
Descent: Phrenological Views on Inheritance and Eugenics,"
Journal of the History of the Behavioral
Sciences 18 (Jan. 1982): 62—77.
" COS 1880, Case Record 79
241 ibid., Case Record 198
25lbicL, Case Record 103.
2 ibid., Case Record 62.
27lbid., Case Record 63.

ibid., Case Record 105.
2 76 | Brent Ruswick Just Poor Enough: Gilded Age Charity
2020 03:48:13 UTC
1880, Ann's grandson arrived at the COS office with a letter
from Ann L. In it,
she referred to the Indianapolis Benevolent Society, the
primary charitable relief
society that took guidance from COS investigations; she
admitted that she "can
not help think it strange that societies claiming 'Benevolent'
does as they do in this
city." In response to an earlier request for aid, another charity
associated wi th the
COS, the Fl ower Mission, had sent "two young lady callers"
who promised to help
find some work sewing and bring some flowers, one of the
signature small gifts the
Mission gave the city's sic k. They never returned. Ann L.
complained:
We could starve to death waiting on them and I have heen
sick 10 mos. and never rec'd a flower from tkem. ... I

nursed 2 rick sick ladies tkat kad more flowers tkan was
any use, sent ky tke Mission ladies. We would ke glad to
get work wken akle to work; in our case it is work we
want kut Mrs. Hicks calls us paupers. If tkat is rig kt i d o
not know w kat is wrong. Tkose wko need do not get kut
tkose wko kave akundance get plenty.^
Ann L.'s letter is unusual both in its existence—poor persons'
documenta
tions of their encounters with charity organization societies can
not help
hut he dwarfed in comparison to the documentation generated
hy a group
dedicated among other things to better record keeping—-and in
its stridency.
Ann affirmed her willingness to worh and explained the
circumstance hy
which at sixty-one she could not sufficiently provide for her
"feeble" dau ght er
and grandson. Challenging the intentions or wisdom of the
COS, however,
hrou ght the risk of heing labeled "impudent," a charge of
ingratitude that
suggested one did not appreciate the obligation to prefer work
over relief
and to accept any relief with humility and a tinge of
embarrassment. The
first charity organization society in London, England, and the
many incar
nations of scientific charity and charity organization in
America all empha
sized visiting and investigating as a way of reestablishing
social bonds
between the middle classes and the poor. These bonds were to

fasten the
poor to their stations in life, extinguishing any prospects for
radicalism as
they learned instead to humbly accept manual labor for
whatever wages
they could receive and to adopt middle-class standards and
behavior as
best they could. "Industrious" and "sober" were the adjectives
most commonly
assigned to the worthy poor, and often visits to the poor
amounted to pur
portedly objective measurements of their industriousness,
sobriety, and
modesty.
9lbid., Case Record 179.
2011 277
2020 03:48:13 UTC
Those who called on Ann L. found a woman of industry and
sobriety, hut
also of sharp opinions. She washed, sewed, and nursed when
she could and
had temporarily moved to the country to seek out a living. Now
she was
"too o Id to do much." She told the last agent of the Center
Township trustee

to visit before the COS toot up the case that nursing no longer
paid better
than any other work avai lable to a woman as a glut of poor job
seekers
flooded the market. The visitors were unimpressed with this or
with her
reported explanation "that old age is creeping on, and she is not
able to
do regular housework." The COS's record on Ann L. includes
the obser
vation from the trustee's office that "rumor has it that Mrs. L.
... is meddle
some and talkative in families," which "is the cause of her
failure," and that
she was "dictatorial and talkative outside, which is against
her."30
In addition to the talkative personality that allegedly made her
an unpopular
choice for housework, Ann L. tried too hard to impress. An
October 1880
visit from the COS found "Mrs. L. . . . dressed up in a nice new
calico wrap
per and looking the 'good grandmother' to perfection. Mrs. C. .
. . [her
dau ghter] occupying a rocking chair and looking well and
happy, notwith
standing her statements ahout severe suffering after cleaning
house—her
favorite occupation." Noting the daughter's claim to do some
washing for
extra money, in spite of it heing "too hard" for her, the visitor
parenthetically

added in her notes, "A tuh was in si gkt, evidently so placed for
dramatic
effect."31 Ann L. had succeeded too well in presenting exactly
the image
COS investigators wanted to see: clean, responsible persons
willing to
work hard and adopt middle-class values. This, combined with
her meddle
some, talkative, dictatorial hahit of expressing her opinion on
the state of
charitable relief and the labor market, won for her an
unsurprising decision
of "no aid" from the COS. The charity reformers' interests in
restoring inter
class bonds left all responsibility on the poor to change their
tune.
Alth ough most COS investigators did not share the
leadership's scientific
interests or concern for the supposed biological origin of
pauperism, occasion
ally they too would present dirtiness as symptomatic of an
underlying hio logi
cal condition that gave rise to pauperism. In Anna R.'s case,
she visited one of
the COS's district offices in March 1880 to explain how her
hushand had
died thirteen years earlier working on the railroad. She added
that she did
not "think this a good city for the poor. They don't look after
the poor
enou gh." Th e record of her encounters with the township
trustee and then

°IW.
31IW.
278 | Brent Ruswich | Just Poor Enough: Gilded Age Charity
2020 03:48:13 UTC
with the COS suggests as much. The COS's investigation into
her file with
the trustee revealed tkat in December of 1876 her family was
sleeping on
a "pile of rags on the floor" and lacked "enough clothing to
cover themselves."
Anna went barefoot in the snow. She had five children from the
ages of eigh
teen to thirteen, one of whom at the time of her trip to the COS
had typhoid
fever, chills, and "lung disease." Only two or three times had
she asked for
relief from tke townskip trustee, and ske "kad always worked,"
and ker oldest
daugkter did so wken possikle. Furtker examination of tke
trustee's records
revealed tkat ske kad keen skipped to Indianapolis from
Greencastle in
1874, wkere tke local trustee kad furnisked ker witk a pass out
of town.3^
Tke old practice of passing tke poor from city to city was still
commonplace
in Gilded Age America. Indianapolis's solution for many
kopelessly poor per

sons was to pay for a one-way ticket to tke city of tkeir nearest
relatives and
kope tke destination point's townskip trustee did not send tkem
rigkt kack.33
These tragic circumstances might suggest an immediate need
for charitable
relief, and indeed the report concluded that Anna R.'s family
was destitute.
The responsibility, however, was in their own moral and
biological failings.
"This old Irish fraud depends on public charity for a living,"
which "has made
her chronic," explained the trustee's initial report from 1876.
She was a "pro
fessional liar an d beg gar." No amount of help could ma he the
R. f amily "live any
other way than like hogs. They are stable bred and cannot rise
above their breed
ing." When the COS took up her case in March 1880, its review
of the trustee's
report resulted in an initial decision to deny the family any
relief.34
Deeper investigation into Anna's circumstances belied the
claims of an easily
identified distinction between worthy and unworthy cases of
need. When a
COS visitor first called on Anna R. at her home, two months
later at the
end of May, she noted that Anna's thirteen-year-old son Johnny
worked
when he could but had "typho-malarial fever," while her oldest,

Mary, simi
larly was too ill to work. She wrote, "This combination of
circumstances has
made it necessary for her to solicit aid from the benevolent to
support her
family and pay her rent and in my opinion, under these
circumstances,
with which I am reasonably well acquainted, I think she is
deserving." In
the same entry where the visitor declares Anna R. deserving
appears an
addendum noting the contrary opinion of Father Bessonies, a
member of
the COS committee that ultimately determined who would
receive relief
ibid., Case Record 80.
Ibid., Case Record 80.
^For instance, ibid., Case Records 95, 113, 123, 193.
2011 279
2020 03:48:13 UTC
and in what kind. He found one of the daughters to he a "had
girl with "not
muck [that] could be said in her favor."35
Was Anna R. an undeserving hog, a pauper feeding from public

and private
troughs alike with ill-hehaved children inheriting her manners
as their birth
right, or was she the deserving poor, afflicted by death and
disease and old
age? The vagaries in investigators' evaluations of the poor
confounded
both the leadership of scientific charity and the poor w ho
showed up at
their door to request relief. The former earnestly thought that
poor relief
could and must be brou ght under proper scientific scrutiny and
that by
doing so they could easily sift out the paupers who had brought
about
their own troubles from the poor who suffered through no fault
of their
own. The poor, meanwhile, both struggled to present
themselves as they ima
gined the investigators desired, and they resented and resisted
the intrusions,
moral condemnations, and outright coercion. 1 he difference
between relief
and rejection often might depend on which visitor knocked at
the door.
Complaining Versus Stoicism
35IW.
Charity applicants also walked a narrow and winding path in
explaining to
investigators the severity and nature of their distress. Scientific
charity's mis
sion was predicated on the belief that the industrious, modest

poor who were
most proud of their self-sufficiency and most deserving of
relief were also
those least likely to complain or ash for relief. In contrast the
duplicitous pau
per told sensational tales of suffering in order to heg for relief
that ri ghtf ully
belonged to those who would never advertise their want. How
could one in
need of relief ever hope to gain it hy ashing, when just showing
up at the
COS office mig ht he judged as a sign of heing undeserving?
Mary D. went
to the office to ash for employment or groceries for herself and
her eleven
and nine-year-old children. Trained as a nurse, she had left her
ahusive,
reportedly insane hushand in Hot Springs, Arkansas thirteen
years earlier
and headed for Indianapolis. Her children were in the orphan
asylum due
to her inability to support them, and another child had died in
infancy
from illness. Evaluating her merit, her former employers
informed the
COS that she was "competent hut somewhat given to
complaining of her
hard life. Is learning to feel that she has a claim upon charity
and to demand
aid." The visitor advise d that "nothing more should he given
except
employment."3*'
3^lbicl., Case Record No. 160. See also Timothy A. Hacsi,

Second Home: Orphan Asylums and Poor
Families in America (Cambridge, MA, 1997).
280 | Brent Rusivick | Just Poor Enough: Gilded Age Charity
2020 03:48:13 UTC
Bringing suffering to the attention of others failed as often as
not; for an
applicant the key was to have a third party bring her case to the
COS's atten
tion and to couch the request in the most reluctant and humble
of terms.
Mary C. insisted she and her husband "never had a particle of
help from
any source. Never asked anyone. . . . Would work fingers off
bef ore would
ask. . . . Never thought would have to go a begging." The first
words entered
after the COS officer entered after taking her statement were
"A worthy
case."3"? The entry for William L. and his wife Mary began
witb the statement
of a friend asking relief on their behalf. The friend explained
that Will iam
"has kept poverty to self. No use to explain poverty to
everybody." Further
investigation by the COS turned up testimony from two of
William L's
acquaintances that he was "sober and industrious," the two
adjectives of

choice for describing worthy cases.38
The L. family almost undid the favorable testimony offered by
tbeir friends,
ironically, by appearing too congenial and appreciative. A COS
visitor, Miss
Raridan, complained tbat tbey were "very profuse in
demonstrations of grati
tude for visits." Such prostrations mi ght be the sign of paupers
thinking they
had found a naive victim to manipulate; a second opinion
would be needed
to verify their worth. The following day, that second visitor
reported that the
L.s "did not show any of the gushiness which Miss Raridan
reports on her
visit, only expressed themselves as very grateful in the hearty
English man
ner." ' The second visitor's more sympathetic interpretation of
the family's
gratitude prevailed, as they won a recommendation for relief,
even after a
neig hb or advised "don't give money. They hoth occasionally
drink heer."^
The Gossip Mill
ibid, Case Record 170.
39IW.
Given the assumption tnat many applicants were not poor but
paupers, con
genitally predisposed to lying about their circumstances in
order to win relief,

the COS dismissed virtually all testimony and explanation
offered by relief
applicants themselves. Instead tbe COS's relief committee
listened to the
supposedly more objective views of tbe friendly visitor and tbe
evidence
sbe accumulated from interviewing neighbors, schoolteachers,
and employers
concerning the applicant. Oftentimes this amounted in practice
to rumor
mongering, the COS 1 edger booh filling up with gossip
recorded as fact.
Elizabeth N. came to the COS on March 10, 1880, with news
that her hus
band, Richard, who had abandoned her on four different
occasions, the pre
sent one spanning the last five years, wanted to return. There
are no records
COS 1880, Case Record 127.
2011 281
2020 03:48:13 UTC
to indicate what investigations or actions the COS took until
December 2,
1889, when Richard N. and his new wife, Nancy, applied to the
COS for an
order of groceries. After commenting on Nancy's maiden name,

and the
name, medical history, financial history, employment status,
and church
affiliations of her first husband and children, the COS
investigator explained
that Rich ard had left Elizabeth for Nancy and lived with her
before
Elizabeth's death. Such facts were relevant to the COS's
investigators as
they might reveal well-to-do relatives who might already be
supporting
Richard and his family, making their request for relief
unfounded.
From there the records turned to Richard's personal life, one
reportedly full
of sex and violence. Rumors told "about the lady patients of a
certain Dr.
who were taken to her [Nancy's] house ... at night, and were
taken away at
night, after some days or some weeks." A talk with Harry L., a
former
son-in-law of Richard who was now divorced from the
daughter, revealed
that although he "don't like to talk ahout the fami ly," he
offered that
"N ... is a brute" and claimed that "the former wife was found
dead, on
the floor, with ugly hruises on her person and a chair lying on
her head."
Although Harry "does not directly accuse N . . . , he leaves the
impression
that he was responsible." The divorced son-in-law further
claimed that "a
14 yr. old daughter died, some yrs. ago, from the effects of an

abortion pro
cured [s/c] on her at her father's instance [s;c].' Nancy's son
from the former
marriage was either in reform school or prison due to larceny.
Concluding,
Harry insisted that Richard "is a brute and a scoundrel and his
present wife is
as bad as he. You need not fear to insist on that as you can
prove it by the
relatives of the family all of whom know the ugly facts." Such
hearsay
suggests that Ric hard N. likely had done nothing but bring
suffering upon
himself and anyone nearby, exactly the sort of man that COS
investigators
understandably sought to dislodge from the city's charitable
institutions.
However, in addition to not leaving any record of a relief
decision, the
entry on Richard N. also leaves no indication that anyone
checked in with
Richard to learn his view o f the ugly facts.40
To avoid becoming grist in tke gossip mill, an applicant mi gkt
confess her sins
to tke COS and claim to be reformed. Cynthia R. appeared at
the office on
March 18, 1880 to ask for help with the rent and explained that
she "has
heen had, but is now living a good life and intends to." She
admitted to having
taken coal each midnight from a railroad watckman wko
surreptitiously tkrew

it from tke passing train, and ske agreed to move out of ker
present
(ibiJ, Case Record 18.
2020 03:48:13 UTC
neighborhood. Visits from a Mrs. Roberts on behalf of the
COS, however,
indicated that Cynthia "has the same told, pseudo-frank
manner, persisting
that she is doing 'right' now." ' Talks wi th h er neighbors
further revealed
that they "all unite in giving her a bad name, that she is the
special terror
and disgrace of that street" and that "she is on very familiar
terms with the rail
road men." That perhaps explains Cynthia's initial admission of
receiving coal
at midnight from the watchman. Later entries include a
newspaper clipping of
her involvement in a "bastardy suit" over her second child, and
later still an
entry reporting she had married, but her husband did not live
with her because
"his parents won't leth im." In spite of her claims of reform and

penitence, the
opinions of her neighbors resulted in a denial of relief.41
Cynth ia R. had good reason to expect that her chosen strategy
of admitting
her failings and ashing for penitence would win her relief; it
had worked
before. Another applicant to the COS for relief that March,
Theodore O.,
had gone to the Center Township trustee the year before where
he "begged
for like a cur, and the trustee who knew him told [Theodore]
how unworthy
he was, what a contemptible, mean, corrupt life he had led, and
he acknowl
edge^] it all." The trustee then ordered relief for Theodore.42
What accounts
for the different results from the same strategy? Especially for
women, a
reputation for sexual adventures meant a ticket into the
"undeserving" cat
egory with even more consistency than a man's reputation for
drunkenness.
Theod ore O. for instance was "a drunkard for a husband" even
by h is own
wife's report. This also may have indirectly worked in the O.
family's
favor; although Theodore was worthless, his wife Maria could
be seen as a
quiet and worthy sufferer at her husband's side. That it was the
township trus
tee who ordered relief for the family and not the COS certainly
also might
be a factor. However, for all of the criticism scientific charity

reformers
leveled at supposedly spendthrift public officials, in
Indianapolis the trustee's
records often show even greater suspicion and hostility toward
the poor than
those of the COS. Economic historian Stephen Ziliak has
observed that the
COS and the trustee at the time, Smith King, generally worked
quite well
together.43
African American Encounters with the COS
The complicated dynamics between charity investigator and
applicant
til at often resulted in idiosyncratic and arbitrary decisions
were com
pounded when the all-white COS volunteers investigated
requests from
41 ibid, Case Record 42.
4 ibid, Case Record 14.
Ziliak, "Self-Reliance before the Welfare State," 438.
2011 283
2020 03:48:13 UTC
Indianapolis's African American citizens. Scientific charity's
leading theor

ists insisted that their charitable work must encompass all o f
the poor, not
discriminating on the hasis of race or creed. An unusual
position in
1880s America, this must he understood in reference to the
lurking pauper
menace. The dividing line between the worthy poor and
unworthy pauper
concerned scientific charity organizations far more than did
racial or
religious lines. Poor whites did not hold monopolies on either
the trait of
industry or of idleness. Similarly, persons of any race of creed
mi ght pass
on the hereditary taint of pauperism. To ensure that charity was
not stolen
from the industrious by the idle and to combat the rising tide of
biological
paupers, all must be investigated; a few movement leaders even
added the
progressive suggestion that racism mig ht be a cause of much
poverty.
Steph en Humphreys Gurteen, who advised Oscar McCulloch in
the founding
of the Indianapolis COS and authored foundational manifestos
on the prin
ciples of scientific charity, argued that "if there has been in the
past one thing
more than another that has led to pauperism and all its
attendant evils it is
the existence of denominational exclusiveness and racial
prejudice."44
McCulloch similarly showed compassion toward poor European
immigrants
in his controversial 1886 sermons defending the Haymarket
anarchists.4®

His private diary entries similarly express concern that the
injustices
inflicted on African Americans would only end through a
violent claiming
of rights 46
Unsurprisingly, person-to-person interactions in Indianapolis
did not always
meet this ideal. Nancy H.'s request for groceries included the
positive rec
ommendation of her doctor, who thought her "a soher and
industrious
woman" who was too poor to help her sick son. An inspection
of the trustee's
records of previous relief, however, indicated that the white
man she had
brought to "add force to her statements" was in fact "blacker in
character
than she is in color." Her oldest hoy was a "hoodlum too lazy
to work"
44S. Humphreys Gurteen, "Beginning of Charity Organization
in America," Lend a Hand 15 (Nov.
1894): 353—67. Also see Verl S. Lewis, "Stephen Humphreys
Gurteen and the American Origins
of Charity Organization," Social Service Review 40 (June
1966): 190—201; to the contrary, Alvin
Kogut has argue d that Af rican Americans were heyond the
purview of charity organization societies.
Alvin B. Kogut, "The Negro and the Charity Organization
Society in the Progressive Era," Social
Service Review 44 (Mar. 1970): 11—21.

45"Mr. M'Cullock and tke Anarchists," Indianapolis Journal,
undated clipping found in Oscar
McCullock Diary, Nov. 30, 1886, folder 2, box 4, Oscar C.
McCullock Papers, Indiana State
Library; also entry for May 7, 1886; Ruswick, "Tke Measure of
Worthiness," 25—28.
4 Oscar McCulloch Diary, Dec. 24, 1885, folder 1, box 4,
McCullock Papers; Stephen Ray Hall,
"Oscar McCull och and Indiana Eugenics" (PhD diss., Virginia
Commonwealth University, 1993),
228.
2020 03:48:13 UTC
and the family "a tad crew. °47 The COS file does not record
any decision
either for or against Nancy H. The hrief record of Charles an d
Milbry
B.'s application includes the trustee's earlier evaluation that
Charles "appears
an industrious darky," hut even the typically relief-winning
term "industri
ous" did not motivate the COS to follow up or to record the
verdict of its
final decision regarding relief.48
In one of the rare instances in which a COS publication
presented data that

brohe applications down along racial lines, an 1898 report
indicated that
only 34 percent of African American cases were "old" or
returning appli
cants, whereas 44 percent of white cases were. This suggests
that fewer
African Americans felt encouraged by their experience to
return to the
COS for help. An 1886 report from the trustee further supports
this
hypothesis. It stated that "negroes" accounted for 60 percent of
applicants
for public relief, followed hy the Irish at 20 percent,
"Americans" (that is,
native-horn whites) at 15 percent, and Germans at 5 percent.49
Similarly,
a tabulation of the number of follow-up visits conducted by
COS visitors
in the 1880 record booh reveals that the society revisited
twenty of thirty
seven African American applications, 54 percent, compared to
104 of 160
Caucasian applications, 65 percent. Entries in African
American cases also
appear more commonly to be truncated, with perfunctory
statements of
decision like "no relief" or "no more aid." John F.'s case
indicates only
that lie was "Col'd" and had lived in the city for three months
wi th his
wife Hester and their four children. From the COS, he received
the decision:
"No more aid needed."50 Through some combination of choice,
alternatives
sources of relief, and white indifference and racism, African

Americans
tended to go elsewhere than the COS for help.
That tendency had notable exceptions, underscoring just how
unsettled early
notions of worthiness and "objective" evidence were in the
Indianapolis COS.
Hattie L., an African American woman with three children
whose husband
had deserted her, ashed the COS for aid, having been in
Indianapolis only
three months. Her recent arrival oug ht to have been cause for
suspicion, and
her race certainly did not help her with the COS. Yet just eight
days after
visiting the COS office to request aid, the organization through
which the
COS d ispensed relief, the Indianapolis Benevolent Society,
paid Hattie
L.'s rent of $2.®* For an organization philosophically opposed
to casually
ibid, Case Record 99
49"Tke Public s Poor," Indianapolis Mews. Jan. 25, 1886.
2011 285
2020 03:48:13 UTC

handing over any sort of "material aid" tut especially financial
assistance,
this fit of generosity is unusual. More confounding are the
COS's futile
efforts to recoup the $30 they lent Swedish immigrant Oolo f
Y. to huy a
horse and wagon in order that he may resume "huckstering."52
Hattie
L. had in her favor her status as an abandoned wife who
immediately
declared her willingness to work. Oolof's case does not suggest
any such jus
tification; the COS normally scoffed at promises such as he
made of paying
hack the loan once he had regained his financial footing.
Accommodation and Defiance to Investi gation
Suck willingness to provide financial relief defies every
official pronounce
ment of anyone closely associated with the scientific charity
movement's
first fifteen years. Several historians have criticized scientific
charity refor
mers for holding principles that were perhaps Loth logically
inconsistent
and certainly inconsistently applied, and the calculus by which
Hattie
L. or Oolof Y. were judged worthy must have seemed ineffable
to Mary
D. and Anna B. as they were informed of their unworthiness.
But instead

of emphasizing the charity reformers' record of success or
failure in applying
their principles of objective, standardized investigation onto
the poor, the
work of the Indianapolis COS migkt alternately suggest tke
unanticipated
difficulty in rationalizing and standardizing a process as
complex and indi
vidualized as the negotiations between strangers over requests
for charitable
relief.
Faced with few appealing choices, many of the applicants to
the COS tried to
accommodate the investigators by showing deference to their
views of worthi
ness, as hest as those views could he deciphered. Applicants at
once professed
their dire and tragic circumstances while wearing their hest
clothing and try
ing to act as gracious hosts to unannounced visitors. The
applicants insisted
they did not expect sympathy and did not prefer charity while
trying to justify
their deservingness for each. Like joh hunters they lined up
references from
respected community leaders, especially physicians and
employers, or barring
that, at least neighbors, and they actively managed their
reputations, trying to
diminish, deflect, or deny the most damaging reports of their

behavior. Some
agreed to accept institutionalization for sick relatives or work
arrangements
suggested by the COS, no matter how menial. Others changed
or ended their
drinking habits, moved residences, or called on relatives whom
they mi ght
have preferred avoiding in order to seek help. In countless
ways the poor
51 COS 1880, Case Record 181.
52lbid, Case Record 31.
2020 03:48:13 UTC
worked to modulate their appearances and habits in ways that
they thought
mi ght win the approbation of the COS.
But b oth as objects for moral reformation and of scientific
inquiry, appli
cants for charity also proved more elusive than scientific
charity reformers
anticipated. Besides extreme gestures like Mary D.'s threats of
suicide, resist
ance took more subtle forms. Some refused to invite visitors in
to inspect

their homes or dropped their requests when they th ought the
lines of ques
tioning became too intrusive. Children begging in the streets
learned to lie to
visitors who inquired why they were not in school, or they
simply ran away.
Knowledge of the exact percentage of applicants who were in
fact trying to
live the life of a pauper, scamming charities for relief, also
remained just
out of reach: The COS unsurprisingly could not readily
coordinate charitable
relief across the city or unearth an applicant's lies so as to
extinguish pauper
ism. Hopes of restoring a bygone era of supposed interclass
harmony simi
larly died on the vine. The Indianapolis COS predicated its
work on the
assumption that the worthy poor needed and wanted to learn the
ways of
middle-class probity. On the contrary, I have not found a single
testimonial
from an applicant thanking COS visitors for their moral
guidance. Scientific
charity reformers looked at the poor as a scientific problem to
be studied,
managed, and controlled. The poor had no choice but to endure
the policy
successes of scientific charity as its advocates tightened public
and private
relief allowances in cities across America. In spite o f the
COS's efforts,
the conditions giving rise to poverty and dependence remained

far more
ambiguous, their amenability to easy categorization far more
restricted,
than the proponents of scientific charity cared to admit.
2011 287
2020 03:48:13 UTC
Contentsp. 265p. 266p. 267p. 268p. 269p. 270p. 271p. 272p.
273p. 274p. 275p. 276p. 277p. 278p. 279p. 280p. 281p. 282p.
283p. 284p. 285p. 286p. 287Issue Table of ContentsThe Journal
of the Gilded Age and Progressive Era, Vol. 10, No. 3 (July
2011) pp. i-vi, 263-391Front MatterNote from the Editor [pp.
263-264]EssaysJust Poor Enough: Gilded Age Charity
Applicants Respond to Charity Investigators [pp. 265-287]The
Eyes of Anna Held: Sex and Sight in the Progressive Era [pp.
289-327]Forum: La Follette's Wisconsin in
Perspective[Introduction] [pp. 329-330]What the Progressives
Had in Common [pp. 331-339]The Ethnic and Racial Side of
Robert M. La Follette Sr. [pp. 340-353]"La Follette's
Autobiography": The Good, the Bad, the Ugly, and the Glorious
[pp. 354-361]Fighting Bob La Follette: Visionary American
Leftist [pp. 362-368]Book ReviewsPresidents and the
Progressive Era: Two New Views of Taft and Wilson [pp. 369-
374]Contested Childhoods: Chinese American Children and the
Politics of Immigration and Assimilation [pp. 374-377]Not So
Invisible Women: Catholicism and Female Power in the
Progressive Era [pp. 377-380]Gilded Ages, Progressive Lives
[pp. 380-382]Comparative Presidential Domestic Leadership in
the Progressive Era [pp. 382-385]Theodore Roosevelt, Maker of
American Politics [pp. 385-388]The Lost Promise of
Humanitarian Intervention [pp. 388-391]Back Matter

Library of Congress
[Rose Wilder Lane]
http://www.loc.gov/resource/wpalh1.15100107
[Rose Wilder Lane]
W7263
[B????]
Accession no. W7263
Date received 10/10/40
Consignment no. 1
Shipped from [Washington?]
Label
Amount 6 p.
WPA L. PROJECT Writers’ UNIT
Form—3 Folklore Collection (or Type)
Title In autobiographical sketch of Rose Wilder Lane.
Place of origin [Missouri?] Date 1938-39
Project worker
Project editor

Remarks
Missouri 1938-39 Local history [/?] Source ? [A?]
AUTOBIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF
ROSE WILDER LANE
Library of Congress
[Rose Wilder Lane]
I was born in Dakota Territory, in a [claim?] shanty, forty-nine
years ago come next
December. It doesn't seem possible. My father's people were
English [county?] family;
his ancestors came to America in 1630 and, farming
progressively westward, reached
Minnesota during my father's boyhood. Naturally, he took a
homestead farther west. My
mothers ancestors were Scotch and French; her father's cousin
was John J. Ingalls, who,
“lie a lonely crane, swore and swore and stalked the Kansas
plain.” She is Laura Ingalls
Wilder, writer of books for children.
Conditions had changed when I was born; there was no more
free land. Of course,

there never had been free land. It was a saying in the Dakotas
that the Government bet
a quarter section against fifteen dollars and five years’ hard
work that the land would
starve a man out in less than five years. My father won the bet.
It took seven successive
years of complete crop failure, with work, weather and sickness
that wrecked his health
permanently, and interest rates of 36 per cent on money
borrowed to buy food, to dislodge
us from that land. I was then seven years old.
We reached the Missouri at Yankton, in a string of other
covered wagons. The ferryman
took them one by one, across the wide yellow river. I sat
between my parents in the wagon
on the river bank, anxiously hoping to get across before dark.
Suddenly the rear end of the
wagon jumped into the air and came down with a terrific crash.
My mother seized the lines;
my father leaped over the wheel and in desperate haste tied the
wagon to the ground,
with ropes to picket pins deeply driven in. The loaded wagon
kept lifting off the ground,

straining at the ropes; they creaked and stretched, but held.
They kept wagon and horses
from being 2 blown into the river.
Looking around the edge of the wagon covers I saw the whole
earth behind us billowing to
the sky. There was something savage and terrifying in the
howling yellow swallowing the
sky. The color came, I now suppose, from the sunset.
Library of Congress
[Rose Wilder Lane]
“Well, that's our last sight of Dakota,” my mother said. “We're
getting out with a team and
wagon; that's more than a lot can say,” my father answered
cheerfully.
This was during the panic of ‘93. The whole Middle West was
shaken loose and moving.
We joined long wagon trains moving south; we met hundreds of
wagons going north; the
roads east and west were crawling lines of families traveling
under canvas, looking for
work, for another foothold somewhere on the land. By the fires

in the camps I heard talk
about Coxey's army, 60,000 men, marching on Washington;
Federal troops had been
called out. The country was ruined, the whole world was ruined;
nothing like this had ever
happened before. There was no hope, but everyone felt the
courage of despair. Next
morning wagons went on to the north, from which we had been
driven, and we went on
toward the south, where those families had not been able to live.
We were not starving. My mother had baked quantities of
hardtack for the journey; we had
salt meat and beans. My father tried to sell the new —and
incredible—asbestos mats that
would keep food from burning; no one had ten cents to pay for
one, but often he traded for
eggs or milk. In Nebraska we found an astoundingly prosperous
colony of Russians; we
could not talk to them. The Russian women gave us — outright
gave us — milk and cream
and butter from the abundance of their dairies, and a pan of
biscuits. My mouth watered at
the sight. And because my mother could not talk to them, and so
could not politely refuse

these gifts, 3 we had to take them and she to give in exchange
some cherished trinket of
hers. She had to, because it would have been like taking charity
not to make some return.
That night we had buttered biscuits.
These Russians had broughtfrom Russia a new kind of wheat —
winter wheat, the
foundation of future prosperity from the Dakotas to Texas.
Three months after we had ferried across the Missouri, we
reached the Ozark hills. It was
strange not to hear the wind any more. My parents had great
good fortune; with their last
hoarded dollar, they were able to buy a piece of poor ridge land,
uncleared, with a log
Library of Congress
[Rose Wilder Lane]
cabin and a heavy mortgage on it. My father was an invalid, my
mother was a girl in her
twenties, I was seven yeats old.
Good fortune continued. We had hardly moved in to the cabin,

when a stranger came
pleading for work. His wife and children camped by the road,
were starving. We still had
a piece of salt pork. The terrible question was, “Dare we risk
any of it?” My father did; he
offered half of it for a day's work. The stranger was overjoyed.
Together they worked from
dawn to sunset, putting down trees, sawing and splitting the
wood, piling into the wagon all
it would hole. Next day my father drove to town with the wood.
It was dark before we heard the wagon coming back. I ran to
meet it. it was empty. My
father had sold that wood for fifty cents in cash. Delirious, I
rushed into the house shouting
the news. Fifty cents! My mother cried for joy.
That was the turning point. We lived all winter and kept the
camper's family alive till he got
a job; he was a hard worker. He and my father cleared land, sold
wood, built a log barn.
When he moved on, my mother took his place at the cross-cut
saw. Next spring a crop
was planted; I helped put in the corn, and on the hills I picked
green huckleberries to make

a pie.
4
I picked ripe huckleberries, walked a mile and a half to town,
and sold them for ten cents
a gallon. Blackberries too. Once I chased a rabbit into a hollow
log and barricaded it there
with rocks; we had rabbit stew. We were prospering and
cheerful The second summer, my
father bought a cow. Then we had milk, and I helped churn; my
mother's good butter sold
for ten cents a pound. We were paying [?] per cent interest on
the mortgage and a yearly
bonus for renewal.
That was forty years ago. Rocky Ridge Farm is now 200 acres,
in meadow, pasture
and field; there are wood lots, but otherwise the land is cleared,
and it is clear. The
three houses on it have central heating, modern plumbing,
electric ranges and
Library of Congress
[Rose Wilder Lane]

refrigerators,garages for three cars. This submarginal farm, in a
largely submarginal but
comfortably prosperous county, helps support some seven
hundred families on relief. They
live in miserably small houses and many lack bedsteads on
which to put the mattresses,
sheets and bedding issued to them. The men on work relief get
only twenty cents an hour,
only sixteen hours a week. No one bothers now to pick wild
berries; it horrifies anybody
to think of a child's working three or four hours for ten cents.
No farmer's wife sells butter;
trucks [call?] for the cream cans, and butterfat brings twenty-six
cents. Forty years ago
I lived through a world-wide depression; once more I am living
through a depression
popularly believed to be the worst in history because it is
world-wide; this is the ultimate
disaster, the depression to end all depressions. On every side I
hear that conditions have
changed, and that is true. They have.
Meanwhile I have done several things. I have been office clerk,
telegrapher, newspaper

reporter, feature writer, advertising writer, farmland salesman. I
have seen all the United
States and something of Canada and the Caribbean; all of
Europe except Spain; Turkey,
Egypt, Palestine, Syria, Iraq as far east as Bagdad, Georgia,
Armenia, Azerbaijan.
5
California, the Ozarks and the Balkans are my home towns.
Politically, I cast my first vote — on a sample ballot — for
Cleveland, at the age of three.
I was an ardent if uncomprehending Populist; I saw America
ruined forever when the
soulless corporations in 1896, defeated Bryan and Free Silver. I
was a Christian Socialist
with Debs, and distributed untold numbers of the Appeal to
Reason. From 1914 to 1920 —
when I first went to Europe — I was a pacifist; innocently, if
criminally, I thought warstupid,
cruel, wasteful and unnecessary. I voted for Wilson because he
kept us out of it.
In 1917 I became convinced, though not practicing communist.
In Russia, for some
reason, I wasn't and I said so, but my understanding of
[Bolsdevism?] made everything

pleasant when the Cheka arrested me a few times.
Library of Congress
[Rose Wilder Lane]
I am now a fundementalist American; give me time and I will
tell you why individualism,
laissez faire and the slightly restrained anarchy of capitalism
offer the best opportunities
for the development of the human spirit. Also I will tell you
why the relative freedom
of human spirit is better — and more productive, even in
material ways — than the
communist, Fascist, or any other rigidity organized for material
ends. [/ital?]
Personally, I'm a plump, Middle-Western, Middle-class, middle-
aged woman, with white
hair and simple tastes. I like buttered popcorn, sal ted peanuts,
bread-and-milk. I am,
however, a marvelous cook of foods for others to eat. I like to
see people eat my cooking.
I love mountains, the sea — all of the seas except the Atlantic, a
rather dull ocean —

and Tschaikovsky and Epstein and the Italian primatives. I like
Arabic architecture and
the Moslem way of life. I am mad about Kansas skies, Cedar
Rapids by night, Iowa City
any time, Miami Beach, San Francisco, and all American boys
about fifteen years old
playing basketball. At the moment I don't think of anything I
heartily dislike, but I can't 6
understand sport pages, nor what makes radio work, nor why
people like to look at people
who write fiction.
“But aren't you frightfully disappointed?” I asked a stranger
who was recently looking at
me.
“Oh, no,” she said. “No, indeed. We value people for what they
do, not for what they look
like.”

HCM550 Critical Thinking Writing Rubric - Module [4]

Recommended

Recommended

More Related Content

Similar to HCM550 Critical Thinking Writing Rubric - Module [4]

Similar to HCM550 Critical Thinking Writing Rubric - Module [4] (20)

More from JeanmarieColbert3

More from JeanmarieColbert3 (20)

Recently uploaded

Recently uploaded (20)

HCM550 Critical Thinking Writing Rubric - Module [4]