A recent poll has named Gisele Pelicot as France’s Person of the Year, highlighting the immense courage and dignity she displayed during her harrowing rape trial, which captivated audiences worldwide last autumn. The Independent suggested last week, and Prospect magazine echoed the sentiment, asserting Pelicot merits recognition as the world's Person of 2024, outpacing more famous figures such as Donald Trump. President Emmanuel Macron praised Pelicot, describing her bravery as inspirational, particularly during the tumultuous three-month trial. The proceedings resulted not only in the imprisonment of her former husband but also 51 men for rape and assault. Over the span of ten years, Dominique Pelicot had inflicted unspeakable trauma upon his wife, drugging her and encouraging men he met online to violate her. Her experience has become emblematic of women's strength and resilience globally.
Meanwhile, historian Dana Frank has revived attention on the neglected contributions of groups traditionally sidelined by mainstream narratives. She treasures a potent photograph from the 1937 edition of Life magazine, depicting seven African American women gathered together, laughing and wearing stylish winter coats, seemingly enjoying some social time together. Yet beneath the surface, these women were engaged in serious activism, as they occupied the city hall offices of the president of the Chicago Board of Health. Working as wet nurses, they protested against being paid four cents for every ounce of breast milk, significantly less than their white counterparts, who received ten cents per ounce. Louise Clark, one of the women on strike, passionately articulated their plight, stating, “They shouldn’t make any difference between us.”
According to Frank, this powerful yet overlooked strike reflects the broader dynamics of labor history—one characterized less by linear progress and more by challenges, alliances, and societal shifts. Her newly released book, What Can We Learn From the Great Depression: Stories of Ordinary People & Collective Action in Hard Times, argues against the glorified narratives often taught about the Great Depression, which typically spotlight figures like President Franklin Delano Roosevelt as the heroes of the era. Frank contends this perspective is one-sided and leads to the erasure of ordinary people’s experiences, declaring, “Most mainstream history is, over and over again, the story of this great man – or sometimes you get a woman – and how they made history happen.”
Indeed, Frank emphasizes the missed stories of those who came together during the Great Depression, like mutual-aid societies forming to support each other through crises. She recounts inspiring tales of community solidarity, where African American neighborhoods initiated grocery cooperatives to address food insecurity when many were out of work and struggling to make ends meet. These collective efforts rooted themselves firmly against the backdrop of systemic exploitation, challenging the established norms of their time.
Delving deep, Frank also addresses the shadowy aspects of history, such as the mass repatriation faced by people of Mexican descent during this era. Many were advised to leave the United States by relief offices or faced deportation regardless of their citizenship status. Frank connects this to the prevailing attitudes exhibited during the Great Depression, exposing how stories of hardship exist alongside those of resilience and community. “Caravans” of Mexicans moved down toward their ancestral homeland, often supported by local communities who provided donations of goods for their difficult journeys.
Frank insists on the importance of revisiting our collective memory. “Collective memory can play tricks on official narratives,” she explains, showcasing how the tales of the Great Depression often neglect the role of immigrants, women, and people of color. Her analysis prompts readers to ponder the issues of visibility, memory, and the marginalized history of America. For example, the story of the “Black Legion,” which rose during the Great Depression, operates as yet another hidden layer to this complex American narrative. Unlike the more recognizable Ku Klux Klan, the Black Legion engaged in secretive yet violent methods, targeting immigrant communities and promoting white supremacy during times of economic turmoil.
It becomes evident through Frank’s narrative lens how the simplistic tale of individual heroism overshadows the true, multifaceted history of collective struggles and successes. The idealization of rugged individualism, often attributed to the American spirit, diminishes the roles played by marginalized communities and the systemic barriers they faced. For Frank, presenting this rich, complicated history is necessary not just for the sake of truth but also to understand the contemporary socio-political ecosystem marking today’s discussions surrounding labor rights and social justice.
Reflecting on current events, Frank ties historical labor movements to today, noting how recent trends reveal renewed vigor within the labor movement, reminiscent of past struggles. With the resurgence of unions at major companies like Amazon and Starbucks and the idea of mutual aid gaining traction during the pandemic, the legacies of these historical moments remain alive. Frank poses significant questions, prompting us to think about where we stand today and how we can channel collective action to confront systemic issues, both old and new.