Overview: Two Russian immigrants by the names of Anna and Katarina, have recently come to

New York City in hopes of finding jobs. Anna’s parents died on the trip over to America, and

Katarina has been orphaned since she was seven years old. The two live in a tenement and find

work in a sweatshop, until one day when Katarina is assaulted by the overseer. Refusing to

back down, the two participate in a demonstration, but Katarina is heavily beate. The both of

them are too scared to continue to pursue life with the Union, and instead

Katarina’s Point of View:

The dark clouds loomed above me as I staggered down the cold New York Streets,

shivering, tired, and alone. The biting wind sent chills through me as it hit my skin through my

newly torn blouse. My eyes filled with tears as I recalled the events of earlier that day, and it

took all of my strength to continue walking. ​Almost home, ​I thought as my feet dragged behind

me. The rundown, dingy tenement came into view, and I breathed a sigh of relief as the door

was flung open and Anna came running towards me. “Katya! What happened to you?” The tears

began to stream down my face and my breathing became agonisingly painful because of my

bruised ribs. “The overseer… he… said I wasn’t working fast enough. I worked as hard as I

could Anna, I really did! He dragged me outside and beat me, and it hurts, it hurts so much! He

let me keep the job, but I don’t know if I can work in my condition!” Anna’s eyes hardened as

she heard the story, and I could practically feel her shaking with anger.

Anna’s Point of View:

My blood boiled as I heard about what that ​nedobryy chelovek ​had done to Katarina, and

my resolve steeled. Although I had been unsure before, there was no doubt in my mind now.

We had been hearing of these “Unions” for weeks now, but we kept our heads down. But
enough is enough! They have beaten my poor ​podrushka​, and badly. She needed medical

treatment, the kind we could not afford. My anger swelled even further, and I decided then and

there that we would join a Union first thing in the morning, we didn’t have a choice anymore.

The next day, I awoke with that same steel resolve in me, and I bolted out of bed as

quickly as I possibly could, I looked at Katarina, and felt the frown take its place on my face as I

saw how badly she was beaten. The bruises stood out in a dark contrast with her pale skin,

making her look like a ghost. I went to prepare breakfast, which was simply a cold, hard piece of

bread with bitter tasting margarine. Katarina limped to the table and sat, taking small, pained

bites from the ‘food’ in front of her. I looked to her as I spoke: “You know what we have to do,

don’t you?” A fire formed in her eyes, one I have never seen in the ten years that I’ve known

her. “​Da. ​We join today.”

We finished the rest of our breakfast in silence, and set foot out the door with anger in

our hearts and determination in our blood. The Union Building cast an enormous shadow over

us as we looked up at it, a single moment's hesitation settling.

Katarina’s Point of View:

I took a deep breath and painfully limped through the double doors of the building. Once

the two of us were inside, I found myself overwhelmed by a throng of people, and I latched onto

Anna’s arm for support as the crowd jostled around us. We pushed through to see a wiry,

middle aged man sitting at a haphazardly built desk, who looked up at us through smudged

lenses. He asked us what we wanted with a high pitched scratchy voice. We responded, telling

him that we wish to become members of the union and take part in the upcoming strike.
Anna’s POV

As the days passed we prepared ourselves mentally and physically for the strike, going to Union

meetings and working with the other members.It was very different from what we expected. The

union is inclusive of all workers, however some felt that their experiences were more important

than others, feeling the need to speak up over others. The day of the strike was a cold one. The

type of cold that chills you to your bones. We bundled up in our warmest scarves and coats and

headed out into the crowded streets. All around us, there were people marching and shouting,

raising their signs above their heads with pride and conviction. The workers stood united in

burning anger, expressing their rage at the corrupted corporations. Suddenly Over the roar of

the crowd, we heard it. The first signs of destruction, the sirens. With every passing moment

they droned only louder and eventually the shouts of the people joined in as the cops stormed

the strikers. The clashes of wood on flesh and bone rang through my head. The screams and

shouts echoed. I was frozen in place as the world seemed to shrink around me but the one thing

I did notice was the absence of Katya’s warm, small hand around my wrist.

Katya’s POV

I searched frantically for Anna, doing my best to push my small frame through the throng of

people, but to no avail. All of a sudden, I heard the fearful shouts of other Union members, and

the crowd began to scramble in all directions. What was going on? I pushed against the

direction of the crowd, I wasn’t leaving without Anna. I heard a single warning shout through the

confusion, and I turned around for a split second, but it was too late. A pair of rough hands

grabbed me by the shoulders and threw me to the ground, and I felt the air leave my lungs as a

huge, lumbering man continued to kick at my only recently healed ribs. I curled into a fetal
position as the man raised his baton high above his head and brought it down on me. I cried out

in pain, but the man was not phased, and I continued to cry.

Anna’s POV

I heard Katya before I saw her. I heard her pained cries, and I sprinted in the direction of the

noise. There she was, broken and bruised, and I saw the strikebreaker walking away casually,

as if nothing had happened. I pushed away my anger and let my worry overcome it, and I

rushed to my friend’s side. I rolled her onto her back, and I gasped as I saw her face. ​О БожеI, ​I

thought. We have both gotten hurt in the past, it was part of working in a sweatshop, but it had

never been this bad. I helped her stand and slung her arm around my shoulders, and I

supported her as we limped back to our tenement, with a new fear in our hearts and a hurt in

our bones.

Katya’s POV

I sat in our tenement, staring at the wall years later. Those bruises having healed over, now only

uncomfortable memories. I stared at the same grimy walls me and Anna called home during our

time in the Union. Those days were long gone and the years started to blend together, not

bringing much change. We still spend our days on our best behavior in the sweatshop with the

other working women for a little money, all of our efforts were for nothing. I fear things will never

change, and the hope I once held in my heart is long gone.