I think it must have been about 1974 when I started working for the “Y”. We had spent the year from 1969 to 1970 in America while my husband studied for his Masters in Social Work. The story of this epic is still to come!! Also, in a similar attempt to upgrade my education, I went to Teachers College for a year on our return to Peterborough.
Although, after that I was periodically employed as a Supply Teacher it was not the same as having your own classroom. So I was ready to look at any alternative in the offing.
Peterborough was a small town and was considered by marketers as so typically Canadian they used it for research on many new products. Everyone knew everyone, and in the area of employment, it was not what you knew but who you knew that counted. In this way my name was mentioned when the Board of Directors of the Y.W. was looking for a new director for their Residence.
After a cursory interview, I was duly hired, and I have no illusions that it was because of my excellent credentials! I had some local experience having worked for Big Brothers, I did not expect a large salary, and I had some obscure qualification from Great Britain! This seemed to be sufficient. One of the things that made me hesitate a little was that the job entailed managing the Food Services as well as the Residential side of things. My interviewer assured me that the cook was very competent and that she would not need much input. Later on I found that this assurance did not take into consideration the cook’s resentment at having a boss, so obviously inept at managing a kitchen. I had some sympathy with her and tried to be accommodating. Eventually we came to a truce. When the dishwasher did not show I cheerfully, if not competently, ran the dishwasher and we made our peace,
My boss was a tightly corseted lady who was actually very kind to me although we had a very different view of the world. She had been dealing with resident’s problems for a number of months and was really glad to have a new, if very inexperienced, staff hired.
The Y.W. building was very old. It had been state of the art in 1904 when it was built, but was now on its last legs, and very out of date. To be fair, it had been a very innovative place in its time. In 1904 Peterborough had been a small lumber town where when describing the main street as, ”the main drag”, it was literally describing a street leveled occasionally by a large board dragged behind two horses. The good ladies of Peterborough were anxious that young women from the country, coming for work, had no where safe to stay. In those days Peterborough was notorious for the number of pubs plying their trade in the downtown area, and was a rough lumber town.
So they got busy and built a large red brick Victorian pile. When I got there it was a struggle to keep it up. Something was always breaking down. It had a large skeletal fire escape which gave the fire marshal nightmares. The swimming pool needed constant testing and repairs were a constant trial.
By the time I got there no self respecting student wanted to live there. There were very adequate student residences provided by Trent University. Competent young women had apartments, and the “Y” was seen as a rather old fashioned anachronism. So we ended up by housing a number of girls and women presenting any number of problems.
My very first board meeting turned out to be a bit of a disaster. One of the things I was asked to do was bring in the tea tray from the kitchen. This had an impressive silver tea service and tiny little old fashioned cups and saucers. There was some kind of ceremony where the members took turns to pour the tea! Anyway, I managed to drop the teapot and break off one of its little feet!! I was so embarrassed, but I must say the board members were kind and we proceeded with a large plain teapot from the kitchen.
There was something unique about working in an all female environment. The refreshing bit was that we understood the pressures of being both housewives and workers at the same time. As it came time for school to end we all anticipated calls from home, as our children wanted us to sort out their various issues. I vividly remember my two daughters, on two different telephones, screeching incomprehensively for my attention. The noise reverberated through the lobby and everyone looked with sympathy and understanding. We always stood ready to cover for one another if there was some disaster that required immediate attention.
The board of directors was comprised mostly of the wives of the senior managers at General Electric and other firms in the area. In my time, these women were going through the beginning throes of the feminist movement and they were a lively group. No one talked of feminism in those days. However, there were many meetings of “consciousness raising” which were the beginnings of women questioning so many assumptions about women’s role.
After I left, The purpose of the “Y ”changed dramatically and it became a focus of services for battered women. The new service is called “Crossroads” and it recently celebrated over twenty five years in existence. It seems that the impetus that made women care for girls in 1904 is still alive and well in 2021!
My time at the Y.W.C.A. was a challenge and will merit quite a few more stories. So stay tuned for a continuation soon.
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