The Diary of a Russian Factory Worker: 1905
9th of January 1905
I am writing a diary entry for the first time to let out something about my encumbrance or troubles, its new, letting out what I am really thinking or feeling, so here I go. My name is Gerome Pavlov and I am a loving husband and father of three children, two boys and a girl all under the age of 14. My wife, Mischa Pavlov and I are both hard working factory workers who try to provide as much and work very hard for our family, being a proletariat isn’t easy when your job is at the bottom of the social economic status, it is sort of like a food pyramid we proletariats being at the bottom of the food chain. In other words our job is to sell our labouring power in order to survive. Our customs are bad, my family and another family of three have been put with three other persons in a city apartment house in which it has crowded space, no hot water, only three double beds, roaches and one window, it’s disgraceful circumstances.
We evenly share whatever money we have left over from paying tax for buying food supplies and other hygiene necessities such as soap. As much bad has happened especially now that many factory workers, millers and other proletariats have gone on a strike and have had Father Gapon help write us all a petition in order to set our hearts and minds free from the worry that our children and our children’s children would have to go through the hard labour in which their parents and even grandparents have had to endure, so I will start by telling of my day of strike commencement... Today was horrid, a tragedy of unfortunate events. I and hundreds of other factory and mill workers had decided to call upon each other and sign a petition in which the good Father Gapon had written out for us with sincerest concern for our wellbeing as well as the rights we deserve. My day started with the petitioners who decided to go along on the march had come to meet at 8 O’clock to discuss how we should approach our beloved Tsar and have Father
I am writing a diary entry for the first time to let out something about my encumbrance or troubles, its new, letting out what I am really thinking or feeling, so here I go. My name is Gerome Pavlov and I am a loving husband and father of three children, two boys and a girl all under the age of 14. My wife, Mischa Pavlov and I are both hard working factory workers who try to provide as much and work very hard for our family, being a proletariat isn’t easy when your job is at the bottom of the social economic status, it is sort of like a food pyramid we proletariats being at the bottom of the food chain. In other words our job is to sell our labouring power in order to survive. Our customs are bad, my family and another family of three have been put with three other persons in a city apartment house in which it has crowded space, no hot water, only three double beds, roaches and one window, it’s disgraceful circumstances.
We evenly share whatever money we have left over from paying tax for buying food supplies and other hygiene necessities such as soap. As much bad has happened especially now that many factory workers, millers and other proletariats have gone on a strike and have had Father Gapon help write us all a petition in order to set our hearts and minds free from the worry that our children and our children’s children would have to go through the hard labour in which their parents and even grandparents have had to endure, so I will start by telling of my day of strike commencement... Today was horrid, a tragedy of unfortunate events. I and hundreds of other factory and mill workers had decided to call upon each other and sign a petition in which the good Father Gapon had written out for us with sincerest concern for our wellbeing as well as the rights we deserve. My day started with the petitioners who decided to go along on the march had come to meet at 8 O’clock to discuss how we should approach our beloved Tsar and have Father