The Woman of the 1920 Society(Maria Guerra) The Woman of the 1920 Society
The following facts on history are not true, some are but they are not 100% accurate

Helen: 1920 October 19
Death, suicide, everything gone. I have nothing. So why stay. My life has no meaning, I have no meaning. This box, this “home”... I don’t want it. I want nothing. But yet, I want everything. I want to live, I want to thrive, I want to be someone with a name civilly written on a paper. Be someone with a person I can count on, have the feeling of freedom. But yet all these feelings I don’t have, are what make me want to disappear daily. But disappear from where… I am a no-one to society, especially because I am a woman.
Seattle Washington, “the Charmed city”. the colored buildings, some dark red, others neutral beige, others shining white, most light ocean blue with gray undertones. Maroon brick streets are carefully patterned on the surface of Seattle city. And American flags waving to the breezing cold wind at the top of the highest building in the center of the Metropolis. Yet, I don't like it. I want to be in Paris watching the Eiffel tower or Egypt riding on huge brown camels wearing large red tunics crossing from the left shoulder to the button right hip. I want something else. But this got me thinking. This life, this place, this feeling, I can change it. I can make my name be the reason my life finally has what it deserves. October 19, 1920, today, I begin. The project begins.

Helen 1920 October 21
This project can change me. This project can change my life. And so I did what I could, I put up flyers that I found in the trash dump next to my so-called house and picked up a pen I found laying outside on the floor of a hotel and wrote, “looking for a woman who is strong enough to change history.” and repeatedly did this for 6 times in 6 different papers. All different shades of white and beige and left them on the floor with my house location behind it. The plan was going to work, I just knew it. This was yesterday, October 20. But today October 21, I am still waiting for at least 1 person to join me. Yet no one arrives. I start to give up hope, I give up hope for my project. And the feeling came back. Death crossed my mind. I want to die.

Helen: 1920 October 29
I believe her name was Margaret, we met yesterday. She came by my scaped house, wearing a black and white uniform, the type the cleaning woman wore as servants at the mayor’s home, yet so lucky guess she indeed worked for the mayor and had been a migrant from Mexico after running away from her abusive partner and straightforwardly applied for house cleaning. She looked thin, like me. She was lighter than I was, I was black, she was Hispanic. I always thought non-white American wear connected, you know, always trashed and hated by society. Yet they never realized what life would be like without us.
Margret arrived around noon and was looking worried as I believe she left work. I remember she tensely poked her hand in my face to have a proper handshake, yet I declined and asked who she was. She took out the paper I put up on October 20th and asked me if she could join. Her words don’t match in my brain, yet still, I remember it going something like this,
“Hello, Margret’s my name, what’s yours.” she looked trash like she hadn’t slept since September 1st. And dirty shoes, (I believe the mayor gave her none) yet I can’t judge. I was poor living beside a trash dump in the old city of Washington where Street bars were loud at night around 9:00 to noon not earlier or later, and a few were going to dinner around 8:00 or 7:00 but only the rich since they had their cars and could go back home around 10:00 since taxis were no longer available at night and that was a nightmare hour because the people that rounded the streets were dead drunk. I am poor. My house dynamic is trash. I have 4 large but thin metal plates covering 3 walls of the square house, the 4th wall is the edge of the trash dump. With a generous amount of quilts lying on the floor acting as blankets and carpets. A load of boxes with my daily necessities I can find in the trash can once in a while. Toothbrushes, hotel shampoos I can use to shower when it rains, a hairbrush, some clothing, and loads of leftover food. The trash dump is great. I, on the other hand, am not.

Helen: 1920 October 30
Margret just left a few minutes ago. Our plan must work. We set it up.
“I got this idea, voting could change the way America is formed, I can have a better life with a better president, and so can you. There is this route I know with men’s clothing, all the way from $0.50 for a three-piece suit with trousers included, all the way up to $2.98 I believe we could find some way to vote and change the way America is built.'' Those words were Margaret's, I had to jot them down while she kept on babbling around about the trousers and suit colors for us both until Alexandra came up.
She, on the other hand, Holy bible water did she have money. The Gabriell Coco Channel covered her hands with silver gloves and an Elsa Schiaparelli dress with all the shades of light blue which glamorously shaped her perfect body with the silk fabric. Yet her face wasn't pretty; she was quite the ugly crier, as she showed up balling her eyes out in front of us. She stood there for a while as I recall, blond perfectly shaped curls with the length of her hair hitting the tip of the ear. And the red carved lipstick now smeared between the top lip hitting the tip of her nose. Her hands would shake as I recall the words,
“Could I join you?” as she held the October 20th paper. I know her story is something I won't forget, I wrote it down as I heard her talking progressively to Margaret. Bruises and blood covered her elbows, as she lifted her skirt until we could see her knees also bruised. She had been beaten, and she was weak, I saw her body trembling, she couldn't walk properly.
She had said, “I really must join, I know I lo-o-ok rich, but I need liberation, m-y husband-d he hit me, multiple times-s, I didn’t want children, but he did-d. His company-y he wants to pass it on to children-n but I don't want to, so he hit me until I ran off, I saw your paper on the street-t before arriving-g. I need to know-w what is-s the plan-n.”
And so on October 30th, at 7:00 pm Margret, Alexandra, and Helen Hegsburg are going to change the way humanity is built. I will no longer kickback. I will hold my determination in the palm of my hand and not let go until November 2, 1920, when the elections of Warren Gamaliel Harding and James Middleton Cox would take place.

Helen: 1920 October 31
Yesterday it was just Margret, Alexandra, and I. today it was Margret, Alexandra, Katherine, And I. Katherine is middle class. Hard worker and did own a pair of Oxford leather red shoes with a heel and she too arrived at the corner of the trash dump on October 31 wearing a maroon tinted hat with a light flesh shade tone to it. The middle class was the kindest, never two overdressed, but didn't look like me or Margret daily.
They always had the right amount of makeup on and their hair was always glued to their face with marker gel-forming different wave shapes on the left side of their face. She had a soft voice, the one you get tired of listening to. But yet she arrived here and would not leave. I remember her saying she wanted to join, but I don't like her. She arrived at the dump with the most disgusted eyes and a lingering smile. I was black, she was white, yet so Margret was Hispanic and Alexandra didn’t care. Katherine did. Katherine would express it the most. She went into the trash bin hall and was relieved to see Alexandra, she was white. And I won't bother her looks or her racist blanc face but it will be hard working with her on the project. It's 9:00 pm and cold outside, yet my 5 blankets inside can keep me warm during the night. The cold nights are the ones that make me think about my life the most. Make me think about my worth and my life. This project must work. I thought about my meaning, my purpose, and what I mean to others, but this time it wasn’t death, suicide, or disappearing. This feeling I haven’t felt in one million years came back, perseverance, optimism, and courage. If this project works, it could change the United States of America, and it could change my life forever.

IT HAS BEGUN
1920 November 1, a year after the end of world war I and the beginning of what is known as the change of American history. Seattle, Washington, was the loud city a day before the elections. Passing the bar windows, you could hear the talk of the people stating their opinions on whether they are republicans or democrats, or who they vote for and why. It was a quiet city with loud whispers. Others claimed that their vote was private. But all these people had one thing in common, men. Old men, strong men, short men, of all types of races and colors were able to vote in the world-famous elections of Warren Gamaliel Harding and James Middleton Cox, yet there was one thing that didn't go into place, women. They weren't allowed to vote. Helen, black, poor, and skinny, changed the way the United States of America was claimed. She, with the company of Margret Hernandez, Alexandra Branham, and Katherine Levard reformed America.
The world spun into a million different pieces, always found the word life to be astonishing. Life is what makes up an individual, yet there are millions of individuals on earth. One could be having the worst day of their life, others could be having the best. Some are dying and others are being born. The difference in word life has a different meaning for such. For example, someone's mother could be buying the groceries and someone's cousin could be sitting on a hospital bed, and yet different things are happening for each individual in a world that's 40,075 kilometers big. However, 4 women are currently shopping in the men’s store.
“I believe this color is perfect for my husband, it suits his hair color and lightness in his eyes,”
“It’s dashing, but my husband would gladly appreciate a pair of trousers and a nice blue suit for tomorrow's voting,”
Alexandra spoke as she rubbed the maroon martial on the thick suit. As Kathrine responds. But the feeling of pity in Katherine's eyes couldn't bear the thought of lying to her husband.
Yet on the other side of the story, there was Helen and Margaret’s booth stuffing all types of small objects. The cashier man with great suspicion looked at Helen, the cashier flinched every time Helen touched something with her dirty hands. Kathrine looked at the old cashier touching his curled mustache and not removing his sight from Helen. But, we all knew why and nobody did anything about it, there wasn't anything to do about it, Helen was black.
The man stood up and turned his direction up to Helen, who was standing on the second stall in the pants section and admiring the detailed patterned floor with different shades of brown. The man stood up and took Helen by the hair, Helen gasped “AAAHH” she howled in pain, as both Katherine and Alexandra went silent and Margaret turned to look,
“You filthy scum bag what are you doing here in my shop, your nasty hands are ruining my priced fabric. I better you leave before I call the cops, I better not see you in my shop again you dirtbag, now LEAVE!” Helen wiped her tears off her eyes and stepped to the door about to open before getting kicked by the cashier one last time. Margret got herself out of the store as quickly as she could, stuffing the small objects and slowly leaving the store. Kathrine and Alexandra paid for their items,
“It'll be $4.56 for both suits and pants, in additional to $0.36 for the ties. I hope your husbands enjoy the brand. Have a great day.” the cashier spoke with an irritated look as he didn’t leave his eyes on Margaret exiting the store.
And that was when he realized something was off. The bell on the door of the store rang as Margret looked back at the man. “Young lady, could you please remove your coat, I don’t mean it offensively, but could you?” Margaret’s eyes widened as she slowly took off her coat and handed it to the store cashier. Alexandra and Katherine came outside with the store’s bag, and they all were set to go. The man took one last glimpse at Margret as they were all going away as he yelled,
“HEY! YOU TOOK MY STUFF!” and the cashier spirits towards the 4 women walking away.,
Margret looked backed and packed faster as she whispered, “run.” and the four-woman set to run back to Helen's trash dump corner. All their breaths are heavenly breathing and their lungs opening and close rapidly. They all sat down and looked at all they had. 2 suit pairs from Kathrine and another 2 from Alexandra. Margret was able to take out different colored socks and 2 pairs of man's shoes and a hat.
“I don’t think we have enough,” confessed Alexandra. “I don’t think we will be able to hide in these few pieces of clothing. But I think we would have to do with what we have.`` Tomorrow is election day, tomorrow is the plan. Tomorrow must work. November 2, 1920.

NEVER FORGOTTEN
It’s November 2, 1920, the day the people of the united states of America have been waiting for since the end of world war I. the rise of a new area, the new beginning for a new country. And the historic landmark being made, the first woman group to vote in the elections. November was the month everyone waited for. But Helen was the one who waited for the most. She woke up at 6:00 am and Margret got a day off work since the Mayor got off to vote. Both Kathrine and Alexandra came to where the clothes were stored. Alexandra came with a few of her husband's trousers and was able to bring enough pairs of shoes for each. The nerves increased, if this goes wrong they could all end up in jail, or worse. Dead.
Margaret arrived at the trash dump house at around 7:01, Kathrine at 8:32, and Alexandrea at 8:47 am. They are all ready to go. Margaret wore a pair of navy blue trousers with a darker vest and a white flannel at the bottom of the vest, and a beige flat cap with a tie under. Her hair was in a bun and covered with a flat cap. She removed all her makeup and wore high socks with one of the oxford shoes from Alexandra's husband. Alexandrea looked rather different, her perfect blond curls now gelled to her face with a rather man-looking style, she was wearing a striped suit and had a white flannel beneath her shirt as well, she was wearing her husband's trousers and brogue shoes. Helen was different; she had a different shade of trousers, a rather brown shade, for both her top and bottom, she had a darker flannel shirt and no tie. Her shoes are oxford as well, but in a very small size, and a Derby, hat to cover her frizzy short hair. She had no makeup on, and because of her nutrition looked sick and unhealthy, but money was far from her reach, and had to work with what she was given. Finally, Kathrine came by with her husband's finest top hat and gold bond shoes. She looked rich, even though she wasn't enough to top Alexandra. It was now 9:00 am elections began at 9:30. So they headed off, they looked more confident but they were all women and yet still human beings. Helen's hands shook with a great tumbler as she was nervous, she was different. A guard in the voting booth never took his eyes off Helen. Until she felt a strike going up to her spine to her ears. Her body froze as she looked back into the policeman’s eyes and quickly turned back around. Skinny Helen’s wrist was about to burst with the great strength the police were holding her with.
“May I see an identification card? Sir.” Helen did nothing and she didn't look back once. The policeman tightened Helen's wrist as he closed circulation in the human wrist. Alexandra, Margaret, and Kathrine couldn't speak. None of them could, their feminine voices would just be a way to get themselves into deep trouble. The long voting line stopped as the guard kept holding Helen’s hand. She looked at him finally and with great fear got a glimpse of what was a gun on the left side of his belt. She gulped to see the bulky man holding her thin wrist and not waiting patiently for the identification card handed into the hands of the policeman. The only problem was Helen had no identification card, she was no one. She didn't have her name civilly written, meaning complete and whole invisibility to the name of Helen Hegsburg. “Sorry sir, I don't have that with me right now” Helen depended on her voice and held back her tears into the police' raging face. She didn't know the law, she didn't know the rules, and so she could do nothing with her knowledge she could do nothing with herself. The cold-blooded man twisted Helen's wrist to the point that her bone cracked in 2, “AAAGH” Helen screamed with pain. She couldn't move her risk any longer, as the police looked at her with anger. And removed her head showing her frizzy hair falling to the length of her shoulders. She tried to run. “You pitiful little piece of wasteless trash, you shall be put in jail for the rest of your life for such an offense to your country,” the man said, squeezing her wrist even harder. She fell to the ground in tears with complete loss of movement in her right wrist as she kicked the policeman and tried to run, “YOU PIECE OF TRASH! You will pay!” the police yelled as he took out his gun and ran towards Helen. A loud popping sound came close to the ears of Alexandra, Kathrine, and Margaret as they all tried to hold in their tears and flinch to the loud sound of a gunshot without saying a word so they wouldn't get caught. And Helen layered, a few feet away from the voting line, shot to death and covered in blood.
Helen dreamed big, she wanted to go to Paris, she wanted to climb the highest mountain, and most of all she didn't give up on herself. She did what she wanted to do. And tried to finish the task given.
Margaret looked at both Katherine and Alexandra in the eyes, “we have to finish this, for Helen, and for the rest of the country as well. We have to stay strong, we can do this, we are women.” she whispered into both their ears as they wrote on the voting booth Warren Gamaliel Harding. And this was it. This tinted mark on a dark white piece of paper was what is known as the change of America.

Margaret November 3, 1920
I found myself constantly crying at the kitchen table of the mayor's house, Louis Brownlow, but this got me thinking, how could a person I have known for such a small amount of time change my perspective on the world. And change my perspective on a human beings. Helen Hegsburg. She dreamed big, she grew as an individual and changed the United States of America. But then the voice scattered around the city of Seattle Washington. Warren Gamaliel Harding was voted president of the united states and won by three vote difference. Helen would be proud and so am I. I never believed that an individual could have a great impact on the world but this changed the way I see things. This made me realize that every human being has importance, whether they are a woman or man, black or white, Hispanic or Asian. Everyone in this entire world has a worth and a value worth millions. Helen Hegsburg was the reason for the change of America, and the reason that the world has risen to its glory. I believe that in the future of the days to come Kathrine, Alexandrea and I will meet again. I don't know where or when, but destiny is creating this future for the country and I know it will create a difference in the world. This world will develop and this shows how. And all because of Helen Hegsbung, the woman that changed America.








History background
In the year 1920 was the first election women could vote in the state of the US because after world war I 1 many women started to do men's jobs after several passed after fighting in the war. The current mayor in 1920 was, in fact, Louis Brownlow who was given the role on October 9, 1917, and stopped his role on September 17, 1920. The elections of November 2 did take place, and Warren Gamaliel Harding did win the election with a difference of 26.2% he later died of a heart attack in San Francisco in 1923. He was a great president for the US and did a lot of great accomplishments for the country, he tried to “return to normality” since this event did take place a few years after the end of world war I. this event did take place before the birth of Martin Luther King jr. meaning sadly the US was a very Segregated country and had a lot of problems towards black people. During this era, most of the clothing brands stated in the story were the most famous at the time and wear worn by a lot of people. But this also means that the meaning of the story took place in the wrong year therefore not all facts stated in the story are 100% true.

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