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Diaconia
Guest
Is this a serious question?
Of course women can be bosses.
Deacon Christopher
Of course women can be bosses.
Deacon Christopher
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JanR
Guest
God created both male and female in His image. That spells equality, to me.
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JanR
Guest
Especially if that queen is a wasp!
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Marinakeer
Guest
Thank you so much for your responses everyone! I was however wondering if, in a Catholic family structure, a wife would be allowed to have a higher-paying job than her husband or be the primary breadwinner for the family? Of course this is given that she does not have to, say, care for a very young child. thanks!
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Marinakeer
Guest
I’m sorry, I was in some pretty cult-y religious movements when I was in high school so it’s still hard for me to shake some of those habits and beliefs!
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NevermoreLenore
Guest
I understand this; I went to a church in my late teens that was heavily fundamental and even earlier in our marriage we went to some ultra conservative churches. I was also taught about the subservience of women and they applied this to all of life’s roles. A woman could teach a bible study with children or other women, but never men. This also was where it was drilled into my head of the evils of the Catholic Church, the whore of Babylon and such 
Needless to say, it was quite a miracle when my husband and I simultaneously but separately felt called to the Catholic Church.
It’ll take some undoing and time for you to discern what was and wasn’t the teaching of God. Focus on reading your bible and the catechism prayerfully and regularly and you will find your way out of erroneous teachings.
Needless to say, it was quite a miracle when my husband and I simultaneously but separately felt called to the Catholic Church.It’ll take some undoing and time for you to discern what was and wasn’t the teaching of God. Focus on reading your bible and the catechism prayerfully and regularly and you will find your way out of erroneous teachings.
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Margaret_Ann
Guest
One of my coworkers (deceased 7 years this December) worked in a TV factory where they made the CRT boards for the TVs. She started when she was 16 and made manager of all the women when she was 18. She had women 2x her age under her.
She told me the story of one girl who couldn’t figure out how to make the boards properly. Everyone did good work except this one girl. So my friend stayed after work with her a few days and showed her how to do it. The girl got the hang of it and was very grateful to my friend.
Btw, in that factory - men & women were on opposite floors. You weren’t allowed on the floor of the opposite sex. That was forbidden.
She told me the story of one girl who couldn’t figure out how to make the boards properly. Everyone did good work except this one girl. So my friend stayed after work with her a few days and showed her how to do it. The girl got the hang of it and was very grateful to my friend.
Btw, in that factory - men & women were on opposite floors. You weren’t allowed on the floor of the opposite sex. That was forbidden.
@Margaret_Ann
Thank you for sharing, Margaret. Have never seen a segregated factory. Ridiculous practice.
My working life began in the collieries of the Rhondda. It was illegal for women to work underground, which meant they could work only in the offices, or as nurses.
Initial training was carried out at National Colliery, in Wattstown (you can find a description of it on-line). This was a working colliery, that had a training district underground.
On my first day, ten trainees were loaded into the cage, along with two trainers. One of the trainers looked at us and said: ‘Now don’t forget, lads, keep your mouths wide open as we descend, this will stop your eardrums from exploding.’ So there we all were, descending 1500 feet with our mouths gaping. In the gloom, I could see the shoulders of the two trainers – who had turned away – shaking. I thought it was the movement of the cage, but – of course – they were laughing…at us!
I was selected to work with a ‘rider’ – a man who travelled the roadways with each journey of coal tubs (drams). We walked about five hundred yards to the haulage engine (a fixed machine with drums and cables; used to pull the drams). The engine-driver tried to start the machine (driven by compressed air called ‘blast’). Nothing happened. He peered down a tube, and then handed me a bucket; with instructions that I return to pit bottom to get the bucket filled with ‘blast’; ‘To top off the engine, see, and get it working.’ I set off, feeling very important to have been given the task.
When I arrive at pit bottom, the man in charge of that area asked me what I wanted. I told him.
Without a flicker, he took the bucket and set in on a bench near a compressed air outlet. He took the pipe, and began to fill the bucket – slowly, from bottom to top, gently easing the pressure as he approached the rim. He tapped the last few drops of ‘blast’ into the bucket, and handed it to me. ‘Watch you don’t spill any.’ He said.
Now I’m not stupid. ‘Where’s the lid?’ I asked. He gave a sigh. ‘You don’t need a lid, boy. Blast is compressed air, see, that means it’s heavier than normal air, and will stay in the bucket until you pour it out.’ And that was exactly what the engine driver did – carefully, through a funnel – just as soon as I arrived back at the engine. It took me quite a while to realise that I’d been fooled; and all with perfectly straight, and honest, faces!
Have a great day, and God bless you.
Thank you for sharing, Margaret. Have never seen a segregated factory. Ridiculous practice.
My working life began in the collieries of the Rhondda. It was illegal for women to work underground, which meant they could work only in the offices, or as nurses.
Initial training was carried out at National Colliery, in Wattstown (you can find a description of it on-line). This was a working colliery, that had a training district underground.
On my first day, ten trainees were loaded into the cage, along with two trainers. One of the trainers looked at us and said: ‘Now don’t forget, lads, keep your mouths wide open as we descend, this will stop your eardrums from exploding.’ So there we all were, descending 1500 feet with our mouths gaping. In the gloom, I could see the shoulders of the two trainers – who had turned away – shaking. I thought it was the movement of the cage, but – of course – they were laughing…at us!
I was selected to work with a ‘rider’ – a man who travelled the roadways with each journey of coal tubs (drams). We walked about five hundred yards to the haulage engine (a fixed machine with drums and cables; used to pull the drams). The engine-driver tried to start the machine (driven by compressed air called ‘blast’). Nothing happened. He peered down a tube, and then handed me a bucket; with instructions that I return to pit bottom to get the bucket filled with ‘blast’; ‘To top off the engine, see, and get it working.’ I set off, feeling very important to have been given the task.
When I arrive at pit bottom, the man in charge of that area asked me what I wanted. I told him.
Without a flicker, he took the bucket and set in on a bench near a compressed air outlet. He took the pipe, and began to fill the bucket – slowly, from bottom to top, gently easing the pressure as he approached the rim. He tapped the last few drops of ‘blast’ into the bucket, and handed it to me. ‘Watch you don’t spill any.’ He said.
Now I’m not stupid. ‘Where’s the lid?’ I asked. He gave a sigh. ‘You don’t need a lid, boy. Blast is compressed air, see, that means it’s heavier than normal air, and will stay in the bucket until you pour it out.’ And that was exactly what the engine driver did – carefully, through a funnel – just as soon as I arrived back at the engine. It took me quite a while to realise that I’d been fooled; and all with perfectly straight, and honest, faces!
Have a great day, and God bless you.
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Margaret_Ann
Guest
Both of my grandfathers worked in the coal mines in upstate PA. My paternal grandfather knew many different languages so in the mines he was a ‘gofer’ - a messenger between the bosses who spoke English and the miners who were Ukrainian and Welsh. The Welsh in particular were so vehemently against the English that they’d rather die than speak English. So my paternal grandfather was a translator.
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Lots of Welsh miners settled in Pennsylvania in the 19th century (none from my family). There was - even in my childhood - a deal of animosity towards the English upper class (none at all towards the working class).
Before the privatisation of the mines, colliery managers were often viewed as lackeys of the mine owners; and I can see why the Welsh in your grandfather’s pit might refuse to speak to their bosses. It might be, of course, that they were simply taking your grandad for a ride. Us Welsh are possessed of a ‘strange’ sense of humour
Before the privatisation of the mines, colliery managers were often viewed as lackeys of the mine owners; and I can see why the Welsh in your grandfather’s pit might refuse to speak to their bosses. It might be, of course, that they were simply taking your grandad for a ride. Us Welsh are possessed of a ‘strange’ sense of humour
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Margaret_Ann
Guest
You’re Welsh? Awesome!
I have to get ready for Liturgy but will return later.
I have to get ready for Liturgy but will return later.
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Sarcelle
Guest
I have a Welsh friend from Llandudno and she seems to have an animosity towards all things Scottish.
She didn’t have a problem with the English, just the Scots.
She didn’t have a problem with the English, just the Scots.
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The Scots are fine - for us South Walians - except when they beat us at rugby. Of course, your friend is from the north…and they are rather strange folk up there 
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Only kidding. She may well have personal reasons, of course.
Am reminded of when I was a kid, taken by my dad and uncles to Cardiff, to watch Wales v Scotland at the Arms Park. As we were walking past the castle there were several kilted Scots on the battlements, each with one foot up on the wall. One was playing ‘Scotland the Brave’ on the pipes. My dad shouted up: ‘If you could see what we can see you’d be playing Auld Lang Syne!’ I had no idea what he meant
.Only kidding. She may well have personal reasons, of course.
Am reminded of when I was a kid, taken by my dad and uncles to Cardiff, to watch Wales v Scotland at the Arms Park. As we were walking past the castle there were several kilted Scots on the battlements, each with one foot up on the wall. One was playing ‘Scotland the Brave’ on the pipes. My dad shouted up: ‘If you could see what we can see you’d be playing Auld Lang Syne!’ I had no idea what he meant
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Sarcelle
Guest
That explains her reaction.Of course, your friend is from the north…and they are rather strange folk up there
I asked her if she’s ever been to Cardiff and she said kind of dismissively, “Oh, that’s in the South.”
That’s about right
The Welsh are very tribal. Two Welshmen meet for the first time. The first question: ‘Where are you from?’, meaning, what part of Wales. If one is South and the other North…meh!..From the same general region, but different counties…ok…From the same town…yippee…From the same street…Here are the keys to my house, pop in at any time!
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Sarcelle
Guest
Talking about people visiting foreign countries and coming across their fellow country people,The Welsh are very tribal. Two Welshmen meet for the first time. The first question: ‘Where are you from?’, meaning, what part of Wales. If one is South and the other North…meh!..From the same general region, but different counties…ok…From the same town…yippee…From the same street…Here are the keys to my house, pop in at any time!
This reminds me of a German acquaintance visiting Hawaii for the first. He claimed he traveled halfway around the world to escape his neighbor who he found irritating.
One day, he was hiking in a rainforest in the island of Maui and came across a guided group tour. Who did he see in the group tour?
His neighbor.
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Margaret_Ann
Guest
Can you translate the following:
Bryn Athyn
Bryn Mawr
Gwynedd
I don’t want to use Google Translate because it doesn’t translate properly.
When William Penn got his land grant from Charles II and founded Pennsylvania in 1681, the English settled in the city and the Welsh in what is now the suburbs. Then the Germans and Pennsylvania Dutch came and settled further in the suburbs. It’s like concentric circles when you throw a pebble into a pond. You can tell the various ethnic groups by the place names.
Bryn Athyn
Bryn Mawr
Gwynedd
I don’t want to use Google Translate because it doesn’t translate properly.
When William Penn got his land grant from Charles II and founded Pennsylvania in 1681, the English settled in the city and the Welsh in what is now the suburbs. Then the Germans and Pennsylvania Dutch came and settled further in the suburbs. It’s like concentric circles when you throw a pebble into a pond. You can tell the various ethnic groups by the place names.
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