No, she didn’t come to me in a vision, but next best thing was a 735 page biography of her and Franklin taken from her own papers. (In truth I was supposed to read the newer one that is half as long and called Franklin and Eleanor, but by means of a kerfuffle with my book club I read Eleanor and Franklin, at twice the word count and ten times the detail!)
But I loved it! Well, most of it, I skipped the dull political parts. But there were surprisingly few of them. Her life covered such a remarkable period—from the gilded age in the 1880’s all the way to the 1960’s—including both world wars—and she was almost every moment at the heart of the action. Her Uncle Teddy was president ahead of the First World War (she was much more closely related to Teddy than FDR was), FDR served as Secretary of the Navy during the first war, and then FDR was president throughout the second one. (Did you know he served three full terms and was elected to a fourth, during which he died after about a year?)
Her family was among the gilded few in New York society at the end of the 19th century, enormously wealthy and privileged. And yet Eleanor was your classic poor little rich girl, with a mother who didn’t care for her and a father busy drinking himself to death. She was raised by an overbearing grandmother and then, after marrying Franklin, moved under the despotic shadow of her mother-in-law.
She always considered herself ugly and overly tall, awkward and largely unlovable. So how does a woman like this step out into the light as the foremost brave and commanding woman of not only her age, but perhaps ours as well?
This is what I learned from Eleanor Roosevelt this week.
It’s not about wit, for she was never witty. Her cousin Alice Longworth (nee Roosevelt—Teddy’s daughter) was always the witty one, quick to make a joke at Eleanor’s expense.
Eleanor was cowed by her cousin throughout their youth. And then, when she and Franklin moved to the White House, Alice resented the attention Eleanor was getting and began doing a cruel impersonation of Eleanor all over D.C. What did Eleanor make of this? Alice was invited to the White House numerous times, and then, when the burlesque became well known, Eleanor asked to see it, saying, “Alice has a talent for that sort of thing.”
Wind sucked from sails by means of an amiable word.
Eleanor never held a public office, never sought attention and, in fact, was careful always to deflect attention back to her husband. By this means she was much more effective at what she considered her work, which was to “improve conditions for all.”
Simple to say. Nearly impossible to do. And yet FDR, with Eleanor behind him, acting as his conscience and his cattle prod, managed to enact the New Deal. The New Deal was the foundation of nearly every social program we have now, including Social Security and Medicare. And of course, in Eleanor’s view, it didn’t go nearly far enough or help nearly enough people. But they dealt with the exact same set of self-serving politicians then that we do now, always quick to resist anything that smelled of helping the poor.
Here’s what made Eleanor so effective. In a time long before the internet, Eleanor Roosevelt managed to go viral. She was the publicist for the New Deal. How? Largely by means of a daily—yes, daily—widely-syndicated newspaper column that she wrote faithfully throughout her years in the White House (and in fact until her death in 1962). It was called ‘My Day’ and was not about the New Deal. Or about politics at all. It was simply a candid, diary-like review of how she spent her time, told in a chatty, conversational style. She told of dinners with statesmen, sleigh rides with her grandchildren, tours of institutions like the District Training School for Delinquent Girls, “sallying forth” to purchase her winter wardrobe in just under two hours. She did no preaching or proselytizing, but her warm sympathy came through the lines.
Such that, when it came time for Franklin to run for president again, how did it hurt that a large percent of people read her column and felt they knew her? Or that she enjoyed an approval rating consistently as high—and sometimes much higher—than FDR’s?
Eleanor championed nearly every do-good cause of her day. She was a voice for women, for black people, for poor children and unemployed youth. But her support for these causes only mattered because she garnered almost universal respect. Tireless in her work, loyal in her friendships, faithful in completing her commitments, honest in her correspondence—even when addressing conflict. Eleanor was, in every moment, the Real Deal.
And she did this despite her husband’s infidelity, her mother-in-law’s continued disapproval, and her grown children’s frequent negligence. Her strength, it seemed, had to come only from herself. From her commitment to do the right thing even when it was hard or unpopular. But she was also savvy and smart and knew when to step back and let time pass. Or when to shut the door on someone who had violated trust.
You don’t navigate the treacherous waters of the public eye for over twelve years and come out smelling like roses for nothing. Certainly she had her detractors, but even those who disagreed with her politics were hard-pressed to dislike her personally. She was never pretentious, never self-serving—in fact she never wished to be First Lady and would have loved to be out of the public eye.
I learned a great deal from Eleanor Roosevelt this week about how to be the person we all wish to be. About true grit and courage. About how little glamor it holds, but how, in the end, you can only hope to feel, when you rest your head, that you’ve done good work.
None of us has done as much for as many as Eleanor did, and perhaps never will. But we can learn from her!
I’m going on to read the other (much shorter!) biography I haven’t read yet!
