3 Lessons Our Ancestors Can Teach us About Grit

100 million Americans can trace their roots to Ellis Island.

Including me.

My father’s grandparents arrived from Sicily and Calabria just a few years into the start of the 20th century.

Like many before and many after, they brought with them lofty dreams, ambitions, but mostly a desire to give their children a better life.

As a boy, whenever I failed to appreciate all I had, my folks would remind me of the great sacrifices made by those before.

I’d nod my head and promise to shape up, pretending I had some semblance of what they were talking about.

I didn’t.

How could I?

The struggles of our predecessors were on a COMPLETELY different plain.

— At the turn of the 20th century, life expectancy hovered around 49.

— Diseases and epidemics of the early 1900s included a smörgåsbord of ailments including cholera, small pox, and and typhus.

— And upon arriving in New York City, one had to navigate their way through a very strange land, while quickly securing work, and avoiding the scores of conmen trying to swindle vulnerable new settlers.

To put it plainly, life was hard.

In a time where survival no longer depends on leaving the comfort of our homes, it’s easy to lose perspective on the sacrifices that ushered in that very progress.

But by taking a look at the past, our forefathers can teach us a thing or two about the importance of cultivating grit.

Here are a 3 lessons my great-grandparents taught me about tightening my belt and moving forward.

If you’re unhappy with your life, have the courage to change something about it

“Being requires becoming.”

Int he late 19th century, Italy experienced calamity of almost biblical proportions. In Calabria and Sicily bread riots broke out in 1880.

Earthquakes, drought, landslides, excessive heat, and a plant lice calledphylloxera wiped out most of the wine industry that many Italians depended on for their livelihood.

Between 1884 and 1887 there was a cholera epidemic that killed fifty-five thousand people.

These were just some of the factors that led nearly 5.3 million Italians to leave for America by the end of the 19th century.

Simply put, they’d had enough.

As a result, they rented horse drawn-carts or walked, carrying everything they owned to the seaports of Naples and Genoa.

They left with hope but also heavy hearts. Many knew it would be the last time they ever saw their families again.

The trip across the Atlantic took two to three weeks, demanding an unbreakable spirit and equally durable stomach.

Narrow corridors, poor ventilation, low-ceilings, and crowded spaces were expected parts of the journey.

Still, they forged on.

They understood that vision without action was delusion and that meaningful change and progress was only possible if they started from a place of truth.

Their circumstances needed to changed.

They fixed what they could, consulted their unhappiness, and knew what they did today would influence tomorrow.

Just begin

“It’s the job that’s never started as takes longest to finish.” — J.R.R. Tolkien

Upon arriving at Ellis Island, immigrants were exhausted physically, spiritually, and emotionally.
Assuming they survived the worst of the journey, travelers were then surrounded by men sporting military-looking uniforms for an eye inspection.

One of the most common reasons immigrants were barred from entering the United States was because of a contagious eye disease called, trachoma.

If you failed the exam, you were sent right back home.

Needless to say, this was not only heart-breaking but tore many families apart.

Medical examiners also placed large chalk marks on the weary travelers who appeared to have a disability or unchecked ailment.

There was then a verbal examination, which preceded the fate of thousands of immigrants as they waited anxiously in the Great Hall.

If you were able to pass all the necessary requirements you then walked down a narrow corridor towards a door, which had a sign that simply read:

Push. To New York.

So, what did they do?

They pushed.

They had to.

Today, too many people live with untapped potential, unrealized dreams, and abandon the belief they have value to offer the world.

Why?

They claim they don’t know where to start.

But if our forefathers had believed the same, you wouldn’t be reading this.

Instead, they took chances amidst the ambiguity and chaos of their new world.

— They settled in urban areas

— They worked in construction

— They worked as ditch-diggers

— They built roads

— They laid cable

— They started families

— They learned to avoid swindlers

— They toughened up

— They wised up

They figured it out because they got started.

3. Don’t Settle

“Enthusiasm is common. Endurance is rare.” — Angela Duckworth

Life didn’t magically improve once the new settlers arrived in America.

Far from it.

At the start of the 20th century, the Lower East Side of New York City had nearly 300,000 people living per square mile.

In “Mulberry Bend,” the worst slum in the city, there were 1,200 people living in one block of tenements.

It was common for up to ten people to be living in a single room.

Places like Hell’s Kitchen where my grandfather was from, were tough neighborhoods where street gangs and crime were rampant.

Ramshackle houses in the Lower East Side were literally known as “Dens of Death,” because of the unsanitary living conditions.

This was a place where the sun literally never shined.

But despite these enormous challenges, most immigrants pulled themselves together and moved out within a year.

How?

They didn’t leave their homes, travel 4,000 miles across a choppy Atlantic, and sacrifice everything they had just to settle.

In other words, they didn’t come this far just to come this far.

Instead, the immigrants relied on one another.

— They sought family support.

— They chose work, regardless of how menial, over charity.

— And if they couldn’t secure work, they sold rags or just about anything they could find on the streets.

Once again, they found a way.

As a result, many Italians were able to upgrade to better living conditions in places like south Brooklyn, Greenwich Village, Harlem, and even places as faraway as California.

My great-grandparents, like many of yours, understood the greatest impediment to succeeding was complacency and taking false comfort in the notion that life had no more to offer.

They did work that was uncelebrated, worked collectively to make their circumstances better, and ultimately rose to what they were capable of.