The Lang Pioneer Village Experience

By Marcus

Visiting this historical village that replicated life in Peterborough County in the 19^th century was an experience I surely cannot forget. Being transported back in time, it was particularly fascinating to see the buildings where families like the Ayottes, Fifes, and Fitzpatricks once roamed and lived their every day lives.  During my 3-day experience at Lang Pioneer Village, I was captivated by the number of buildings, artifacts, including tools, and costumes people used during pioneer times. Back in the 1800s it was such a difficult life.

The pioneers lived in cabins that seemed so simple, small and cramped. But, having a shelter, a wood stove for heating and cooking, an area to sleep and eat, was all a family needed. However, according to today’s standards families' homes require so many modern amenities like two car garages, multiple televisions, many rooms and multiple appliances. This journey was so important for me because it allowed me to disconnect from the modern world of phones, electronics and big cities so that I can see how people lived before my time; small communities, small buildings and houses, no electricity and actually connecting with their surroundings for entertainment. 

Keene Hotel, Lang Pioneer Village, Circa 1870's

Something else that I found particularly fascinating was the price of the hotel rooms at the Keene Hotel. The room that they referred to as the “best room” costs a grand total of 75 cents.  I couldn’t believe that 75 cents back then could get you shelter, a hot dinner, fully operational bathroom and a bed to sleep on where as 75 cents cannot even buy you, say, a chocolate bar now-a-days. But I found that the upstairs has a creepy sort of vibe because it was just so dark and knowing it was an old building that inhabited people from a long time ago. To me the building has strong presences of spirits that might have been there before.

Glen Alda Methodist Church, Lang Pioneer Village, Circa 1898

Although it was interesting to see the Hotel, my favorite of all the buildings at Lang Pioneer Village was the Glen Alda Methodist Church. It was my favorite because it seemed so small yet enough space to practice Christianity. Myself being a Christian, it was amazing to see how the people before me practiced religion. The windows were so beautifully tinted and it just filled my mind with knowledge and interest to see an original Hymn number board and an organ from the 1890’s. Sadly, my time at Lang Pioneer Village had to draw to a close but I will always remember what I learned about the importance of preserving our heritage, learning how people lived in the past and the importance of giving back to the community, in which I gave back by helping out at Lang Pioneer Village.

  

Marcus is a grade 10 student at Trinity College School and guest writer for the Museum.

Education Back in the Day

By Erik

As we all know, our ways to live and services around the world have changed through the years, and of course, school is no exception.

I had the chance to travel back in time to the 19th century by visiting Lang Pioneer Village’s school. I became a witness of how classrooms used to be, sorry, how the classroom used to be. That’s right, the school used to be just one classroom with all the students from different grades being taught at the same place.

Another big difference between the past and present of the schools is the way to teach. The 19th century happened years before the birth of the Digital Revolution so people weren’t able to learn or teach through the benefits of technology. Instead, they were taught by chalk boards and used mini chalk boards as notebooks as well. Sure, chalk boards are still being used today to teach, but most of our education and assignments are applied in computers.

Discipline applied in school is another aspect of school that has also changed. They used to have a board telling the rules about the way the students should behave during class and if they refused to obey they would have consequences. Rules in the classroom were simple but solid, for example, not leaving your desk without permission, being silent during class, not disturbing peers, among many other rules. The rough part was the punishment of not following these rules. Through the years the rules became the basic structure of discipline in school but punishments were becoming smoother until the point that punishments were no longer intimidating for kids, much like it is today.

Erik is a grade 11 student at Trinity College School and guest writer for the Museum.

Marcus Vinson

By Suzanne

The following is a fictional story about what it might have been like for a male student who wanted to become a teacher in the late 1800s.

I want to be a teacher. I remember sitting in class, just being so captivated about what the teacher had to say. We weren’t a rich family, but we managed. My sisters and I would walk to school, hand in hand, through my Pa’s fields and over the creek that ran between where we kept the livestock and where we grew the harvest every summer. Carol and Ethel were never as excited to go to school as I was, they were always stopping to chase butterflies or toads or mice. I had to be the mean older brother that dragged them away from their play. They didn’t know it yet, but school was the most important thing in their lives at the moment. It was our ticket to a better, cushier, comfier life. Once we were educated and got good jobs, we could finally get our Ma and Pa to stop working so hard. We could take care of them like they did for us. I wanted to go to a good school, a good high school or college. I didn’t want to wind up like one of those kids sitting in the back of the schoolhouse at 19 years, I wanted something better. When I turned 17 I took the entrance exams for Harvard, it was far away from home, but I wanted it. The exam was on literature, and Greek, and Latin. I remember staying after school almost every day, studying with my teacher. She told me to give up. She said that Harvard was only for rich students but I wouldn’t listen. My Pa got real mad. He wanted me to stay home and help him in the fields. I got a couple spankings, but I knew that he wanted me to succeed; it’d just be hard. He wanted me to make it; he just didn’t think I could. When the time finally came, I wrote the exam. I was shaking. It was scary, my Ma tried to talk me out of going that day. I went anyways. The results didn’t come in until about a week later. I was too scared to go to school until then, or even help Pa out in the field. I stayed in bed, helped Ma take care of Ethel and Carol. I vomited a few times thinking about failing. In the end, I passed. My Ma cried, I think my Pa did too- just where we couldn’t see him. I went on to study at Harvard. I learned an awful lot about Latin, and Greek. I didn’t have much time to visit my family, but we wrote to each other whenever we could. My Pa couldn’t read, so Ma had to read it to the family. Eventually I graduated and became a professor. I wanted to teach, I loved to learn, so I wanted to help others do the same. I went on to teach at several smaller schools, and eventually became a professor at Harvard. My parents were proud, and never failed to express it. I invited them to come live with me, I made a good amount of money at my job, and could afford to take care of them both. They agreed, and brought Carol and Ethel with them. Shortly after the move, Ethel became a seamstress and got married and moved out. Carol never married, but I knew that she was happy. She got a job at the General Store selling fabrics to all the ladies in town. It makes me sad to think of all the kids back home who never made it far in school. I guess they must have taken it for granted. I resolved to never let any kid of mine do that. As I grew older, my Pa and Ma never stopped thanking me. Ma kept the house clean and Pa took care of my gardens. I could never have asked for a better life. I knew to thank myself as it was my work that got me here, even when not another soul believed in me. I guess that’s why I’m writing all this down. I don’t want anyone out there to be wallowing in self-pity, thinking that they have bad luck. Your future is in your hands, you just have to work for it.


Suzanne is a student at Trinity College School and guest writer for the Museum.