Amish America

Them looking at us looking at them

"Don's got a lot of insight into our people.  What he writes is pretty much on the mark."

The Don in question was Donald Kraybill, and the comments made by a Lancaster dairyman who knows him well.  Kraybill was the face on the news programs following Nickel Mines last year, the most widely cited authority by reporters writing the Amish, considered America's foremost expert.

As 'Isaac' and I chatted late last night under the propane glow of the kitchen lamp, I reflected on the idea of living under a bubble as the Amish do.  I'm always curious as to what the Amish think of outsiders' portrayals and interpretations of their culture.  My ears perk up whenever one starts talking about how we talk about them.

I thought back to earlier in the summer.  A young father whose relative happens to live in the farmhouse where Witness was filmed described the movie as interesting (I didn't ask just when he viewed it), while acknowledging that some in the community wished it had never been made.

The tension (for lack of a better word) between 'us' and 'them' is always present.  In the world, but not of it, the Amish dip outside the bubble whenever a customer stops by their business, whenever they push a shopping cart through Wal-Mart aisles or heed the call of the local fire company.  Numerous Amish cherish their English friendships and the chance to engage the world.  Yet home is where the heart is.

Home and the church community are the sanctuary they return to, their unwritten dialect, clothing and custom the comfortable walls of the bubble that shield the outside from slinking too far in.

Yet many continue to yearn for modernity, a jaunt outside the world of buggies and bonnets, if even for just a bit.  Many get it through sanctioned 'release valves'--a weekend ride with a non-Amish brother, a blow-up swimming pool in the backyard, the odd trip to a ballgame or the beach.

A random outsider stopping by is another chance for some minor escapism.  I've had to tear myself away from countless conversations this summer, impelled by the necessity of continuing on with my job.  Yet many times I would have loved to indulge--as much or more for my sake as theirs.

Last night, having put the bookends to another work week, Isaac and I talked late, of Indiana trips and Poland, God and one-room schoolhouses, long after the kids had gone to bed, well after mom had settled the six-week old.  The pleasure was mutual, each enjoying the foray into the other's world. 

I left a bit wiser, but above all, grateful for the chance.

Saints or animal abusers?

I just Google-searched 'amish news' and it seems the Amish are getting some polarized coverage these days. 

If they're not being lauded as an example of how we should all be more forgiving, they are under fire as heartless puppy abusers.

What's the real deal? 

Besides stating the obvious that we should look at the individual and not the whole, the Amish seem to exhibit certain general tendencies across the board. 

I say forgiveness is one of them;  animal abuse generally is not.


photo:  Bill Coleman
Amish have a long history of forgiveness and restraint in the face of persecution.  There are a number of famous stories of the Amish turning the other cheek, forgiving malicious attacks perpetrated against them.  One has been made into a movie. 

The puppy mill issue is a hard one for me, because I've met a lot of puppy breeders, many of whom I took a liking to personally, mostly in Holmes County, Ohio or northern Indiana.  As I've said before, I'm no expert but mom and pups seemed perky and active and happy.

It's tough because I want to believe that the Amish would care about the conditions their animals are kept in.  All evidence I've seen points to the idea that they generally do, whether it be the kid's pony, family goat, or puppies.

And a lot of that just makes financial sense as well--after all, if your horse gets an infection from an improperly-fitted harness and you can't use it for transportation and have to pay for the vet, that hits you square in the wallet. 

I tend to believe this is a case of a few more 'insular' Amish that are taking, okay, I don't like saying this, but here goes, a more 'backward' view of how animals should be treated. 

I also think pups are a hard issue because they are an animal that is humanized and adored by many in the general public.  After all, man's best friend deserves better than your average cow, doesn't it?

photo:  Bill Coleman again.  Visit Bill's site for more!  Thanks Bill

But, if anyone reads this(!) and has an opinion, I would love to hear how you see the issue.

English in the Country

Amish tourism did not begin with Witness.  That 1985 film just made it worse (or better, depending on how you look at it, I suppose).

David Luthy, writing in The Amish Struggle with Modernity, tells us that the first Amish-themed novel came out in 1905 (wait a minute--back when many of us English were still riding around in buggies!), the first Amish postcards around 1915, and the first tourist booklets in 1937.  Oh, and the first reality show in 2004.  Can't forget that. 


After the tourist books came the tour buses and Rosanna of the Amish and Amish Acres and then Weird Al and so on and so forth.  And for many Amish (dramatic voice) life has never been the same. 

That doesn't necessarily mean worse, though.  All those tour buses that crowd the roads carry nice English folks that like quilts and hickory rockers and all sorts of homey things like that.  They also come equipped with credit cards.


At the same time, I'm sitting here thinking how bizarre it would be to have people come from 500 miles away just to drive past my house, point at me while I worked in the yard, and snap photos of my kids. 


Still, respect to the Amish, most of whom are able to ignore it, doing their best to be friendly when tourist season hits.   The worst I've ever heard is some light complaining  (i.e. 'I can't stand going into town in the summer'.  'People drive too fast'.  'Now watch me smack the camera out of that Englisher's hands.' Uhh, ok you got me.  That last one was a bit of a stretcher). 



The postcard is from a really nice site, Penny Postcards, with pictures of, you guessed it, old-timey penny postcards.  Here's one more.  Neat!

Today's tack-on: I know it's thankfully long-gone, but still couldn't resist adding this gem of a quote from a CBS fat-cat on aforementioned reality show.  Why I love Hollywood:  

"To have people who don't have television walk down Rodeo Drive and be freaked out by what they see, I think will be interesting television," said CBS chairman Leslie Moonves, who also oversees UPN. "It will not be denigrating to the Amish."

Aaah, interesting, not denigrating.  I get those two mixed up sometimes.

Time for the 'ultimate bargaining chip'?

'Our goal is to make Lancaster a center for the film industry.'

That's Jay Ingram of the Lancaster Film Commission in an article at Lancaster Online.

The 1985 Harrision Ford blockbuster Witness and the following media and tourist onslaught irked the Lancaster Amish, to say the least. 

Donald Kraybill relates in The Riddle of Amish Culture that the Amish even considered using the 'ultimate bargaining chip', with one bishop mentioning that the Amish 'might have to move away if they were not left alone.'

In the end, they negotiated a four-point agreement with the PA Bureau of Motion Picture and TV Development, ostensibly to prevent being exploited in future.

The Amish aren't too keen on Hollywood, photography, or being used as a 'tourist-luring tool', as one Amishwoman put it.

Witness accelerated the transformation of Lancaster's Amish Country into one of the country's top tourist attractions.

Tourism is a bit of a double-edged sword. 

Uncouth tourist behavior tends to annoy the Amish, but at the same time, tourists provide a solid market for Amish-produced goods.

Some scholars even point out that outside attention may serve to strengthen the group by reminding its members of the specialness of their community.

Witness brought economic and social repercussions on the Lancaster Amish community that are still being felt today.

Would be interesting to hear how local Amish feel about Ingram's intentions.  Is the spirit of the Witness agreement being ignored?

One of the points of the agreement says that the state 'will not promote any script that uses the Amish and/or its culture as subject matter.' 

The current film, being shot right now in the county, is another big-city-meets-the-Amish tale, based on a popular author's novel. 

Why Eli Stutzman fascinates us

The body of ex-Amishman Eli Stutzman--convicted of one murder, suspected in four others--lies in a Texas morgue, unclaimed by his former Ohio Amish community.

Stutzman's DNA may be the case-breaker in the 1985 deaths of two Colorado men.

Gregg Olsen, author of Abandoned Prayers, commented on the case which has hounded him for the past 20 years.

Olsen makes an interesting point--if Ida (Stutzman's wife and supposed first victim) hadn't been Amish, there would have been a full investigation of her death.

We often perceive the Amish as above blame.  As many Amish and ex-Amish insist, however, they are just like the rest of the world. 

But not exactly. 

Violent crime such as murder is extremely rare in Amish society.  When it happens, we notice.  Nickel Mines is one horrific instance of that.

But in the 250-year-old Lancaster County settlement, the only other killing in memory occurred when an Amish woman was murdered by a non-Amish neighbor in 1982.

Why does the Amish-violence mix get so much attention?

The Amish are famously pacifist. 

They submitted to massacre by Indians in the 18th century. 

They took physical and verbal abuse as conscientious objectors during the World Wars. 

When faux-Amish Harrison Ford decked the bear-baiting goon in Witness, the real-life community went into uproar.

It's the seeming incongruities--like when we see an Amishman on a cell phone, or filling up a Big Gulp--that fascinate us.

Thankfully, the sight of an Amishman on Verizon or at the Quik-E-Mart is much more common than in the nightly crime round-up. 

Debunking some Speech Myths

The Amish don't use 'thee', 'thine', or 'thou', as you might think after watching Weird Al's video.

Neither do they speak like Alexander Godunov or Jan Rubes did in Witness.  Check that, at least one Amishman that Amish America knows of does--but he was born in Germany and converted to the faith in his 20's.    

They mostly speak English like any rural Americans would.  Though you could say there is such a thing as an Amish accent, including some peculiar turns of phrase and pronunciation...

It often varies by region.  Illinois Amish have a funny way of saying 'Iowa.'  It comes out 'Io-way.'

Amish i's often go long when they're not supposed to.  Some kind-hearted Michigan Amish once told the author about their 'favo-right' music.

Amish i's also become long e's.  'Six' sounds like 'seex'.  'Mischief' is spoken 'mis-cheef'.

The word 'anymore' gets used in puzzling ways.  It seems to substitute for 'nowadays', or 'lately', as in, "anymore, it's hard to find a good vet around here."

Sara E. Fisher and Rachel K. Stahl, authors of The Amish School, excerpt a letter from The Blackboard Bulletin, a periodical for Amish teachers. The writer speaks of being frustrated at finding out that she has been pronouncing a word incorrectly for many years, asking 'if we go to a school where an Amish teacher...doesn't pronounce the words correctly either, how are we supposed to learn better?'    

In reality it's actually very charming, probably in the same way that an American that is 99% fluent in a foreign language might amuse a native listener with a slightly odd turn of speech.  It reflects nothing on the general Amish level of education, which, while only going through the 8th grade, is sufficient for the typical Amish way of life.

Amish schools do their job well.  Brad Igou includes a Family Life editor's letter in The Amish in their Own Words which describes a University of Michigan study of Amish parochial schools.  In it, the parochial schools get the best marks out of the five categories tested. 

English is a second language for the Amish.  Amongst themselves, they speak an oral dialect called Pennsylvania Dutch or Pennsylvania German.  The Amish can communicate perfectly in English, or very close to it.  Occasionally an Amishman will stop in the middle of speaking and search for a word, often apologizing that he could say it better in German.   

Most Amish children learn English when they first go to school, though some pick it up while still at home. This also varies by settlement and how often the kids are around English speakers.  Business owners' 'pre-scholars' are often among the best at English, especially if their father has a lot of English clients.

And finally, Pennsylvania Dutch has little to do with what they speak in the Netherlands.  Here, 'Dutch' is most likely an Anglicized version of 'Deutsch'.