Originally published at National Catholic Register
When I was a young boy growing up in the Polish American community of Lynn, Massachusetts, during World War II, my mother used to tell me stories about my maternal grandmother. A remarkable lady who came to the United States from Poland with four sisters to forge a new life, she died during the Depression, before I got the chance to know her. I wish I had.
Her name was Helena. She married my grandfather and they had two children — my mother and uncle. Unfortunately, my grandfather died following an accident in a local factory when my mother and uncle were young children.
Pioneer in Medicine
My grandmother realized that as a widow with two children, she had to find a way to support her family. Having mastered English sufficiently well, Helena decided to go to Chicago, where she studied to be a midwife. Her keen intelligence and passion for her vocation immediately came to the attention of the medical doctors who taught midwives. One of the doctors urged her to continue her studies and earn a medical degree.
After all, the gender barrier in medicine had been broken in the United States by Dr. Elizabeth Blackwell. Grandma was
