Tow The Line
Tow the line
I always thought they said, “tow the line,” and that made sense to me. I grew up on the Erie canal, and I knew the history of men pulling barges with thick, heavy ropes. Sure, mostly they used mules, but on our barge canal field trip in fifth grade I am quite certain that the guide said that in certain areas, men had to pull the boats by hand. Tow the line. Shut up, give your employer every last ounce of sweat and strength you have. Remember you are just an anonymous, faceless animal to be used and thrown away by big industry.
I remember thinking about straining muscles and sweat and dirt and how much those men would need a shower at the end of the day. I remember thinking that I hoped I would never have to work manual labor for a living.
Toe the line
Line up. Be orderly, quiet, get counted, conform. I get it. But it lacks the element of sacrifice.
Besides, pulling barges is an act of conformity also. One must pull evenly with your teammates or it goes off-kilter. If you fall behind, the load can run over you and drag you behind it.
The act of pulling heavy weight requires a head-down position, so you can’t see what your employer is doing. I have pulled people in sleds, I have pulled heavy bags of dog food. I have actually pulled boats with lines, but not barges. My body understands the feel of towing the line. When you pull a heavy weight, you don’t have breath to speak up, speak out.
I think my version is better. Look at the posture of the people pulling the truck:
Now look at people toeing the line:
Upright. Looking forward. Mouths not agape from exertion. They have a sense of dignity.
Unfortunately, I have to toe the line in writing so that I don't look provincal or uneducated. But secretly, I will always think of it as tow the line, and they can't stop me.