Tag Archives: Women in Congress

Comes the reckoning

We met Debbie Millbern Powers last time, a girl who desperately wanted to play basketball. But at every turn, she was told it wasn’t possible. Couldn’t she just try out for cheerleading and be grateful for it?

            For a ninth grade essay, Debbie wrote about her dream of being a professional basketball player and play on the U.S. Olympic women’s basketball team. Although she got an A- on the essay, her teacher added a note.

            “There are no such teams for girls,” she wrote. “With your athletic talents, you might want to switch to cheerleading.”

            Not again!

            “It’s hard to explain to girls today that we couldn’t play sports back then,” Debbie says. “It’s just the way it was. We sat in the bleachers and cheered for the boys, and then we played at recess.”*

One shining moment

            In fact, Debbie never got the chance to play for her schools. That is, with one exception. One day when she was in ninth grade, some of her teachers watched her shooting baskets in the gym.

            A school assembly was coming up, the teachers said, and the male teachers were playing an exhibition game against the boys’ ninth-grade basketball team. Would she play for the teachers’ team?

            “That would be cool!” she said. And it was. For the first time, at the age of 14, Debbie heard cheering and knew it was for her. It was a taste of heaven, she remembers.

            Although Debbie knew now that she had no path to professional sports, she wasn’t deterred.

            “If there’s no tomorrow,” she remembers thinking, “I want to take this at least as far as I can.”

            While still in high school,Debbie finally found an outlet playing for a women’s league on a team sponsored by a local business. And when she went off to Indiana University, she finally had her basketball tryout and easily made the team.

The ungrateful wretches

            Even there, it was an old, old story. The girls didn’t have official uniforms. They pressed numbers onto white shirts and added their own red shorts. Their gym had no bleachers, so spectators had to stand along the sidelines. 

            The “didn’t have” list went on: No locker rooms, no weight rooms. No food budgets at tournaments — the players made sandwiches and ate them in restrooms. At one tournament, they slept on the floor of a classroom, bringing their own sleeping bags and pillows. While they eventually got uniforms, their away uniforms were the wrong color — random closeouts that the school got on clearance. No trainers or medical facilities. When Debbie injured her knee senior year, she iced and nursed it on her own. (Fifteen years later, she learned that she’d torn her ACL and needed surgery.).

            Meanwhile, the men had the new gym, luxury buses, hotel rooms, food budgets, basketball shoes and uniforms that were laundered for them. The women were told to be grateful for what they had. Apparently, sports were still a man’s right but only a concession for women.

            In her senior year, Debbie’s team won their regional final, with hopes for a national title. She and teammate Tara VanDerveer – today the winningest coach in women’s basketball history! – roomed together in a small bunk bed dorm room. After a wrenching defeat, their basketball dreams died.

The upside to missing out

            But that’s not the end of Debbie’s story.

            Fortunately for Debbie, she discovered a love of teaching and coaching. She graduated with a physical education degree and took a teaching and coaching job with Muncie (IN) Northside High School.

            “What other choice did I, or others like me, have?” she says. “There was still no professional women’s basketball. We didn’t see women sportswriters or women sportscasters on TV. Being a PE teacher and a coach was the only way forward.”

            And here’s the unexpected twist about Debbie’s dilemma. The women who straddled Title IX, missing out on its impact, forged an entirely new path. If women were eventually going to play professional sports, they needed professional coaching. Women like Debbie — coaches like Debbie (and Tara) — created a world of opportunity for those following in their wake.

            We’ll finish up Debbie’s story next time. In dramatic fashion, her high school coaching career culminated in a tournament with a surprisingly relevant question: Is it fair for boys to play on girls’ teams?

                                                                ____________________________

* Quotes in the present tense (says) are from my telephone interview with Debbie on April 19, 2022. Quotes in the past tense (said) are from her book, Meeting Her Match: The Story of a Female Athlete-Coach, Before and After Title IX (Leeper Publishing, 2014). https://amzn.to/37GDadG

In the bleak before-times

In college, Debbie Millbern Powers was a teammate of Tara VanDerveer, today the winningest coach in women’s college basketball. In tournaments, she faced Margie Wright, who went on to a sparkling career as a college and Olympic softball coach. Fellow Indiana University student Jane Pauley interviewed Debbie for a journalism class. Legendary men’s basketball coaches Branch McCracken and Bobbie Knight cheered her on from the sidelines.

            But this isn’t what Debbie wants to talk about. She’s not a name dropper by nature.

            What Debbie wants to talk about is the heartbreak of being a female athlete before females were allowed to be athletes.     

            “In my soul, I knew I was an athlete, and yet they told me I couldn’t be,” she recalls. “I knew it, and yet I worried, ‘Is something wrong with me’?”*

Girls need not apply

            You see, Debbie’s life spans Title IX. Her childhood was spent in the before-times, and she graduated college in 1973, just one year after Title IX was enacted and years before it made any real difference to women’s athletics.

            When you read her memoir, Meeting Her Match: The Story of a Female Athlete-Coach, Before and After Title IX, you’re overwhelmed by her feelings of utter dejection each time her aspirations are thwarted. Hers is not a saccharine story of bucking up and carrying on.

            Take, for example, the moment in fourth grade when the school was holding tryouts for a basketball team. “Boys only,” the teacher told her.

            “Tears began to flood my eyes. I sat down on the gym floor and sobbed as the feelings of injustice and desperation engulfed me,” she said.

            Or the time a teacher took her aside at recess and told her to stop playing with boys and act more like a girl, that it wasn’t normal for a girl to be as competitive as a boy. This time, she blinked back the tears, but the teacher’s words stung.

             Act more like a girl? What does she mean by that? I am a girl. I’m a girl who happens to like playing sports.  

            Each time her ambition to play basketball was thwarted, those blocking her way had the same advice for her: Why don’t you go out for cheerleading?**

            “I don’t want to be a cheerleader, I don’t want to play hopscotch, I want to play basketball!” she says she remembers thinking.

Is that all there is?

            Even in her own home, her mother had different rules for her, the daughter. Shooting hoops on the driveway with her brother and his friends after school, Debbie was called in to set the table for dinner. Not her brother, just her.

            “These were the days of Miss America pageants, of expectations that girls grow up, get married and learn how to make a good meatloaf,” she says. “I thought, Is this what my life is going to be? I’m going to be horrible at it. I want to play on a team. I want to play basketball.”

            On the night of her brother’s first basketball game, Debbie watched from the sidelines, consumed with jealousy. In the dark of her bedroom that night, she ached with the sorrow of her broken dreams. She prayed a girlish but sincere prayer of desperation.

            “Dear God,” she prayed. “I have a huge favor to ask… could you please turn me into a boy during the night so I can play on a real team?”

Dad to the rescue

            Fortunately, she had someone on her team, not someone who could turn her into a boy, but someone who could see her despair — her father. One day he came home with a box under his arm, a present for his sports-loving daughter. Her first pair of basketball sneakers!

            “I felt like Cinderella in her magic slippers!” she said.

            Still, she had doubts about herself.

            “You just didn’t feel normal back then if you wanted to play sports,” she says. Yet, in truth, the character building that sports provide don’t confine themselves to one gender.

            “The camaraderie of working together as a team, making friends, setting goals, learning to lose gracefully and win humbly. In sports, you develop the attributes that make us good human beings,” she says.

            Well, we all know that now. But a few people, like Debbie, knew it long before everyone else. I’ll continue her story in the next blog post.

                                    _________________________

* Quotes in the present tense (says) are from my telephone interview with Debbie on April 19, 2022. Quotes in the past tense (said) are from her book, Meeting Her Match: The Story of a Female Athlete-Coach, Before and After Title IX (Leeper Publishing, 2014). https://amzn.to/37GDadG

** Nothing against cheerleaders! I was one once.

A forgotten force

Last week, I listened in on a conversation with author Sherry Boschert about her new Title IX book, 37 Words: 50 Years of Fighting Sex Discrimination. She threw out a name I hadn’t yet heard: Margaret Dunkle.

            Too often, we simplify great movements by choosing one name to ascribe success to and ignore all the others whose hard work brought results. I think this has happened to Dunkle.

            From 1972 to 1979, Dunkle worked with Bernice Sandler on research for Title IX for the Association of American Colleges and then in the Department of Health, Education and Welfare, the government agency that became responsible for enforcing Title IX.

            Dunkle and Sandler, “The Godmother of Title IX,” worked to identify areas of sex discrimination in educational settings. At first, the focus was on women being barred from graduate and professional schools — medical, law, business schools. It was perfectly legal for schools to use quotas, limits, even marital status, to block women from education and careers.

Unearthing the athletic identity

            Very quickly, though, Dunkle found that discrimination was most visible in the realm of athletics. There, discrimination was easy to identify — women’s sports were almost nonexistent. And athletics had a strong, emotional pull on the national psyche.

            “Athletics was becoming a metaphor for strong, able women on the playing field and in life,” Dunkle said.*

            In those days, there wasn’t any data to unearth and analyze. To make the case for Title IX, researchers had to compile their information one anecdote, one campus news clipping, one phone call at a time. “We had to rely on a story or an example that rang true,” Dunkle said.**

            The discrimination Dunkle’s team unearthed is well known today. Paltry to nonexistent budgets for women’s athletics meant that female athletes had to hold bake sales and sell candy or Christmas trees to fund their teams. They rode on rickety buses, while men’s teams rode cushy chartered buses. They practiced in the early morning or late at night, when men weren’t using facilities. They had no scholarships, no training facilities, no medical attention, no uniforms, no nothing.

            Some of the cases of discrimination are jaw dropping today. In one case, Boschert said, researchers found that women had to use athletic tape that the men had used and discarded. In another, Dunkle found that a college didn’t allow a woman to use their handball courts unless a man signed her in. Universities routinely barred women from taking coaching courses, so that on graduation, they were considered not qualified to coach, and therefore, had no path for professional advancement.

Killing off those myths

            Before addressing these blatant issues, Dunkle and her research team had to first battle centuries-old myths about women participating in sports.

            “Women have not been encouraged to participate in athletics at least partly because the traits associated with athletic excellence — achievement, self-confidence, aggressiveness, leadership, strength, swiftness — are often seen as being in contradiction with the role of women,” she wrote in a seminal report. “Myths die slowly.”***

            It was hard to convince even women themselves that they deserved the same opportunities as men.

            “The inequities have been so great, women have gotten so little in the past, that many women will fear a backlash from the men if they push too hard,” Dunkle said. “Once they [women] get crumbs, they’ll feel like they’re gorging themselves. It takes a while to get rid of double standards.”****

            The injustice seems so blatant, doesn’t it? But this was all new thinking at the time. Dunkle was a Title IX trailblazer, just as Bernice Sandler was. Just as Reps. Edith Green and Patsy Mink were. Just as Sen. Birch Bayh was.

            Thank you, Sherry, for introducing me to this remarkable woman! My copy of your book is on its way now. I can’t wait to read it!

                                                ____________________

* “Margaret Dunkle: Writing Title  IX’s Playbook on Sports.” Sherry Boschert’s 2016 interview with Margaret Dunkle. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GyBGZ3oPyr8

** Kristine Cornils’s 2012 “Top of the Morning” interview. A local show highlighting the achievements of remarkable Maryland natives. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_pYWq9m3mUs&t=382s

*** Sandler and Dunkle, “What Constitutes Equality for Women in Sports: Federal Law Puts Women in the Running” (Association of American Colleges, Project on the Status and Education of Women, 1974). Prepared for the Department of Health, Education and Welfare.

**** Jay Searcy, “Foe of Men’s Myth Braces for Battle,” New York Times (July 14, 1974), p. 25.

NOTE: Sherry Boschert’s website and blog can be found at http://www.sherryboschert.com/

Undercover marathon women

Yesterday, runners competed in the Boston Marathon, a race that has been run since 1897. Race organizers were inspired by the Olympic marathon of 1896, when the Games were reintroduced into modern times.

            But, of course, at its inception, women were excluded from the Boston Marathon. It wasn’t until decades later, in 1972, that a women’s race was finally introduced.

            But two women didn’t wait around for that to happen.

Bobbi, not Bobbie

            In 1966, Roberta “Bobbi” Gibb ran the Boston Marathon, but she had to do it undercover. The Boston Athletic Association’s rule book didn’t say anything about runners’ gender, so she didn’t hesitate to train for the event.

            “I didn’t know the marathon was closed to women,” she said. “I set about training in nurses’ shoes with no instructions, no coach and no books.”*

            In February 1966, she mailed a request for an application form. Her answer came back from the race director — under international athletic rules, Will Cloney said, women can’t compete in the marathon, and besides, women aren’t physically capable of running that far.

            “I could run 40 miles at stretch,” she scoffed. “I’d see the top of a distant mountain, small and pale blue in the distance, and I’d spend all day running there, just to stand at the top.”

            That April, Gibb took a bus from her home in California to her parents’ house just a few miles outside Boston. On the day of the race, she donned a swimsuit and a pair of men’s shorts, and her mother dropped her off at the starting line. There, she hid in the bushes until the starting gun went off. At that, she jumped out and started running.

            She ran a conservative race, determined to finish, no matter what. To her delight, fellow runners and spectators cheered her on. Despite her restraint, she finished the race in 3 hours, 21 minutes and 40 seconds, ahead of two-thirds of the male runners. The governor of Massachusetts was at the finish line to shake her hand.

Dame K.V. registers

            The next year, a second woman ran the marathon. Kathrine Switzer managed to register for the race using her initials, K.V. Switzer. A student at Syracuse University, she had been training with Arnold Briggs, a 50-year-old former marathon runner who had entered the Boston Marathon 15 times. But even he was angry about Switzer’s intent.

            “No dame ever ran the Boston Marathon!” he shouted at her.**

            But Switzer reminded him about Gibb and insisted she could go the distance. Finally, Briggs relented and agreed to help her train.

            “Hot damn, I thought, I have a coach, a training partner, a plan, and a goal: the biggest race in the world—Boston!” Switzer told herself.

            She did indeed prove her endurance, and off she went to Boston with Briggs, her boyfriend and another runner. The day was cold and raw, so she was covered up in sweats, her gender obscured at the starting line.

            Even so, word quickly got around that a girl was running. At Mile 4, Switzer heard a truck coming up and the sound of leather shoes slamming on the pavement behind her. It was race organizer Jock Semple, enraged that a woman was running. He grabbed her shoulder and tried to yank off her bib.

            “Get the hell out of my race and give me those numbers!” he shouted.

            Switzer squeezed out of his grasp, and her fellow runners shoved Semple out of the way.

            “There was a thud—whoomph!—and Jock was airborne,” she recalled. “He landed on the roadside like a pile of wrinkled clothes.”

            Switzer was scared, humiliated and angry all at once. But she kept running.

            “If I quit, Jock Semple and all those like him would win,” she said.

            Switzer finished the race in 4 hours and 20 minutes. And, by the way, Bobbi Gibb ran the race (again without registering), finishing an hour ahead of Switzer. Over the next few years, women ran the marathon unofficially until finally, in 1972, the race was opened to women. 

            Both Gibb and Switzer were aware they weren’t just running a simple race. Their feat meant so much more than that.***

            “It was a pivotal point in the evolution of social consciousness. It changed the way men thought about women, and it changed the way women thought about themselves,” Gibb said. “It replaced an old false belief with a new reality.”

                                                _____________________________

* Gibb’s quotes are from her article, “A Run of One’s Own,” Women’s Sports Foundation. She also wrote about her life in To Boston With Love (CreateSpace, 2016). http://runningpast.com/gibb_story.htm

** The quotes from Switzer’s story are from “The Girl Who Started It All,” Runner’s World (Emmaus, PA: Rodale, April 2007). She later expanded on the article in her book, Marathon Woman: Running the Race to Revolutionize Women’s Sports (New York: Carroll & Graf, 2007). https://kathrineswitzer.com/1967-boston-marathon-the-real-story/

*** Switzer went on to help organize more than 400 international women’s races, using data from the competitions to lobby the International Olympic Committee to add a woman’s marathon to the Games — which they did in 1984. In 2017, Boston Marathon officials retired Bib #261.

No crying in baseball this month

The last few weeks have been great ones for female athletes breaking into the male dominated sport of baseball. Four women led the charge, realizing their dream on the diamond.

            This week, San Francisco Giants assistant coach Alyssa Nakken became the first woman in Major League Baseball history to coach on the field. She took over when the regular first base coach was ejected from the game. Nakken worked in the team’s front office before becoming an assistant coach in 2020.

            Last week, Rachel Balkovec became the first woman to manage an MLB minor league affiliate, skippering the Tampa Tarpons, a Class A affiliate of the New York Yankees. The Yankees promoted her from her previous job as a minor league hitting coach, and everyone knows she’s earned her position.

            “She’s not a token hire. Whether she’s male or female, it doesn’t change the fact that she is a great coach,” said Yankees hitting coach Dillon Lawson.*

            Meanwhile, Team USA’s Kelsie Whitmore signed with the Atlantic League’s Staten Island FerryHawks. (The Atlantic League is a professional league one level below MLB.) A pitcher, Whitmore won silver in the 2014 Women’s Baseball World Cup and gold at the 2015 Pan American Games.

            Finally, last month, Alexis “Scrappy” Hopkins was drafted by the Atlantic League’s Kentucky Wild Health Genomes. With these signings, Whitmore and Hopkins become the first female players to take on-field positions in professional baseball.  

            Hopkins got her nickname for her style of play as a catcher and utility player. But she didn’t always see this future. When she was asked to write a college essay about a dream, she didn’t mention baseball.

            “I was going to put down professional baseball player, but I actually didn’t because I was like, ‘That’s never gonna happen,’” she said. “But I guess here we are today making a dream come alive.”**

Forging a path to home plate

            Women’s achievements in this sport are particularly notable because there’s no path for women who want to play pro baseball. Girls are most often steered — even shoved — into softball. Some women prefer that sport, as it allows them to compete on a team of women with other women.***

            But if a girl really wants to play baseball, she has to break into the male domain. We’ve talked about Maria Pepe, who in 1972 forced Little League Baseball to accept girls.

            But after Little League, then what? My son’s Cal Ripken and Babe Ruth teams had no female players. His college’s varsity and club teams had no female players. His adult rec league has no female players.

            But girls do indeed play baseball. TEAM USA includes collegiate, national and Olympic teams. Just recently, about 130 colleges across the country committed to allowing women to try out for their men’s teams. An organization called Baseball For All is also pushing colleges to form women’s club baseball teams and baseball programs with NCAA status. 

Take a ride with Geena Davis

            Because of the movie “A League of Their Own,” everyone knows about the All-American Girls Professional Baseball League. During and after World War II, from 1943 to 1954, ten teams competed, with about 600 women participating.

            The league still exists today, promoting baseball for women. In 2019, the AAGPBL established a non-profit, American Girls Baseball, whose mission is to support girls and women who want to play baseball and provide a path to competitive play and financial compensation.

            It’s no surprise that “League of Their Own” actress Geena Davis, who plays star catcher Dottie Hinson, also played a role in Title IX’s history. In 2003, when a federal commission was considering whether colleges could comply with Title IX by using surveys of female students to gauge athletic interest, Davis called that evasive tactic a strikeout.

            “I am here to take you on a short ride in Thelma and Louise’s car if you think it’s fair and just to limit a girl’s opportunity to play sports based on her response to an interest survey,” she said.****

            I’m eager to follow the trajectory of these new initiatives in women’s baseball. Because of my son’s involvement in the game, I’ve come to love it myself. Were I to live my life over, perhaps I’d ditch the music lessons and pick up a baseball mitt instead!

                                                            _____________________

* Elizabeth Merrill, “New York Yankees minor league manager Rachel Balkovec has worked her entire life for this moment,” ESPN (April 8, 2022).

** Legendary softball coach Margie Wright was thrilled to play ball on a women’s team, rather than be the sole female player on a men’s team. Read about Margie’s experiences in my four-part series.

*** Jack Bantock, “Alexis ‘Scrappy’ Hopkins becomes first woman to be drafted by a professional baseball team,” CNN (March 25, 2022).

**** In the 1991 movie, “Thelma and Louise,” the titular characters played by Geena Davis and Susan Sarandon drive over the edge of the Grand Canyon in an impromptu suicide pact. In 1992’s “A League of Their Own,” Davis’s character is based on AAGPBL player Dorothy Green. Davis’s athletic interest is not surprising — in real life, she’s an avid archer.

How the fairy tale ends

When we talk about female athletes of the mid-1900s who broke through gender barriers, we tend to make their stories into ones of pure triumph. And triumph they did.

            But I’ve become curious about their entire lives. What happened when they came to the end of the paltry opportunities they had in pre-Title IX days?

            Some women fared better than others.

Didrikson the dame

            Let’s look at Babe Didrikson, who we talked about last week. At the 1932 Summer Olympics, she won gold in the 80-meter hurdles and the javelin, and silver in the  high jump. She had wanted to enter all five events she qualified for, but at the time, women were only allowed to enter three events. Because, of course, women are fragile!

            She could have chosen almost any sport. She excelled at basketball, swimming, diving, riflery, handball and boxing. She even pitched in a few spring training Major League Baseball games.

            Yet the sporting world wasn’t ready for women in professional sports.

            Sportswriter Joe Williams conceded that Didrikson was a talented amateur, but opined that women don’t belong in professional sports. They can’t break male records and they can’t make the same money male athletes can, he argued — Didrikson was just “cheapening herself” by trying.

            “But let the dame play all the amateur golf she wants to,” he shrugged. “By now, she must have learned there is no money in feminine athletics.*

            Fortunately, Didrikson did turn to professional golf and won 10 LPGA major championships. In her career as a golfer, she brought in a comfortable income. Her best year was 1950, when she entered the U.S. Open, the Titleholders Championship, and the Women’s Western Open, which made her an earnings leader. She was a leading earner again in 1951.

            From then on, illness hobbled her, although she still performed well. But in 1938, she had married wrestler George Zaharias, which no doubt brought her an extra measure of financial stability.

Gibson’s struggle

            It was a different story for tennis player Althea Gibson, who we also talked about last week.

            In 1950, at age 23, Gibson became the first African American player to compete at the U.S. National Championships (the U.S. Open). She was the first African American woman to win major titles: the French Open in 1956, and Wimbledon and the U.S. Nationals in 1957 and 1958.

            But racial bias meant that many white players refused to compete with or against her. Discrimination even affected her game — coaches taught her to play any balls within two inches of a line to avoid conflict with opposing white players.

            When Gibson retired from amateur tennis in 1958, she had made almost no money from it. And with no channel to pursue pro tennis — professional tennis tours for women didn’t fully start until 1973 — she struggled to earn a living.

            No one was interested in her as a tennis pro. Race had a lot to do with that, she knew.

             “To hail my talents in public doesn’t cost anything, but to hire a Negro — and a Negro woman at that — to teach white club members called for a bigger expenditure of courage than most club owners were willing to make,” Gibson said.**

            She tried her hand at golf, as Didrikson had, but it didn’t work out. She played exhibition matches on tour with the Harlem Globetrotters, tried life as a singer, coached a few promising players and ran tennis clinics for children in underserved neighborhoods. 

            But by the mid-1990s, Gibson was sick, alone and living in poverty. She told her best friend, fellow Black tennis player Angela Buxton, that she was going to kill herself.

            “She was calling to say goodbye,” Buxton said. “I said, now wait just a minute.”***

            Through a tennis magazine, Buxton arranged a fundraiser, and money poured in. Gibson went on to have another ten years.

            Gibson lived until age 76, a long time to struggle with income insecurity. And who knows what would have happened for Didrikson? She died at age 45 at the height of her fame and what little fortune she enjoyed. Had she lived longer, her story might have ended much differently.

                                    ____________________________________

* Joe Williams, “Let Her Play Golf, Even If She Is a Pro,” New York World Telegram, reprinted in the Oklahoma News (May 15, 1935), p. 9. In the article, he quotes an earlier, undated column of his.

** Alicia Ault, “Althea Gibson’s Momentous Achievement,” Smithsonian (June 1, 2021), quoting Ashley Brown, a University of Wisconsin historian who is writing a biography of Gibson.

*** Althea Gibson, “Tennis Star Ahead of Her Time, Gets Her Due at Last,New York Times (August 26, 2019).

 

The U.S. Not-So-Open

We last talked about Babe Didrickson, an athlete whose accomplishments began to break down the prejudice against women in sports. But it was another athlete who attacked not only the gender barrier, but the barrier of racial hatred as well.

            In 1950, 23-year-old tennis player Althea Gibson became the first African American player, man or woman, to compete at the U.S. National Championships, now known as the U.S. Open. She went on to become the first African American woman to win major titles: the French Open in 1956, and Wimbledon and the U.S. Nationals in 1957 and 1958.

            Those last two years, the Associated Press named her Female Athlete of the Year — no racial qualifier, just the best. After her first Wimbledon triumph, she was honored with a ticker tape parade in New York City, only the second African American person to be so recognized, after Olympic runner Jesse Owens, who was lauded along the Canyon of Heroes in 1936.

            Gibson credited Jackie Robinson, the Black baseball player who in 1947 broke through the color barrier in Major League Baseball, as her inspiration. But historians believe Gibson smashed an even greater barrier than Robinson.

             “You’re talking about an elite, country-club sport, which has a very different meaning in society” than baseball or other team sports, noted Damion Thomas, a curator for the National Museum of African American History and Culture.*

Lightning strikes the tennis world

            In fact, at Gibson’s first appearance at the Open in 1950, even nature seconded that statement. She won her first match, but the second match was halted by rain. During the ensuing storm, lightning shattered a stone eagle at the top of the stadium.

            “It may have been an omen that times were changing,” Gibson said.**

            Gibson was born to a family of sharecroppers in Silver, South Carolina, a speck of a town barely on the map, and the family moved to Harlem when she was 3 years old. She was a problem child — she hated school and often skipped to spend her days playing ball sports of all kinds. She excelled at women’s paddle tennis, and at the age of 13, she dropped out of school.

            Taking on the game of tennis, Gibson competed in tournaments for the American Tennis Association, which was almost exclusively Black in the 1940s. In 1946, two Black tennis-playing doctors, took Gibson under their wings.

            Soon-to-be welterweight champion Sugar Ray Robinson and his wife also befriended Gibson. The families of the doctors provided homes, tennis instruction and academic structure.  She graduated high school in 1949 in Wilmington, N.C., and from Florida A&M in 1953.

Show ‘em who you are

            Gibson had won the national Black women’s tennis championships two years running. But in 1950,  it looked like the lily-white United States Lawn Tennis Association would exclude her from the Nationals. Another tennis player took up Gibson’s cause.

            “If Althea Gibson represents a challenge to the present crop of players, then it’s only fair that they meet this challenge on the courts,” wrote Alice Marble, a tennis star of the 1930s. To Alice, she wrote: “Don’t bother to tell ‘em who you are; prove it instead.”*** 

            Marble’s challenge prevailed and Gibson made her debut that year. Unlike Jackie Robinson, though, Gibson didn’t see herself a trailblazer for the entire Black community. She found that role too oppressive.

            “I don’t consider myself to be a representative of my people,” she said. “I’m thinking of me and nobody else.”****

            Gibson believed instead that individual achievement on its own would lead to opportunities for everyone. Yet, no matter what she said, she did indeed broaden people’s ideas about who exactly gets the chance to excel.

            “Althea’s accomplishments set the stage for my success, but she also made a difference for people of all backgrounds in all areas,” said tennis star Venus Williams. “Through beneficiaries like me, Serena, and many others to come, her legacy will live on.”*****

                                                _______________________________

* Alicia Ault, “Althea Gibson’s Momentous Achievement,” Smithsonian (June 1, 2021).

** Mark Preston, “Gibson’s Forest Hills Debut,” United States Tennis Association (February 5, 2020).

*** American Lawn Tennis (July 1, 1950). Alice Marble wrote an editorial for this issue of the magazine, along with an open letter to Gibson in February 1950, to which Gibson replied in the same issue.

**** Sally H. Jacobs, “Althea Gibson, Tennis Star Ahead of Her Times, Gets Her Due,” New York Times (August 26, 2019).

***** Endorsement for Born to Win: The Authorized Biography of Althea Gibson, by Frances Clayton Grey (Hoboken, NJ: Wiley, 2004).

We’ll always have Paris

In the 1900s, some sports began to appear as appropriate outlets for women’s athletic pursuits. Still, the Olympics remained elusive.

            Early women’s sports, like golf and tennis, were approved pursuits of the upper class and an option only for white, upper class women. Who can forget the aloof and alluring professional golfer Jordan Baker in F. Scott Fitzgerald’s 1925 novel, The Great Gatsby?  

            Women got a toehold in the Paris Games of 1900, when 22 of the 997 athletes were women, but they competed only in tennis, golf and croquet. Later, a few other sports, such as sailing and equestrianism, were added as women’s events.

            At that Olympics, golfer Margaret Abbott of Chicago became the first American woman to win Olympic gold. Unlike the men, however, she got a gold-plated ceramic bowl instead of a medal. And, ironically, Abbott never knew she’d won a gold medal. The 1900 games were called the Championnats Internationaux, instead of the Olympic Games. The event was not recognized as an Olympiad until after Abbott’s death in 1955.

Pierre digs in

            However, backward male attitudes still held sway and the Olympics remained out of reach for most female athletes.

            “Women’s sports are the most unaesthetic sight human eyes could contemplate,” sniffed founder Baron Pierre de Coubertin. “The Olympics should be reserved for men… with female applause as its reward.” *

            Women struck back, starting their own competitive games, which were held until 1934. But every time they requested full entry into the Olympics, women met “a solid wall of refusal,” said Alice Milliat, a French athlete who founded the women’s games.**

            In 1928, a woman’s race at the Amsterdam Olympics set back the cause of female athletics for decades. After runners competed in an 800-meter race, sportswriters ridiculed the women’s efforts.

            “It was a pitiful spectacle to see the girls tumble down after the finish like dead sparrows,” a writer from the German magazine De Maasbode said. His conclusion? “The distance is far too strenuous for women.”***

            Piling on, the president of the International Olympic Committee (IOC), Count Henri Baillet-Latour, proposed that all women’s competitions be cut from the Games. While his outrageous suggestion was not taken up, the IOC cut women’s races longer than 200 meters from the Games until 1960, when the 800-meter race was re-introduced. The women’s marathon wasn’t approved until 1984.

Babe bursts on the scene

            The 1930s passed before the finally the IOC began adding women’s sports to the Games in significant numbers. However, progress slowed for all athletes when the Olympics were cancelled by war in 1916, 1940 and 1944. And into the 1960s, individual sports were still the only avenue open to women.

            But outstanding female athletes gradually began to change people’s minds. Mildred “Babe” Didrikson mastered every sport she tried, including golf, track and field, basketball and baseball. She won two gold medals in track and field at the 1932 Los Angeles Summer Olympics, and after turning to professional golf, she won ten Ladies Professional Golf Association major championships.

            Yet, in the press, Didrikson was criticized for her short hair and for wearing pants and  shorts. A sports writer once said of Didrikson, “It would be much better if she and her ilk stayed at home, got themselves prettied up and waited for the phone to ring.”****

            Didrikson just brushed off the insults. She was once asked, “Is there anything you don’t play?” Her answer: “Yeah, dolls.”*****

            Professional sports and the Olympics were cracking open for women. In my next post, we’ll meet Althea Gibson, an African American woman who crashed the lily white game of tennis.

                                                _______________________

* David Goldblatt. The Games: A Global History of the Olympics (New York: W.W. Norton & Co., 2018), p. 109-110.

** The Games, p. 114.

***The Games, p. 112.

**** Joe Williams, “Let Her Play Golf, Even If She Is a Pro,” the New York World Telegram, reprinted in the Oklahoma News (May 15, 1935), p. 9. In the article, he quotes from an earlier, undated column of his.

***** Karen Blumenthal, Let Me Play: The Story of Title IX: The Law that Changed the Future of Girls in America (New York: Atheneum Books for Young Readers, 2005), p. 57.

This dress is killing me

When Pierre de Coubertin founded the modern Olympics in 1896, it’s hardly surprising that he excluded women from the Games. The problem, in part, was the clothing that women were saddled with in that era.

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Grabbing the Olympic rings

The idea that women shouldn’t compete in sports goes way back. Back into antiquity, as a matter of fact. For instance, the storied ancient Olympic games had no female faces gracing the competitions. 

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